#i do think it would be much more reasonable to split this up into pre-hiatus/post hiatus across two days but that's more logistically hard | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fury1031 · 5 years ago

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I've been thinking about Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and how it seems like they've decided to just completely split off Seasons 6 and 7 (and possibly 5?) into an alternate continuity simply because they didn't want to try fitting into the movies' continuity. (Quite possible that this information is wrong. I'm going with the assumption, my hindsight-fueled plot ideas still stand either way)

First of all, I dislike disconnecting the continuity because what is even the point of the show if it's explicitly not in the same continuity? The whole point of the Marvel shows was world-building- showing us what else is going on in the Marvel world while the Avengers have their adventures in their individual and team-up movies.

But the movies have largely ignored the shows, with the exception of extremely minor nods, and the "it's all connected" promise from the early days has felt increasingly hollow. The shows themselves only reference what's happening in the movies in passing and are very self-contained.

Of course, the people behind the movies want to keep things hush-hush to prevent spoilers and leaks, but do they have to be so divorced? Back in Seasons 1 and 2, it felt great to have Agents so deeply impacted by the events of Civil War and Age of Ultron (albeit with a smaller impact from Ultron as it was mostly a subplot in the show leading into one event in the movie, then a few lines of dialogue in the following episode).

Infinity War/Endgame came out in April 2018/2019, each a month before the Agents season finale of S5/season premiere of S6. The airing of the episodes wouldn't have been as big a problem with spoilers. Of course, there's still the risk of leaks, but there are ways to minimize that through filming decoy scenes and shooting the real scenes in secret among other things.

If there had been a bit more collaboration, we could have gotten some pretty amazing plot points. Let's start with the end of Season 5.

We know Coulson is dying, however the show CLEARLY doesn't want to get rid of Clark Gregg and has kept him in main roles.

Season 5's finale is CLEARLY taking place during Infinity War, despite what the writers or whatever are saying about how Season 6 takes place before Infinity War, yet is a year after Season 5. That is a clumsy retcon that makes no sense whatsoever.

Then look at Season 6's plot:

Despite knowing that Coulson has DIED- that there is a tangible CORPSE, they believe Sarge might be him.

What we could have gotten instead, if there had been some actual collaboration between the shows and movies, is mostly the same thing we have in the S5 finale, BUT instead of Coulson and May getting dropped off at Tahiti after Coulson's retirement party, we have Coulson suddenly fade away, being the ONLY victim of the Snap out of the entire main cast (against the odds, I know. But imagine how hard it would have hit for everyone to think that he has from a few days to weeks left only to just disappear at that moment) and have the season end THERE.

We already knew that Infinity War was going to have a continuation. Around that time, we thought Endgame was just going to be IW Part 2. Many predicted that Thanos would win and Endgame would have them bring everyone back, but even with that being an assumption, to keep things under wraps, they could have filmed a decoy ending, then filmed Coulson getting Snapped with minimal crew. Post-production could have been saved for after the movie, possibly having a hiatus somewhere in the season to help avoid spoilers. It would have been an incredible and shocking ending.

Then, when Season 6 came around, we would have had a plausible reason for why Sarge could have been Coulson. He disappeared through unnatural means; the suddenness of it would have made it so much harder and made it easier for them to consider the possibility that Sarge was Coulson. Season 6 could still have taken place a year later, only now it would also be one year after the Snap. It would still be long before the events of Endgame, so not only would there be no risk of conflicting with the movies, we could have had a chance to explore the post-Snap world and see the devastation it caused. In Endgame, we only saw a bit of the trauma- some would argue not enough to definitively say that Thanos was wrong.

A post-Snap, but pre-Endgame story would have helped with that so much. Daisy, Simmons, and the others would still go looking for Fitz, but the others back on Earth would be trying to deal with helping the remaining population only for the whole thing with Sarge and Izel to happen. Perhaps the reveal of Sarge's true identity could happen at a different time or perhaps not. But another plot point with huge potential could be that, once they realized Coulson is still Snapped, that even if he and everyone else comes back from that, Coulson was still dying and he had days left. It would taint the hope that he might return with the tragedy that they'd lose him a short time later anyway. But THAT would kickstart a plot/subplot of finding a way to save him if he ever came back. After all, since Endgame only happens five years later, they have plenty of time to come up with a way to save him.

#Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.#Marvel #Agents of SHIELD #Coulson #Text Post #Me

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kumkaniudaku · 6 years ago

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A/N: Third time trying to post this. Anyway, thanks to @texasbama and @soldierandawar for the idea. This has elements of overstimulation for @mixedmelanin and (hopefully) hot smut for @httpjex ‘s birthday. Enjoy.

Warnings: SMUT (18 + content only)

Mouth hung open and eyes wide, you stood in front of the large mirror of your suite’s master bathroom applying the finishing touches for the night’s makeup look. The beautiful view of Central Park provided natural lighting for your dressing routine, but if you asked Chadwick, it couldn’t hold a candle to the woman he was looking at.

Your yellow, silk robe hung from your golden shoulders, almost giving your husband a peek at your bare chest. With his body angled against the bathroom door, he watched you with a smile as you prepared for your first invite to Rihanna’s annual Diamond Ball.

“You look beautiful, T,” he complimented, pushing his body off the door frame to stand behind you. “Finest mother of two I’ve ever seen.”

“Haven’t you seen Beyonce? Don’t be disrespectful,” you laughed. He joined you while using his nose to direct your head upward. Satisfied with the position, he placed lingering kisses along your jawline.

“It could be a thousand Beyonce’s in the room, and I’m still leaving with you.”

“What about a thousand Rihanna’s?”

“Now you’re pushing it!”

You playfully pushed him away to continue the rest of your routine. Turning to him, you held two lipstick components in front of your mouth for him to judge. “Gloss or matte?”

“Whichever one won’t come off when I’m kissing you.”

“Who says I want to kiss you,” you questioned while lining your lips with a chestnut lip liner. Chadwick didn’t speak, instead choosing to smirk at you. Looking at him through the mirror, you mentally began to retract your statement. His shoulders and chest glistened in the setting sun, matching the diamond-like gleam in his fresh haircut and facial hair. His trousers hung low and unzipped on his waist to reveal the briefs underneath, and it took all of your willpower to redirect your thoughts and focus on getting dressed. It didn’t matter what man walked into the event space tonight; you knew yours was the shit.

“Okay, so I lied. Sue me.”

Chadwick followed you into the bedroom, laughing and joking about the comment Micah made about ‘babysitting’ Noah while at her auntie’s house in Harlem. During the conversation, you turned your back to slide out of your robe and start the process of putting on the evening’s attire. As you stood in only a nude thong, your husband’s mind wandered to the surprises he had for you. If all went well, his plan would lead to the intimacy he craved since Noah’s arrival. He agreed to give you space to heal and recalibrate but, the gentle kisses and naughty touches made him want to return to space between your legs.

“Aaron, can you help me with this,” you asked, motioning toward the zipper on the back of your dress.

He shot up from his relaxed position on the bed, eager to run his fingers down the smooth skin of your back. Holding the front of your dress kept your breast covered while he wiggled the zipper up and clasped the hook at the top. In a moment of truth, you let out the breath you were holding to test the limits of the satin material. You chose the metallic rose pink silk double satin gown from Ralph and Russo’s Fall 15/16 line for two reasons: the corset to hold in the post-baby tummy and the thigh-high slit in the front to get your man’s attention.

Slowly leaking the pent-up breath in your lungs, you dropped your shoulders in relief when you found that there was ample room to function in the dress. Chadwick stared at you with an unreadable expression.

“What,” you panicked. “Is it ugly? Does it look too small? I knew my body wasn’t ready yet. Fuck!”

His few seconds of silence fueled an anxiety charged rant on the current shape of your body. After Micah was born, it only took four months to get back in pre-baby shape. You were lean again, boasting a set of defined abs and the perky ass that drew Chadwick’s hands in like a magnet. Now, with Noah approaching the four-month milestone, your body clung to the extra weight. Your stomach still carried a little pudge and your back had enough rolls to feed a dinner table. Despite your husband’s best efforts to remind you of your beauty, the tiny voice of self-deprecation occasionally reared its ugly head.

Chadwick’s large hands gripped your waist to stop your nervous pacing and steady you in front of him. “What did I tell you?”

“That I am gorgeous inside and out,” you mumbled, your eye roll mirroring Micah’s signature expression and making him smile.

“Exactly. So, stop this shit. I don’t care about your stomach or the extra jiggle in your back and thighs. You had my son, my namesake,” he swiped his finger against your bottom lip before adding a kiss. “Plus, I’m trying to use that pudge for grip when I’m diggin’ you from the back. This dress is gonna get you in trouble.”

“Stop it!” You bashfully hit his chest, turning your face away to hide your smile. His slender fingers cupped your face to bring your eyes to meet his.

“I got some something for you.” The low tone of his voice indicated that whatever was waiting for you not an innocent gift.

You nodded your approval and waiting for him to return from the dresser drawers nearby. In his hands, he held two large ivory boxes tied in gold bows. You squealed in excitement as he removed the bows and began to open the first box.

“Since this is the Diamond Ball, I couldn’t let my lady show up without diamonds.” The Cartier d’Amour earrings and matching d’Amour necklace danced in the sunlight to match the twinkle in his eye.

Your mouth hung open in shock and concern, “Baby, I know these were expensive. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Let me worry about expenses. You focus on holding your hair up so I can put this necklace on.”

Following his directions, you lifted your natural blowout and twist to give him space to clasp the jewelry around your neck before kissing the chain for good measure. He watched you put on your earring with a smile, loving the way you examined yourself in the mirror.

“These are incredible, Aaron. Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem,” he answered, waving you off. “Anything for you.”

A long kiss and utterances of ‘I love you’ passed between your lips in appreciation for his unexpected gift. “There’s still one more box. What’s in that one?”

“How about you open it,” he whispered against your ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth.

You hissed at the sensation as you bit your lip to keep your composure. A trembling hand reached to grab the last box while still wrapped in Chadwick’s arms. When the lid slid off the box, you turned your head in confusion. A matte pink bullet vibrator sat nestled between grey foam beside a rose gold remote. You could sense Chadwick’s cheeky grin before you turned around, flicking on the light bulb in your head.

“You want to use this when we get back tonight,” you flirted. “I think I’m ready to have you back inside.”

He let out a shaky breath as your tongue swiped against a spot on his clavicle, “We’re using this tonight. As in while we’re in public.”

“What? How?”

“Well...you’ll insert this bad boy,” he explained, handing you the bullet vibrator. “And I’ll take control with this little guy.”

You were mortified but intrigued. “You’re telling me you have control of this thing all night while it’s inside of me?”

“Unless you don’t want to. But, if you’re the same woman that begged to suck my dick in Whole Food’s parking lot just because, I think you’ll like it.”

“Let’s do it,” you answered, almost too eagerly. The thought of him having control of your orgasm made your knees weak. You never considered the fact that you were dealing with a notorious prankster. All you saw was this experiment turning into you grabbing his hand and saying goodbye to your friends to end the night early.

He chuckled at your reaction before turning your body and motioning for you to get on all fours on the bed. His hand searched the front of your body for your split, pulling the excess fabric up to bunch around your waist. “Hold that for me, baby.”

You did so with no hesitation as he removed the bullet from your hand. Using the tip, he slid it slowly down the damp spot on your panties, smiling at the way you squirmed in anticipation.

“Do you trust me, baby?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Can I get you ready for tonight?”

“Please!”

He nodded behind you before he hooked two fingers around your panties and pulled them down. The wetness from your core clung to the material, providing a mouth-watering show for your husband. His palm pressed against your back firmly to deepen your arch and expose your sweetest parts in their rawest form. He cursed to himself as he watched your pussy open up like a flower, the sight causing his erection to strain against his briefs. As much as he wanted to re-introduce himself to your body, he reminded himself that tonight was about you.

Chadwick’s knees dropped to the floor so that he could get eye to eye with your prize. He tongue tested and tasted the waters as he licked broad paths against your slit. The wet slurping and sucking turned you on more than words could describe. Being careful not to bury your face in the white pillows and smear your makeup, you bit down on the top of one to contain your embarrassing screams.

He grunted a long ‘mmm’ into your pussy while his nose brushed against your clit. Your grinding and wiggling against his face let him know that he hadn’t lost his skill during the brief hiatus and convinced him to do more. The tip of his tongue spelled his first, middle and last name around your clit in invisible to ink to mark his territory. You shivered involuntarily as he rounded off the ‘o’ in Aaron, realizing that he still had eight letters to go. Your vision was blurring and his moans of approval began to muffle in your ear to form a euphoric ringing in the background.

“I missed this,” he spoke against your inner thigh. “You’re still as sweet as I remember, Sunshine.” He sucked at your sensitive bundle to create a soft vacuum of undeniable pleasure. Letting go with a smack, he kissed the spot. “You missed Daddy’s mouth?”

“Oh, God, yes.”

He chuckled, “I can tell. You’re so wet for me.” Changing the pace, he easily slid the vibrator inside and turned on the lowest setting to prepare you.

You hips rolled at the sensation, enjoying the vibration inside and the light tapping against your clit. You called out his name, earning another level of pleasure from the remote. The more intense vibrating and his warm tongue kissing circles on your ass cheek made you let out a foreign squeak.

After showing each cheek equal attention, he spread you open, going back to his assault on your clit. His head shook and nodded as he alternated between licking and sucking to get you off the way that he knew was your favorite. His tongue changed shape to target different areas until you were gripping the sheets and pushing back against his face.

“Fuck, Aaron! I’m g-g-g...ooohmy...shit!” Your hands reached for the headboard to steady yourself through your release. Chadwick placed pressure against your ass to add to the orgasm as he used the other hand to rub your back.

“There you go, baby. You’re being so good for me. Thank you,” he praised. The strength of his arm snaking around your waist was the only thing keeping your body from thudding against the mattress and ruining your hair and makeup.

He helped you to the edge of your bed to clean you off and slip into your underwear adding a cute kiss on the nose. His smile was devious whenever he glanced at you as he finished getting dressed. He had a few tricks up his sleeve and intended to use every one of them until you were begging to cum.

By the time you got off the red carpet and into the venue, you had all but forgotten about the device cradled in your love. Chadwick pulled out your chair for before sitting beside you and resting a hand on your knee. Positioned across from Jamie Foxx, Dave Chappelle, and Trevor Noah, you settled into the conversation to pass the time.

“You, my man, have a new baby,” Trevor started, “How’s the second go at fatherhood?”

“Man, it’s great. I forgot how much fun it is to watch a new human learn life.”

“That is until it’s time to get up and change a diaper and then he’s not so happy,” you laughed, gripping his thigh.

Chadwick’s boisterous laugh took the attention away from the fumbling he was doing in his pocket.

“I take it Chadwick isn’t fond of the 3 AM wake up calls.”

“My husband isn’t fond of-ooh,” Your legs clinched at the first tingle of the vibrator moving inside of you. Your grip on Chadwick’s thigh tightened as you looked to him for confirmation.

“Are you okay? Did I step on your foot,” Trevor asked, preparing to peep under the table to examine.

“NO,” you shouted to stop him. “I mean, y-yeah. I’m fine. What was I saying?”

“You were telling him about me not liking to get up in the middle of the night.” Chadwick kissed your temple in feigned innocence while rubbing the vice grip you had on his knee.

“Yeah, he doesn’t-he-he doesn’t always like to get up b-but, he does.” You squirmed around in your seat trying to ignore the building tension in your core. Thankfully, Trevor accepted your answer with a laugh and turned his attention to the other guests at the table. “Chadwick, stop!”

“Stop what,” he questioned with a smug grin. “You don’t wanna finish?”

You pulled your lip into your mouth as your walls clenched around the device. “Please.”

“Nope,” before you could counter, the vibration stopped. “Too bad.”

“Aaron!”

“Nuh uh. Go talk to your girls. I’ll be...around.”

You looked around at the few familiar faces in the room before looking back at your husband. “Are you going to keep doing that?”

“I might.” His eyebrows quirked as his lips curved into a dark smile. His hand traveled down the small of your back to tap twice and signal you to stand and walk away. With a deep breath, you willed your legs to cooperate and start you on a quest to converse with whoever would get you away from your maniac of a husband.

Chadwick watched you like a hawk the whole night to wait for his opportunities to strike. When you were in conversation with Beyonce and LaLa Anthony, he switched the vibrator to its lowest setting and observed as you put on a pained smile to keep your dirty secret.

A battle of compliments with Janelle Monae suddenly fell quiet on your end when the device started up again. Determined to keep your composure, you gripped the back of a chair with white knuckles for the duration of the interaction.

No one seemed to notice when Chadwick would pull you to his side while he talked with his friends, partially to keep you upright when the second setting of the bullet kicked in. You held on to his tux jacket, resting the side of your head on his shoulder to paint the picture of a doting wife. In actuality, you were fighting to keep tears from running down your cheeks and streaking your foundation.

The time intervals and situations would vary, but the one thing that remained the same was that he never let you cum. Your pussy would throb in waiting for your release and, as soon as the tell-tale sign of your orgasm would show, Chadwick would switch off the vibrator and leave you on edge in a puddle of your juices. Each time the bullet would rev up, your insides stepped closer to explosion and Chadwick’s fantasies unfolded in front of him.

Thirty minutes had passed since your husband’s last “show” and you were thankful to have food in front of you just in case you needed to stifle a moan. You almost let the cat out of the bag during the last go-round, prompting Chadwick to place a slender finger against his lips to warn you to quiet down.

“I know the food is good but, damn, y’all need to get up and dance,” Rihanna exclaimed into the microphone to draw a laugh from the guests. “They told me that I have to play at least one slow song before this shit is over with so, we gon’ get it out the way right now. Maestro, play my shit!”

The strings of the orchestra strummed a beautiful classical rendition of ‘Kiss it Better’ to create a moving version of one of your favorite songs. Rihanna stood in front of them with her back turned to the attendees, elegantly directing the intro to the song.

“My Queen, will you dance with me,” Chadwick asked in his Wakadan accent to raise the hair on the back of your neck.

“Don’t do this, baby. Put the accent away.”

He chuckled and held out his hand for you to latch onto, “C’mon, Co. This is your song.”

You rolled your eyes at him. He was right, and you hated pretending not to want to jump up and sway your hips to the infectious rhythm. You scowled at his crooked grin as both of you watched couple after couple pair up on the dance floor. Even people who didn’t show up together wasted no time pulling each other to the front and moving in sync with the music.

“You know you wanna dance, Mama. Take my hand.”

You huffed and slammed your palm into his, “I hate you.”

“I know.”

Hand in hand, he led you to the center of the commotion. Your body melted into his when he kissed your forehead and placed your hands around his neck. “There are cameras to your right and a crowd of people your left.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” his head dipped to whisper in your ear and distract you from the movement in his pocket. “When I make you cum in front of all these people, you’ll need to hide your face. You don’t want your mouth all open on the blogs do you?”

“No! Not here, Aaron,” you hissed.

“Too late! Just focus on me, baby. I got you.”

Your knees nearly gave out when he introduced you to the third setting of the vibrator. Your already sensitive clit was engulfed in numbing pleasure as your orgasm worked double time to catch up. You clawed at his back and looked around the room to make sure that no one could see the torture he was putting you through.

“Oh my, God. Aaron,”

“Shhhh, don’t get too loud. Look at me.” You struggled to look up at him as your body twitched in response to the stimulus. Your release was close and you didn’t know if you could suppress your urge to speak in tongues in front of hundreds of people. “You gettin’ close huh, girl?”

“Mhmm.”

“Use your words. Tell me you’re about to let go.” He scolded, pressing his palms flat on your has to push your hips into his.

“Yesss,” you whispered. “I’m about to-” a low moan muffled by the music escaped your lips.

Knowing you were ready to let go excited Chadwick and he lowered his lips onto yours. The music heightened your orgasm, swirling around your already clouded brain in a high that couldn’t be achieved through the use of narcotics.

He did a superb job of acting like a loving husband, keeping the kiss sweet to swallow your moans. Your nails dug into his shoulders in desperation when your orgasm began to stretch longer than you were used to. Chadwick kept the vibrator going to milk you for all you had and then some. Feeling your body weight begin to sag against him, he turned off the device and pulled away from the kiss to look at you.

“You okay? I almost lost you.”

“Shut your black ass mouth,” you croaked, mouth too dry to continue. He watched you look down to examine your attire and ensure that no evidence of your activities could be seen on or around your dress.

“Everything is fine. No one knows.” You looked around to confirm his statement. “I promise. They’re all so wrapped up in their dances that they didn’t even look over here.”

“Chadwick I sw-”

His lips pressed into yours in a firm and dominant kiss. You struggled to catch your breath when he pulled away. “You gon’ let me run this or keep talking over me?” His grip on your waist, the way his fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your sides and his stare between your eyes, lips, and breasts nearly spilling over your corset made you whimper in response. “We’re gonna dance to a few more songs, talk to a couple people, and then, I’m taking you back to the hotel to finish what we started. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he smiled, running his hands up and down your back. “Now, get out of here. I’ll see you in about an hour.”

His hand stealthily collided with your backside before he physically turned you around and pushed you away to mingle. You looked over your shoulder to confirm his instructions, receiving a nod of confirmation.

The hour dragged on, forcing you to look at the time every ten minutes. Chadwick moved through the room with no problems without giving you a second glance. The whiskey in his glass turned into one, two and, then, five cups, dialing his charm up from a five to a ten. You were seething and nearing your tipping point when a quick jolt of energy between your legs nearly made you jump from your seat.

Craning your neck, you found him standing near the exit. With a smile, Chadwick dangled the room key in the air and motioned for you to meet him outside.

“So, I told her, the Devil Wears Prada and guess where this fur came from, bitch.”

You mentally rolled your eyes while standing to excuse yourself from the boring pow-wow.

“Tasha, leaving so soon,” the designer questioned.

“Uh, yes. It was so nice to meet you ladies, but my husband is ready to go...pick up our kids. You know the little ones get fussy at night,” you lied.

“Of course! Give my regards to the Mister. I’d love to work with you all for your next appearance.”

“Got it! Will do. Bye!” Your Valentino heels click-clacked against the marble floor of the venue lobby until you were greeted by the warm air of New York’s late summer night. Thrashing your head from side to side, you frantically searched for the black SUV responsible for carrying you closer to the session you had planned back at the Mandarin.

“Damn, girl, you got a man?” you heard nearby. Looking in the direction of the voice, you found Chadwick leaning against the door of the UberBLACK vehicle.

You nearly galloped to his position, throwing your body into his arms and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth. He moaned at the affection before cutting it short. No words were exchanged as he opened the door and nodded for you to get in.

Like a kid opening gifts on Christmas morning, you squealed and allowed him to help you inside. Looking back, you wiggled your ass a little to get his attention. He groaned in response and pushed your ass into the seat, urging the driver to take the quickest route to the hotel.

Throwing all of the edging and torture he put you through before this moment out of the window, you mentally prepared yourself for a long night. A quick call to the front desk for a set of replacement sheets set your plan in motion. Chadwick didn’t know it but, you were about to show him how dominant you could be when given a chance.

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#chadwick boseman #chadwick boseman imagine #chadwick boseman fan fiction #chadwick x reader #chadwick boseman x you #chad x coco #coco x chad #black panther fics #black panther fan fiction #black panther fiction #black panther #black panther fanfiction

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sp4c3-0ddity · 6 years ago

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Tell me about Paparazzi and Not One of Ours!

WIP Meme

ah the Paparazzi fic...the fic that I will one day write...definitely...absolutely (even though it still only lives in the notes on my phone...because i had this idea while i hiatus in August ;_;)

the concept (a post-season seven fic) is that somehow the paparazzi exists on Earth despite an alien invasion (heck some of the paparazzi are aliens...and Sal advertises in the tabloids), and the Paladins are instant celebrities for obvious reasons so naturally the paparazzi pry into their private lives...

(Hunk voice: she is not my girlfriend!!)

anyway one of them waggles their eyebrows at Pidge (so to speak) and is like so you’re surrounded by these young handsome and heroic men so surely one of them has caught your eye?? and she’s Annoyed because she’s been badgered with questions like this A Lot lately so she snaps (eager to get them off her back although it backfires and joke’s on her) and name-drops Lance

everything kind of spirals downhill from there. Pidge is mortified she told the whole damn universe she has a crush on her teammate, Lance is Stunned that his teammate has a crush on him (and that he found out through a tabloid rather than from her), and Hunk and Keith face-palm the entire time

(Matt, with Pidge’s vlog playing in the background: well that explains a lot)

naturally Lance confronts Pidge about it (because she’s in Avoid Mode) because he’s kinda hurt she didn’t tell him, but she lies (or well...it’s somewhat true) and says she just wanted the paparazzi to quit bugging her about her nonexistent romantic life so she used his name as a placeholder and doesn’t actually like him like that

(You, me, and their mother: lies)

Lance is hurt (the Nile is a river in Egypt) and uh...they don’t talk for a bit (or something like that) and eventually they make up when Pidge comes clean. he wonders if she would’ve told him on her own and she admits she would’ve kept it to herself because what’s the point?? (he’s already kinda dating Allura by then anyway) BUT the important thing is that they are Friends again!!

cue a montage of tabloid “headlines” vaguely documenting the evolution of their relationship, culminating in one accompanied by a photo (this is where i would’ve begged an artist to collaborate with me because a Picture is worth a thousand words and i have a Very Distinct image in my head) of Pidge and Lance holding hands or kissing or some other Sweet Romantic Affection thing while they both flip off the “camera”

that was...basically the whole fic...but anyway

and Not One of Ours!! oh boy this one got to about 25k words before i went on hiatus and so kinda...abandoned it?? i did post the first scene as a preview, but the concept is rather dark...

basically Pidge is captured by someone who subjects her to both “pleasant�� and “unpleasant” hallucinations in a quest for information...but also to make her miserable, really. on top of which due to Circumstances she thinks Lance is dead (don’t worry, he’s not)

it’s split between flashbacks to Pidge’s captivity and the present to her tormentor’s trial (also between Pidge and Lance PoV because...why not alternating PoV??). also as a result i got to kinda...explore other realities?? like one where the Galra invaded Earth pre-Voltron (and without Voltron i suppose) and another where the Kerberos mission was a success...and another where Matt Holt didn’t recognize Pidge when she found him ;_;

i may save the concept, even if i don’t continue the fic, of “character experiencing wish-fulfilling hallucinations while also being Grounded to reality by some terrible fact of life” because i love it so

aaaand here’s a ~1200-word excerpt for fun:

Pidgetaps her fingertip against her thigh, counting the sentry’s patrol while she crouches in a shallowcrevice she strongly suspects is the opening of a trash disposal chute. Herbreath sits trapped in her lungs while she waits, and she releases it in a huffas the sentry passes.

Pidge sneaks out of her crevice and intothe hallway that she knows from scouting and testing the boundaries of herfreedom will lead her to the ship’sbridge - from where she can send her teammates a distress signal and bring theship down from the inside.

She creeps down the hall, wary of stickingto the blind spots of any surveillance cameras she finds and ducking intodoorways at the hint of a patrolling sentry or Galra serviceman.

“…refusingto awaken.”

Pidge halts just past an open room whereshe suspects the living servicemen take mid-shift breaks. Her mind spurs heron, telling her that whatever they’respeaking of has nothing to do with her - except to distract them from spottingher - but her heart isn’tso sure.

She backs up a step, keeping the roombehind her while staying out of sight of its occupants, to listen:

“Eventhe Druids can’t wake it,” a soldier tells his fellow.

“Butwe’re holding its Paladin hostage,” the fellow says, sounding confused.

Pidge stiffens, her eyes widening. What Paladin?

She bites the words back, keeps fromstorming into the room and demanding information - because why would they giveit to her? She has no bite to match her bark, no bayard to hold to their throatand no Lion of her own to threaten them.

But if one of her teammates was alsocaptured, she needs to find them before attempting her own escape.

“It’sjust an unfeeling machine,” the first soldier says. “Why would its Paladin’ssafety be its concern? That’s like threatening to kill one of us so that asentry will violate its programming.”

The other soldier snorts before dissolvinginto a full-blown guffaw. “Oh,I would like to see that.”

Pidge scowls, wishing she didcarry a weapon. What do these two know anyway? They’d never witnessed Red lunge for Keith orBlack crouching over Shiro or—

Grief washes over Pidge, an ache fillingher chest when she realizes how much she misses Green. How long has it beensince she felt something of her Lion inside her head?

How long has she been a prisoner?

“Notfor much longer,” Pidge swears.

She detours to a nearby directory, sighingin relief when it doesn’trequire Galra biometrics to unlock - not her first piece of luck, and it’senough to make her wonder if this is too easy until she shakes her head andfocuses on the task at hand.

Pidge memorizes the ship’s layout and the route to the ship’shangar as best as she can. She traces the route on her arm and mumbles thedirections under her breath, but before she can exit out of the directory,metallic, clanging footsteps sound behind her.

She sprints down an adjacent hallway, justin time for a small contingent of sentries that pass along with a supervisinghelmeted Galra soldier. He scowls as he marches and speaks into his comm, “Why didn’t you post more security at hercell doorthen?”

“Her”?Pidge covers her mouth to muffle a gasp, her heart pounding even faster.

They know.

The soldier pauses to listen to some reply,and Pidge stalks him and the sentries on silent, bare feet.

“Yes,sir,” the soldier says, his shoulders slumping before he straightens again. “I’malready on my way to the cargo hold.”

Pidge stumbles on her next step, herstomach leaping, but recovers while wondering why.

If Pidge escaped, why would they send moresecurity to the cargo hold?

Unless the Lion isn’t in the hangar, and they think she’llseek it.

Pidge decides it’s time to trip an obvious trap.

She sets her jaw, her hands curling intofists, and chases the soldier and his accompanying sentries at a distance. Ifshe can just catch a glimpse of the Lion, she can ascertain which of herteammates was captured and free them.

Pidge discards her tentative plan theinstant she lays eyes on the Lion.

On her Lion.

Her jaw drops at the sight of the GreenLion cocooned within a particle barrier, at the heavy guard surrounding her, atthe Druid standing before her, its cloak billowing in some unfelt breeze.

As Pidge hides behind a crate and watches,the Druid raises their arms, and an arcing beam of violet quintessence shootsfrom their hands.

It strikes the particle barrier, the greenhexagons flashing violet as the barrier absorbs the blast. The living soldiersin the hold observe from a wary distance, turned in different directionsundoubtedly to keep watch for Pidge.

Pidge bites her lip, her thoughts occupiedwith this new dilemma. How to get to her Lion?

How to wake her up without making hervulnerable to the Druid’sattacks?

She pinches her eyes shut and reaches outto Green with her mind.

Her eyes fly open when she senses nothing.

Pidge grits her teeth and thinks, Why can’t I hear you, girl?

Panic rises within her with every tick sheextends tendrils of thought towards the Lion with no response, not even a hintof a consciousness touching hers. It’slike…

The soldiers she overheard were right, andthe Green Lion is little more than an unthinking machine.

Why have you shut me out? Pidge wonders as she swallows around a lumpin her throat.

Is it because she’s a prisoner and her Lion needs a strongand freePaladin to pilot her?

No… Pidge sags as the first tears escape. Shewipes at them, failing to muffle a sob as she wraps her arms around her legsand buries her face in her knees.

No, no, no.

It’sall wrong. Pidge knows it’sall wrong, so why—

Her tears still, cutting herself offmid-sob at the flicker of a memory playing through her mind. Doubt strikes her,and she glances over the crate at the Lion, frowning.

She wasn’tcaptured with the Green Lion. She and Lance took hisLion - the Red Lion, so why—

The crate explodes, shoving Pidge away withthe force of the small blast. Heat tears at her already tattered clothes andscalds her skin, and she gasps in shock, her heart jumping into her throat, asher shoulder collides with the floor.

Her cheeks and arms sting with a multitudeof cuts, her whole body aching from the blast and fall as she slowly sits up,rubbing her pounding head.

The Druid stands over her, a ball of purpleenergy floating over their hand.

“Thesearen’t real,” Pidge tells them. She touches her face, and when her fingertipscome away bloody, she feels no surprise. “None of—the Green Lion shouldn’t behere!” She bolts to her feet, stumbling at a wave of dizziness and when herankle nearly gives out underneath her with a spike of pain shooting up her leg,and shouts, “You can’t replicate the bond between Paladin and Lion, can you?”

#...given the opportunity i talk a Lot about my writing #rather than...actually writing apparently #qna #plance #pidgance #voltron #reem writes fic #most of my wips are plance because of course #cosmicdusttrails

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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The Flash Season 7 Episode 4 Review: Central City Strong

https://ift.tt/2PqM859

This The Flash review contains spoilers.

Abra Kadabra isn’t the sort of villain that you might think The Flash would build the episode that was ostensibly meant to serve as its Season 7 premiere around, but here we are. His original appearance back in Season 3 was pretty underwhelming and the show really doesn’t make much better use of him here. Or, at least, not as Abra Kadabra, specifically.

As a set-up for the rest of the season, “Central City Strong” is pretty bland, an episode that would likely annoy many viewers had it arrived after a several months’ hiatus instead of just a week, given its lackluster special effects and Barry’s decision to talk down another villain rather than fight them. But, positioned as it is, this hour actually becomes an important transition in a way that few other The Flash episodes have managed before. (And it represents an emotional depth and narrative nuance that make me very hopeful for the rest of the season to come.)

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The thing is, despite the many disasters and supervillains and reality-bending crises that happen in the Arrowverse – events that wreck cities, displace loved ones, rewrite lives and memories – we don’t really see a lot in the way of fallout from them. At least not in the emotional sense. Iris spent a year living in fear of her own death, Caitlin tried to kill all her friends back when Frost was still a monster she couldn’t control, and Cisco lost his brother. Barry robbed John Diggle of both the daughter he loved and the memory of her existence. And yet, Team Flash repeatedly just bounces right back from what would rightfully be soul-crushing problems for almost anyone else, ready to face a new foe and save Central City all over again.

Except, apparently not this time. And that’s a good thing.

“Central City Strong” feels like the first time The Flash has decided to really grapple with the emotional consequences of the lives its characters live and the things that happen to them on the regular. From memories from a pre-Crisis on Infinite Earths world leaking back into the one that exists now to the West-Allens’ attempts to grapple with the fallout from Iris’ time in the Mirror Universe, this is an hour that’s about trauma – acknowledging it, accepting it, and trying to figure out how to carry it.

(Wanda Maximoff says hi, y’all.)

But, in all seriousness, it’s truly refreshing to see the show finally acknowledge some of the horrors its characters have experienced – both Team Flash and general Central City residents – and admit that those things should have lasting repercussions.

Iris spent three months watching a clone steal her life and sleep with her husband and, what’s worse, saw Barry not really notice the difference. Barry’s desperate to make up for not immediately recognizing Mirror Iris as a fraud, as though tropical vacations and fresh French pastries are somehow enough to cure what he and his wife both went through. And, as Iris rightly points out, Barry himself is suffering from his own share of emotional upheaval, in the wake of the thing he trusted most in the world turning out to be a lie. (Not Real Iris’s fault, of course, but you can’t help what you feel.) Watching the two of them actually try to talk through their struggles and give names to their feelings – both separately and together – feels like genuine growth, both for their marriage and the show.

The Flash Season 7 Episode 3 Review: Mother

By Lacy Baugher

The Flash Season 7 Episode 2 Review: The Speed of Thought

By Lacy Baugher

This is, after all, is the kind of problem that The Flash normally has Barry solve with an inspirational pep talk about the power of love and/or teamwork. But that’s not enough here, and it shouldn’t be. Absolutely no one should be fine right now, least of all Iris. And that’s okay. Maybe Abra Kadabra wasn’t the best villain of the week to convey this story – especially since Barry did talk him down instead of fight him and he appears to have died at the end – but it’s a solid A for effort attempt.

Elsewhere, “Central City Strong” makes an attempt to finally deal with another long-running The Flash narrative problem, officially splitting Caitlin and Killer Frost into two people. Do we have any idea how this happened? Of course not. Do we care? Um, not really.

While some viewers (cough me cough) have always thought that these women would be better served as two aspects of Caitlin’s personality that she would one day have to learn to accept, after The Flash spent all of last season establishing Frost as her own character, this is probably the best of all possible outcomes. Truly, as long as it allows us to abandon the fiction that is Frost timesharing a body with her soul twin or whatever it is that these two women are to one another, it’s fine. Especially if investigating what allowed them to separate will finally allow the show to explore the things that connect them too.

More Flash Thoughts

So…Tom Cavanagh not being in the opening credits this week is interesting. I still fully believe there’s no way we’ll be without a Wells forever, but maybe it’ll stick for longer than I thought.

Truly, The Flash must have spent the entire Season 7 effects budget on the Frost vs. Barry speedster face-off a couple of episodes back. The CGI was atrocious this week.

Awww, Oliver Queen shout out!

Chester with the TARDIS reference! I love this repeated Doctor Who content for me.

Mecha-Vibe is a great name and we should keep it.

In theory, the Central City Citizen subplot is an important part of The Flash for a couple of reasons: It’s past time that Iris actually got to be an actual journalist and the female-centric workspace makes for a nice narrative change from the world of STAR Labs. But, wow, The CW truly does not understand how the media industry works and it hurts my soul.

Seriously, is this paper publishing a single article per day?

So, could they have been vaguer with the whole low-rent Hulk rip-off monster? I am told by more knowledgeable folks than myself that this creature clearly has something to do with the Strength Force, but I’ve personally been assuming that all the colored lightning we keep seeing has something to do with new speedsters? Which is it? Are we supposed to know for sure?

The post The Flash Season 7 Episode 4 Review: Central City Strong appeared first on Den of Geek.

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