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bonesaldente · 4 years ago

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Ferocious I Darth Maul x Reader

PART II OF CALIGINIOUS

Chapter 1: An Unlikely Reunion

ao3

warnings: violence, you already know the drill

word count: 3900+

This directly connects to S5E14, 08:36 (Eminence) There will be a bunch of cuts in this chapter because of... reasons. You have been warned

____

Allies.

There is something extremely satisfying about the word which marks the first concrete step towards his ultimate goal of power. Power and… revenge.

These days, nothing drives Maul quite as much as his seething hatred for Kenobi, for the man who has taken everything from him: His legs, his future, and lastly, his one outlook on a life filled with more than just selfishness and hatred - a life spent with you by his side, the only person to ever make him feel something akin to… love?

He didn’t pinpoint the emotion back then, foolishly believing he would still have time. Sure, he had used the word, but never as his own feeling - when he dared use such a word, it was possessively, as all things he ever felt.

The difference seemed futile, up until there was nothing there anymore, nothing to love, nothing to hate, even. All there had been was himself.

“The Black Suns have their lair on Mustafar. We should-” Pre Vizsla’s attention is pulled away from the sentence he was in the middle of constructing and to a small group of people approaching from across the Death Watch camp. In their middle walks a woman, the only one not clad in Mandalorian armor, wearing a hood and an intricately composed mask that obscures the lower half of her face in the place of a helmet. The strategic placement of Mandalorian warriors around her makes it obvious she is not a member of the Death Watch and not entirely trusted either.

An expectant grin sneaks on Vizsla’s face, and the woman tosses a blood stained linen bag in his direction.

“His head, like you asked.” Her voice is leveled and distorted by a voice modulator.

“Never one to disappoint, are you?” Vizsla remarks, picking up the bag and taking a look inside, though Maul’s focus remains on the woman whose eyes are glued to him. It is not unusual for him to catch people’s attention due to his vibrant skin tone, but typically, fear makes them look away right after.

With a wave, the Death Watch leader dismisses the Mandalorians surrounding her and beckons her closer while pulling out a sizable pouch of credits.

“Your payment, like we discussed.”

Finally, the woman’s eyes move back to Vizsla.

“Next time, don’t ask for their head. It’s messy.”

The Mandalorian barks out a laugh and his seemingly constant amusement in non-laughable circumstances is already beginning to irritate Maul.

“Maul, allow me to introduce you; This is Spectress, a mercenary we hire to take care of the Duchess’ political friends; Spectress, Lord Maul-” Maul scowls in distaste at the Mandalorians borderline mocking use of the title, “is our newest ally.”

There is something unnerving about the way Spectress is staring at his face; the force is tickling the corners of his brain that harbor old memories of a time before Kenobi. Quiet voices whisper into his ear, ghostly fingers tracing his skin.

With his mind, Maul reaches out through the force, and all of a sudden the woman’s force signature hits him with the strength of a ship jumping to hyperspace.

The aura surrounding her has changed, matured, but its essence remained the way it had been ten years ago. When he looks into her eyes that are hardly visible under the hood, all doubt vanishes.

It is you - These eyes are the same ones he’s seen for a decade every time exhaustion forced his eyes shut, boring into the deepest corner of his mind and filling it with such longing, such yearning, that some days, he would try to use pain to keep them open, keep himself out of sleep’s tempting hands, for sleep brought the nightmares.

“Allow me to speak to this Spectress,” he briefly weighs the name on his tongue, “privately.”

Vizsla looks taken aback by his sudden interest in their accomplice, but complies and gestures to a vacant tent. “I will make the preparations for Mustafar, then.”

As soon as the fabric of the tent falls back into place behind Maul, you whirl around and force him to back into a table, pressing a knife to his neck.

“What kind of game is this?” Your eyes are wild, hood having fallen off in the maneuver. “I will not fall for some mind tricks!”

“There is no trick,” Maul’s voice remains calm, though he can’t cover up the small tremble in it as he slowly moves a finger to push away your blade at his throat, but you don’t budge.

“It is me. I survived Naboo and-”

“Impossible! I saw you die! I saw you die over, and over, and over again,” the pain in your voice is evident even through the modulator, and it sickens Maul to his stomach to think that he is the cause for your pain.

“Kenobi…” He can’t fight the growl that accompanies the name whenever he utters it. “Kenobi almost killed me, but I lived, discarded like trash, abandoned. But I made a promise to not leave you alone,” he stops when he sees your hand shaking and your head turn away from him.

Ever so carefully, he extends his hand to graze the small part of exposed skin right under your eye. “And I will keep that promise.”

Your wide eyes meet his, and your hand slowly moves to your nape, preparing to unlatch your mask, finally let him see the face he has been longing to see for so long.

Maul holds his breath, eyes never leaving yours, when suddenly-

“The men are readying for takeoff to Mustafar, we will leave in less than an hour time,” Pre Vizsla bursts through the entrance of the tent unannounced, causing both Maul and you to jump apart like you had gotten an electric shock.

“Vizsla,” Maul does his best to control his aggravation and not show just how much he would like to choke him in this very moment. “Might I propose a deal with… Spectress?”

He leads the man out of the tent.

“If we intend to utilize the underground for our machinations, employing someone with ties to the criminal world will be useful to us.”

“You suggest we keep her in our ranks?” The man does not look convinced.

Maul’s tone is insistent when he answers. “Now more than ever, it is crucial that our plans remain hidden from the eye of the republic. To ensure that-”

“She doesn’t leak information to outsiders, we keep her close to us where we can keep an eye on her!”

Maul’s eyes flutter shut in annoyance at being interrupted, though he forces himself to put on a diplomatic facade once more.

“Precisely.”

An offer like the one Pre Vizsla is presenting you with right now is not something that would ever be appealing to you - under normal circumstances, that is.

You glance at the man who claims to be the person you’ve lost a decade ago. There are questions swirling around in your head, doubts that you have yet to eliminate; you are not convinced that Maul might actually be alive, and, furthermore, stand right before you. But at the same time, you have no way of finding out the truth if you leave now, so perhaps, a more permanent position among the Death Watch would be an adequate exception to your rule of complete independence - solely a means to an end, of course.

The Mandalorian still looks at you expectantly. He doesn’t understand your dislike of allegiances and commitment: The man praises nothing above honor and the way of the Mandalorians.

“With an appropriate compensation for my efforts,” you accept, “that can be arranged.”

The flight from Zanbar to Mustafar is not too short to make you regret your decision to get more involved with the Death Watch - yet. The ship is also not big enough to get the privacy you need to confront Maul, if it really is him. All you get are stolen glances from across the cockpit and more questions in your head that is already buzzing from the events of the day. Who is the second zabrak and why, in the name of the maker, is he so big? You’ve met enough zabraks to know that they do not grow much taller than human males do, and this one exceeds the height of seven feet, almost hitting his head when he entered the ship before you.

Your fingertips tickle with the naive desire to truly reunite with Maul; in your head you know it could still all be a trick played on you by Darth Sidious to lure you out of the hideout your identity as Spectress has become. In your heart, however, you can only see the man you’ve missed so, so much that your heart still hurts just thinking about the first few years after his supposed death.

The ship lands on the uninviting planet with a dull thud and immediately, Maul leads the way out along with the other zabrak and Vizsla.

“Wait,” you speak up, causing them to stop in their tracks.

“I am familiar with the Black Suns and I have a reputation among the crime families. If I speak to them, they may be more inclined to listen.”

Vizsla crosses his arms in front of his chest, but nods eventually. You can’t help but search Maul’s gaze, and it’s only after he steps to the side that you pass them and take the lead in approaching the Falleens.

It is clear they are hostile, just by the amount of men they have gathered in front of their castle.

“A battalion, brother,” rumbles a deep voice behind you. Brother? That would explain some things, though you still wonder how Maul would have been able to find his family, if he never even knew who they were, let alone where they were. But this is a mystery to be unraveled at a later point in time, as you now reach the Falleens.

“We wish to speak to your leaders,” you declare loudly over the sound of the Mandalorians’ jetpacks. Through the modulator, your voice always sounds more certain than you yourself feel, covering up small trembles and certain emotional inflictions.

The man chuckles darkly. “It’ll be your funeral.”

You tilt your head. “We’ll see.”

He leads you to something akin to a throne room, dimly lit, just like the entire planet.

You post up at the very front of the small group, enjoying the look of recognition that flashes over the Falleens’ faces.

“Mercenary… Why do you come here?”

Maul speaks before you get a chance to reply. “We seek an army.”

“Fools. We are none of your trade,” he gestures to you condescendingly.

“My trade,” you start insistently, “knows a good deal when it sees one.” You wait for the words to sink in before you continue. “And cooperation will be your best option.”

The man only scoffs, foolishly ignoring your advice.

“Dispose of them, keep their ships and weapons. Give me that one's sword, and I want her mask hung on my wall.”

Your group does not falter and the yellow zabrak picks up one of the approaching men, throwing him onto the long table, while Vizsla points his blasters at the other.

Menacingly, the men around the table start rising from their seats. Before you know what is happening, a hand- Maul’s hand - wraps around your wrist and pulls you to the floor with him, thus allowing the other zabrak to throw his lightsaber - double bladed, you note - effectively decapitating all leaders except the one standing closest to you.

Once the weapon has returned to his brother’s hand, Maul pulls you back up, the gesture reminding you of the times you’ve been sparring with him, and going even further back, when you first agreed (against your will, back then) to work with him.

You gulp down the emotions and refocus your attention on the last Falleen in the room.

“Congratulations, it seems you have been promoted,” you comment coolly. “The decision is up to you.”

The man looks three shades lighter and slightly nauseous, but he forces a diplomatic smile.

“After careful consideration, we will join you.”

Flying back to Zanbar is a… much more pleasant endeavor than the flight there. The first steps toward the liberation of Mandalore are taken and the few other death watch warriors on the ship are visibly content with the success of the mission.

You, however, have the incessant urge to space everyone aboard, just so you can finally, finally, get a word alone with Maul. It feels so very unnecessary to act like you were strangers just to keep up an image, when you thought him dead less than 24 hours ago.

If only the ship had even one room that allowed for some privacy… How could you be so fortunate and so unlucky at the same time?

When you depart the ship, Vizsla looks like he is about to try and engage Maul in yet another conversation, but you decide you have waited long enough.

“Lord Maul, a word?” You quickly cut in.

The Death Watch leader raises his eyebrows in surprise, but you sign for Maul to follow you.

There is hardly a place that isn’t bustling with Manalorians, but you know where they won’t be.

A small sigh of relief escapes you when you see the familiar metal of your ship and you finally face him once you’ve made it to the ramp.

You take a deep breath, then push back your hood, practiced fingers easily finding the familiar latch. With an almost inaudible hiss, the mechanism holding your mask in place releases and you push it under your chin.

His eyes widen, but you don’t let yourself soak in his softening gaze.

“Explain.” You demand, unmodulated voice sounding strangely raw even to your own ears.

His mouth opens but it takes a bit until actual sounds come out.

“I… it took nightsister magick and my brother to find me. And even then, I was - I was damaged, hardly functioning. Mother Talzin repaired my mind,”

“When?” You interject sharply, selfishly feeling neglected when he was alive all this time while you were busy mourning, hiding from Darth Sidious as well as the Jedi who saw your face on Naboo, and then having to survive as a criminal in the outer rim.

Sincere eyes never leaving yours, he responds.

“A month or so.” You bite down on your trembling lip, wanting to remain vigilant but unable to stop your suspicion from disappearing.

Maul still stands at exactly the same distance as when you started talking, so as to not scare you off, you presume, but now you stupidly want to close that distance.

You notice that his hand is shaking when he slowly reaches out and, at last, grazes his gloved fingertips against your cheek.

“Believe me, I never stopped thinking about you.”

“I -” You are interrupted by a loud clunk from the ramp.

Already, you know who it is, but on instinct you still spin around with your blaster raised.

Staring back at you with wide eyes is what looks like a reflection of yourself some years back.

You look back at Maul, seeing the way he freezes upon seeing her.

“Is that… that’s not … Is it?”

For a moment you don’t understand what he is getting at, but then it clicks in your head, at about the same time that the young woman behind you understands the implication.

“You guys were- Oh, no no no-” She waves him off, cheeks tinted red.

“Loa,” you point at the girl, “Is my sister. I tracked her down some time after… Naboo.”

The girl still stares at Maul for another moment, before she picks up the crate she was carrying earlier.

“I was going to stock up on supplies,” she says meekly, “so I’ll just … leave you two, and… yeah, I’ll just go.”

Moving down the ramp, her body is shaking with a cough that pulls at your heartstrings.

Your face must have betrayed you, for when she is out of earshot, Maul asks:

“Is she sick?”

Your eyes flicker to the ground while you try to find the words to explain her condition.

“She was a slave in one of the spice mines on Kessel before I found her, and she’s had breathing difficulties ever since. And sometimes, she gets very weak, or faints.”

You despise the pity in his eyes. “But she is strong. I’ve taught her to defend herself, and she has grown up to be a remarkably cunning, honorable woman.”

“She must be,” he mumbles, “With you as her teacher.”

Maul is unsure of how to interpret your actions. Do you still yearn for him the same way he has been longing to be with you again all this time? Or have you moved on from your past, including your time with him, and outgrown the need for his companionship?

He wants to run his fingers along your face, that, while more mature, still looks exactly how it appeared in his fevered dreams on Lothor Minor, safe for a few small scars here and there. Your eyes still hold the same intelligent sparkle that they did ten years ago, but now something else, wisdom, perhaps, lurks behind them as well.

How does one proceed under these circumstances? Maul is a refined schemer, a crafty intriguer, but matters of the heart are not his forte, and understanding emotions other than rage and resentment is not something he was ever taught - or even had a desire to learn. Until you, that is.

His thought process is cut short when the deafening sound of several ships approaching the Death Watch camp catches both of your attention.

“Those are Pyke ships,” you remark with curiosity and Maul catches himself staring at your face instead of the ships.

“We should probably…” You trail off and he snaps out of his immobility.

His hearts ache when you secure your mask once more, already missing seeing your full face when you speak.

The Pykes joining his army this easily is a welcome surprise, and so is Pre Vizsla’s sudden keenness to further the assembly of it.

The Hutts, however, evidently aren’t so eager, which the knife floating inches away from his head indicates.

Bounty Hunters start closing in from almost every direction, and a shootout ensues. Maul watches you in the corner of his eye, ready to use the force to pull you away from any danger: With no protective armor and unable to block the blaster bolts, he worries you might be at risk, though a quick observation proves the opposite to be true; bodies fall to the ground all around you, and your movements are quick enough for shooters to fail at targeting you.

Still, the growing number of enemy fighters forces the small Death Watch squad to retreat to where their reinforcements are waiting.

The Mandalorians do a decent job at pushing back against the bounty hunters, but a sudden attack from the ceiling catches Maul off guard and pushes him to the ground. Two bounty hunters attack from their hide, one accompanied by an Anooba that instantly jumps onto Maul, causing him to drop his lightsaber.

He attempts to wrestle the beast off him, but its snapping jaw restrains his mobility severely, even rendering him unable to retrieve his lightsaber using the force, until through someone else, the Anooba is sent flying through the air with a pained squeak. He looks up, only to see you already fighting the zabraki woman that started the sneak attack.

Both you and Savage are gaining the upper hand over your respective opponents, prompting them to throw a smoke grenade and run away. Savage makes a move to pursue them, but your raised hand stops him.

“There is no benefit in going after them, the bounty hunters have no allegiance.”

Pre Vizsla sheathes his own saber, that very despicable smirk plastered on his face. “But you do?”

Maul follows your gaze as you look around the cave, surrounded by bodies, many of them sporting wounds that obviously stem from your weapons.

“You tell me.”

The Mandalorian laughs out, then proceeds to move back to speak to the one Hutt that hasn’t managed to escape.

Making him talk is an easy feat, as was to be expected from a Hutt - put a lightsaber to their neck, and they sing like a bird.

After disposing of the slug-like creature, some of the Mandalorians still busy themselves with looting the dead bodies, something that is not necessary anymore now that they have an army and resources, but years of living hidden must have caused this instinctual reaction. Maul’s feet automatically carry him over to where he sees you around a corner wiping your blade, distanced from the others.

Once you spot him, your eyes scan the surroundings, then you pull down your mask. Every time you do that, Maul swears he feels his hearts stutter a little bit - a strangely physical reaction for a man usually so in control of every cell in his body.

With your sleeve, you wipe off a few blood splutters that are nothing in comparison to your attire which is covered in several stains of blood as Maul notices upon looking closer.

“That is … a lot of blood,” He remarks.

“Not mine,” you counter, and the situation reminds him so much of Cato Neimoidia that he loses all previous inhibition. Finally he closes the distance between you and crashes his lips into yours, crowding you against the wall. The feeling of your lips is familiar, yet so surreal as they move against his with the same fervor that he is feeling. One hand tangles inside your hair beneath the hood, the other sliding up and down your sides, wanting to memorize every little dip and curve of your body before he loses you again.

A small gasp escapes you when he tugs on your hair, allowing him easy access to your mouth, uncaring of the growing need for air and relying purely on his force abilities to warn him before someone sees the two of you.

“You’re taller now,” you mumble against him in the small time frame that you break away to catch your breath.

“You don’t seem to mind,” he retorts just as out of breath as you are, ecstatic that you so clearly still want him when your arms wrap around his neck to pull him in again.

“I missed you,” you breathe right before reconnecting your lips with his, and he tries to tell you the same with the way he kisses you back.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind that is intoxicated with you, he senses a person coming closer, forcing him to pull away and signal you to put your mask back on should you not want your face to be known by others.

He steps away from you not one second too early; his brother rounds the corner the moment your mask is fastened with a quiet ‘click’.

“Brother, we are ready to depart in-” He does not finish his sentence, eyes flicking back and forth between you in an attempt to interpret the way you are standing a few feet away from each other awkwardly. It’s only now that Maul sees that your hood is almost off entirely, exposing quite ruffled hair. With a subtle flick of his fingers, he calls upon the force to lift your hood over your head further.

“We will be there momentarily.”

____

notes: YAY, FIRST CHAPTER! And this time, I even have a plot prepared ... Is it good? I don't know. But do I have it? I sure do. I hope you liked this very, very chaotic first chapter. I'll try to keep the majority of the story separate from actual clone wars episodes so that I have a little more freedom and not as many jumps in time, but to be honest I really wanted to start out during 'Eminence', so that's that. There will be a few POV changes in the next chapters as well, but it will mostly be you!

Comment or message anytime if you want to be tagged!

@princessayveke ; @spaghetti-666 ; @noiralei ; @larawl ; @secretnerd00 ; @bagpipes606 ; @zabrak-show ; @brilliantbutbatty ; @eleine-t1d

#maul #darth maul #darth maul x reader #darth maul x you #maul x reader #maul x you #sith #swtcw #star wars fanfiction #star wars x you

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johannesviii · 4 years ago

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Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2020

You know, when I finished my latest list and realised every decade had the same pattern and that we were slowly going towards a series of great years for pop, I didn’t realise how good that year would be.

What’s at the top? Am I boringly predictable because I already said I loved that song all the way back in January 2020? Let’s find out.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will probably be stuff in French somewhere on this post. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

So. Uh. How was your 2020?

Mine was actually surprisingly good, considering. I’m lucky enough to have a job that I can partially do from home, and I was extremely paranoid from the get-go and nobody got sick under this roof so far. Turns out I’m even better at my job from home and I got permission to work from home one day per week even after the health crisis is over! My first name was also finally officially approved and I can’t tell you how happy I feel about that. I almost feel bad to have had such a good year considering the circumstances. I feel like an asshole just because I’m happy, haha.

The only frustrating part was that I was supposed to see Hatari in concert in Paris in early April which, as you can guess, was cancelled. I’m not too mad about it though, since their tour was called “Europe will crumble” and the message saying the tour was cancelled started with “since Europe is actually crumbling due to Covid-19″ and that’s hysterical.

Good or interesting albums that came out in 2020 now, let’s see.

Nightwish released Human/Nature, which was a huge letdown compared to their previous album, but I will relisten to it at some point to make sure I wasn’t just in a bad mood that day.

The Birthday Massacre released Diamonds, which might be their weakest album since their debut, but contained some real gems (I listened to The Last Goodbye on a loop, it floored me. Flashback and Enter are also very good).

The 1975 released Notes On A Conditional Form, and let’s be real, it’s a f█cking mess. You could cut half the tracks and end up with an excellent album, but as it is it’s like, yes, a collection of notes ; however there’s some truely excellent shit on it (see unelligible songs).

Thanks to a friend on a discord server I was exposed to Dorian Electra’s music and I haven’t been quite the same ever since. I’m so happy to be alive to see other enbies making such great music with an insanely good aesthetic surrounding it and asking so many interesting questions about gender. Also the arc the ‘gentleman’ character goes through over the course of the entire tracklist of the 2020 My Agenda album is absolutely hilarious, don’t @ me.

I also discovered 100 Gecs this year. Why are most of you guys saying it’s unlistenable garbage. It’s just as abrasive and over the top as industrial music is, but with none of the edginess or drama. I love it. What the hell. But yeah Tree of Clues was released this year. Good.

Speaking of industrial, in March 2020 Nine Inch Nails were like “hey remember when we released Ghosts I-IV a decade ago entirely for free and how amazing that was? Well we’re all in lockdown and bored as hell so here’s Ghosts V-VI and it’s also free. Enjoy” and I f█cking died instantly. And it’s even better than I-IV. What the hell was that year

Jonsi released Shiver. It’s strange and highly experimental. I’m pretty sure it’s a good thing I was into hyperpop this year, otherwise going from his previous material straight to this album would have been brutal.

Yadda yadda yadda After Hours by the Weeknd good yadda yadda.

I’ve joked about that already but if you had told me in 2019 that 2020 would have fires, a pandemic, riots, monoliths appearing and disappearing, and also a super good Machine Gun Kelly album, guess which part I would have found the most ridiculous. But yeah uh. Tickets to my Downfall good

So uh this year I tried to listen to some hyperpop and liked it a lot, and I also dipped my toes timidly into screamo and listened to Svalbard, who released When I Die this year, and the entire album was a very beautiful, very intricately decorated punch to the face. It sounds like God Is An Astronaut except with a shit ton of yelling. I love it. Open Wound is my favorite track on it.

But no, despite all of this, my album of the year was from a band I had never even heard about before that year, called Spanish Love Songs. The album is titled Brave Faces Everyone and it’s line after line after line of extremely relatable generational angst but yelled with complete sincerity and it’s so propulsive and energetic you can’t help but feel both exhausted and ready to fight the entire universe. I don’t know how it works, but it’s incredible. The entire album is wonderfully brutal, so it’s kind of difficult to pick my favorite songs on it, but Beachfront Property and the title track stand out.

Unelligible songs, now, and there’s, uh, quite a few of them too so I’m also gonna use bullet points. Good lord this post is gonna be long.

First, let me say I have literally no idea why Midnight Sky by Miley Cyrus wasn’t a bigger hit. It’s not on the year-end US top 100 and it feels extremely wrong. Would have made it to #4 on this list otherwise.

I still entertain the vague hope that stuff from Machine Gun Kelly will chart higher in 2021 but I doubt it will happen so I might as well tackle it now and say that Bloody Valentine and especially Forget Me Too are both excellent and that it’s a shame radios aren’t playing them more often.

Heaven by the late Avicii featuring Coldplay should have charted in 2019 and still didn’t chart in 2020 and that’s a real shame.

If the world was a bit less unfair, Lovesick Girls by Blackpink would have been a hit rather than the awful Ice Cream.

One day I will stop complaining about my bafflement concerning the lack of mainstream pop charts success of The 1975. Today is not that day. I just love how they keep making songs about extremely awkward relationships full of weird details, and I haven’t grown tired of that yet. So yeah If You’re Too Shy is about a guy who’s crush is asking him to get naked on Skype in his hotel room and he’s, uh, not too sure about that idea.

And Me & You Together is about a guy who never finds the right moment to tell his best friend he’s in love with her, and he manages to do so at the end and it’s cute as hell. My fave part is “I'm sorry that I'm kinda queer / It's not as weird as it appears / It's 'cause my body doesn't stop me (Stop me) / Oh, it's okay, lots of people think I'm gay / But we're friends, so it's cool, why would it not be?”. Relatable as f█ck.

And now for an international hit that should have been bigger in the US and/or in my country but wasn’t: Head & Heart by Joel Corry and MNEK.

I’ve heard Nos Célébrations by Indochine extremely often on French radio for months now so I was very surprised to see that it didn’t crack the local year-end list. What happened.

I can finally hear the appeal of Bring Me The Horizon. It took me ages. And also Death Stranding. The song Ludens isn’t in the game per say, but it’s among the ones you can pick to broadcast briefly when people drive by your constructions, and long story short it's been living rent-free in my head for months now.

Phew.

It’s time for a round of Honorable Mentions for elligible songs, containing a couple of guilty pleasures, which is saying something considering the kind of shit I put on some of my previous lists.

Ne Reviens Pas (Gradur et Heuss l’Enfoiré) - Heuss is a French artist that kept baffling me while making my lists for the previous years, and I was like “??? ok, that’s it then, I guess I’m getting too old to get what teenagers find funny”. This one worked for me, though. And the music video doesn’t hurt. Really dumb and really fun.

Adore You (Harry Styles) - Perfectly good little pop song, very pleasant to listen to, never outstayed its welcome for me.

Mood (24kGoldn) - This doesn’t sound like a very good relationship, my dude, but that’s still a super pleasant song.

WAP (Cardi B & Megan Thee Stallion) - This song is absolutely hilarious and I will hear no argument from any of you.

Control (Zoe Wees) - Was clearly a hit here. Should have been even bigger though. What a powerful but comfy voice. If I had better taste it would be on the list.

Hot Girl Bummer (Blackbear) - I. Uh. Listen. I keep saying I have bad taste and nobody believes me. Do you believe me now. But yeah. “F█ck you, and you, and you~, I hate your friends and they hate me too” is gonna pop in my head every single time someone is being a jerk anywhere near me now. It’s been happening all year already. Someone trashed my documents at work? Someone isn’t wearing a mask in public? That guy has filled his car with rolls of toilet paper? Brain goes “F█ck you, and you, and you~”. Every. Single. Time.

Come & Go (Juice WRLD & Marshmello ) - Damn, that’s a pretty good little song. I’ve seen plenty of people saying it’s ruined by the drop, but may I remind you I’m the person who loves Blue by Eiffel 65 with all my heart. If the song was ramping up consistently until the end instead of ending like that, it would have made the list, definitely.

And now, the actual list. This one actually feels pretty solid, I genuinely like everything on it, there’s no filler here for once.

10 - The Box (Roddy Rich)

US: #3 / FR: #23

Now this is a weird case, because for the longest time I couldn’t figure out why this song was so popular and I was completely neutral about it. Then, one morning in September, my mental jukebox (which always, always puts a song on a loop in my head when I wake up) decided to play it. And I was like oh wow?? I never noticed the atmosphere in that song before? It’s so great. And that hook too. Let’s listen to it.

So yeah, I don’t know what happened. It just clicked one day and everything fell into place, I guess.

9 - Alane (Wes & Robin Shulz)

US: Not on the list / FR: #93

Come on. You can’t do a remake of one of my previous #1 songs and let it chart in 2020. That’s cheating. Even with this subpar drop, I have to put it on the list, now.

I’ve already said my piece about the original, so I’m just going to send you back to my 1997 list.

8 - Kings and Queens (Ava Max)

US: Not on the list / FR: #76

[BBC documentary voice] After Lady Gaga decided to make piano balads and left her musical niche vacant, Ava Max quickly took her place as the top predator pop diva. Even after Lady Gaga was re-introduced to her natural habitat in 2020, she still hasn’t fully recovered in Europe, where Ava Max still reigns supreme on the charts -

(tldr I think it’s hilarious that this isn’t on the US Billboard while Lady Gaga isn’t on the French year-end top 100)

7 - Roses (Saint Jhn & Imanbek)

US: #19 / FR: #3

What an earworm. It doesn’t even bother trying to have an intro or an outro, so it loops almost perfectly. It’s like entering a party that started long before you arrived, and it will go on long after you leave it to go back home. Kind of hypnotic in a way.

And yes, my mental jukebox was very fond of using it to wake me up this year, so this is another song that’s here almost solely because of that.

6 - Physical (Dua Lipa)

US: Not on the list / FR: #69 (hehehe)

“Hey I’m not that old” says the guy who’s definitely a sucker for this kind of retro throwback that was so popular this year. Oh well.

I don’t have anything interesting to say about this one, though. Apart from the fact that everyone seems to have a different fave song on that album. Guess that’s quality for you.

5 - Rain on Me (Lady Gaga & Ariana Grande)

US: #48 / FR: Not on the list

That is far from being Lady Gaga’s best song, but it was a joy to listen to everytime it was on the radio anyway. Also Ariana Grande has surprisingly good chemistry with Gaga! This year was full of strange duets mostly made for commercial reasons, and this one isn’t an exception, but unlike a lot of them, it really, really works.

4 - Dynamite (BTS)

US: #38 / FR: Not on the list

I’m still not 100% sold on k-pop even if a ton of it sounds super good, but come on. Even if some bits of this song (especially the beginning of the second chorus) sound a bit like they were made on autopilot, it still sounds just as happy and fun several months after I first heard it and I never got tired of it. That’s quality. You hear it and you can’t help but tap your feet and smile.

Actually, I’m sure there’s people somewhere that don’t smile when they hear this song. And they must be avoided at all costs.

3 - Godzilla (Eminem ft Juice WRLD)

US: #62 / FR: Not on the list

What are you doing so high on this list, old man. Why are you still here in the year 2020. I thought we left you in the previous decade. Who gave you the right.

I’m gonna tell you who did, and it’s actually Juice WRLD. Because that chorus is incredible, and like a lot of people I’m pissed off because the guy died super young and this shit shouldn’t happen to anybody. No, his early material wasn’t great, but I’m sorry I’m gonna say it again: have you heard this damn chorus? It’s suspenseful and dark, it’s got this lowkey menacing quality, it’s an earworm and a half, and it’s more convincing in like six lines than Eminem’s own flexing is in the entire song.

The beat is extremely good as well, and the flow, obviously, impressive. The weakest link is Eminem’s writing, which is as usual full of puns and weird wordplay, except here a lot of it isn’t great, and that last ultra fast part at the end is technically impressive but it also drives the song up a cliff and stops it dead in its tracks once it’s over. But frankly the lines fly by so fast it’s difficult to be too annoyed by them.

Can I sincerely put this extremely flawed song so high on my list? A better question would be “did I spend hours trying to learn how to sing this shit without choking on my own spit?”. The answer is yes. To both.

2 - Heartless (The Weeknd)

US: #28 / FR: Not on the list

I’ve said it on my 2015 and 2016 lists already, but just for the record I’ll say it again: it took me ages to like The Weeknd, mostly because I found most of his songs fairly boring, or disliked the lyrics, or both. Also I never really liked the general vibe of his “sexy” songs like The Hills, they felt dark but in an unpleasant creepy way. Felt like miserable hedonism, if that makes sense.

So, because I’m a person with extremely consistent and logical tastes, here’s the exact same shit he was making before, except that this time I absolutely adore it.

What is he doing differently that makes the whole After Hours album click for me whereas almost all of his previous material failed to do so? Is it the energy? Is it the reverb? Is it the fact that the narrator sounds properly unhinged and, frankly, scared to be spiralling out of control? Why are the colors so beautiful yet full of anxiety? Why is that bridge so fantastic? How can you make your voice look like a glowstick in the dark?

I give up. I have no clue. At least I’m done talking about-

Oh.

1 - Blinding Lights (The Weeknd)

US: #1 / FR: #1 (listen sometimes something’s just that good, ok)

Surprise. Or not.

Wow, look at that, Johannes has put this year’s number one pop song at number one on their personal playlist. The audacity. The edge. What a hot take.

I discovered that song when it first came out at the end of 2019 and I adored it instantly. And I was so scared it wouldn’t be a hit. Which means I’m a f█cking dumbass considering it ended up breaking all sorts of records in 2020. But what can I say, overplay can be a blessing when you love a song that much.

Like every single song I put at number one on one of my lists, I will draw this one at some point and you will understand how incredibly satisfying it is to listen to a song called Blinding Lights, talking about city lights looking blurry when you’re driving at night, while looking itself like a bunch of blurry city lights passing by super fast. Perfect in every way.

Also it sounds exactly like A-ha, and that never hurts.

See you next year! Pretty sure it will be even better music-wise.

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

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youarejesting · 4 years ago

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Forever (finale)

Rating: Teen and Up Genre: Mystery, Romance, Drama, Action, Angst, Paranormal. Pairing: Yoongi x Reader Summary: In Bightville there is never any nonsense, the scariest thing one might face is tripping at the roller-disco. But, when you move to the small town, crazy things start to happen. Suddenly people are going missing without any leads. It’s when your neighbor Seokjin goes missing that things get serious because now his friends suspect you!

Announcement: It’s the end and oh my gosh I love it...

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [The End]

“It’s been decided Jungkook and Jimin will head out quietly and try to find this opening, they will radio back if they find it, and then we will head out in teams of two” Seokjin sighed the man was looking tired the days in the spirit world was causing him to look more tired and withered.

“Wait so some of us have to wait here alone?” Hoseok said concerned he didn’t want to be one of the last, he would definitely be one of the members of the second team.

“We can’t all go at once there would be a higher chance of us being spotted and I don’t think we are all wanting to fight one of those things” Namjoon explained and they nodded.

The two boys got dressed holding their makeshift weapons and headed out walkie talkie in hand, their instructions to only use it when necessary. They moved quickly and quietly down the hall until they turned down the stairs out of sight. The group waited.

Half an hour passed and you sat in the corner laying your head back against the wall, something about this place sucked the warmth from your form. Yoongi slid down the wall pressing his side against yours to keep you warm.

You all almost ran out of hope when Namjoon spoke up, “there isn’t much we can do, until we hear back from them”

“What if we don’t?”

“Then we send another two out to find them or the exit”

“I hate this plan?” Taehyung muttered scuffing his foot through the dirt

“It’s the only plan we have?” Seokjin offered using his calm voice in an authoritative manner.

“Hey we found it, we are here?” a voice called over static “you need to get around the side of the house and into the cellar the doors are open and you take the stairs down and head through the web.

“Alright” Seokjin said “Namjoon and I will head out next, Namjoon will need to be careful so we will give him as much time as he needs to get through that web. I will wait near the entrance for the next teams to come along until we are all out”

The next too left and it was barely fifteen minutes before Taehung and Hoseok left kind of rushed.

That left you and Yoongi with Johnny who looked down at his leg wrapped firmly around a broken table leg.

“It might be easier to go without me” he scoffed

“Not like anyone really missed me anyway, the hardly even know me”

“You’re Johnny, you play the piano we had the same piano teacher, remember and you can draw really well” Yoongi scoffed “your family is worried and the school has been trying to find out where you went”

“We should get ready to go” Yoongi said helping you up off the ground. He handed you his jacket and you smiled at how his scent lingered in the fabric enjoying the calming effect it had on you. He took the two lapels and slowly zipped them together.

You two grinned helping Johnny to his feet and it was a slow process of traveling through the school and the streets towards your house. It was hard but you were keeping out of sight and traveling. They see the other group moving and Seokjin in the distance signalling for them to wait as Hoseok and Taehyung head through.

In their haste Hoseok tripped over your younger snot nosed brothers bike -the very same you stressed he clean up every day- bumping the web the two boys race through the web.

You knew they were coming and in a split second you three ran across the lawn, racing your best through the web with Seokjin helping Johnny through in front of you. You could hear them coming, the hands of the boys in the real world reaching out to pull you through the burrow between the worlds. When you felt something grab the jacket, your name softly spoken you turned to see Yoongi. He gave you a forlorn look and he pressed his lips to yours. He kissed you hard and pushed you into the arms. Running from the webs and the siren on the walkie talkie blaring as he ran further away.

The hands were pulling you through the portal and you were a mess of tears struggling, unable to see, you finally found the perfect guy, he didn’t expect you to fit the norms as he definitely didn’t fit them either.

You were in the basement of your home unable to see as everything was burned with tears, Yoongi’s voice came over the walkie talkie in a pant, he was running still alive, still fighting, “Y/n, did you get through?”

You sobbed scrambling across the floor to get the walkie talkie “I am okay, where are you, you have to come through. You have to get back here and come through -”

“They are filling the web, I don’t know how long we have ?” Jungkook said keeping this end of the web firmly pressed shut clawed arms busting through

“Shut it down” Yoongi said calmly over the radio “I am surrounded”

“No, I will go back in and fight them off” You hissed, the ache in your chest burning and tight making it hard to breathe “You promised”

“I’m sorry” He whispered

“You promised, we were going to see kingkong, you promised” the words were barely legible but he understood.

“I did promise, but maybe some other time love,” He took a shaky breath, “shut it down kook”

They ripped apart the objects around the crawl space in the wall effectively ripping apart the connection between the two worlds.

You were all found in the basement crying, your parents were confused and the police were called, you were all interrogated and you explained everything as it happened sparing no detail on the abnormal. That night you were inconsolable, crying in your bed, the jacket clutched in your hands the words ‘It’s okay not to be okay’, breaking you more.

The police wrote it off as drugs and judging from the injuries and the extensive amounts of mud and dirt on their clothes they assumed the group had ventured into the woods. For some cult business. It took a week before the investigation was called off, they found Yoongi’s boot on the edge of the river and called it an accidental drug related death.

The funeral for Yoongi was small, his parents weren’t upset rather annoyed, you heard them in the next room blaming him. “If he didn’t die, I wouldn’t be here” His father frowned

“I don’t know how he lasted this long,” his older sister hissed

“Can you believe they want me to pay $1,000 for his funeral, he doesn’t even have a body,” His father sighed

“Be thankful he was dumb enough to die in the river, otherwise you would be paying more” His sister called

“Where is that bastards mother?” He sighed “Why am I paying for him, I haven’t even seen him since we split, and yet here I am the one having to pay”

Biting your lip, you were grabbed by Namjoon who lead you out to Yoongi’s car, “we took some stuff from his house, before his family could throw it away and um, if there is anything you like please feel free to take it.”

You found a few shirts and jackets with some slogans that made you feel like he was still supporting you even when he wasn’t here. But it was when you came across a collection of cassettes that you pause in confusion, Jimin laughed. “Yoongi has a tendency to write songs about everyone he meets,”

You watched him fondly touch the cassette with his name on it, you pulled out one with your name on it. The letters written in such unique handwriting that was very yoongi, laid back but simple. Jimin pulled out another titled ‘a night with her and the boys’. “Try this one too, it might be good”

You took his recording system in hopes you could listen to his work in your home and feel that connection with him. Heading straight up to your room ignoring all distractions. Setting up the machine you began by slipping in the cassette and placing on the headphones.

It was beautiful, the sound was beautiful and the song spoke of your beauty, but when the chorus hit, the drums, guitar and synth came in and he spoke about your personality. You were laughing, he summed you up so well, you felt your heart swell in the last line.

What a bitch.

She’s hot and she knows it.

And I can’t stop thinking about her.

It had you in stitches. You switched the song over to ‘a night with her and the boys’ and you couldn’t help but cry, he told a story about noticing you and the feelings you were trying to hide. He sang about you coming clean of your emotions, said he would protect you even though you didn’t need it, that he wanted to hold you because you looked so cold.

The song ended but there was more space left on the tape, you listened for thirty seconds but their didn’t seem to be anything on it. You took the small microphone and spoke into the machine, “I don’t know um how this works, but I love you” Turning it off you went to the shower, when you came back it was running, the tape had reached the end. Rewinding it you played it through, again while finding something to wear to bed.

When the song reached the end, you had finally found a warm set of pajama pants that you matched with one of yoongi’s shirts. You buried your face in the collar breathing in the scent, you went to turn of the machine which was whirring. “I don’t know um how this works, but I love you”.

You were embarrassed quickly rushing to turn it off, “God I am so embarrassing,”

“It’s so nice to hear your voice, I love you too, are you doing alright?”

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [The End]

Tags: @valmyarmy @knjkitten @jooniesdimples70307 @rosita7703

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imaginetonyandbucky · 4 years ago

Text

Keeping Me Alive

Chapter 3: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War

by @dracusfyre

Weeks later, Tony was staring at the picture of Maria, Ana, and Jarvis on his nightstand while he waited for the woman in bed beside him to fall asleep, listening to her breathing until it steadied and slowed. The picture was barely more than a square-shaped shadow in the darkness of his room, too dimly lit for him to see it properly, but he knew what it looked like, the curve of every smile and the lines at the corners of his mother’s eyes. Sometimes, if he closed his eyes and concentrated he could remember how happy he’d been when this photo was taken; on good days, the memory made him smile, but on nights like tonight he was reminded that this photo came from a whole other lifetime and that all the people in it were dead. Nights like tonight he wondered if he’d ever be that happy again and debated whether he should keep the damn thing at all. With a silent sigh, he rolled over to stare at the ceiling and tried to think of the woman’s name so that he could write her a note for the morning, but it wouldn’t come to him. He wondered if he could get away with something generic or not mentioning a name at all, and finally just decided to have Ms. Potts deal with it.

When he was sure she was asleep, he slid out from beneath the sheets and grabbed a shirt, pulling it on as he slipped out of the bedroom. He went to the kitchen and scrubbed his face with his hands as he turned on the coffee pot; he’d hoped to get some sleep tonight, but apparently no such luck.

He stood in the dark kitchen for as long as it took for the coffee to brew, watching the green digits on the oven tick away the minutes. The spitting and burbling of the coffee pot and the slight hum of the refrigerator kept the silence from being too oppressive, while moonlight from the windows cast an intermittent streak of bright white over the floor and countertop as clouds came and went across the sky. Nights were always the worst because the ghosts always came out at night; the quiet stillness made his thoughts that much louder and the loneliness that much harder to bear.

Finally the coffee was done; he filled up a thermos and went down to his workshop, breathing a little easier as JARVIS turned the lights on as he opened the door. He sipped on the coffee as he wandered through the projects in various stage of completion, running idle fingertips over pieces that needed to be attached, parts to be machined, circuits assembled; some of these were for Stark Industries, some for Tony’s own curiosity, but one or two were for Stane. He avoided those for now, not interested in making his dark mood any worse.

On the far side of the workshop that doubled as his garage, Howard’s classic hot rod was still partially disassembled as Tony tried to find the source of a persistent oil leak. That was as good a project as any to pass the hours, and maybe if he was lucky, he would be able to catch a few hours of rest on the couch before morning.

Tony woke up as Ms. Pott’s heels rang out on the stairs coming down to the workshop, jarring him out of an unpleasant dream that dissipated upon waking. Sitting up, he stretched, wincing at the crick in his neck and the headache behind his eyes.

“Late night, Boss?” Ms. Potts said, voice cool. Tony’s eyebrows drew together; usually when she found him asleep in the work shop she greeted him with brisk sympathy and a soft smile. Then he remembered the lady upstairs that he’d texted her about in the middle of the night and let out a silent sigh.

“Good morning to you too,” he said. Her only response was to give him a dry look as she made room for a stack of papers and started going over his schedule for today. No mercy from her, then, he concluded with a quirk of his lips. He stood and shuffled over to the half-drunk thermos of coffee from last night and drank it cold, rifling through the papers as he listened with half an ear.

Partway through the stack, he froze. It was a newspaper, folded innocuously amid quarterly reports and departmental audits. He reached out to pick it up and realized his hands were shaking. Closing his eyes, he inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to get his heart to stop racing. Ms. Potts was still talking as he spread out the newspaper and flipped through it quickly; whatever Obadiah was trying to tell him, it wouldn’t be subtle.

There – page 10. An article circled twice in black pen. Defector Assassinated in Trafalgar Square. Tony didn’t need to read the article to get the message. The only way out of Hydra is death. Obadiah liked leaving him these little reminders, tugging Tony’s leash a little so he wouldn’t forget that it was there.

“And then, of course, you have the flight to Afghanistan this afternoon,” Ms. Potts said, and Tony barely kept himself from cursing. “Remember?”

“Of course,” Tony lied. “The, uh..."

"Jericho demonstration,” Ms. Potts finished for him.

"Right." He put the coffee down, suddenly queasy. The demo was ostensibly for the US military to sell the weapons, but Tony knew that they weren't the real audience; the Russians, the Iranians, and every other little tin-pot dictator would be sent videos and specs from the inaugural firing of Stark Industries’ latest missile tech, and then the real bidding war would start. Hydra would rake in more money and influence, Stane’s star would continue to rise, and then Stane would come over with a pizza and some whiskey and talk about how glad he was that he hadn’t killed Tony when he was younger (Pierce wanted me to, but I said no, this boy’s got a gift. Tony had heard it many times).

“I have a few things for you to sign before your trip,” Ms. Potts said, reading off the titles of the documents as she set them in front of him to sign. “And there are some charities that are asking you for personal donations, did you want to-”

“Sure,” Tony said, flipping through the documents to make sure he’d signed everything, the blanks helpfully highlighted for his convenience.

“Sure? What does that mean, ‘sure’? You haven’t even looked at the list.”

Tony handed her back the papers and smiled brightly. “Send them all a donation, however much they are asking for.”

“All of them?” Pepper asked skeptically.

“Do I have enough money?”

“Well, of course, but-”

“Then send them all something,” Tony said. It was blood money anyway, might as well do some good with it. “Pick your favorites and send them double.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said after a moment, clearly deciding that it wasn’t worth the fight.

“Anything else?” He asked, pasting a smile on his face.

She checked her watch. “You’ve got thirty minutes before London calls,” she said pointedly, and Tony got her point and went to take a shower and get dressed.

The fact that he was flying to Afghanistan with Rhodey was the only thing that made the trip bearable; dread was a rock in his stomach, a weight on his limbs, growing worse every time he looked at the clock. The next day, as the wind from the Jericho’s blast ruffled his clothes, Tony felt a chill despite the heat of the Afghan desert. Amidst the excited chatter of the military officers, Tony moved mechanically to the portable bar, pouring himself a stiff rum and coke to try to wash the taste of shame from his mouth.

“Good job, Tones,” Rhodey said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Everyone’s going to be talking about this for weeks, we’re all very excited.”

“It’s what we do,” Tony said with a thin smile, saluting his friend with his glass. Behind his dark wraparound sunglasses, the world seemed one step removed, muffled and dim; he felt like he was watching himself as he smiled and shook hands with the Army and Air Force brass, as they all climbed back into the Humvees, as he joked with the awed soldiers riding with him (keep them laughing, they don’t see when they laugh. He’d learned that in college).

But when the vehicle in front of them flipped over with a bone-rattling roar and burst of flame, he was thrown back into his body with a gasp. Suddenly the world was too close, too loud, too much; the roar of gunfire, the painful glare of the sun on white sand, the acrid scent of burnt metal. The screaming and shouting, the heat of the sand, and the way the S of Stark Industries stood out against the silver metal of the missile as it ticked loudly next to him-

#tony stark #Bucky Barnes #tony x bucky #winteriron

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thelittlesttimelord · 4 years ago

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The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 38

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 38 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 38/? SUMMARY: Elise Smith is now a teenaged Timelord. In addition to losing the Ponds, the fields of Trenzalore are calling. But first they have to figure out exactly who Clara Oswald is.

[A/N - I’m having so much fun with Elise and the Cyberplanner. I have a special conversation planned for them in the next chapter.]

They found Angie with the platoon.

“Angie! Angie!” Clara yelled, running up to her.

“She always has to turn up and spoil everything. I wasn't doing anything. Why can't you just leave me alone?”

There was a loud crash and a Cyberman came stomping in.

“Cyberman! Attack formation!” the captain yelled.

The Cyberman moved faster than Elise had ever seen one move before. A man rushed forward, but the Cyberman batted him away.

“No! Attack formation, quickly.”

The platoon started shooting at the Cyberman, while the Doctor grabbed Clara and Elise and pulled them away.

“Upgrade in progress,” the Cyberman said.

“Angie!” Clara yelled.

The Cyberman grabbed Angie and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her off.

“Angie!” Clara rushed after the Cyberman, but the Doctor grabbed her and pulled her back.

“Clara. Clara!”

“That was a Cyberman. But they're extinct,” the captain said.

“Well clearly they’re not,” Elise snapped.

“Listen to me. I will get her back,” the Doctor told Clara. He walked over to the captain. “Captain, a word please. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but I take it your platoon doesn't do much fighting.”

“What do you expect?”

“What?” Clara asked.

“We're a punishment platoon. It's why they sent us out here, so we can't get into trouble.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.”

“Right, right, well, okay.” The Doctor took the captain’s insignia and pinned it to Clara’s jacket. “As Imperial Consul, I'm putting Clara in charge. Clara, stay alive until I get back, and don't let anyone blow up this planet.” He grabbed Elise by the arm and they started to leave.

“Is that something they're likely to do?” Clara asked.

“Get to somewhere defensible.”

“Where are you going?”

“I'm getting Angie, finding Artie and looking for funny insects. Stay alive. And you lot, no blowing up this planet!”

The Doctor and Elise left.

“Why exactly am I coming with you? You could have left me with Clara,” Elise said.

The Doctor turned to her. “Because Clara can handle it. I need you to have my back.”

“I always do. You know that.”

The Doctor smiled. “I know you do. Now come on.”

They made their way back to Webley’s room.

“Artie?” the Doctor called.

A small Cybermat sat on an end table.

“I knew it looked familiar,” Elise said.

“Firstly, if anybody's watching this, those children are under my protection. I'm coming to get them. And secondly, little metal machine, you are beautiful,” the Doctor told it. He soniced it and then picked it up. “Not even a Cybermat any more, eh? Cybermites.”

“They’ve upgraded.”

The Doctor gave Elise a smirk and she playfully rolled her eyes.

“Shut-up.”

The Doctor carried the Cybermite into the chess room, where he soniced it again. “Now, there's a local transmat link open to your home. If I can just find the frequency…”

Elise and the Doctor appeared in a lab.

“Hey, that really shouldn't have worked,” the Doctor said.

“Doctor, help us,” they heard Artie say.

“Angie? Artie?” The Doctor ran over to the two children.

They were standing completely still with blinking devices attached to their temples.

Webley stepped out of the shadows, half of his face looking like a Cyberman.

“Webley.”

“We needed children, but the children had stopped coming. You brought us children. Hail to you, the Doctor, savior of the Cybermen!”

“Excuse me?” Elise asked.

“As the battle raged between humanity and the Cyberiad, the Cyberplanners built a Valkyrie, to save critically damaged units and bring them here, and one by one, repair them.”

“The people who vanished from the amusement park, they were spare parts for repairs,” the Doctor said.

“We've upgraded ourselves. The next model will be undefeatable.”

“Nothing's undefeatable.”

“We needed children to build a new Cyberplanner. A child's brain, with its infinite potential, is perfect for our needs. But we no longer need the children. The Cybermites have been scanning your brain, Doctor. It's quite remarkable.”

Elise stepped in front of her father. “Over my dead body.”

Webley cocked his head at her. “Is that an offer?”

“I’d be completely useless to you. Cybermen use human parts. I'm not human. You can't convert non-humans,” the Doctor said.

“Well, that was true a long time ago. But we've upgraded ourselves. Current Cyberunits use almost any living components,” Webley told him. Webley knocked Elise aside and threw the Cybermites onto the Doctor.

“No!” Elise yelled.

The Cybermites burrowed into the left side of his face.

“Incorporated. Yes. Ah. Unfamiliar pulmonary set-up. Nervous system hyperconductive. Remarkable brain processing speed. Ho, ho. Amazing,” the Doctor spoke in a different, more sinister, voice.

He jerked and was once again himself. “Get out of my head!”

Elise could only watch in horror as the Doctor switched between himself and the Cyberplanner.

“Stop rummaging in my mind.”

“Just you try and stop me. Ooo, who's Clara. Why are you thinking about her so much?”

“Enough.”

“Fascinating. A complete mental block. Highly effective. Relax, relax. If you just relax, you will find this a perfectly pleasant experience. You are being upgraded and incorporated into the Cyberiad as a Cyberplanner.”

“Get out of my head! What is this place, a network? A hive? You're getting signals from every Cyberman everywhere. How many of you are there?”

“Oh, this is brilliant. I'm so clever already, and now I'm a million times more clever.” The Cyberplanner spun in circles around the room. “And what a brain. Not a human brain, not even slightly human. I mean, I'm going to have to completely rework the neural interface, but this is going to be the most efficient Cyberplanner!”

The Cyberplanner jumped up on the pedestal in the room. “Not a great name, that, is it? I could call myself Mister Clever. So much raw data. Time Lords. There's information on the Time Lords in here. Oh, this is just dreamy.” The Cyberplanner’s eyes fell on Elise. He jumped down and approached her.

Everything in Elise was screaming at her to run away, but she stood her ground.

“Ooo. You’re a pretty one aren’t you?”

“Get away from her!”

“Oh don’t worry. We have no intentions to harm your precious offspring.”

“Right, I'm allowing you access to memories on Time Lord regeneration.”

The Cyberplanner laughed. “Fantastic!”

“I could regenerate right now. A big blast of regeneration energy, burn out any little Cyberwidgets in my brain, along with everything you're connected to. Don't want to. Use this me up, who knows what we'll get next? But I can.”

“Ah, but you wouldn’t…”

“Who says I wouldn’t?”

The Cyberplanner pointed at Elise. “It would break her hearts and you know it. Stalemate, then. One of us needs to control this head. We're too well-balanced.”

“What did you say? No, no, no, no, no. I heard you. Rhetorical device to keep me thinking about it a bit more. Stalemate.”

“We each control forty nine point eight eight one percent of this brain. Point two three eight of the brain is still in the balance. Whoever gets this gets the whole thing.”

“Do you play chess?”

“The rules of chess are in my memory banks. You're proposing we play chess to end the stalemate?”

“Winner takes all. Nobody can access that portion of the brain without winning the game.”

“You can't win!”

“Try me.”

“You understand, when I do win, the Cyberiad gets your brains and memories. All of it.” The Cyberplanner looked at Elise. “…And we get to do whatever we want with your pretty daughter.”

“When I win, you get out of my head, you let the children go, and nobody dies. You got that? Nobody dies!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elise set up the chess board.

“Why are you really with him?” the Cyberplanner asked her.

“Because he’s my father.”

“No. He’s not. You could have gone anywhere.” The Cyberplanner laughed. “Or is it because you have nowhere else to go. What happens when he tires of you? Where will you go then? You don’t have a home to go back to.”

“Stop talking to her,” the Doctor snapped.

The Cyberplanner rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

The Doctor picked up a chess piece and moved it. “There. That was easy. The game has just started.”

“Doctor, why is there no record of you anywhere in the databanks of the Cyberiad? Oh, you're good. Oh, you've been eliminating yourself from history. You know you could be reconstructed by the hole you've left.”

“Good point. I'll do something about that.”

“The rules of chess allow only a finite number of moves, and I can use other Cyberunits as remote processors. You cannot possibly win!”

“I can. I know things you don't. For example, did you know very early versions of the Cyber operating system could be seriously scrambled by exposure to things, like gold, or cleaning fluid? And what's interesting is, you're still running some of that code.”

“Really. That's your secret weapon? Cleaning fluid?”

“Nope, gold.” The Doctor pulled out the golden ticket and pressed it onto the implants, restoring him to his normal self.

“Oh ho, ho! Like a charm. Right, you, Cyber Webley, and you kid things. I'll bring the chessboard. Let's get out of here.” The Doctor picked up the chess board and they left the lab.

“You are so clever, you know that?” Elise told him.

The Doctor smiled. “Been told a time or two.”

#eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor imagines #eleventh doctor fanfiction #doctor who #Doctor Who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #clara oswald #clara oswald imagine #the littlest timelord #the littlest timelord: the fall of the eleventh #nightmare in silver

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telltheworld-phff · 4 years ago

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Part II, chapter I: Althorp

Pain.

That’s all she could feel.

The sort of pain that would irradiate from her body and made her wonder if anyone could see it, as its force was undeniably present.

She felt nothing but pain.

She could deal with the soreness on her body. It felt as if she had run a marathon.

She could also deal with the heavy cramps that she was feeling ever since she woke up. As if she needed any reminder of what had just happened. She hadn’t asked for any medication to relieve her pain because she wanted to feel it. She wanted to be punished for what she had done.

What she couldn’t deal with was the emotional pain that had destroyed her and its relentless waves that kept shaking every single thought that crossed her mind. The waves were like a tsunami that with its violence and fast approach took away and destroyed everything it touched and she was drowning. Completely and willingly.

The waves made her remember everything that had happened a few hours ago.

The waves brought an emotional pain that shattered her dreams and hopes and wishes. Mocking her, showing the failure she had been. This earth-shattering feeling turned her world, mind, life and body upside down. She didn’t even have more tears to cry as they had dried somewhere in the middle of the night.

She was alone as she had wanted to be and surrounded only by sounds. Sound of the machine she was hooked to, sounds of the clock that showed her that time was going to pass whether or not she was ready for it, the sirens of the ambulances coming in and out of the emergency ward and the cries of a new baby that was born just down the corridor from her room. She longed to have had the chance to at least listen to her child cry. To have carried her pregnancy to term and to taste the happiness this new mom was probably feeling at the moment. And yet, here she was. Empty-handed, alone, bleeding and miserable.

She wanted to get up and run, possibly hide from everyone. Should she had the strength for it, she would have. But she could barely move a finger, let alone run.

She placed one hand on her belly. The same one she caressed the growing baby just the morning before, praying with all her might and force that everyone was lying to her. Wishing this all was a very bad joke, a tasteless prank. Everyone must be wrong.

But deep inside she knew it was true.

She knew that her body had been giving signs and she didn’t pay attention to it. She worked and travelled as if she wasn’t growing a tiny human inside her and now, funny enough, she really wasn’t anymore.

Maybe it would be for the best? If she couldn’t take proper care of a baby inside her, what would happen once the baby was born?

She would be better off alone and childless as she couldn’t bear to be responsible for anyone else’s death. She took a deep breath and felt every muscle hurt, her head was about to explode. She knew she couldn't speak as she had yelled until she scarred all of her vocal cords.

Her hands and arms were purple and swollen as she had tried to unhook herself from the blood transfer bag a nurse had hooked her to close to 2 in the morning. Her hair was in knots and her hospital gown was still bloodied.

Another proof of her failure and another brutal reminder that she had just lost her child.

She had lost her everything. She had lost her will to live because nothing else made sense anymore. Her unborn baby had become the centre of her life, her strength, her reason and her motivation.

Well, not really – her malicious mind reminded her, - if this baby was that important you wouldn’t have let it die. You didn’t even fight for it, you simply passed out and almost bled yourself to death.

Pathetic.

She would never know if the baby was a boy or a girl. She would never know if he or she would have her green eyes or Harry’s blue. If its complexion would be pale as Harry, chocolate as hers or a nice mix in the between. She didn’t know if he or she would be ginger. Could she even have a ginger baby?

She wouldn’t know its face. If it would have dimples, curly or straight hair. If it’d have the unmistakable Windsor genes or it’d be a Nogueira through and through. She wouldn’t know how is it like to feel the baby moving inside her. She wouldn’t know how labour would be or if she’d chicken out from the pain and ask for a c-section straight away. She wouldn’t know if she’d be able to breastfeed – if she’d like it or if she’d prefer to buy formulas.

She wouldn’t make her mum a grandmother.

And she wouldn’t give her man a child. The child he was expecting and dreaming about. The child he had built plans for. The child he was searching for a house to transform into a home for them.

The child he was willing to give up his title for.

Everything she got now was pain and shame and guilt and grief.

Why was it happening to her? Was she that bad of a person that this would be some sort of payback?

What makes you so important that you can’t go through something like this? Her evil-filled mind asked her.

She heard footsteps on the corridor and saw her door opening. Agnes was there, smiling. The pain she felt blinded her from seeing the truth in Agnes’ eyes. She was devastated. She knew that miscarriages were a common thing between women, but she hated every time it happened to one of her patients. With Carol, it seemed she had lost her grandchild such was the esteem she held for the brunette in front of her.

She took a tentative step towards the bed and Carol noticed it was way past nine in the morning. She had been awake the whole night.

“Good morning, Carolina.” Agnes asked, getting her file and reading the notes the other nurses had written. “How are you physically feeling?” she worded her question carefully.

Carol didn’t respond. She kept staring at the clock. Fixated on it. Hearing its tic, toc. It was comforting to know that time wouldn’t wait for her to get her shit together. And time was the only thing that she wanted now.

She would give everything she had for a moment in time to stop before she lost her child. She would give everything to have more time with the baby that even though was unplanned wasn’t not even by a single second unwanted.

She wanted to rewind time and do things differently and save her baby.

She always heard that mothers fight for their children and if need be, even give their lives for them. That was what Carol wanted to do. Be a mother to this child. Give her life in exchange for his or hers. She knew Harry would take good care of their baby even if she wasn’t around.

“Carolina?” Agnes called her, firmer this time. Carol had shut her out and not even remembered that she was in the room. She didn’t blink, she just stared at the damn clock and knew that it was laughing at her expense.

“I need you to please talk to me.” Agnes said, sitting by her side on the bed.

Carol didn’t move. She couldn’t, she was paralysed watching the clock.

“I know what you must be feeling...” Agnes said.

There it was. Pity and sympathy. Two things Carol didn’t need at that moment.

“And I want you to know that I did everything that I could to save your baby.” the doctor said, grabbing one of Carol’s hands gently.

Did she really? Her brain asked.

“I want you to tell me what you want.” Agnes tried again and Carol almost laughed. She wanted her child. Alive and well. There was nothing anyone could possibly give her at the moment that would make her feel better.

“I will give you space, then.” Agnes sighed. “A nurse will come to help you take a shower and change clothes.” she got up and stared at the girl she treated like a daughter. She seemed like a shell of the woman she once was. Staring at the clock and shutting everyone out. Agnes gently left the room and took a deep breath. She could only hope that Carol would bounce back from this. If she kept giving herself into the pain for too long, she wouldn’t make it.

(…)

Harry had spent the night awake. He sat by the window of his living room with a bottle of scotch beside him. He stared at the entrance of his house for the whole night and saw when the sun rose. He had drunk half of the bottle by that time and was irritated that it didn’t give him a buzz nor lessened the pain. He thought about compartmentalising it and go out and about on his day, as he had two engagements to be at but he knew he couldn’t do it. He wanted to feel the pain and go through it while it all was still fresh. If he bottled up everything it was bound to come back exploding in the future. He also knew that Carol wouldn’t forgive him if she saw that he was smiling for the cameras and hugging kids mere hours after theirs had died.

If she speaks to you again. His mind remembered.

He had been hurt by Carol’s outburst the night before. He tried to understand where she was coming from, but he didn’t think that she’d kick him out of the room that way. He had called the hospital and Agnes informed him Carol wasn’t speaking to anyone, or eating. She had tried to rip off the IVs from her arms and hands in the middle of the night.

He took a deep breath and texted Edward to let him know that he wanted all his engagements of that damn week cancelled and rescheduled. He also wanted to reschedule all engagements that had children involved for the upcoming months as farther away as possible. He couldn’t bear to be around children when his hadn’t made it.

Agnes had talked to him after they left Carol’s room and she was confident that Carol’s case fell under the more frequently than expected, she didn’t believe Carol had any sort of condition that would make things harder to have a child in the future. Miscarriage is something very common and sometimes it might be related to other complicating issues, but in other cases, it's simply nature being faithful to its course of only the strongest and most adaptable survives.

Edward replied asking lots of questions as to why those changes were needed and Harry simply ignored him. He wouldn’t come back to work until he felt at least a little bit better.

If you feel better at any point.

He felt like a black cloud was above his head numbing his senses and at the same time swallowing him whole.

He got up and went to his room without really thinking or registering what he was doing. He took a shower, got dressed and dried the tears that kept coming every time he thought about what had happened. He had drunk the night before trying to erase from his mind the scene of the woman of his life bleeding and losing their child.

What if he had asked her to go to Kensington, where Gerard and Martha would have kept an eye on her? What if he hadn’t offered to accompany his grandmother to the engagement, therefore, arriving earlier at her place? Why didn’t she tell him anything about blood pressure problems and migraines?

He knew that “what ifs” wouldn’t bring him any closer to changing the outcome of the events. And decided he needed to keep himself busy. Getting his car keys and without letting anyone from his security team know, he drove outside Kensington Palace straight to Carol’s apartment. He let himself in and he dreaded entering her bedroom but he knew he had to get things done and if her reaction last night was any indicator, she wouldn’t deal well if she saw all that blood.

He emailed her boss letting him know that she was in the hospital and that she would keep him posted. He grabbed all the sheets and duvet, almost ripping them off the mattress with rage and threw them inside the washing machine. He cleaned the floor, the furniture and searched inch by inch of the apartment for any spot of blood. When he found none, he made her bed with new sheets and packed her an overnight bag.

He then drove straight to the back entrance of St. Mary’s, getting out of the car and ignoring all the calls on his phone. Edward, Bill, his father… he didn’t really want to talk to anyone right now.

He went straight to the private wing where half a floor had been cleared after Harry was made aware someone had just given birth a few doors down the corridor from Carol’s room. He immediately demanded they were transferred to another wing.

He knocked on her door and opened it to find only a shadow of the woman he once had met.

She had her hair wet, soft curls forming around her face. She was half-sitting on the hospital bed and she was staring at a fixed point on the wall above the door. Harry closed the door after coming in and left the bag on the chair by the bed.

“Hey...” he said approaching her. She didn’t even move or acknowledge his presence. “I brought you a change of clothes and a few personal items. I emailed your boss saying that you’re at the hospital and that we will keep him posted.”

He waited for a reply but didn’t receive one. He tried to caress her head but she dodged his hand. Just another pain to feel. He saw she didn’t touch breakfast and that it was laying on the table across from them.

“Do you want any help to eat?” Harry tried again, looking at her. She didn’t look or talk to him. He noticed that she was staring at a clock and one could cut the tension inside that room with a knife.

“Carol, please…. Talk to me. We need to communicate to be able to grieve properly.” Harry said, sitting on the bed. “I haven’t slept the other night and for what I heard, neither have you.”

Tic, toc. Tic, toc. Tic, toc.

Only the sound of the clock could be heard there.

“Carol? I know what you’re feeling, but please, let me know what I can do to help.”

“Nothing.” her voice was cracked and hoarse and only above a whisper. But that was progress.

“I know I can’t bring our child back...” he started.

“All I want is time to go back.” She replied, looking at the clock and Harry was starting to feel irritated by that damn thing.

“I’m sorry about what happened.” Harry said, trying to grab her hand but she fiercely snatched it out from his hold.

“Don’t touch me. Why is everyone touching me now? Why is everyone bothering me with empty words of sympathy and promises when no one knows what really happened and no one can fucking give me time.” She said and he struggled to hear her well and understand what she was saying.

Both Agnes and him had stayed just outside Carol’s door for more than an hour listening to her screams, almost entering the room again every now and then to try and calm her but deciding against it.

“At least you’re talking now.” Harry said, looking at her. She looked frail and broken. Just like he was.

“I told you to get out. Just leave me the fuck alone.” She finally looked at him and he saw so much pain and hatred in her gaze that his heart broke into a million pieces yet again.

“If that’s what you want.” he got up and opened the door. “I will be back tomorrow.” he said leaving the room.

“Don’t bother” she replied not sure if he heard her.

He did.

(…)

Once inside his car, he thought about going back home to try and sleep a bit but his heart wanted him elsewhere. He wanted to grieve with Carol. He wanted her support to go through this and he wanted to support her as well.

He knew that she had taken the heavier blow on this, as she was the one carrying the baby, but she should also know that he was hurt. He was scared of losing both of them. If she was up to it, they’d start trying to have another child as soon as possible. And he knew that any child he could have with her or anyone else would never replace the one they lost.

His life had gained so much more meaning and purpose when he knew he had to be a role model for someone. That he’d get to parent his child and make him or her the best version of him and Carol together.

He just kept driving and trying to calm his shattered heart. He didn’t know where he was going or how he was driving. He turned off his phone. He didn’t want to see anybody. He didn’t want to talk to anybody. He just wanted his child alive and well.

He was startled when he recognised the black iron gates of the property. He had driven for an hour and a half without noticing where he was headed but it somehow made sense. He knew who he needed the most at the moment and unfortunately, she also wasn’t around to embrace him and promise that everything would be OK.

The guards promptly opened the gates and greeted him. For the first time, he didn’t reply and simply kept driving until he reached the stables on the background of the imposing Estate. He killed the engine and got off his car and walked the long gravel path until he approached the lake.

It was a sunny day and he put his shades on. He walked and was taken by emotion when he was right in front of it. He opened the shed, took out the small boat and pushed it until it was on the water, getting in and rowing his way to the island in the middle of the oval lake. He got out of the boat and when on land, his knees almost gave away and with trembling lips and heavy tears he approached the centre of the island where he could see, engraved in marble, the words “Loving mother”.

“Mummy,” Harry said, kneeling before her grave. “I’ve failed mummy. I couldn’t protect the people that I love and now I’ve lost them.”

He cried. Each tear made his body tremble and his lips quiver. He out-poured all the emotions held inside feeling safe to do so in that place. Feeling safe that his heart had unconsciously brought him where his mum was eternally resting.

“How do I make this pain go again, Mummy?” he cleaned his face with his palm. “It hurts so fucking much. I’ve lost my child. Your grandchild. And I think I’ve lost my girl too.”

The peaceful scenery only made it worse to balance the turmoil inside Harry’s heart and mind.

“I need you here with me.” he whispered. “But you’ve also been taken away from me too soon. Why?”

He cried his tears and his sobs were cutting through his body and shaking it. He thought he would never be able to recover from this. Never. He was a different man and now he had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“I don’t think I can get through this.” Harry said, looking at Diana’s grave and embracing his bent knees.

He stayed there the whole afternoon. If his uncle and cousins knew that he was there, thankfully no one approached the oval island. He cried and opened his heart to his mother, knowing that she’d listen to him. Knowing that she’d be taking care of him.

When the sun began to set he knew it was time to come back.

“Mummy, could you please take care of my baby with you in heaven? I don’t know if its a boy or a girl but I don’t care. Please tell him or her that we love him so much it hurts and we wish things could’ve been different. I don’t know how his mother and I will survive this searing pain.”

Harry cleaned the tears again and spoke just above a whisper.

“We did our very best but unfortunately that wasn’t God’s wish for us. Please cuddle our child in your arms the way you did with me and Wills. Love on him as you did on us. Both of you are greatly missed. And I love you both with all my being. I know that my baby is now with his grandmother and nothing bad can happen if he’s under your watch. I love you, mummy. And I love you, baby.”

#phff #part II #chapter 1 #Whenyoutelltheworldyou'remine #princeharryff #princeharryfanfic #princeharryfanfiction #britishroyal #british royal family #brf #fanfiction

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f-117-nighthawk · 4 years ago

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I’m in a Playlist Mood

I was scrolling through my dark matter tag looking for something I made a while ago to reference in the next chapter of Carry Me Home and ran across my last playlist explanation post. It put me in the mood to think about this again, and I’ve added...a lot. The playlist might’ve actually doubled in length since then (Thank You Abyss) and I’ve moved some stuff around in order. So, more playlist meta under the cut (it’s LONG)

So first thing: I’ve actually created two new playlists (well, one new one and actually made the third playlist have more than two tracks) since that post jhadsfljd. Working forwards in time (kinda), we have:

Dark Matter: The Road to Ruin

The Road to Ruin is the Main Playlist, the thing I use to write to, the thing I lie in bed and listen to to think up new things, and half the thing that keeps the timeline in place (it’s actually more updated than World Anvil rn whoops). Here we have overarching plot hooks, character development, and the story of six Paladins and their friends trying to save the universe.

Turn the Lights Out I sort of explained in the last post and I can’t think of too much more to add. The TLDR is it’s about the Lions (and, well, technically [REDACTED] too....) and sort of why I refer to a fully-melded Lion-Paladin duo as Spirits.

(I was here/Will you welcome and recognize me/I'll be there/I was here/Will you dread me, will you despise me/I'll be there/For the last living thing)

Remnants of Stars is again about Galran philosophy and the actual process of the quintessence nurseries filtering quintessence back into the universe. But the bit about giving in to know the truth becomes important much, MUCH later.

(As children of space/With stardust in our veins/We will give in to know the truth/We are the remnants of stars)

Your World Will Fail, Dark Matter, and Eater of Worlds are about [REDACTED], about what happens between that instant between the first plank time and the next. They’re an overarching theme, but also the event that everything else builds from, whether that be interpreted as the beginning of the universe or the Voltron comet crashing into Daibazaal.

(Your world will fail my love/It’s far beyond repair/Your world will fail my love/It is already there)

(Bring me your soul/Bring me your hate/In my name you will create/Bring me your fear/Bring me your pain/You will destroy in my name)

(Can’t imagine the violence/The rage and the love in my madness/I am the eater of worlds and I’m looking for someone to feed me)

Apocalypse 1992 is actually the main story of Through Apocalypse Skies, although its framing story is shortly after String Theory. It happens between parts of Awakenings, detailing the rise of [REDACTED] and the final hours before the destruction of everything sentient species knew beforehand.

(Fly high through apocalypse skies/Fight for the world we must save/Like tears of a unicorn lost in the rain/Chaos will triumph this day)

You Keep What You Kill covers the slow degeneration of the Empire between The Fall and the Battle of Arus. The knowledge harshly taught by the Thuanial War is forgotten under the influence of Zarkon, Haggar, and [REDACTED]. Marzin and Galraasa quickly rise the ranks as the Empire’s left and right hands, like omens of destruction before them. The four are the ‘holy half-dead,’ the ones who shape the devouring of the universe before them.

(Defying dimensions/These ruthless creatures will steal your soul/Breaking away from the chains of mortality/They won't be taken down/Bow now to the holy half dead/The master to death mongers calls)

The Seven Sisters is about Keith, mostly, and connected to Closure via its influence on Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) and also to Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met

(I cast my hope upon The Pleiades/The Seven Sisters who would come for me/They'd fall to Earth to grant a child's dream/But I'm still waiting)

Starlight is the newly added Adashi song. Here, it’s the sad part, based around the time that the SFSS Genesis launches for Kerberos. It also is sort of about Shiro’s thoughts throughout the war as he watches ‘from distant skies’ (and influences String Theory kinda)

(At night the earth will rise/And I'll think of you each time I watch from distant skies/Whenever stars go down and galaxies ignite/I'll think of you each time they wash me in their light/And I'll fall in love with you again)

Abyss is Awakenings again. It’s specifically the Red Lion waking up on Sendak’s ship to her new Paladin, but also sort of the rest of the Lions as they find new Paladins for the first time since The Fall

(Open my eyes in a daze/How long has it been? Am I so out of place?/Warmth I can no longer feel/My mountain is gone, I'm surrounded by steel/The strangest of structures arises ahead/Seems to be held up by nothing/Where have I gone, do I dream?/How can the stars be all I can see?)

Who Will Save You Now is about the Paladins in First Contact. It’s the video messages they send to their families, the warning that Something Is Out Here that they need to prepare for. It’s a declaration of protection for Earth, but a recognition that the Paladins may not be able to do what they say.

(I will not take from you and you will not owe/I will protect you from the fire below/It's not in my mind/It's here at my side/Go tell the world that I'm still alive)

The End of the Beginning and Nobody Gets Left Behind are the aftermath of the Battle of the Sarnan Nebula, the end of season two. The End of the Beginning hasn’t been posted yet, but it’s also the second of the four Closure fics. The End of the Beginning also has influence on String Theory.

(Every night I die just a little/All this time, I'm caught in the middle/All your life, you fought with no winning/This is just the end of the beginning)

(Don't even try to pretend/That you're rough and just as tough/As when you're missing a friend/Attack and take him back/Cause when the team isn't whole/You've got a hole in your soul)

A Simple Plan is sort of part of The End of the Beginning, but really takes place after it. It’s the newly shuffled Team Voltron attempting to track down Lotor as Haggar tries to keep him under her control, and the new Black Paladin’s slow shift away from the things that he was pushed into and to the Blade. (And... guess what... it has influence on String Theory!) Fun fact I found out recently: The Spiritual Machines are by and large also the people behind Les Friction, which explains so much.

(What is this space we’re climbing/What is this place we’re stuck in/Why do we feel we’re sinking/How do we get out – get out of this)

Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met skips all the way over Naxzela and to the Mission to the Baaria Shipyards, the first major offensive that isn’t somehow connected to canon (even if only a very very small part of it is actually at the shipyards lol). This is also the song that solidified Keith’s very queer identity in Dark Matter.

(In this lonely place, bathed in silence and thoughts of you/I can't see your face but I'm trying to envision you/So are you really out there? Are you awake with memories/Of a boy you haven't met yet who's wished upon the Pleiades?)

TRIALS (reimagine) and String Theory are.... hoh boy. [REDACTED], [spoilers], and the turning point for a lot of things, which is why it has the honor of being the separating fic between my two main Dark Matter folders. TRIALS being on here is a fun story, because I associate that song very heavily with my main Star Wars fics, since that’s where the series title comes from, but the reimagine version of it gave me such strong Dark Matter vibes, it ended up here. It has heavy influence on the first part of String Theory, and is what I’ve been using for general pacing of the first half. String Theory itself isn’t the weirdest song on the playlist, but it’s really hard to find the connections to it without several layers of abstraction and backstory on [REDACTED]. String Theory is also weaved into a good chunk of fics before it.

(The ending won't be forgotten/It's written in the stars and the hieroglyphs/Sending the lionhearted/The stones break bones, but we're venomous)

(You don't believe in space/You don't believe in light/You don't believe that anything is well beyond your might/We walk across the sky and beneath the ocean floor/We're never going anywhere we've never been before)

House on Fire is the aftermath of String Theory, and a large vibe of We ARE Struggling Together! (Rise Against says it’s about parenting???? lol fuck that) (okay but actually, switch the parental love part to sibling love/general familial love and that’s a pretty good description....)

(So I'll just hold you like a hand grenade/You touch me like a razor blade/I wish there was some other way right now/Like a house on fire we're up in flames/I'd burn here if that's what it takes/To let you know I won't let go of you)

Belgrade is the klance song! It is a) bop b) always stuck in my head because it is That Good. The line in the chorus about ‘sweet songs of seduction’ is eternally funny to be bc a)they’re both ace and b)QPR’s don’t usually involve seduction as far as I know. Belgrade also leads almost directly into...

(We pretend in the darkness/We pretend the night won’t steal our youth/Singing me the sweet songs of seduction/Let me be the fool, fool, fool/Who will live and die for you)

Here to Save You is about Sam. Mostly. It’s also about Pidge. And Zaivorge cannons.

(A slave for humankind/I made sure I would survive/To stay alive/Now it's time to move on/When there's nothing left to prove/I'm coming to get you)

Iron is what eventually replaced Ten Thousand Against One. The plot has actually changed a lot since it was that song like. two years ago (three?) at this point. It has more of a focus on Keith knowing what’s going on due to [spoilers] and coming to accept parts of himself that are suddenly very obvious (kiiiinda the third closure fic?)

(You can't live without the fire/It's the heat that makes you strong/'Cause you're born to live/And fight it all the way/You can't hide what lies inside you/It's the only thing you know/You're embracing that, never walk away)

Birthright and Firewall are not exactly a direct result of Iron, but they wouldn’t happen how they do without it. They’re actually largely about Lotor, but then [REDACTED] swings back into the fray and things learned in String Theory/the framing story for Through Apocalypse Skies hit in full force.

(The voices in my head have all begun to sing/(The voices in your head have all begun to sing)/And they sure as hell hope I am listening/(I sure as hell hope you are listening!))

(They come to your dreams with illusion/They come to bring shape to your mind/You know how to stop the intrusion/We all have to fight for our lives)

and then, The Day the Earth Collapsed

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Here Comes the Reign doesn’t come into full effect until several months after Birthright/Firewall after Galraasa meets their fate, but starts with The Day the Earth Collapsed. It’s largely about Haggar and [REDACTED]

(You made something they can't take away/Now bring the fire of the burning sun on everyone)

Closure is placed where the fourth of its fics is. Closure in general is a lot of Keith’s character development and some of the struggles he goes through to accept his place in the universe and the fact that yes, he does have people that care about him. The last fic is me shining a brighter light on Closure’s chorus and taking a ‘last goodbye’ as never needing to say it again

(I am the child from the stars/That got lost in the dark/Between heaven and hell/I am forced to live on/I am the cause when you sin/I am the demon you skin/But there is no more tears to beautify/This is my last goodbye)

Ember and Soulbound are two closely related missions involving both Voltron and the Blade (specifically the Dark Whispers) in which [REDACTED] comes in with a vengeance, and some revelations about certain people’s fates are had. Soulbound is actually sort of from Krolia’s perspective.

(Dark matter falling from the sky/Dancing flames reflecting in your eyes as you watch them burn/Watching all your riches witches burn)

(Soulbound, endlessly forever/Locked between the darkness and the light/Don't drown in the swarming, blackened rising/Hold on to humanity and fight)

Darker Matter and Other Worlds Than These are. Well. [REDACTED] and [spoilers] and String Theory’s revelations rearing their ugly head once again, but this time with extra context and just a little bit of [spoiler]

(Dream yourself away/The pull of you shredding time and space)

(There are monsters in the sky/There are demons in the sea/I have seen them with my eyes/I've seen what you won't see/Pull the wool out from your eyes/It won't shade your frail belief/In the end we cannot hide/There are other worlds than these)

Godhunter is a fun one. The combined effects of String Theory, Soulbound, and Darker Matter/Other Worlds Than These come to a head and Team Voltron goes, well, hunting.

(She's been watching for a century/With hatred, and with scorn/If you know the hunter's coming/Then you hide or keep on running/'Cause she's slain the gods before)

My Darkest Hour is revenge for Godhunter, as well as a distraction from it, although Godhunter continues all the way to Louder than Words.

(When the sun comes crashing down/When the world is spinning round and round/I will face what must be my darkest hour)

Faster Than Light is almost direct aftermath of My Darkest Hour, and sort of the inverse of Godhunter, where now Team Voltron are the hunted, even as they attempt to continue hunting. Oh and, Marzin and [REDACTED] are big parts

(Once more we're flying fast as light/Dark matter passing in the night/Pursued by a force we can't outrun/As we hurtle towards a dying sun/We maneuver through the remnants of a moon/On the solar winds of supernovas/There is not a place to hide, the Matriarch is close behind/It's plain to see she's coming for us all)

The Reckoning, This is a Call, World on Fire, The Wind that Shapes the Land, and Louder Than Words are the finale, what everything has been building towards. Earth’s faction, Haggar, [REDACTED], Voltron, the Empire, and the Coalition, all clash together in a final desperate bid to finish or prevent the final result of Your World Will Fail/Dark Matter/Eater of Worlds.

(I see your face, find peace of mind/Between the madness and the sadness and the fire burning/The end of war, the great divine/We'll see the day of reckoning)

(This is a call to action/This is a call to arms/All lives for one, together/There are no false alarms)

(World on fire with a smoking sun/Stops everything and everyone/Brace yourself for all will pay/Help is on the way)

(Search within/Uncover the will to win/Turn against the tide that washes o'er/Find the strength to fall and rise again/Open up the gates, unleash the force/I am the wind that shapes the land/Old as time and twice as strong/Oceans arise at my command/I alone can carry on)

(We have the force to fight/We have the blinding light/A war is more than heard/Coming in louder than words)

Dystopian Fiction

Dystopian Fiction is focused on what happens on Earth during the main playlist. I split it out because putting stuff like Cross the Line on the main playlist was getting clunky, and I figure Adam and Veronica (and the rest of the Paladins’ families, but mostly those two) deserve a chance for their story to shine on its own.

Dark Matter is on here because title track, but also it does end up with effects.

(Don't stop, don't think/Move up, don't blink now/On your knees pray for rain/Don't breathe when you take your aim)

Codebreaker is Adam’s song! I have him primarily as a cryptologist for the Garrison, teaching on the side and as a reserve pilot. Aviators says Codebreaker is actually about Cyperpunk 2077 but uhhh Fuck That it’s about Adam being The Best and dealing with...

(Codebreaker can't you find/Can you read between the lines of code?/Tell me all that you know/How far down the hole does it all go)

Cross the Line is the Éskhayklos’ image song. They’re a neo-luddite movement turned terrorist group that are upset with the way the Sol Federation is trying to fix Earth, stating that humans are the one that pushed it into this state, they should leave it to die and die along with it. Akane Shirogane was their worst nightmare. Cross the Line fits because, well, they crossed the line when [spoiler beep] and they were happy about it. (And “human cause” comes into play later when they pick up anti-alien leanings)

(Cross the line, redefine, break away unbent, unafraid/Together we stand in the dark/Seeking the light and what is right, together we cross the line/Our journey will come to an end and then our human cause will be/Justified)

Who Will Save You Now here is about Sam, and the aftermath of Here to Save You, in addition to its referenced role in the main playlist

(Alone with this vision/Alone and blind/Go tell the world I'm still alive)

The Day the Earth Collapsed is exactly what it says on the tin.

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Dystopian Fiction is the title track for this part. With the events of The Day the Earth Collapsed, the Garrison and our heroes on Earth are at their lowest point. It really is a piece of dystopian fiction, between [spoiler] and [spoiler]. And also: “Nobody can shoot me down, not just yet” is about Adam bc Fuck Canon

(I'm a dead man/In the wasteland/I'm a soldier fighting for superstition/Under search lights/In the long nights/We've been written like dystopian fiction)

The Reckoning is the only one of its little subset that made it over here, because it’s the only one that references events from before its eponymous fic (both verses are Very Earth)

(We're all alone, walking in twilight/The night has been long and so many have fallen/Feel no remorse, light will be breaking/Our freedom is worth it all)

Filaments

Filaments is the least complete, mostly because it’s the ‘sequel series’ of sorts. I have ideas for it, but I still haven’t posted most of the major story beats from the main portion of Dark Matter, so I’ve been purposefully putting it on the backburner. I do have enough to write Carry Me Home and put some foreshadowing in other fics.

Dark Matter is here because, well. A) Title track, B) yes, it still has effects. It’s the overarching theme, after all. Filaments sort of has a subtitle itself, which is ‘The Undoing,’ after the other part of the lyric that the subtitle of the main playlist comes from. It’s about undoing a past mistake (that wasn’t obviously a mistake until much later) and reconciling the events of Your World Will Fail.

(I am the keeper/I am the secret/I am the answer/I am the end)

Filaments is the title track of this part. It’s... a little hard to explain why without giving away the entire plot (what little I have planned lol) but it’s about the connections between different parts of the universe, and some fall-out of Darker Matter/Other Worlds Than These.

(These glowing filaments/Conducting this enchanting/Sarcophagus that's holding us)

Starlight is, again, Adashi song, and this time the happy part

(Don't leave me lost here forever/I need your starlight and pull me through/Bring me back to you)

Carry Me Home is what I’m in the process of writing right now, and it’s about the aftermath of the Quintessence War, specifically about how Shiro decides to settle down on Earth and what he does to build himself a home.

(Carry me home to the morning light/carry me home before you wave me goodbye/Oh, carry me home...)

#i am dark matter; your road to ruin #wow it's 2am #i spent like three hours on this #playlist #enjoy the spotify links #i really did not realize just how much I've added to the playlist this year #it's abyss's fault #i just. really love the playlist #it is my masterpiece #my brother makes fun of me for this but like #you DON'T make super complicated playlists for stories??#i reiterate i really really love this thing #anyway i should. sleep #i mean the semester is over i cn stay up till two but that doesn't mean it's wise #can't wait for me to finally post everything so i can gush about the playlist without smatterings of [REDACTED] tags when it shows up #DM Playlists

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mandatoryhappiness · 4 years ago

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An Interview with Laura Jane Grace

Photo by Alexa Viscius, interview from Polyvinyl.com

Laura Jane Grace wasn’t planning on making a solo record this year. In fact, she was planning on making a record with Against Me!, the band she’s fronted for the past 23 years. But clearly, nothing went according to plan this year. “We came home from the Against Me! tour we were on in March, and right before we left, we had been in the studio working on songs, and I had been working on them for months prior,” says Grace. As she sat at home, all of her tours canceled, and the members of Against Me!—as well as her other band Laura Jane Grace & The Devouring Mothers—spread across the country, she was left with a batch of songs and no band to record them with.

“I sat around for a month-and-a-half at a home just being shellshocked being like, ‘What the fuck happened and what the fuck is happening with the world?’ As I started to get my bearings, I just came to the realization that waiting was going to kill the record and kill the songs. I spent two years working on all these songs, and the idea of throwing them away didn’t sit well with me,” says Grace. “But then I was like, ‘What am I waiting for?’ All I have to do is adjust my scope. I can sit here on my fucking ass and do nothing, or I can work.”

So, Grace got to work. She picked up the phone and called Electrical Audio, the iconic studio in her adopted hometown of Chicago, Illinois, to ask if she could make a record with famed engineer Steve Albini. The goal was to go in and document these songs exactly as she’d been playing them in her home, straight to analog tape. When she hung up the phone, she had four days booked.

The result of the session at Electrical Audio is Stay Alive, a record that doesn’t just embody that title, it serves as the guiding principle behind its creations. But it also put life back into an industry that’s been ravaged by venue closures, cancelled tours, and delayed records. “By putting the songs out, that puts the label in work, that puts a photographer in work, that puts a graphic designer in work, that puts a merch company in work, that keeps it alive,” says Grace. “You hear on the news every day about people losing their jobs and everything collapsing, and I want to fight against that. The only way I can think to fight against that is to work.”

Across the 14 songs that comprise Stay Alive, Grace takes all her pent-up fears, anger, and anxiety and releases it, like an olive branch to the weary listeners who are feeling those exact same ways. As she says in “Blood & Thunder,” a love song to Chicago—or perhaps a mea culpa for “I Hate Chicago” on The Devouring Mothers album Bought to Rot—the album’s thematic premise is all but spelled out: “When you give in and quit / There’s a power to be found in it.” It’s an idea that may sound odd on its face, but it displays Grace’s commitment to no longer resisting the changes in front of her. On a record that sees her traversing the globe—from Marbella, Spain to Glasgow, Scotland to London, England to the Land of Oz—”Blood & Thunder” is a begrudging embrace of what can’t be changed; Instead of resisting the city she once loathed, she finds the beauty in the little things, like the moon rising over Indian Boundary Park, or the wind rolling up Western Avenue.

The album’s title is one that surfaces in the record itself, and serves as a subtle rejoinder to her Polyvinyl labelmate Chris Farren, who gifted Grace a hat that said “Can’t Die,” and she’s spent the last two years running in it every single day. By flipping the phrase on its head, Grace built her own message; one based around work, struggle, and reaffirmed commitments. In certain cases, songs like “Hanging Tree,” which has a chorus that builds to the phrase, “A burning crucifix and a hanging tree,” have been kicking around since 2017, but finally found a moment that made sense for it on Stay Alive. And in the case of “Shelter In Place,” a song about her own isolation and introspection, the pandemic finally gave words to a feeling she’d long had but was never able to accurately describe.

The songs that make up Stay Alive are documents of a time and a songwriter who experienced enough to find levity in the simple act of doing the work. Recorded with nothing more than an acoustic guitar, an occasional drum machine, and her own powerful voice, Grace’s distinct songwriting signature is front and center. What’s more, she made it purely for herself. “I just want to put this out because it makes me feel alive and it’s giving me something better than sitting here losing my mind while the world falls apart,” says Grace. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about what you do. Just stay alive.”

#ljg #laura jane grace #against me!#against me #am!#ljgatdm #laura jane grace and the devouring mothers #stay alive #polyvinyl

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lowkeyassgard · 5 years ago

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DAY 9 OF LOKI VS. EARTH: TINDER

Day 9 of the Loki vs Earth series and today Loki is pissed and disturbed by Tinder.

One shot summary: Loki wants to find someone that will be his mischievous and pleasurable partner on Midgard but is disturbed by the people he finds on Tinder

Quarantine Series Summary: Hi. I started something called the quarantine series. It’s going to be a series of fun and light hearted one shots to help readers and other writers get through this hard time. I made a a03 collection and a tumblr tag. To join just write a fun, soft, and/or light hearted one shot and post it to the collection @Quarantine_Series or tag it on tumblr as #quarantine series.

Word count: 2.5 K

Warning: mentions of sex and dicks

Since moving to Midgard, Loki had been saying how much he despised Midgardians. They had no sense of self pleasure or dignity. They had horrible taste in fashion and listened to music that made Loki’s ears want to bleed. They complained too much and never did anything with their lives. They slaved away to the system. It was just repulsing to Loki.

Although he loathed the humans he was starting to desire their company. It had been months and the only people he had to talk to were his brother and Valkyrie. The other Asgardians were still wary of him: as they should be. Loki might have been mind controlled, but it really hadn’t been that long since he tried to kill everyone in New York City. The Asgardians wanted to believe he had changed but there will always be a sense of fear toward him.

He didn’t want friends. Jotun no. The last thing Loki wanted was a mewling quim to get emotionally attached to him. Friends were clingy. Loki wanted someone that he could share mutual hatreds with that would lead to many hours of pleasure. He wanted what those Midgardians called a fuck buddy.

Loki didn’t have a preference. Didn’t care if they were male, female, neither, or in between. Didn’t care what they looked like or what they identified as. He just needed a warm body that would let him use it as he pleases and share in his mischievous ways.

But back to the fact that he hated Midgardians. He absolutely hated the Midgardians and did everything in his power to annoy and complicate their lives.

Had Loki told anyone that he was looking for a sexual mutually hating partner in crime? Absolutely not.

They were would think him a fool. The god of mischief scheming around with the people he hated. Fraternizing with the enemy. Conversing with the low lives. Seducing the quim of all quim. Well now that Loki thought about it: that’s 100% something he would do. Flipping sides and manipulating a situation for his own self gain was right up his alley.

Loki didn’t leave New Asgard much other than to attend to the duties asked of him but today he would venture out to find the seductive ways of the Midgardians. He would learn their ways and then use them against them to find him one that would submit to him in all ways.

This scheming plan that would be sure to blow up in smokes is what lead Loki to be sitting in a dimly lit café shop talking to a pretty blonde named Marlo.

“So, you say you aren’t from around here?” Marlo said taking another sip of their caramel macchiato

“Oh, definitely not from around here. You could say I’m out of this world. “Loki winked.

“What exactly brings you here? To Norway? You could go to any place and you choose Norway?”

“Well, I didn’t get much choice. You see? I kind of helped blow up my home and then had to fight this toxic bitch from outer space and then I stole this blue cube and traveled back in time to not be choked out. Don’t get me wrong I love choking but this was choking gone wrong. Did I mention I faked my own death to do all of this? Anyways I helped save the world and now I half willingly half begrudgingly live with my older better brother and this former alcoholic that rules over this place about 20 minutes away. Lived there for a few months but now I am looking for a partner to get into some reckless fun with.”

Marlo stared back at Loki with the eyes the size of saucers. He took one last sip of his coffee and began to stand up.

“Let me ask you. Do you tell everyone that story?”

“Actually, you’re the first person I’ve ever told. Huh what a little caffeine and espresso does for the mind. I just opened up like a can of sardines.”

“Nice tragic story bro, but from the sounds of it you’re a little bat shit crazy and that’s not my vibe.”

Marlo began to walk out but Loki grabbed him by the wrist. “As a god I feel ashamed to be even in this room but young mewling quim I need your assistance.”

“What did you just call me?” Marlo looked extremely appalled.

“Oh Jotun. Sorry just a pet name I have for Midgardians... I mean humans. “

“Oh okay. I don’t know what you want but never call someone that ever again.’

“Gotchu. Will you machinate with me?

“Will I what?”

“Will you machinate with me... scheme... conspire... plot the plot of all plots.”

“What exactly is it you are wanting?”

“Easy. I want someone to have sex with. To talk about the things, I hate. To discuss all the ways, I want to overthrow Earth and make it better. To pleasure and be pleasured. I want a thot. “

“OOOOH I understand now. You little lonely in that imaginary world of yours and want someone to share in your agony.”

“Exactly my mew- morally obligated human.”

“Try tinder.”

“Timber? “

“No, tinder.”

“Sitter?’

“No. Tinder. Here just look. “Marlo got out their phone and opened up this app. “Tinder. You make a profile and it will show you people in the area that you can match with. If you both match up then you talk, meet up, canoodle, do whatever the hell that dark tragic heart of yours desires. “

“You must help me make a tinder. The fate of the world depends on it.” Loki grabbed Marlo’s phone out of their hands to expect this site. It was just full of people wanting the same thing he wanted.

“God you are dramatic. The world isn’t going to be fall apart just because you are lonely and horny.” Marlo took their phone and began to swipe through to show Loki the setup of the app.

“I once burned down a building cause I was bored. You don’t know what I’m capable of.” Loki glared at them. How dare they question their actions. When Loki said something, he meant it. No dramatics. If he didn’t talk to someone outside of the people residing in New Asgard and soon who knows what he would do. Arson was definitely in his future.

“Okay don’t get your leather in a bunch. I’ll set you up an account. “

So there Loki sat with Marlo for the next hour setting up a tinder account.

“First up. What is your name?’ Marlo asked. “Didn’t you say it was Lewis?

“LEWIS. I AM LOKI ODINSON PRINCE OF ASGARD RIGHTFUL...” Loki was about to rage scream his official title for this whole café to hear but he was rudely interrupted.

“I am going to stop you there buddy. I am putting Loki. How do you spell that? Le

“LO! L O K I!”

“Damn alright. Anyways. What is your birthday?”

“My birthday? How am I supposed to know that?

“Didn’t your mom and dad ever celebrate it like literally every year that you have been alive?”

“My dad kidnapped me from my home and my mother and him kept him in their string of lies until one day I was finally told the truth. I was born a long long time ago. Thousands of years before your life was even thought about.”

“Okay so I’m going to make a date up. Let’s just say you are 23.”

“Moving on. What is your gender?”

“I am above and unbound by your mortal limitations of identity.”

“Okay so gender nonconforming.” Marlo finished selecting that option. “You know to get yourself a partner you might want to try not being so hostile and dramatic every time someone speaks to you. I don’t just a tip.”

Loki stood up from his chair with his knife withdrawn. “I am not hostile. I am just bothered by your mewling questions in my search for mutual pleasure. “

“It was just a tip. You do you. So, what is your sexual orientation? You know what are you into?”

“I like anyone and everyone that meets the eye. I do have a preference for men that need my expertise and women that need my saving. Do with that as you wish.”

“Alright. Preferences so bisexual. Show everyone. Almost done there Lewis.”

“Loki.”

“Right. Loki.”

“What do you want your bio to be? Something that says who you are to attract people’s attention.”

“God of more then just mischief. I carry big things in these pants.”

“Err. Are you sure?”

“Who are you? The god of questioning? Do as I say.”

Marlo said nothing for a few minutes.

“Location is turned on. Questions all answered. Now we just need some pictures.”

“I have no photos.”

“That is alright. We are going to take some. Just pose.”

Loki just sat there and stared at the camera while Marlo snapped a photo.

“Look less pissed off.”

Loki groaned and forced a smile.

“Now you just look constipated.”

Loki huffed. He did his very best smirk.

“You look like you are about to burn down an orphanage.”

“I am about to burn this place down if you don’t hurry up.”

“Okay maybe just do a close half smile half smirk. Tilt your head a little and look less like a pissed off greasy sewer rat.”

Loki did his best to do as described. It must have been good enough because Marlo did not suggest another pose. They just tapped away on their phone.

“Okay. Done. Just swipe through. Swipe left for those that don’t interest you and swipe right for those that do interest you.”

Loki did that for over an hour. Swiped left on the ugly mewling quim or the nerdy sulks. Swiped right on anyone that seemed like they could offer him some machinating.

Loki ran into a slight problem. For all the hassle it took to setup this tinder account it wasn’t very awarding. No one would swipe right on him. He had yet to get a match. He looked good in his photos. Greasy and permissive. Looked like he was ready for a good time.

When Loki finally got matches and would try to talk with the humans they were strange. The strangest one yet was when he matched with this very attractive slim brunette that lived closed by. Upon the match the women sent him a message that left Loki happy.

“I heard you carry big things in those pants. Care to let me see?”

Loki smiled upon reading. Finally, someone that wanted to get to know him. He removed his knives and placed them on the table and sent the woman a photo of them.

“Mhm. Kinky. What else you got hiding in all that leather?”

Damn. This woman wanted to know all his dirty secrets and treasures. Loki didn’t show many people, but he had his own little pocket dimension where he hid all of his prized possessions. He had no plans to show a complete stranger the tesseract but since they seem so interested what would be the harm.

He slipped the tesseract into his lap and snapped a quick photo before putting it back in the one place it was safe. He was excited to see her response, but it was not one of awe of the mystical space orb that Loki carried the powers and burden of.

“Mhm, what is that big box holding?

Loki replied with. “More than your human mind could handle.” Loki genuinely felt like this woman was someone that could end up being a partner. She took great interest in him. She was funny and pretty. Talkative and apparently had amble of free time since she was talking to him. Loki thought that until he clicked back on the messages to see that she had blocked him after sending “The only big thing in your pants is the big lack of understanding of when a woman wants to see your cock. Loser.

Loki was in utter disbelief, but it only got worse from there. Person after person would converse with him for a few minutes and them block him out of complete frustration. Loki was just trying to make conversation and there was nothing more important to him than his knives, hair comb, and the tesseract. HE meant that he literally had big things in his pockets. The tesseract ain’t small and neither is his knives. Loki wanted sex, but he wasn’t going to whip his dick out for these people especially when they played with his feelings like this. They acted interested in his knives just to see his dick. How rude.

Loki was growing rather fed up with this app. Loki finally decided to give up on his scheme for mischievous pleasure when he clicked upon a message that left him sick to his stomach.

“You aren’t the only one with big things.” And there was a naked hairy nasty white cock on the screen of Marlo’s phone. Loki almost threw up. Don’t get him wrong he loved men but not men who flaunted their nasty private areas. This man looked like he hadn’t washed in decades and that’s coming from the man who literally showers with crow vomit. This man was repulsive, and he could take him and his arguably big dick far away from Loki before Loki used his big thing in his pants to cut it off.

The whole time this was happening Marlo sat beside Loki laughing to themselves.

“Do you think my failure is funny?”

“Yes. I don’t know what’s more hilarious you sulky when no one matches with your or you being repulsed by the only people that will.”

“This is not as easy as I imagined it would be.”

“Welcome to the real world. It’s a whole bunch of nasty dicks to the face. In this case I should say screen.”

Loki groaned and leaned back against his chair. Today was a complete disaster. He had not managed to find him a partner or even a supply of people wanting to be his partner that weren’t creepy, repulsive, or downright weird. Loki did a lot of weird things and wasn’t the best at being normal, but these people were worse than Loki could ever be. Loki chugged the rest of his coffee while Marlo continued to laugh,

“Tinder might not have worked but I must admit Lewis. I have grown fond of your pent-up anger and greasy dramatics. I would be cool to hang out again.”

“It is Loki.”

“I know, but I love seeing you get all fed up when I call you Lewis. Just make sure you bring your knives next time, so we can compare.”

“Oh, I see, you think you got big things in your pants. We will just have to see.”

#quarantine series #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston smut #marvel #marvel smut #loki #loki smut #smut #loki one shot #loki fic #marvel fic #loki of asgard #loki of earth

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asbcblog · 4 years ago

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TOP SONGS OF 2020 WRITE UP!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6WDeuRMOV8neAhU2zd193d?si=lZ9gDIp0TsCCEOeCS7_QGw

1. I remember everything - John Prine

I was going to write an incredibly earnest and long review of this song that outlined just how much John Prine meant to me. I can’t really do it and I think this song probably says enough alone. With only a few chords he always manages to express all the little things that make love what it is, all different kinds of love. Long lasting, short moments, love with places, sounds, going places and staying home, endless family ties, and the often fragile but in the end tenable love between all human beings in the face of catastrophe. The pandemic stole a lot of things from a lot of people this year, including John Prine, but he will remain one of the greatest songwriters of all time and his songs will live on forever.

2. Dream Palette - Yves Tumor

I can’t drive but let’s pretend I’m driving, I’m in LA and it’s night time or something, my elbow’s out the window, don’t know why I’m wearing sunglasses, this song comes on the radio, I’m the coolest person alive.

3. Boylife in EU- Yung Lean

Not to repeat my review of Garden but when the chorus comes I feel like I’m on top of a really big hill and its pouring it down with rain and im screaming but this time its because of a no-deal Brexit.

4. Garden- Joseph Futak

My review was already used as part of Joe’s promo campaign and it said: “feel like im on top of a really big hill and its pouring it down with rain and I’m screaming when the drums come in x x”

5. Circle the Drain- Soccer Mommy

I like this song because I too, am often alone in my room, and I have also become obsessed with subtle breakbeats to an extent where people around me have become very bored of the subject.

6. The Brothers William Said- The Innocence Mission

I listened to this song over and over when I was travelling round London in January just after my birthday, it felt like I’d been listening to it for years, like it was in a movie I’d forgotten. It felt at the time like I was saying a lot of goodbyes, recognising that things weren’t really like they used to be.

7. On the Floor- Perfume Genius

Say it with me ladies: I CROSS OUT HIS NAME ON THE PAGE!!!!

8. Shameika- Fiona Apple

She may not believe it but I bet Fiona Apple looked tough with a riding crop.

9. Song for Our Daughter- Laura Marling

Everything about this is fantastic, mellow and bright at the same time. Every part is brought forward individually and no part of this song gets left behind. A stunning vocal from Laura Marling and purposeful lyrics set to a cinematically emotive instrumental. Pure magic as always.

10. Building site outside- Piglet

Not going to lie, I was in a very vulnerable emotional state when I listened to this song for the first time, but I think that makes it no less powerful and just, sad. The lyric ‘she smiled at me so much last time’ is just so simple and devastating that you forget this would’ve been on every indie film soundtrack from 2000-2008 if Piglet was an industry plant.

11. I wonder- Shamir

One word: EPIC

12. Crimson Tide- Destroyer

Listened to this every time I came on my period this year.

13. In the Dining Room - Joe Pera talks with you

Adam showed me Joe Pera when I really felt incredibly sad at the very beginning of this year. It’s a show that’s made me feel good, no matter the circumstances. This moment in the show made me smile, and I love hearing Gene come in a bit too early.

14. Stupid Love- Lady Gaga

Shakin my little booty in the kitchen to this x

15. Might bang, might not- Little Simz

Livid we didn’t all get to go to End of the Road and see all the hot dad’s loving Little Simz.

16. Fire- Waxahatchee

A truly insane vocal. I listened to this song on my way to work almost every day from September to December and fantasised singing back up at some kind of outdoor gig in the summer and it made everything significantly less bleak.

17. Hannah Sun- Lomelda

This song is too nice and genuine for me to say anything other than, “really lovely song :)”.

18. Scroll of Sorrow- Machine Girl, guayaba

Listened to this a lot this year while sitting on my kitchen floor staring into an empty oven, wondering if I was ever going to go to a party again.

19. Build a nest- Jeff and Ruby Parker

Have put this on in the flat because the guitar solo reminds me of everything my dad listens to at home. A really great piece of music that kicks off a really exciting album.

20. Kiss me thru the phone- That Kid

Ned said yesterday that he thought it was funny how much the original of this song is so foundational to hyper pop and I agree. Also I’ve started saying ‘Bitch’ like That Kid does every time I stub my toe.

21. Cuckoo- Sam Amidon

I am punting down a creek, looking in the branches that hang over the water for the bird that shall lead me to my next clue.

22. Places/ Plans- Skullcrusher

Used this song to comfort myself in moments where I also just don’t understand why I’m not famous.

23. Sweetjoy- Jam City

Finally….. HAIM for dudes.

24. Clean Living- Slow Weather

I saw someone listening to this on the side of my Spotify so I decided to give it a go and it was a fantastic decision. It’s mental that half of this song is an outro.

25. Summer All Over- Blake Mills

Along with the music video visuals and the dampened piano tone, this wins the competition for least summer-y song with the actual word summer in the title.

26. Ready Cheeky Pretty- CHAI

All of my joy this year has been brought to me by CHAI. I have nothing negative to say about CHAI. If you have anything negative to say about CHAI you’re gonna have to go through me.

27. Diaphanous- Land of Talk

This band was recommended to me by a guy I was trying to flirt with at rough trade east but everything closed before I could impress him by saying ‘I think they’re really cool’.

28. Anything - Adrianne Lenker

Anyone who has ever attempted to write a song with me knows how much I simply love rhyming. Seriously though, every thing rhymes, brilliant stuff. (It’s also such a brilliantly full and constant song that still manages to move and remain exciting from start to finish. I imagine this is partially due to Adrianne Lenker’s almost nursery rhyme- esque structure and also due to her beautifully colloquial approach to family dynamics.)

29. Blow- Dj Gigola, Kev Koko

This song makes me wish I was Jason Bourne- just wanna jump really far while something explodes behind me.

30. Money Can’t Buy- Yaeji, Nappy Nina

‘Well I’ll buy some Yaeji tickets, they’re for NOVEMBER, there’s NO WAY they’re gonna get cancelled’.

31. Only the Truth- Johanna Warren

When I first listened to this song I felt like I was floating in the ocean looking up at the stars as the drums came in on ‘what more can I do’. An incredibly beautiful and careful song.

32. Gasoline- Haim

2020 could probably be summarised with the phrase ‘WHY AM I NO LONGER IN CALIFORNIA? WHY DID I LEAVE CALIFORNIA?’ And this song is the 3 minutes 13 seconds seconds of escapism I needed to not topple into a full spiral.

33. Mapuu - Ic3peak

No one can convince me that Ic3peak are real people. They are a collective made up of child ghosts.

34. Don’t Worry- Bladee

Whenever I have an anxiety attack in the night I wake up and see Bladee’s ghost of the future over my bed, he says ‘Don’t worry’ and mumbles for a bit as I fall back into a peaceful sleep.

35. The biggest tits in history- The magnetic fields

The most relatable magnetic fields song imo.

36. Sand Castle- nijuu

Yujin is a genius and my answer is yes, I do want to just walk for a while.

37. Curl Up- Darren Hayman

Ned reminded me how much I used to love Darren Hayman, and both of them have been a pretty big part of my year.

38. When Will Death Come- Sarah Mary Chadwick

‘Wow, mental voice’ - Ned, while doing the washing up.

39. Dear Dad - Sylvie Wiley

‘But I didn’t cry, you’d be proud’ Sylvie, I’m weeping forever.

40. 34+35- Ariana Grande

Hehehehehehehehehe

41. Garden Song- Phoebe Bridgers

Phoebe Bridgers is a pretty unparalleled lyricist and this song feels like a disconnected series of thoughts that somehow all make sense together and come to create something that doesn’t build, but all just kind of sits? What I’m trying to say is that I don’t really know what she’s talking about but like, I get it.

42. Ringtone (remix) - 100 gecs, Charli xcx, Kero Kero Bonito, Rico Nasty,

I love the way it sounds like everyone got just one take and had to improvise all the lyrics but it still bangs.

43. Changer- Andy Shauf

Thank you lord for another album about a smaller than average man overthinking all of his social interactions with lots of lovely clarinet parts.

44. What’s your pleasure - Jessie Ware

My pleasure jessie? Probably just sitting by the fire with a tough crossword and a glass of merlot x

45. Slime- Shygirl

Shygirl’s series of singles this year made me even more livid that I had to take out my eyebrow piercing for my new job this year.

46. Sears Tower- Salem

Perfect halloween release.

47. Title track- happyness

Ned turned to me and said: ‘so is their new thing that they sound like Elliot Smith’ and I said: ‘and that’s a bad thing?’

48. Cross-sound ferry (walk on ticket) - Hamilton Leithauser

Have found unbelievable joy in chopping veg and shouting GREEEEEEEN PORT, NEEEEEEWWWW YOOORK alone in my kitchen.

49. Lowswimmer- Hailaker

I’ve loved hearing Jemima’s voice when I haven’t got to see her much this year. I normally take the piss out of the Hambledon line but I haven’t seen that this year really either. I guess we find sentimentality in strange places.

50. XS - Rina Sawayama

This song made me feel very decadent on those days where I didn’t wash.

51. Emily- Clem Snide

Let’s be more kind and brave in the face of it all.

52. Building a fire- Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy

P.O.V you’re doing bushcraft in the garden with your husband Bonnie Prince Billy and he’s here to protect you.

53. Asexual Wellbeing- Okay Kaya

This song absolutely bangs but I am truly bewildered by the way they singled out the line ‘if they could put a pulse into a spinach leaf, can they turn the two of us into a tree?’ in the production as if that was a true piece of genius. As I say great tune tho.

54. Anthems- Charli xcx

The soundtrack to couch to 5k

55. Never Better- Kitty Fitz

A SE London queen bringing us huge pop tunes in 2020. So so excited to see what 2021 brings us from Kitty, she’s gonna be a real force!

56. Deep in Love- Bonny Light Horsemen

This is such a delightful song which (mainly due to the time I actually got around to listening to the whole record) for me really rang in the spring. A beautifully recorded testament to the feeling of love getting stronger meaning you have a lot more to lose.

57. Malibu- Kim Petras

My song of the summer, made me feel like I was at the beach when really I was in Lewisham.

58. Like I’m Winning it- Girlpool

I’m so delighted that the turn girlpool have made this year is towards dramatic goth music with breakbeats. Their voices both sound amazing and they look simply incredible.

59. Azad- Frazey Ford

I have no idea what she’s saying as always but I love it.

60. Helio- Charlotte Dos Santos

I’m literally so excited for what Charlotte Dos Santos is gonna put out next. The production is fantastic and her aesthetics are flawless.

61. Lost in the Country- Trace Mountains

‘I checked my email twice as I cried’. Safe to say we’ve all been there this year amirite girlies x

62. Unfold You- Rostam

I hated this at first, I thought, what’s this lo-fi beats to study to shit, but it’s now my classic ‘I’m just gonna pop to the shops, anyone want anything? x’ song. Huge.

63. Oh Yeah- A.G cook

One of 2020s realisations is that me and A.G Cook kind of look like we could be cousins.

64. Can’t cool me down- Car Seat Headrest

I would like to personally thank will Toledo for giving me a tune that got me off my ass when I was too warm to do exercise this summer.

65. Take back the radio- Katy J Paerson

In love with Katy J Pearson’s voice and the way this song builds. Just pretty flawless and feel good in my opinion. I think she’s such an exciting new artist who’s gonna be around for a very very long time.

66. Good Woman- The Staves

‘I’m a good woman’… speak for yourselves.

67. A Little Love- Jack Francis

Feel like I’ve been singing this song for about 5 years! It’s amazing and I’m so excited about what Jack’s going to bring out in 2021, he’s a genius and also the nicest man on the planet.

68. Lullaby No.4 - Snailbeach

This song makes me feel like I’m being hypnotised on a haunted carousel in a very relaxing way.

69. Boyfriend in every city- Roma Radz

Sucks that she can’t see any of her boyfriends cos of covid :(

70. Jaja ding dong- Will Ferrell

Get back in there and play Jaja Ding Dong !!!!

71. Highway- Jonatan leandoer96

Man, would be pretty sick to have 20 boys outside the club but alas the clubs are dead and I’ve only regularly texted about 4 people this year.

72. De nadie- Kali Uchis

Felt v sexy listening to this for the first time in a Morley’s in Honor Oak.

73. Weird Fishes- Lianne La Havas

This album was a pretty triumphant return for Lianna La Havas and me teenage self simply couldn’t be happier.

74. Micro Creature- Aya Gloomy

Love that despite everything about this song telling me otherwise, that the artwork for this single looks like Aya Gloomy is just chilling in the fields by my family home in Hampshire.

75. Si Ella Sale- Bad Bunny

Better get on the duolingo now if I’m gonna know what this guy’s saying at Porto next year.

76. Through my sails- Mountain Man

Truly gentle reimagining of an already incredibly beautiful song, mountain man make every word seem new!

77.Christmas Day (get me outta this funk) - Baggio and Blue 5 Years- Bath days

In joint 77th place are two banging Christmas songs that have soundtracked a pretty bleak Christmas period and have made me feel pretty joyous in their ways, despite one literally being called Blue Five Years.

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stachmousworld · 4 years ago

Text

Dear Dad, fuck you.

Pairing: Stuckony

Summary: My take on Civil War, but with less property damage and as much betrayal and drama.

TW: abuse both physical and verbal but not sexual (thank you Howard for your A+ parenting skills).

Ok, so you may cry and hate me at the end.

Also: This is the first installment of my universe A. The two others are:

Dear Dad, fuck you Punishments

27 MINUTES AND 32 SECONDS AFTER THE CIVIL WAR

Tony would have never guessed it would have ended like it did. Not in a million years would he have thought that his dead dad would be his demise. He was dead for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t beat Tony, nor verbally abuse him anymore. He wasn’t there physically, and yet he managed, from the grave, to shoot him in the soul. Literally. There were no other words to describe the way he felt.

He couldn’t breathe, his head felt loud and light at the same time, he couldn’t stand straight but sitting down made the earth spin faster, if that made any sense.

Eyes closed his thoughts spiraled out of the control and images. No. Memories of his dad stuck to his retina, giving Tony a full 3D experience, sound included. And eyes opened, reality dawned him: Steve and Bucky didn’t want him anymore.

You are a worthless piece of shit, that’s what you are.

I should have made your mom abort you.

I won’t pay for any ransom.

Why can’t you die?

Funny how when everything goes to shit, his dad is the first one he hears. Always. Tony was long used to his voice in his head, muttering death threats, insults, or influencing his suicidal thoughts.

Tony finally decided to sit on the couch.

“JARVIS, lights out”.

He flinched at the sudden darkness. His left eye twitched. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, after all. He’d rather suffer under the artificial lights than…his breath quickened and his thoughts spiraled. He could feel hands on his shoulders. A fist to his left eye. A blow on his lower back. A sharp pain to his right wrist…

The lights suddenly went on. Tony gasped, body shivering from the phantom pain, the adrenaline forcing him to stay alive through all his tortures, while shock and uncertainty chained him close to reality.

Focus Tony. You can do it, whispered a soft motherly voice. He wailed at the sound of her voice. She was the only one he heard when everything went to shit. Not his mom or Ana, Edwin’s wife. No. Hers. He called her mammina even though Howard would have had a heart attack hearing him. She was a nurse, who used to take care of him every time he was kidnapped. All 7 times.

She was a middle age black woman, who had worked as their personal nurse in case of emergencies. She had given him more love in the first few months after his first kidnapping than both of his parents in years.

She’d smell like vanilla and cinnamon and talk softly. She’d always have a twinkle in her eyes every time she’d tell him a story. Tony used to be so thrilled to listen to her. Whatever the kind of story, whether it was fairytales or made-up ones from her life, he’d feel as if he was a part of it. She never made him feel worthless. She even learnt Italian for him, calling him her Tesorio, when he’d show her his grades reports and inventions, Cucciolo when Howard or Maria were missing his birthdays, and Luce dei miei Occhi, whenever she saw him.

If he’d been her light, she’d been his sun in the darkest night. He couldn’t recall one moment when he didn’t hear her voice calming him, cheering him, reassuring him. Even she wasn’t here physically, she was still in his head. Always.

Her death had hit him hard. Harder than his parents. Harder than the Jarvis. She had always been his pillar. His guide in life. He could recall a thousand proverbs, phrasing, advice for each different situation in life. She had prepared him for the real world, and yet, he somewhat felt like a failure. After her murder (she was shot while going to church), he had totally lost touch with reality. His parents had been dead for a few years by then and Jarvis and Ana for less than 2 years.

Tony should have been seen it coming. Everyone died because of him.

He went to the funeral and sat in the back of the church, feeling like an intruder. He had jumped to his feet a few minutes in the ceremony and tried to run out, when his mammina’s daughter, Celestia, intercepted him, calling him in front of the entire church, his name resonating in the holy building. He could still hear what she said, loud and clear.

“Tony, my baby brother. Mom wanted you with us, your brothers and sisters. Don’t run, please. Luce dei miei Occhi, come back to us.”

It only took a few words for him to feel the sun. The light he hadn’t expected to see again.

At the end, he found more than a mom, he had a family.

And every year he went to each of their birthday. He had[AB1] two baby siblings, two older brothers and one older sister, nieces, and nephews and even grandparents. They all accepted him for what he was and never used him, nor his money. They welcomed him when he was down, teaching him how to recover with love, a lot of talking and proof of fatherly/motherly love.

To say he’d been surprised, when he had to witness an “argument” between one of his nieces and her dad, would be a euphemism. He had feared the violence, the insults and other dismissal, but had been floored. They both had decided to go to their room for a few moments, the time to cool down and then talked in the living room in calmed voices. Not ones had he experienced an argument in his new family, even the most vocal ones, which didn’t end up calmly.

Never in his life had he seen a more functional family. More props to burn Howard’s grave.

“Sir,” JARVIS urged him.

Tony focused on his surroundings. DUM-E held a poisonous smoothie under his nose. How hadn’t seen him before?

“No, thanks, DUM-E”, he replied softly. “I feel a bit…nauseous”

DUM-E chirped sadly but moved away.

“Sir, are you all right?” JARVIS enquired worried.

“Yes, thank you, J’” Tony replied softly.

Tony stayed down for a moment. His breathing was back to normal and his migraine was gone. Maybe he should go to his bed and take a nap. He didn’t dare ask Jarvis for how long he’d been awake. He’d work on the prototypes later anyway.

He stood up, wobbling on his feet and made his way to the doors.

You should keep Cap’s name out of your mouth, Boy. He was worth ten of you.

He never was slacking; you should take example on him…not that you’d be able to reach his level anyway.

You may be a genius, but you still couldn’t free yourself. What are you, 9? 10? You’re old enough to get away from these clowns. Kidnapping? I call it attention seeking.

At your age, Steve fucking Rogers fought against bullies despite his asthma and scoliosis. What’s your excuse? Go back to work!

Tony tried to tune out the voice, but they kept getting louder.

“Stop!” He screamed panicked.

“Sir? Your heart rate is to high, do you need Dr. Banner?”

“No!” He exclaimed. “No,” he repeated softer. “I’m okay”.

Lies. JARVIS’s silence spoke volume.

“I’ll…Where are the capsicle couple?” he asked uncertain.

“On their floor. They had restricted the access.”

Tony ignored the tug in his heart.

“To whom?”

J’ took his time to reply. It didn’t comfort Tony at all.

“Only me, huh?”

Silence.

“If I had wanted you to be silent, I would have put you in a coffee machine, J’. But thanks for looking after me.”

“It is my duty and my honor to do so.”

Tony went back to the couch, took his clothes off, staying in underwear and laid down. The lights went down to a semi darkness.

“Where are the others?” Tony mumbled, half asleep.

“With the Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes, Sir.”

Tony snorted. J’ must be really mad at them to use their titles, he thought, dizzily. As he closed his eyes, he felt the embrace of his mommina and a kiss on his forehead.

DURING THE CIVIL WAR

Today was a good day, so Tony had thought. He wasn’t late in his projects, he signed contracts, surprising Pepper to silence (“No, I’m not going to die, again.” “Are you sure Tony?” Grunts in response.), he had even eaten his breakfast, lunch and snack. It was good day. Until Bucky came back to God knew where, dressed in a blue midnight suit. Steve was also wearing a suit. And by the look on their face, Tony believed he’d missed something and messed up already.

He probably had forgotten an anniversary. But even as he racked his brain he couldn’t think of a single anniversary. Christmas was in a few days and nothing remotely important happened in this month. Nothing worth being celebrated. So what?

“I’m sorry”, Tony said unsure. He didn’t even know why he was apologizing and couldn’t questioned J’. Glancing at the others, he could tell they knew about this “important” day. And what was it with the grim faces?

“Tony,” Steve called gently. “Are you not coming?”

“Where exactly are we supposed to go?” he asked in the same vulnerable voice. God, he hated that. The tension was torture. He half expected Clint to jump in front of him and admit it was a prank. No. Cap would never participate in this kind of activities. And Bucky had always expressed his resentment against suits and tuxedos in general.

“Tony” Bucky sighed. “The cemetery”

“Someone’s dead!” Tony exclaimed fear pumping in his veins. He looked sharply around trying to find clue. The others didn’t let anything show. Even Bruce who was bad a hiding his emotion.

“Stop joking, man,” Clint said calmly. “You can drop the mask. We are your friends too, you know. No one is going to judge you for mourning your parents.”

Tony’s laugh erupted. They…he…what now? He tried to stop himself as Steve’s frown went lower and lower and morphed into a disappointed face. Tony bit his lips and coughed for good measures.

“Tony, can’t you be serious?”, Natasha said coldly. “Have some respect. We know it is hard for you…”

“You know?” He failed containing his hysterical laugh. It kept bubbling and escaping is control.

“Yes, we know.” Bucky intervened. “He was not only your father, but our friends. One of our closest, actually. I…regretted more than anything murdering them. If I could…If I had been stronger…”

“Don’t Buck, it was not your fault,” Bruce reassured him. “There was nothing you could have done to prevent that.”

Tony laugh died somewhere between Buck’s guilt and regret. Tony’s right hand felt too heavy, hanging by his side. He crossed his arms to relieve the tension.

“I won’t go.” He stated firmly.

“Why?” Bucky asked with a small voice. “Is it because of me? Because I could stay in the-”

“No Bucky. If you can’t go, I won’t. But Tony, we’ve known Howard the longest. He was our closest friend, don’t do that. He had helped finding Bucky when he was tortured and helped me adapting to my new body. He provided us unique gears. He was there for us. He…he had respected me despite my small height, my sickness. He saw the soldier in me. He believed in me,” Steve pleaded.

Tony felt the glares from the others and shuffled on his feet. He resisted the need to give in.

Stark men are made of iron, but you are none that. I don’t know who your father is, but it is certainly not me. Always crying, complaining…(laughter)

Look what you made me do! Stopping the production of weapon to built this…(throws the object at Tony’s face). You should thank me on your knees, boy! No one would do that for a burden like you.

“It is not the problem, Bucky, Steve. It has nothing to do with their murder or your friendship. You can go, but I won’t. I wasn’t going to, anyway, so it doesn’t change anything.”

Silence. Tony’s eyes stayed fixed on his biggest “threat”, Steve. He was red, not the sexy, embarrassing kind. No. The ugly kind. Tony widen his stance preparing for the worst. Steve would not hit him. He was 100% sure. But his words had the same effect anyway.

“Can’t you be more respectful, Anthony. Some of us didn’t have the chance to live a lavish lifestyle with caring parents. I don’t even know where my ma’ and pa’ are buried,” Bucky deplored.

Et tu, Brutus? Tony’s head snapped toward Bucky. What the hell? And “Anthony”, really? Bucky’s face revealed discontent. His eyes were narrowed and he stood tall and strong.

“I beg you pardon, James” Tony hissed annoyed.

“Tony,” Steve warned him, inching to stand in front of Bucky. Tony’s eyebrow went so high he felt a strain in his left eyelid.

“What?!”

“After everything they’ve done for you (to you supplied mammina’s voice). And you couldn’t do that? Going to their grave and commemorating their lives should be the bare minimal. After all, if it wasn’t for them, you’d be (loved) nothing,” Bucky spat.

“No…nothing!” Tony spluttered indignantly. “They were never around me. I didn’t even call them mom or dad, they had always been Maria and Howard. They were never there for any of my birthdays, celebrations, school representations, not even the annual parents-teacher meeting. I. Made. Myself. I was born alone, and I’ll die too.” He ended up breathless. He hadn’t wanted to spill these details. Hell, he hadn’t even talk about the worse of it.

“All I heard was “poor rich Anthony Edward Stark, mommy and daddy worked too hard to make the Earth a better world for me”, “poor me, I seek attention…”

The rest of Bucky rant was lost. His father words came back in full circle.

Then Sunset’s words “you were always too much. Too needy. Always seeking attention”.

Tiberius “I don’t know what I’d done with this attention seeking whore. Really Anthony is only good when he opened his legs. I don’t see the genius in him.”

Obediah “God, Tony, lay low for a few months and seek help. Closing the weapon sector, but for what? My attention? You didn’t need that for me to care for you. Don’t be delusional, what would your father say?”

Maria “Anthony, stop, touching my dress, you’re ruining it. (She called someone behind the 3-year-old Tony.) Hey, you! Go take Anthony to his room and locked it. (She went back to her conversation). If I had known he’d be so clingy I’d have given him some sleeping pills in his baby bottle. (Laughter).”

Mammina “Tony, why are you so far from me, come nearer. You know you can always come to me. (Tony mumbles a few words). An attention seeker? Baby no, where did you hear these words? (Tony stayed silent) Cucciolo, I would never lie to you, you know that. You are the cutest little child ever, and I have 3 of them. You’ve met them and they absolutely love you. You are the perfect big brother, Tesorio.”

Tony closed his eyes, took a sharp breath and straightened his back.

“You can all call me by any name in the book: whore, worthless piece of shit...” Bucky flinched, panicked. He opened his mouth, but Tony kept going. “Warmonger, Merchant of Death, attention seeker --” He spat the name. “...but it wouldn’t change the fact that the person you knew as my biological father was a disgusting man, and my biological mother an air-head bint”. Tony approached slowly from the soldiers. He felt enraged. How could Bucky even say that? If he wasn’t so angry, he’d cry at the ice-cold words of his lover, but he was on a rampage. “I should actually thank you. Thanks Bucky dear, you made me a huge favor: to not be in the same world as them”, he finished with a deformed smiled. He knew he looked demented. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t care.

Bucky’s expression went from guilty to confused. He pressed his left hand flat on Tony’s collarbone to push him away or hug him, Tony couldn’t tell. He brought his own hand on top of Bucky’s, moving the vibranium one to his neck. Immediately, Bucky backed off horrified.

“Was it with this hand you choked her to death? God, this stupid bint couldn’t shut up! How many times she drugged me, and put me to sleep, because I was “too attention seeking.” He screamed at the top of his lungs. Bucky stared at him with an unreadable expression. Tony may have lost his got damn mind, and he didn’t care at all. He strutted to the elevator facing them.

“Do you hear that Howard, you “made me” Tony cackled. “I’d blow your grave, if it wouldn’t give you satisfaction”. As he entered the elevator, belly cramped by his laugh, he yelled through his tears. “Burn to hell Howard and Maria! Burn…”

TEAM CAP

“What the hell was that?” Clint said in shock.

“Stark lost his goddamn mind, that’s what it was,” Natasha replied faintly surprised, which said something.

Bruce was the only one not saying anything. Tony’s act had reminded him of…himself. But, no…Howard could have never abused him. Bruce shook his head clearing his mind. No, Tony just acting as a spoiled child. A very insulting one.

“Should we go check on him?” Bruce asked with mixed feelings. Tony had the chance to have parents providing for them and he literally wish them hell. The Hulk pushed his walls. Bruce took a few deep breaths. Tiny tin man sad, Hulk repeated in his head. Bruce didn’t even try to explain the situation, Hulk wouldn’t understand the situation.

Bruce put his head in his hands. He could feel the headache creeping.

“No.” Stave said categorically. He had his Captain voice. “I don’t know who this man was, but I’m...” His voice broke. “...disgusted by this behavior. It was not our sweet Bambi,” Steve finished lamely.

Silence.

“I guess Natasha; you were right in your report on him,” Bucky commented defeated.

“And I was starting to believe that I had been mistaken,” she reflected disappointed.

“What are you doing to do?” Clint asked tired.

“What do you mean?” Bruce answered, head still down.

“Are you going to bench him? Because I don’t trust someone who could say that and act like a maniac. And what about your relationship? I know it’s not our business, but we are family. A fucked-up one, but still.��

Steve looked at Bucky and sighed. Bucky had this faraway look in his eyes. His left-hand twitching next to him. Whatever he’d say, he’d not be able to get out of the loop Tony had pushed him in. Steve massaged his own temples.

“Is it how you all feel?”.

Everyone raised their hand, even Bucky.

“Ok. He’s benched. I’ll tell him tonight at the dinner. As for our relationship…” He took a deep breath. “If we can’t trust him to have our backs on missions…” He left the rest unsaid.

“We’re coming with you!” Clint declared out of the sudden. The rest followed slowly, still under the effect of Tony’s outburst. “Give us 10 to change and we’ll meet you at the Quinjet or the car?”

“Quinjet. It’s quicker that way. They were buried upstate.” Steve answered quickly, as Bucky fled. Steve followed him worried. He waved at the rest of the group and entered the elevator, next to his lover.

“Do you think he is…ok? He looked like he’d do something crazy. And that laugh…” Bucky’s all body trembled.

Steve hugged him and kissed the crown of his head. Bucky went lax in his embrace. He sniffed a few times as Steve murmured sweet nonsense to his ears. It opened the gate for their tears. Steve didn’t want to end their relationship. Tony had been his home in this century, helping him and proving him wrong from left to right. But…he had to be strong for Bucky and, most importantly, the team. He resisted the need to go to the workshop, pounding on the tainted windows, and confront Tony.

It must be a big misunderstanding. It had to be.

Please Howard and Maria, forgive Tony, he found himself praying silently. He himself had wished for his dad to survive the war and his mom to see him become a man. Please God, let it be a big misunderstanding.

If Tony apologized tonight, Steve would take him back, no judgements. He’d be benched for a couple of days, but Steve would hold to him for as long he’d let him. The pain in his heart matched the distress in Bucky’s eyes.

“You know him, he probably is working to cool down. Anyway JARVIS is here to help him if he needs anything.”

“I would have never thought he’d blown up like that. I read the psychological report of Natasha but dismissed it. Tony had forgiven me and given me a new arm. He even went into a relationship with us. How couldn’t we that side of him?”

Steve shrugged. When he thought about it, Tony had never been particularly keen on talking about his parents. Jarvis and Ana, ok. At first, even Steve had thought they were his godparents, not the butler and his wife. And when Bucky told stories about Howard, Tony tended to shy away and changed the subject. Steve was now frowning. Something dark and ugly woke up in the pit of his mind.

“Well, I don’t know. At first, I thought he never liked talking about them because he missed them, but after what we’ve just witnessed, I’d say he really hates them.”

“Do you think they could have been more than distant parents? He said stuff about his mom drugging him and his dad being a monster. But Howard had never been like that, right Steve?” Bucky asked, guilt pouring in his voice.

Steve heard the rest of his questions loud and clear. Were we so blind that we inflicted emotional pain to our lover? And the most important, what if it was true? Steve couldn’t reconcile the image of Howard, sweet and joyful Howard, and the one from Tony’s memories. If Steve…he swallowed with difficulty. If he were to believe Tony, and a big part of him already did, because Tony had never seen so raw, begging for them to believe him through his rage, Steve would set the entire cemetery on fire.

So, he hugged Bucky tightly and tried to reassure him.

“Sweetheart, no. Don’t do that. You can’t guilt yourself for that. Even blinded by his anger, Tony didn’t blame you for their death. He was angry and lashed out. He would have done the same or worse if it was me.” Steve refused to talk about the thanks for their murder. What the hell, Tony! Steve thought anger flaring in his chest. It wasn’t fair for Bucky, his sweet love he shouldn’t have to relive his worst moments. They survived the Depression, war, ice/Hydra and they were still together. Has everything been a sham? They had given their life for a better future, putting their lives in their friends’ hands, who were supposed to hold the peace torch, when Steve and the other soldiers couldn’t anymore.

But, it also explained why Tony was so jagged, his control issues, lack of trust, insecurities, big mouth…

It wasn’t fair for him too, their Bambi…Steve contained his tears. The mere thought of little Tony being afraid, unsafe (Drugged, he said) and sad, made him sick and furious.

Steve deflated.

No, Howard couldn’t…he hadn’t…

“He thanked me…” Bucky said broken. He pushed Steve, bending and heaving. Steve massaged his neck slowly.

“He didn’t mean it, Babe. He wanted to rile us up. You’ve seen how hysterical he was…”

It took a few minutes for Bucky to come back to himself, and even then, his face had a greenish undertone. A fit despite the serum.

“JARVIS, could you tell us if Tony is not okay, please?”

The AI took a few moments to reply.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky nodded silently, while Steve cringed. What a fucking day.

POST CIVIL WAR

Tony woke up at the sound of an alarm. He groaned and covered his head.

“Sir, the others are already here. They have prepared dinner and request your presence.”

“What are the odd I could charm my way out of this trap?” Tony asked sarcastically.

“Slim to none. Emphasis on the none.”

Tony laughed and stood up. His left eye was blurry, but alas, he didn’t have the time to fix it, as well as his hand, which gave him hell. Stark men are made of iron, he said out loud to give him more strength.

The voice of mammina replied full of wit. “Oh, really? I don’t know about the Stark men but my little Tesorio is made of love. No one can take love away from you. It makes you fly, melt, explode, you feel invincible. Once you love, Tonio, you could rule the world, and bend any types of iron. I love you, my Luce. I’m proud of you, no matter what.”

Tony wiped his tears. I hope you are still proud of me. As he entered the elevator, his phone rang. One of his little brothers.

“What do you want Darius?” Tony asked upfront.

“Listen, listen. Go on, talk to him” Darius replied in a hush tone.

“’Onc’ ‘Ony! Onc’ ‘Ony!”

Tony cooed and felt his inside melt. His baby nephew, Anthony, was just a few months old and already a beam of joy in his life. He had more pictures than he dared to admit. Sue him, his nephew was the cutest, with his little dimples and crooked smile. But then again, his other niece and nephew had him wrapped around their chubby fingers.

“Hello big boy, Oncle Tony is so proud of you!” He cooed in his “I’m going to melt inside and have cavities” voice.

“Do you imagine our surprise when his first words were ‘Ony and then Onc’ Ony’. I swear to God, we won’t invite you anymore. That’s the third baby doing that stuff. Are you sure you don’t have any magic, bro?”

Tony laughed through his happy tears.

“I guess I have some magic left from mammina”.

“True, true”, he conceded. “Are you still coming for the commemoration?”

“Of course! I have never missed one and wouldn’t dare. I don’t want mammina to haunt me and whoop my ass.” Tony joked.

“Pfff. She’d never do that. You were always her favorite, didn’t know why. We knew she worked for a white and rich family (Tony rolled his eyes amused), and then we saw your scrawny ass and lost puppy eyes. Couldn’t resist this kid who needed to be our protector, even though, he was pocket size.”

“Hey! Although I liked the beginning of your story, the wording could be better. I never was pocketsize; we call it fun size.” He pouted.

“Who? The members of your “fun size” group”.

Tony grunted. Darius laughed and bid him goodbye in a hurry. Apparently, his nephew had taken his diaper off and was smearing poop on the white walls. Tony’s laugh resonated in the stilled elevator. J’ opened the doors as he placed the phone in his pocket.

The sight in front of him made him frown. He prepared himself to stay calm and have a mature conclusion to their arguments like he’d seen with his siblings. Mammina’s advice about love was about to come handy. They at least deserve the truth and some apologies. Hearing them talk about his parents so fondly had made him angry, jealous, then sad. Why was he not enough? Could he have done better, be a more obedient child… no. He wouldn’t go there. He had to stay clear-headed.

Steve and Bucky had changed clothes. They were now wearing hoodies and joggings. Their comfort clothes. Like him. He had found Steve’s hoodie and Bucky’s jogging, in one of his private stashes. He would deny taken them and some other of their items because it soothed him.

This was going to be long. He took a deep breath as he walked towards the kitchen. The rest of the team were standing up around the table.

Steve went on Tony’s left and Bucky next to Steve. Tony stared at them sadly. The fluffy conversation with Darius seemed like years ago.

“You had fun on the phone,” Clint noticed calmly. Almost too much. It was such a 180 with his jerk personality.

“It’s not every day that you nephew’s first words are “Onc’ Ony”. Well, the two others did the same. So, I was kinda happy.”

“Lying Stark? You don’t have no family left,” Natasha accused him, eyes narrowed.

“So, family is only the people from your blood, got it.” Tony replied without showing any annoyance. He took his phone, scrolled down a few family pictures and showed them one, where his papà was still alive. Before cancer took him.

He introduced each member, referring them as his baby brothers or older ones. His finger trembled as he reached the head of the family. Mammina and Papà. A little Tony could be seen standing proudly next to two smaller kids.

“It was my mammina.” He explained softly. “She was the best woman in the world. She took care of me when I got kidnapped. She was always here to help me, heal me. She built me.” He threw a glance at Bucky, who was frowning.

“Kidnapping?” Bruce asked in disbelief.

“Tony…Why would they kidnap you?” Steve asked, as skeptical as Bruce.

“I’m a genius. I was the one proofing Howard’s blueprint. By the age of 7, I had improved one of his Jericho. But people kidnapped me because of money. They thought Howard would pay them. He never did. (Tony raised a hand to cut the protestations.) J’ will send you all the medical reports and police ones. He will also forward my file from CPS. I know it’s hard to believe it. He was your friend and never showed his other side. When you both went down, he died too. He became…” Tony choked on his words.

“How can we believe you, when you were so maniac, this afternoon? You hurt Bucky and used his guilt to make a point.” Natasha asked, arms crossed.

“If you don’t believe the official papers, you should ask Coulson and Fury. They won’t lie to you.”

“What?” Bruce blurted.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked concerned.

“I don’t have the envy, nor the will to go through the verbal and physical abuse of my parents. Coulson and Fury were there to retrieve me from Shield office after each kidnapping. They couldn’t do anything because my dad financed the entire organization,” Tony explained bitter. “Call me selfish but this woman and this man (he showed mammina and papà), were my real parents and those are my brothers and sisters, grandparents…They are MY family. They chose me when my real parents didn’t.”

The room grew silent. Tony tap his left eye and groaned in pain.

“Are you okay, Tony?” Bruce inquired, with a certain unease.

He waved at Bruce, brushing his concern. Gosh, it itched. Fuck it, they already knew too much already. With his right index, he pressed firmly his temple and with his thumb pressed the corner of his eye. He felt the prosthetic pop out, disconnecting from the electronical socket linked to his brain. After all these times, he still felt proud of himself. He had succeeded in something his dad could have never.

Everyone can create a missile Howard, but it takes a genius to create something so complex connected to the brain.

“Tony!”

Bruce’s voice bloomed in the room.

“The fuck!” Clint swore.

“Bambi?”

Tony finally paid attention to his surroundings. The lack of pressure on his socket almost made him come. If only he had his cotton swab and alcohol. He gritted his teeth to recede his pleasure. It wasn’t the right time to be distracted.

He turned blindly on his left and bumped against a wall. A human one. Tony raised his head and met Steve’s blurry ones.

“We are so sorry Tony. We didn’t know. It certainly explained why you didn’t want to talk about them.”

Tony frowned. They believed him, like that.

“Don’t you want to read the files, before trusting me?” He asked with a small voice.

Bucky shook his head.

“No, Doll. If you want, you’ll talk to us about it, but we won’t read anything. We trust you. Like you trusted me with my issues.”

Tony was left speechless. He had expected screams, fat tears and a few blows. It was anticlimactic at best. He tried to remember what Darius had told him about reconciliation. Now was his time to “apologize”.

“Ok. Ok. I have some apologies to say.” He held his hand to stop them, from interrupting him. “I should have talked to you frankly. If we had discussed about them, none of that would have happened. I should have understood that the people they were with you and with me were totally different. You’ve known them as your friends. And you wanted to visit your friends and not them as my parents.”

“That’s stupid, Bambi, and you know it. If we’d known what they did to you, we would have been pissed, and maybe broke a tombstone or two.”

“Steve!” Tony screamed flabbergasted. He glanced at Bucky who shrugged smugly.

“I told you he was a little punk.”

Steve didn’t even resent this affirmation. He was smirking (SMIRKING) proudly.

“So…you are okay?”

Clint looked so out of it. Natasha didn’t look like she really believed Tony. As if pulling his own eye wasn’t proof enough.

“What Clint meant, is that we still don’t trust you, Stark. And we had decided to bench you.”.

Tony step back, eye going from each of them to stop on Steve’s pleading ones.

“What?”

“We weren’t sur you were ok. What you said without context scared us.”

Tony’s left hand flew to his neck as a reassuring gesture. He massaged the place under his jaw. Bucky made a strangled noise, making him stop.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I should have never done that and sorry for thanking you. Even though, I am still relieved they are dead. I wished it wouldn’t have been by your hands.” Tony apologized ashamed; face pinched in a pained grimace. He sighed deeply. “I understand all of your concern and I…would stay out until you deem me worthy.”

Bucky surged forward pushing a frozen Steve. He grabbed Tony’s face, pressing their foreheads together.

“You. Are. Not. Worthless” Bucky said through clenched teeth. “I don’t care what Howard or Maria said to you, but you are definitely not worthless.” Tony couldn’t avert his eyes and felt compelled to spill more truths, Howards truths.

“You should keep Cap’s name out of your mouth, Boy. He was worth ten of you.” He mumbled eyes now closed. He couldn’t handle to see the pity in those baby blue.

Steve gasped audibly. Bucky’s hand gripped tightly his face, pleading him to stop.

“Cap and Sarge were never slacking; you should take example on them…not that you’d be able to reach their level, anyway.”

Bucky’s breath hitched. Tony felt two additional arms around him.

“You may be a genius, but you still couldn’t free yourself. What are you, 9? 10? You’re old enough to get away from these clowns. Kidnapping? I call it attention seeking.”

Bucky stepped away, breathing loudly. You have done it, Tones, they are going to leave you. They’ll see that you are not good enough and leave you, he thought darkly.

“Buck!”

“Bruce”

Tony opened his eyes just in time to witness Bucky breaking his kitchen counter and Bruce’s departure. Clint and Natasha went after Bruce, leaving them all alone. What the hell just happened! Steve walked carefully to Bucky. He looked wildly around him, in defensive posture. Steve’s hands were raised in front of him.

“Bucky, everything is ok. There is no threat.”

“Tony,” he replied miserably before breaking down. He sobbed in Steve’s arms, eyes locked on Tony. He raised an arm to make it come. Anthony E. Stark would have deflected and made a run for it, then hid in his workshop, but Tesorio raised by his fierce mama sucked it up and approached. Steve let go of Bucky and embraced them both, crushing them both into his chest.

Tony hissed in pain. Steve backed away.

“What is wrong? Did we hurt you?”

Tony shook his head. His right wrist was, again, acting up. He should have never slept on it. He massaged his wrist firmly and waited for a little whirling sound.

Immediately, the servos in the socket released the prosthetic. Tony moaned as the pinched nerve in his human upper wrist relaxed. He held his right hand with his flesh one, as he kept massaging the injured one.

“J’, pull up the blueprint for the latest version of Dub 4 and add a note to look for any rust. And also contact Dr. Cho, for my usual appointment.”

“Done, Sir.”

“Thanks.”

Still in his thought, it took him more time to notice the heavy silence.

Oh.

Steve was again in his personal space, Bucky on his right. They both eyed him with awe and sadness.

“I was 7, my third kidnapping. They wanted me to build something or were mad at my dad for not coming nor paying them. Knowing I was a genius they had the brilliant idea to extract my eye. I was unconscious. I guess.” Tony explained while massaging under the eye pocket. “The hand came before I went to MIT. I had already won multiple engineering /robotic prizes. They had wanted me to build a missile, the first one. Guess Obediah was already dealing under the table. When I didn’t want, they severed my hand. I was conscious.” Tony stated numb. He hated thinking of his past defenseless self. He wished he could hug and protect his younger self.

Bucky pushed Steve aside and scooped Tony in his arms. He squealed but didn’t try to escape for once. Steve followed them briskly.

Once in their room, Bucky laid him in the middle of the bed and hugged him. Sweet nonsense pouring out of his mouth. Tony tried to ask Steve for help, but he joined them and did the same. Tony closed his eyes, fighting his weaker side.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

His persona broke piece by piece.

“I want my mammina,” he cried loudly, tears rolling down his cheeks. He missed her warmth, her smile, her scent. She should have been here instead of him. He destroyed so many lives building weapons while she was killed by them. Mammina, forgive me, please, he prayed in his heart.

“We know, Doll”

“We are sorry, Bambi”

“We’ll make it up for you”

“We love you”

Bucky’s strong body in front of him prevented him from curling on himself. He placed his head his heart, as Steve pressed his body in his back.

Soft kisses made him relaxed. She used to do that when he had nightmares, kissing his demons away.

“I ‘ove you, too” He confessed softly.

“Tell us about them, your family.”

When I was 3, I met this nurse. She was…

Notes: Two baby siblings one his Kareem, Ahmaud.

Two older brothers Darius, Joseph

One older sister Janice

Mother masterrliiiisssstt ✨✨✨🐱‍🏍

#part 1 of many #stuckony #tony stark #writing #marvel mcu #mcu #character of color #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky x steve x tony #tw child abuse #child abuse #angst with a hopeful ending #black woman #adoptee #family adoptive #black woman character #black characters

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grimelords · 5 years ago

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Hello I finished my July playlist a week ago but when I went to post it tumblr was down, and then I just plumb forgot! Anyway, here it is - properly sequenced this time for a very special listening experience that seamlessly delivers you from disco heaven to black metal hell and everything in between. Also I’m thinking of making these playlists a tinyletter that people can subscribe to that comes out on an actual schedule, rather than me posting them at a random time weeks after they’re finished. Is that something you’d be interested in? Who knows. Check back next month! Anyway, here goes:

listen here

Stay Away From Me - The Sylvers: You know when you’re listening to a song and the sample is super hot but the rest is just ok, so you think to yourself well why don’t I just listen to the original instead? That’s what happened to me with Final Form by Sampa The Great. That song is good but it’s also kind of not doing enough to convince me not to just listen to this super hit by The Sylvers instead. A fun thing with this song is to try to count how many instruments you can hear because it is surprisingly densely arranged for some reason. There’s a xylophone back there going off if you listen.

Sizzlin’ Hot - Paradise: The same thing happened with this song and Sizzlin’ by Daphni. I think they were going for an Armand Van Helden style distillation of the pure essence of the song, sampling the hookiest part and speeding it up and thickening up all the percussion and all that, which can work amazingly but for me it just made me want to hear the original and so I have been all month. What’s so good about being alive now is that in most cases it’s just as easy to access music from 2019 as it is to access music from 1981 where an original copy is apparently going for $1000 on discogs. Every day I thank god for inventing mp3s and putting them on the ark.

Manaos (Canzone) - Fabio Frizzi and Crossbow: I forget how I came across this, I was going through random Fabio Frizzi soundtracks for some reason. I just love the concept of a disco song about escaping from vicious assailants. Funkily singing ‘God help us, if they catch us we all are gonna die.’ as spears fly past you.

Holding On - Julio Bashmore: I think this is one of my favourite pieces of sampling ever. The way the vocals in the background are cut they don’t even sound like vocals. They just a strange contextless textural sound that works so well before eventually revealing itself as vocals in the run before the drop. It’s just so good.

Weight Watchers - Parallel Dance Ensemble: First of all I love this disgusting bass sound. It sounds like two different indistinct bass lines playing at the same time and they both drowned. I’m also mounting a change.org petition to bring back this kind of extremely naff Tone Loc flow, it rocks.

Dance - ESG: I found this incredible band while I was looking for the rapper ESG and I’m so glad I did. Their song UFO is one of those songs that’s been sampled so many times you think of it as more of a sound effect than a song, like it comes preloaded on a drum machine everyone has or something, but it’s also a good template for ESG’s sound. Every ESG song I’ve heard so far goes like this: a straightforward beat that doesn’t change for the whole song, a functional bassline that doesn’t change for the whole song, and good old fashioned simple lyrics about dancing and having a good time that sound more like schoolyard clapping games than anything. It doesn’t sound like much but over the course of an album it adds up to this incredible sort of hypnotic post-punk funk that I cannot get enough of. It sounds like kids who have 1 idea making a whole album out of it because that’s exactly what it is and it’s great!

Crave You - Flight Facilities: I love how elementally simple this song is. The vocals are hypnotising enough so everything else just quietly supports it. The only part that stands out is the thick bass synth halfway through which makes the short sax solo at the and all the sweeter, a tiny little cherry on top.

You - Delta 5: Get a load of this band bio: “Initially inspired by the success of local heroes The Mekons and Gang Of Four, Leeds, England’s Delta 5 later emerged as one of the key figures of the feminist new wave. Formed in 1979 by vocalist/guitarist Julz Sale, fretless bassist Ros Allen and bassist Bethan Peters.” Just going to gloss over them having TWO bass players before they even have a drummer?? Absolutely amazing. I love this song because it’s such a specific, targeted fury. Imagine being the loser at your girlfriend’s gig when she launched into this one for the first time. ‘who’s got homebrew with lots of sediment?’ oh fuck that’s me ‘who took me to the Windham for a big night out?’ oh fuck that’s me ‘I found out about you’ oh FUCK

Siren - Gong Gong Gong: I love the way the bass works in this, just looping and layering different variations of this noisy, stationary riff on top of itself - steadfastly staying in the exact same place the whole song and growing in power the whole time as it sits in its stubbornness.

Changes - Antonio Williams and Kerry McCoy: This came up on my Discover Weekly and I completely fell in love with it, then I realised it’s Antwan and Kerry McCoy from Deafheaven which is extremely intriguing collaboration and fell in love even more. The vocals are so good. The pure broken-hearted anguish, and the super blunt delivery that progresses to straight up yelling by the end of it combined with the Radio Dept type instrumentation is just so powerful. This feels like it’s a song that could really be a life-changing piece of catharsis for everyone in a 5k radius done live.

Fuck A War - Geto Boys: Absolutely in love with the conceit of this song: rapping a whole song down the line to the army drafter. The incredible part being of course that Bushwick Bill would be able to dodge any draft easily, being as he was both a dwarf and blind in one eye.

God Make Me Funky - The Headhunters: I found a lot of great songs going through the samples list for We Can’t Be Stopped by Geto Boys and this is one of them. I have so much love for any song that takes its time like this: nearly two minutes to set the scene and somehow taking deadly seriously the very funny lyrical idea of desperately praying to god to PLEASE make you funky. The way this song escalates is also amazing, moving from a hot groove that sits in place to a full-on saxophone meltdown that feels like god placing his finger on your forehead and saying ‘so you want to be funky, do you?’ in a scary voice.

Use Me - Bill Withers: Fortunately and unfortunately, because of how this song was in Anchorman and because I’ve seen Anchorman one million times I can’t listen to it without hearing the noise Ron Burgundy makes when he sees Veronica in the first few seconds. Anyway, this song is so horny. The part where he has to explain to his bro how good this shit is? Doing all kinds of weird dom shit like ‘getting him in a crowd of high class people and then acting real rude to him?’ Weird. And the escalation into the claps at BABY! is amazing, he’s just going off powered by horniness and god bless him for it.

America! I’m For The Birds - Nicolas Jaar: Unbelievably, the deluxe edition of Sirens is possibly superior to the original. It’s a whole new tracklist, new songs interspersed throughout rather than the usual ‘three new songs at the end’ and it really gives it a whole new feel. This song is my favourite of the new ones and it’s a song I had in my head for a solid week. A perfect song to sing to yourself because the lyrics are so indistinct that you just end up mumbling pleasantly exactly like he is.

Cable Guy - Tierra Whack: I’m finally catching up on Tierra Whack and everyone’s right: she rocks. The sheer restraint in these songs is amazing, they just get in and out with only the good parts and no bullshit. It reminds me a lot of To The Innocent by Thingy which is one of my favourite albums for the same reason - the economy of the songwriting just serves to amplify the feeling of it. They both have this total irreverence in the lyricism where the songs are kind of about nothing but they’re so short and heartfelt that you dig for the feeling underneath it.

No Drug Like Me - Carly Rae Jepsen: I’ve previously written that what I love the most about the Carly Rae Jepsen is how horny it is and I’d like to double down on that sentiment here. I love how slow this song is, it’s the perfect tempo between danceable and ‘fucking’.

Con Calma (Remix) - Daddy Yankee, Katy Perry and Snow: I’ve been on a european holiday for most of this month and I would like to report that across Spain, Portugal, Czech Republic, France and Germany this is the absolute song of the summer. It is completely inescapable and personally I can’t get enough. Informer is one of the greatest and strangest one hit wonders of all time (it’s also canada’s highest selling reggae song of all time and Snow is thusly named because he’s white) and I’m psyched to hear it reworked by Daddy Yankee like this. Katy Perry being on the crossover attempt remix isn’t a good sign for her new album but she kills it so maybe that’s all that matters.

Chase The Devil - Max Romeo and The Upsetters: Here’s the other half of my short lived dub phase from the end of last month. This is a good example also of how completely beguiling lyrics can still be so effective. I have no idea what he means by putting on an iron shirt but it rhymes and he’s saying it with conviction so I’m nodding!

Glass - Bat For Lashes: The new Bat For Lashes songs have got me revisiting Two Suns which is an all time great five star album and this is my favourite song from it. Maybe the most powerful opening track of all time, it does as much worldbuilding as most fantasy novels do in 1000 pages. In fact almost every line in this is a viable fantasy novel title. A Thousand Crystal Towers. The Hand Of The Watchmen. A Knight In Crystal Armour. A Cape Of Rainbow. The way she sings ‘to be made of glass’ is.. incredible. I love Natasha Khan and I cannot wait to see what she does next.

Unsquare Dance - Paddy Milner: In searching spotify for other interpretations of Unsquare Dance after getting obsessed with it last month I came across this absolutely bonkers version. It’s maniacal, it feels like you would be physically and mentally drained by the end playing it because I am just listening to it. Need a little lie down.

Gimme Some Skin, My Friend - The Andrews Sisters: My girlfriend has turned me onto The Andrews Sisters lesser known hits recently and this is the best one: a song from when high fives were a novelty that those wacky blacks over in Harlem town were inventing. Extremely odd but an undeniable banger. The thing about The Andrews Sisters is one of them was an absolute force of nature as a performer and the other two were complete wet blankets and it’s kind of funny they were together as a group for their whole career because anyone with eyes can see where the real star is. The way she sings ‘baby’ at 1:25, and that whole run really, is absolutely amazing and so much better than this extremely dumb song deserves.

Kids On The Run - The Tallest Man On Earth: The piano sound alone in this is just so beautiful. This song could be about anything at all and it would still make me cry, and luckily for me: it basically is!

King Of Spain - The Tallest Man On Earth: Good song I had in my head the whole time I was in Spain. It’s incredible that his voice is so good. It feels like if it was even the tiniest bit different, slightly rougher or tinnier he would be completely hilariously unlistenable but instead he’s amazing. Plus the fact that he leans into it with the purposefully lo-fi trebly production is just so confident you can’t help but love it.

Romeo And Juliet - The Indigo Girls: A great cover I wasn’t aware of before that I heard in this great documentary Wildwood I was watching https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOWxnh012J0. The way she absolutely flies off the handle and nearly tears the song down around her near the last chorus is pure power and I love people who can do that in an acoustic song without it feeling overblown, just getting totally swept up in it and taking everyone along with you.

On The Bus Mall - The Decemberists: Definitely the number one song about gay teenage prostitutes who love each other and are optimistic against the odds.

White Fire - Angel Olsen: This song feels like a piece of dark magic. It feels like a 4am moment of clarity, speaking everything true in a five minute monotone and then instantly falling back to sleep with only a dim memory in the morning.

Glass Eyes -JW Ridley: JW Ridley is a genius and I cannot wait to see what he does with an album. Every song he puts out seems to be better than his last. The central melody in this is just beautiful, and the whole thing has so much space in it it feels so much longer than 3 minutes. It’s like a song you can live in.

Nullarbor - Floodlights: I love how rough this song is, and driving across australia because you’ve got nothing else going on and want to rattle your own cage is a Huge mood.

Made Too Pretty (Audiotree Live Version) - As Cities Burn: I’m so glad As Cities Burn are back, because it means they get to do good shit like this Audiotree session where they absolutely killed it.

Dirty Hearts - Dallas Crane: I think I’ve put this on a playlist before for exactly the same reason: it’s a song I wake up with in my head fairly often for some reason and it’s a very fun slice of pub rock that doesn’t overstay it’s welcome.

Ruin This Smile - The Number 12 Looks Like You: Did you know The Number 12 Looks Like You have reformed after 10 years away and haven’t missed a step at all?? I’m salivating. This song is as good as anything they’ve put out before, and feels like it fits somewhere between Mongrel and Worse Than Alone which is fantastic news for me who always loved those a lot more than their earlier more explicitly grindcore stuff.

Nutrient Painting - Yellow Eyes: A special thanks to my friend and yours Powerburial for linking this song on his twitter. There’s something about the guitars in this song, in almost every riff, where it sounds like they’re playing backwards somehow. Like the structure of the melodies is backwards. It doesn’t make sense but that’s what it sounds like to me and it’s very disconcerting.

Jejune Stars - Bright Eyes: I think this an underrated Conor Oberst era, when he became a sort of buddhist for a while and wasn’t sad anymore but just observed earth from outer space instead. I also love the instrumentation of this song, Bright Eyes and blast beats a match made in heaven. Also the strange sample about pom’granite at the end is one of my favourite things ever. A very strange album to retire the Bright Eyes name on but a very good one too.

At The Bar - Dirty Three: When I was overseas I was thinking about cultural music, and Australia’s place in the world and things like that. I ended up thinking about Dirty Three who I think along with The Drones make the most distinctly Australian sounding music to me. Just the vastness they manage to conjure from such straightforward barebones instrumentation is incredible.

listen here

#Playlists

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cabinboy100 · 5 years ago

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MR ROBOT: Welcome to Farth, the parallel…

Spoiler alert: This is being written after viewing season 4 episode 11, “411: eXit”, and will likely include spoilery references to events up to that episode. If you’re not caught up, proceed at your own risk!

PARALLEL VISION…

Let's assume that the parallel world that we saw at the end of 411 is not real. What it is is a vision induced by drugs and guided by suggestion given by Whiterose or one of her agents. Like DM Whiterose is taking Half-Elf Elliot thru a module, but it all seems real to Elliot.

A simulation delivered via VR or a brain-computer interface Matrix could explain the experience as well, but I don't love that because we haven't had any hint of that sort of tech or manipulation before. Sure, MAYbe the Whiterose's machine has been about that, but all we've heard and seen about it has hinted at many-worlds and/or time travel. We've seen Elliot experience an unreal world before in season 1, in the wack-a-doodle key-quest he embarks upon while going thru detox withdrawal.

NB. I believe that a simulated world or an imagined one can be parallel as well. But I’m 50/50 on whether the show will care about that distinction. =)

I can think of three real world moments when Elliot could have entered this state (assuming it didn’t happen back when Tyrell shot him—possible, but I don’t want to think about it).

1. At the end of 401, either when the overdose was administered or the resuscitative drug was. 2. Sometime between Elliot leaving Darlene at the motel and entering the Black Room at the Washington Township plant. 3. After entering the Black Room at the Washington Township plant.

Possibility 3 is the easiest to understand. Whiterose entered the room. She and Elliot exchanged words. Whiterose drugged him with gas or something that works on contact applied to the door or the chair or maybe everything in the room. And at some point—before Whiterose shoots herself—Elliot goes under. Maybe Elliot was chloroformed in his seat and then moved to a bed and set up with an IV of whatever cocktail Whiterose uses for this. I imagine the DM-ing going like hypnosis sessions I've seen on TV and in movies, only with intentional leading…

WHITEROSE: Whiterose opens the box and pulls out a pistol. She points it at you. ELLIOT: What are you going to do with that? WHITEROSE: She keeps the gun pointed at you and answers—I have learned to listen when time speaks. Our paths were too precisely linked to this moment for there not to be a reason. This is why. You get to decide. Elliot, what do you say? ELLIOT: Then I'm telling you, don't do this! WHITEROSE: She raises the gun to her temple and fires, shooting herself in the head. She collapses, dead. Elliot, what do you do? ELLIOT: I try the doors. WHITEROSE: You try both doors. They are locked. ELLIOT: I bang on the doors. WHITEROSE: There is no response. No one can hear you. ELLIOT: I don't know what the fuck to do. WHITEROSE: The alarm continues to sound. What do you do? (ROBOT: We need to figure out the code on this door. Try that phone. See if you can get an outside line.) ELLIOT: I pick up the phone. WHITEROSE: You hear a computerized voice on the phone speak in English—zero five zero nine. It repeats in other languages. You notice the title of the book next to the phone. Resurrection. What do you do? (ROBOT: Anything?) ELLIOT: Zero five zero nine. I try the code on the lock. WHITEROSE: The door you came in unlocks. The hallway is empty. You can leave the way you came. But you have a feeling about the book. You go back to the table and flip through it and find an floppy disk in a sleeve labelled "eXit". (ROBOT: Let's go! There's an access tunnel down the hall.) WHITEROSE: You realize that whatever is on the disk must be important. Whiterose said that you get to decide. Elliot, what do you do? ELLIOT: If we leave, the nuclear reactor's gonna melt down… (ROBOT: Which is why we need to get as far fucking away from here as possible.) ELLIOT: If we don't stop this, the meltdown will destroy the whole town. (ROBOT: You wanna top the meltdown? How the fuck are we gonna do that?) ELLIOT: She said she gave me a choice. WHITEROSE: That's right, Elliot. What do you do next? ELLIOT: I insert the disk in the computer. (ROBOT: We don't have time for this shit.) WHITEROSE: The computer takes a few seconds to read the disk and loads up a game called "eXit". In the expected color and resolution, you see an open door above the word "eXit" against a background image of Earth. You realize this isn't just a game. This is an override process for the machine. Elliot, what do you think? ELLIOT: I don't think this is just a game. (ROBOT: This place is gonna blow!) ELLIOT: This is an override process to turn off the machine.

And so on. Note that Mr. Robot's lines are internal to Elliot, he doesn't speak them out loud and Whiterose is not aware of Robot or his words and actions.

The experience may not be as granularly guided as this, and Elliot may not actually be speaking to Whiterose unless she prompts him to, but I figured I'd try to illustrate the process using actual dialogue. It could simply be Whiterose saying to the hooked-up-to-some-IV-drip suggestible Elliot…

Whiterose explains that you get to choose whether to stop the meltdown or let the machine grant everyone their dream life on a dream world. Then she points the gun at her temple and fires, killing herself. You are alone in the room and the alarms continue to sound. The doors are locked, so you try the blue phone. A computerized voice tells you "zero five zero nine" in several languages and repeats. You try it as the code on the door you came in and it works. The hallway outside is clear, but you can't leave if there's a chance you can stop the meltdown. Whiterose said you get to choose what happens, so she must have left you a way to do that. You flip thru RESURRECTION and find a floppy disk labelled "eXit". When you load it into the computer, it boots up a game called "eXit". You realize this is how you choose—if you play the game, you can shut down the machine and stop the meltdown.

Whiterose describes the experience in a general way and Elliot's brain fills in the details, dialogue, action, appearances, unless Whiterose gives him something specific.

Whiterose guides Elliot through game play, and it unfolds as we saw it…

WHITEROSE: The game tells you—The note says "Don't leave me here". Do you leave your friend or stay? ELLIOT: …Stay. WHITEROSE: You type "Stay" and hit return. The computer shuts down. The alarms shut off. The normal lighting returns. It seems like the meltdown has been stopped. The room is quiet… ROBOT: Did it work? WHITEROSE: But after a few seconds, the room is shaken by a tremor. You hear crashing and things falling outside the door. Elliot, what do you do? ELLIOT: I unlock the door and look outside… WHITEROSE: There are fires in the hallway. You can't leave. The first time you played you chose the new world. The second time was too late to shut down the machine. The meltdown has begun. All you can do is wait for the end. ROBOT: It's too late, isn't it? WHITEROSE: You have ten seconds before the plant destruction reaches the black room. When I reach zero, you will be consumed by the heat and fire and die. 10… ELLIOT: I love you. WHITEROSE: 9…8… ROBOT: I love you, too. WHITEROSE: 7…6…5…4 ELLIOT: It's an exciting time in the world. WHITEROSE: 3…2…1…zero. The world has disappeared, consumed by red nothingness. Red is all you see. All you hear is my voice. Now. Think back to when you were alive. Think about the world you would dream of when you were alive. The best possible world, with your best possible life, one that makes you happy, doing things you excel at and want to excel at and enjoy and want to enjoy. All of the people you know and love are there, too, living lives that make them happy, too. Do you remember that dream world? Can you imagine that dream life? Now, hold the dream in your mind, tightly. Imagine your home in it. Imagine a good day in it. Now, in your home, in this best life, wake up from the red nothingness to that good day and live!

And that would be the start of Elliot's day before he gets married on Farth, where it's always 11:16 on May 9.

Man, that was exhausting and I’m not sure I really got that much down. Blerg. Gonna snap this off here. Only a few hours to go before the finale!

By the way—FARTH?

Farth : Earth :: FCorp : ECorp =)

Keep on keepin’ on, Friend~

#MR ROBOT #MRROBOT #crazytalk #theory #parallel #411 #exit #Whiterose #elliott reeder #rambo

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getoutofthisplace · 5 years ago

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Dear Gus,

I turned 38 years old today. I’ll post the detailed account I posted to Facebook of how I spent the day below, but I left out the part about how after talking to Nene, I kept standing out on the patio at Yiayia’s house. I watched you and Mom through the window. You sat in her lap, laughing at whatever she was doing. I’m so happy you and me and Mom all have each other. And that we have everyone else. I’m so happy you are happy.

Dad

North Little Rock, Arkansas. 1.8.2020 - 6.23pm.

PLAY BY PLAY:

I don’t know what time it is when I wake up. The room is still dark. I can just make out enough of the bedsheets to notice that Liz is already gone. She had to be at the hospital by 6:30am for work. I lift my phone off the bedside table. It’s nearly 7am. Gus calls for his mother from his crib, but he doesn’t complain when I open his door, turn off his space heater and his sound machine.

“I want Mama,” he says. His pacifier muffles his words.

“Mama’s at work,” I say, opening the wooden blinds.

“No, she’s not,” he says.

“Where is she?”

“She’s in there,” he says, pointing down the dimly lit hallway.

“Okay,” I say, picking him up. “Do you want some breakfast?”

“I need a fig bar and a banana and a vitamin,” he says. He says it every morning.

He tosses his pacifier into the kitchen sink while I peel him a whole banana, careful not to break it, and put it into the Ziploc bowl with a leftover fig bar. His teeth marks are left from a bite he took yesterday. I add the gummy purple vitamin and hand him the bowl. We walk into the living room and I use the remote to turn the television on.

“I want to watch Dino the Dinosaur,” he says. The show features Dino and his friend Dina, dinosaurs of the triceratops variety, who learn about colors or numbers or shapes in every super-short episode. Neither character talks, but a woman with a soothing voice narrates everything. He loves it. Liz and I can’t stand to watch the show, but it’s better than when he got hooked on Trolls, which has no educational value. Or any redeeming qualities whatsoever.

As I leave the room, Gus erupts into a scream. I know immediately that he has noticed I’ve given him yesterday’s fig bar. He cries and says something unintelligible about it.

“Do you want a new fig bar?”

He says something else unintelligible about it.

“Do you want a blueberry or a raspberry fig bar?” I ask.

He stops crying and says he wants raspberry.

I put the new fig bar in his bowl and take out the fig bar with the missing bite. I start to throw it in my mouth, but remember I haven’t weighed yet. I record my weight every day into a Google spreadsheet I share with my cousin John. We have compared weights for years, but got serious about it in 2018 when we began recording our weights every day in the document, the title of which is “Fat Boys.”

When my grandfather was alive, he must’ve thought his grandsons were all a bunch of lanky, weak kids because he offered $100 to the first of us who could get to 180 pounds. He wanted a grandson that could help him contend with livestock. Zachary earned the money, but now that our grandfather’s gone, we’re all on the other side of 180, trying to get back.

I step onto the scale. It reads 187.8. Down a pound from yesterday. A win. I pop the half-eaten fig bar in my mouth and walk to the back bathroom to take a shower.

I see Gus’s blurry shape through the frosted glass of the shower. I stand on my tiptoes to look at him from over the door.

“I need my milk,” he tells me. We call it milk, but it’s really rice milk. He’s allergic to dairy, so we’ve cycled through all the milk alternatives for the last couple of years. His doctors thought he might also be allergic to soy, so we gave up on soy milk, then we discovered he probably had a tree nut allergy, so we quit almond milk. He wouldn’t drink oat milk, so here we are. For now. Our gastroenterology specialist has asked us to bring in another stool sample for testing. He scolded Liz this week for rescheduling Gus’s scope recently, even though his staff told us to reschedule because of a cold. It was an unnecessary risk, they said. The abnormal results from the lab tests weren’t that big of a deal, the doctor himself said. But when Liz sat in front of him this week, he felt differently. He felt we weren’t taking Gus’s health seriously. He threatened to not reschedule if we were just going to cancel. When she recounted the conversation with me over the phone, I could feel my blood boil. There was a time when I believed in the authority of doctors and could stand to be talked down to within reason, but that time is no longer. Now I need them to recognize the importance of customer service. My instinct was to drive to Children’s Hospital and kick his office door down, but instead I told Liz to write down everything that he told her and the tone in which he said it because as soon as we no longer need him to tell us what is wrong with our boy’s digestive system, I will make sure everyone within earshot understands what an arrogant prick he is. (Stay tuned.)

“Did you poop?” I ask Gus.

“No, I didn’t poop,” he says.

“I think you pooped,” I say, hoisting him onto the changing table. I am late and don’t really have time to take the stool sample now, but I want to get it as quickly as possibly so we can get back the lab results.

I strip his pajamas off him and check his diaper. He wasn’t lying. There is no poop.

“Where are we going today?” Gus asks me.

“I’m going to work and you’re going to school.”

“Oh no, school’s closed today, Daddy.”

I glare at him, but he’s committed to the lie—he doesn’t smirk.

At work, my coworkers have hung a couple of “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” banners in my office, which I share with Derek, though he isn’t in yet. They hand me the birthday sombrero to wear and we stand around the small conference room singing happy birthday. My brother-in-law has sent two breakfast casseroles and a large mixing bowl full of fresh fruit. We eat and catch up. We are a closely knit team, but it feels like we haven’t talked as a group since before Christmas, with everyone coming and going. A child has started at daycare. A spouse has gotten a dog. I express my growing anger toward the doctor. A 9:30 meeting breaks up our reunion and we all go back to work.

Derek and I debate where to go to lunch. I pull out my Excel sheet and begin reading off the names of local restaurants. We discuss a future study in which we spend each week only eating one dish, comparing one restaurant to another. We will find the city’s best ramen, the best pizza, the best cobb salad. But for now, we just need lunch. It’s already after noon. We go to Senor Tequila because it’s closer than anywhere else. We each get the special of the day: Bean burrito, cheese enchilada, Mexican rice for $6. We’re both amazed at how cheap that is. Derek quickly does some math on how much money he would save for the rest of his life if he only ate a $6 lunch. The figure is relatively astronomical. But then he surprises me by buying me lunch for my birthday, which would throw his number off, probably.

This morning, Liz tasked me with deciding what I’d like to do for my birthday dinner. She is unsatisfied when I tell her I don’t know. She tells me we can go somewhere, or she can make me something, or her mother has offered to order take-out at her house. I tell Liz I will decide later and text her before she gets off work at 3pm.

As that hour approaches, I am overwhelmed with the mountain of work I am facing at the office. I need the mental boost that comes with being able to scratch anything off my to-do list. Something easy, something quick. I text Liz that I want to go to her mother’s house and eat what we refer to as Korean tacos—chopped salmon and rice wrapped in seaweed. Accomplishing that simple task and being decisive gives me confidence to also ask her to make me a cherry pie, though I tell her it doesn’t have to be today. Just soon.

When she gets off work, she calls to say she’ll make the pie tonight if I’ll go get Gus from daycare.

In my truck I’m listening to Dani Shapiro read her memoir, HOURGLASS. I’ve mostly read fiction lately and Shapiro has reminded me how much I love memoir done right. So right that I feel like I’ve known her, personally, for a long time. Like we have a history that would warrant me picking up my phone and texting her to say, “I’m finally getting around to reading your book, old friend, and it is beautiful.” I wonder if my mother would like the book. I think she would.

I race across town to get to Gus’s daycare in Hillcrest before 5:30pm, but when I get there, I have time to spare. There are only five minutes left in my book, so I turn my truck’s engine off and watch the other parents wrangle their children into their respective cars while I listen to the very end—“This audiobook has been a production…”

I meet eyes with a mother I don’t recognize coming out of the school, and I realize just how creepy I may look, sitting there outside a daycare in my nondescript pick-up truck, no sense of urgency to get out and retrieve my child.

“Daddy!” Gus says, running into my arms when I finally go in and stand in the doorway where he and his friend Luna are the last two children.

“Does someone at your house have a birthday today?” Ms. Cathy asks Gus. “It’s Daddy’s birthday!” Gus says. And I feel incredibly loved by my son. He doesn’t have to love me, I think, but he does.

On the way home, I explain to Gus how the red lights and the green lights dictate when we stop and when we go. He is fascinated. He applies the rule to all the lights he sees.

“What is that yellow light?” he asks.

“That’s a controversial subject, son.” I say. “Some people think it means slow down, but I’m in the camp that just thinks it means it’s time to commit.”

“Oooohhhh…” he says. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I want to go see diggers,” he says. We are in a construction equipment phase.

“We’ll have to keep an eye out for some on the way to Yiayia & Papou’s.”

“Are we going to Yiayia & Papou’s?”

“Yiayia & Papou, we’re coming for you…” I say. It’s a game we’ve played for probably a year. I say the names of the people whose house we are going to and he will say what it is he wants from them.

“We’re coming for you and your toys and your Paw Patrol,” he responds.

When we get there, he runs into the living room for the toys and the Paw Patrol, which are also toys.

“Happy birthday,” Zill says.

Athena hugs me. Liz kisses me. I can tell she is eager for me to see that she is making my cherry pie.

“I didn’t have time to make Nana’s crust, but look at those cherries,” she says.

They are the red of earthy roses, a color not found from a can of cherry pie filling.

Athena pulls two beers from the refrigerator. “They’re both Birthday Bomb! beers, but one is aged in a whiskey barrel!” she tells me.

Liz and I are on a diet that only allows us to drink once a week and this week has already been spoken for.

“It’s a special occasion,” she says. “You should drink them.”

Athena pulls a frozen mug from the freezer and I pour the stout into the glass. I sit with Zill in the living room. We toast that our country has somehow managed to not initiate World War III yet. Athena brings in a plate of large, chilled shrimp, which grabs Gus’s attention.

“What are those things?” he asks.

“Those are shrimp,” I say. “You love shrimp.”

“I need to have them,” he says.

I hold one by the tail as he eagerly bites into it. He wants to take another bite before he finishes the first. He’s ready to move on to the next shrimp entirely, but I regain his attention and show him the meat that is still in the tail. He devours one shrimp after the other. So much so that I look around to see if anyone else thinks I should stop him. Liz is happy he’s eating protein and not carbs, so I let him continue.

My mother calls me and I step out onto the back patio. She wishes me a happy birthday and we talk about my day. We talk about the extended family getting together Sunday maybe to celebrate everyone who has a birthday in January—me, my sister, my grandmother, my aunt and uncle and oldest niece, Caroline, who came within hours of being a February birthday that night in 2008 when we all waited so long in the waiting room at the hospital in Memphis.

“Stop by so we can give you your birthday gift,” my sister texts me. They live less than a mile from us.

By the time Liz gets Gus bathed and I insist on waiting around to see the Final Jeopardy question, which I initially answered partially correct, but then second-guess myself enough to ultimately miss entirely, our family is tired. I drive Liz and Gus home so she can put him to bed, then I double back.

I look through the window and see Laura and Chris sitting in their living room, which is halfway through a remodel and in a state of disarray. I walk in without knocking. The lights are mostly out, but there is a lamp over the new keyboard my mother got her granddaughters for Christmas this year.

“Where’s Liz?” they ask. They prefer their aunt to their uncle.

“She had to go put Gus down,” I say, noticing the paper taped to two chairs facing the keyboard. On each paper is our names—“Guy” and “Liz”—our assigned seats.

Caroline casually walks out of the hallway onto the makeshift staging area in front of me. She holds a cardboard beard to her face and delivers lines she has written and rehearsed, but that don’t quite steer a clear narrative. Her younger sister emerges from the hallway with a similar prop and a less confident set of lines. They ramp up the drama by throwing their cardboard disguises away quickly and each donning a man’s necktie with the tags still on. They go back into the hallway and return with a gift bag for me. Inside, I find a vintage tie rack on which I will be able to hang the ties they have gotten me.

When things settle down, Cate sits at the keyboard. “I tried to learn ‘Happy Birthday,’ but I couldn’t,” she says to me, before playing the first notes of another simple tune from the songbook in front of her. We all clap when she finishes. I hug both my nieces and their parents.

“Did you ever take piano lessons, Gunkel?” Cate asks me.

“I did, but not for very long,” I say. “I could never coordinate my left hand while I was also using my right.”

Like I always do when I am in front of piano keys, I play the recognizable right hand to the melody of Beethoven’s Fur Elise.

“Can you teach me how to read those notes?” I ask Cate, nodding toward her songbook.

She shows me which notes correspond and together we try to play something. I enjoy the time with her, and I enjoy reading the music, even if it’s in such a simplistic form.

Again, I thank them for my gifts, then say goodbye. As I back out of their driveway, I notice a text from the woman who was married to my father when he died. They were married for nearly two decades. She has already wished me a happy birthday and so before I open it, I think hard about what information she might have to give me, but come up with nothing.

“Abbey passed tonight,” her text reads.

My father’s dog. A Jack Russell terrier he got when I lived with them. She was nuts, but also cute and loyal and absolutely fearless. Every time Dad introduced her to someone, he would say, “She’d fight a bear,” and he would tell of the time she came wandering home after fighting a wild animal, her insides dragging behind her.

Now, when I think of Abbey, I think of my father in his hospital bed at home in White County, depressed and ready to die, and in the corner, guarding the window, there is Abbey, standing guard for him, happy to wait as long as she needs to. I will always love her for the happiness she gave him.

When I get home, the lights are out. Liz and Gus are asleep. Suki and I walk to the backyard and I throw the tennis ball for her over and over until she no longer brings it back. I wash my hands and see our family cookbook on the counter. It lies open to the page listing my Nana’s pie crust recipe. I imagine Liz pulling the cookbook out this afternoon. And I feel incredibly loved by my wife. She doesn’t have to love me, but she does.

This is my wonderful life at 38 years old: cherry pies, tie racks, and memories of my father and his dog.

#happy birthday #gus choate #family #38 #liz choate

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romnff-blog · 6 years ago

Text

suncity

warnings: kinda angsty (with a bit of fluff), tw for anyone who’s triggered by talk of drowning, a couple of swear words &&&& I think that’s it.

pairings: bucky x reader

a/n: the title of this has almost nothing to do w the story unless you wanna be deep about it and whatever I just couldn’t think of a name for it and this was the song I listened to while writing so djdjsj

“You have got to be kidding me!” You complained, somewhat to yourself but loud enough for anyone at a five mile radius to hear you as you attempted to sort out the equipment Stark had set you up with earlier that morning as the enemies continued their attack on you. You’d thrown a few kicks and punches with your able hand and feet as you tried figuring out how to work this hell of a device with the other.

“What is it this time?” Urged an annoyed Bucky through the tiny ear piece, “what’s got your panties in such a twist?” He mumbled in complete annoyance, sounds of throats being slashed and heads being banged into one another echoing through the coms in the background.

“Shut it, Manchurian candidate,” remembering Tony’s nickname for the old guy that made you chuckle, you retorted, “don’t you have some ass to be kicking?”

“Don’t you have some nails to be polishing?” He shot back. That little shit. It’s as if you could literally hear the smirk forming on his face as he knew exactly what it took to set you off. With a huff, you stormed off to the end of the deserted island, holding your weapons in very close proximity as you continue to keep a close eye for any enemy attack.

You could hear the Captain and Nat scoff and exchange a few words before hearing Steve’s demanding voice, “stop arguing, you two, keep an eye out. We may tolerate your annoyance but these guys won’t. They’ll have your heads chopped off within the blink of an eye, Ill assure you of that.” All was silent for a moment as the team had split up, each taking their own personal rage out on the enemy before Natasha’s smug voice shot up with a, “cap’s right, it’s like you guys are like, I don’t know, in love or something. I’ve only ever seen couples fight the way you two do—“ her words were cut off with loud, annoyed groans from both you and Barnes, emitting a low chuckle from her. Asshat.

Here’s the thing with you and Bucky. How does one put this? Well, you didn’t really get along. Like, at all. When you first met, there was an instant click between you two. Everyone had noticed from the beginning. You weren’t ever even really sure what it was but you just seemed to get along so well and it made you more than happy seeing as how it took you almost weeks –with some, even months– to befriend half of the people on the team, so everything just seemed so easy with him. Next thing you knew, you were doing everything together. Almost like best friends, you could say.

Almost.

You weren’t really sure what happened or what it was that you did to him but he just -all of a sudden-stopped talking to you. You questioned the action, even tried confronting him about it a couple of times but only ever got really short, angry and sassy remarks. It broke you heart. To think that the one person you found easiest to open up to, the person you looked forward to waking up in the morning just to see, the one you’d always find rummaging around in the kitchen at 3am knowing damn well you’d be up, unable to sleep, wanting someone to talk to. Knowing that one person who made you happiest all of a sudden just..hated you? And for no reason, you thought.

It’s made you think a lot. What could it have possibly been that you’d done to upset him so much? He’s never been one to hold a grudge, I mean, come on. The guy fell off a freight train, almost died, (not before being “brought back to life” by a couple of evil men) been experimented on and used as a killing machine. If he really was one to hold a grudge, it would most definitely not be towards you. So what was it?

It took some time but slowly you started pulling away as well. Why was it fair for him to treat you this way, yet you’d still come running into his arms the second he’s in need? Fuck that. From that day onward it was like a competition between the two. Always arguing, calling each other names, refusing to work together. The team had most definitely taken a notice on this as well. Always having to deal with the endless bickering between the two.

Little had y/n known, Bucky most definitely did not hate her. Probably the exact opposite. He didn’t know he’d ever feel this..feeling ever again. Especially not after ‘dying.’ He didn’t think he was worthy of such a thing after what he’s done for decades. Steve still has to remind him everyday that that wasn’t him, that he’s innocent and that he’s had no choice. It’s like Steve had put some spell on y/n because soon after she had befriended bucky, that’s all she would tell him. Steve teased his dearest friend about his newly found friend crush on y/n. Bucky loves steve, he really does, but there are times that all he wants to do is crane kick him in the neck.

Ever since then, that’s all Bucky could think about. Did he actually like you? Could there have been a hint of truth in what Steve had said? No, it couldn’t be. You would hate him forever and never talk to him again. Maybe even laugh in his face before storming off and out of his life forever. It’s odd because after all the man has literally gone through years of brainwash, physical abuse, almost dying (if not everyday then every other day) and having murdered innocent people with his own bare hands. A little rejection shouldn’t be a worry. It shouldn’t. But it is. Or, was, you could say. There is no way you’d ever talk to him (well, in a friendly manner, at least) again. Not after how he has treated you all these years. That’s why he’s been so cold with you. But you could never know that. No, he would rather die (trust me, he knows exactly what he’s talking about and yes, he would much rather die, again.)

Looking around herself, y/n took a look at the pile of bodies stacked up on-top of one another, taking in an exhausted breath. It’s been hours since you arrived on this little island and hours since you’ve seen the rest of the team. The mission you were sent on consisted of you, Bucky, Natasha and Steve. Steve and Natasha were off somewhere in the forest where some of the hydra agents hid, the piezoelectric sensor -a device that uses the piezoelectric effect,- that nat had tony set up earlier during one of his machine test-outs had set itself off at their presence, measuring not only the change in pressure, acceleration, temperature, strain, or force and converting them to an electrical charge. That had those agents off their feet in no time (literally.)

You and Bucky had been set up to work together, but due to your, as Steve would say, ‘pointless, ongoing and sadly never ending bickering,’ you were unable to do so as Steve worried the two would be the ones to kill each other before any hydra agent could. Having had your ear piece on for quite some time your ear started to get a bit irritated, so you did as anyone would with an irritating ear piece and went to remove it. But upon doing so, you hear a strange noise. Hesitant, you perk an ear to listen closely, com hanging loosely on your chest. The noise, it’s almost like a muffled scream. But where’s it coming from?

With wide eyes you reach for the com and, surely enough, said noise is coming from the other end of the piece. The muffled screamed..is that..? Oh no.

“You vant him,” you hear a thick German accent speak softly but demandingly, allowing you to hear the screams of terror, “come get him!” And with that you hear a loud splash and your heart stops.

“BUCKY,” you scream before running off into the secluded area. You didn’t even know where your feet were taking you anymore as you weeped at the thought of having lost him. A stream of tears descended your face like a broken necklace of pearls, clutching and beating at your chest as you sobbed violently.

After trudging in the sand for what seemed like hours -in reality having only been no more than twenty minutes- and sobbing like a madman, something had caught your eyesight, turning your full attention towards the calm waves you noticed a shiny, what seemed to be metal object waving in the water. Had your eyes been deceiving you? Your doubts were answered by another wave and this time you knew that your eyes had not been playing any sort of tricks on you.

In shock and utter disbelief, you gasped, running towards the water and jumping in, not at all caring about getting wet. You swam and swam until it felt like the water was burning your lungs. Had only you learned how to swim, this would have been a piece of cake. Keeping your eyes wide open, even through the salty ocean water, you had caught sight of him. It’s like someone had lit a fire because your heart was starting to get all warm and fuzzy again. Or was that just the water slowly making its way into your body, slowly killing you due to your lack of swimming skills, Lord knows.

Was it the salt from the water or the fact that you had been crying for so long that your eyes felt like they were burning, you would never know.

Finally getting a hold of the unconscious metal-armed man you once called friend it’s as if all that worry and doubt you had about his safety was all gone. Well, almost. It would really help a lot if he wasn’t unconscious right now. Using all of the strength you didn’t even know you were capable of handling, you fumbled around your belt to attach yourself to the man with the help of a hook and rope you always carried around the belt of your suit in case of emergency. The weight of his bionic arm and the density of the water making it all even tougher to get the job done and it worried you if whether or not you could make it out in time and alive. The thought of that weighed down on you even more, almost triggering an anxiety attack.

It took everything in you not to start panicking in this situation right now and breathing in wasn’t necessarily an option right now. The only possible way of making it out alive, you thought, was abandoning Bucky and swimming to your own safety and there was no way in hell you were gonna let either of those happen. It’s either you both live or you both die. Something in y/n had sparked motivation, thinking about bucky more than herself, pushing herself to the limit and carrying all of bucky on her back and swimming as much as she possibly could to the top. Each move seemed to make the surface look so much further away than it actually was, and it should have made you feel like giving up like it would in most situations but it only motivated you to continue swimming and even harder and faster than the last.

After what seemed like hours of terror and anxiety, both yourself and Bucky had reached the surface. With heavy breaths you threw yourself to the left side of bucky, looking over at him and smiling tiredly, letting out the biggest breath of relief. It seems as though the evil man had duck taped bucky’s mouth. In panic, you quickly removed the tape and, without a second thought, began performing cpr. Continuing for what seemed like forever, it seemed to be of no use. His pulse was now going (as it wasn’t before) so that was a relief but he was still unconscious and that was enough to set you off on another sob-fit. Burying your face in his chest, you began to weep.

It’s as if the heavens were answering your every prayer because in came Steve and Natasha rushing in on the scene.

“What happened, we heard your screams and then both your coms went off, is everything alri—oh my god..” Steve came running before he could even attempt to finish his sentence as he took notice of the mans unconscious state. “Romanoff, call up Stark. Tell him to get the jet and hurry. We’re going back early.” He ordered, earning a quick, “On it.”

Less than twenty minutes later and the jet was here. Bucky’s body was being carried in the back. You took the seat right next to him, praying everything was alright.

You had made it to the hospital as you prayed he was in good hands you couldn’t help but think back to all the good times with him. Sure, a lot of it was mostly just the usual arguments and nonessential bickering but you still cherished it. No matter how much he may have hated you, he’s still the man you fell in love with the first day you met. You hated having to admit it but it’s true. You were head over heels in love with this man (who, let’s not forget, hates your guts!) and if you were having doubts about it before, today most definitely clarified those doubts.

You didn’t realize you were lost in thought until the nurse was waving a hand in your face. Shaking yourself out of the trans, you looked up at the woman.

“Are you y/n?”

“Yes? Who’s asking?”

“The patent is awake. James barnes, says he wants to see you.” Said the woman before turning on her heel, leading me to the room.

‘He wants to see me?’ You thought ‘I don’t know whether I should be scared or happy. Is this a good thing? Should I be excited? I’m thinking too much.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at the man in the hospital bed eyeing you wearily with a tired smile. “Come ‘ere.” He motions for you to sit beside him. So you do.

“Hi.” You whisper shyly, ghosting your fingers along where the scars appeared -between the shoulder and metal meet- hesitantly.

“Hi,” He replies, smiling tiredly before replacing it with a tiny frown “you saved me.”

Confused, you reply, “yeah, I did. What’s wrong?”

“Why?”

Why? What does he mean why?

“Why? Why not? Did you think I was gonna let you drown to death? Is that what you were expecting or me?”

“No, no,” He replies defensively, “it’s just,” He sighs before mumbling “I don’t deserve to be here, especially after how I treated you and after all I’ve done all these years. I don’t deserve to live, you should have just left me to die.”

That was all it took to set you off.

“Are you kidding me buck? Of course you deserve to live! You have never done anything to me or to anyone else to make yourself think you aren’t worthy of walking the face of this earth like everyone else. What you “did” all those years? That wasn’t you! You had no control of yourself. They took advantage of you in a vulnerable state and made you do some very unspeakable things. But it wasn’t you. You have zero reason to believe that you aren’t worthy because you are! You’re the most amazing person I have ever met in my entire life! When we stopped talking and you turned away from me and our friendship I was beyond hurt, wanna know why? Because I care about you buck! so so much. Everyone on the team does. You are loved, Bucky. You’re wanted and you’re so worth it.”

Bucky blinked a couple of times, taking in the sudden rant you just went on as he thought. You really did care about him, huh. If it weren’t for the funny tasting medicine they gave him he would probably know what to say, instead going for,

“Would you totally hate me if I kissed you right now?”

And that was it. This was bucky’s shot. No more fear of rejection. No regrets. It was chilling but thrilling and he definitely was not expecting for you to say what you were about to.

“No.”

It was in a hushed tone. So quiet you might have missed it if you had not been listening closely but lucky enough for bucky, the silence filling the hospital room made it so that whatever hushed whisper either one of them had spoken to the other could be heard loud and clear to them but no one else.

So what was he waiting for? He did as he promised and leaned -well, not in because he’s the one in the bed and he’s actually looking up at her so- up to capture your lips in his and -as cliche as it is, because what’s a first kiss without a cliche, overused reference?- it’s like Independence Day came early because you’d never think you’d feel this many sparks in your entire life (see, what’d I tell you about the cliche, you were warned, folks.)

You put your everything into this kiss, reminding yourself to be as gentle as possible, almost as if he were brittle glass you were afraid you’d break if you kissed any harder. The kiss was everything. Passionate, slow and tender but reassuring and it was not rushed but quick enough to assure there would be more in the future.

Breaking the kiss, you’d rest your forehead against bucky’s, enjoying each others presence. Neither of you spoke, but you were definitely thinking the same thing. This was going to be the start of something new -and you liked the thought of that- but for now you both really need the rest, so best assured you do.

a/n: hi it’s 11pm and my head hurts like a lot lol so I’m gonna sleep but hey! my very first ever one shot! and it’s pretty long, I’d say? idk that’s probably just a matter of opinion (idk what you would consider long) but. hopefully there’s more in the future, just hope you enjoyed this one. please show this some love, ur girl would really love that. pls feedback is very very much appreciated! also literally not kidding I haven’t proofread this so let’s just pray there are very minimal, tolerable mistakes ok im djdjsj ok bye now ilysm hope you’re having the greatest day/night

hugs, k 💌

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #you x bucky #reader x bucky #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier #winter soldier x you #black widow #natasha romanoff #captain america #steve rogers #iron man #tony stark #marvel #mcu #winter soldier x reader #avengers #kwrites

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