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foreverinadais · 2 years

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ex: m.s

summary: you see your ex in the grocery store.

warnings: angst (with a sad ending) only slight fluff, awkwardness

pairings: predominantly marc x reader but jake and steven are mentioned

word count: 2.7k :)

ex! mk series: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

It was Marc.

You could tell immediately by the slight quip in his eyebrow and the downturn of his mouth. He hated shopping, especially for groceries. You wondered how he drew the short straw. Perhaps the other two had forced him because they’d done it enough. Or maybe he liked it now.

The thought of not quite knowing who he was anymore made your stomach churn in a way it hadn’t for months. He wasn’t your Marc anymore. The one who also seemed stoic. The one who always cracked unexpected jokes. The one who you shared every moment with. The one who hated grocery shopping.

You suddenly felt overwhelmed. Because there he was. So close yet so far.

You certainly hadn’t expected this when you left your flat this morning. It had been 4 months. 4 months of failed dates, 4 months of crappy rom coms, 4 months of Spotify’s best ‘break-up mixes’. You had only just felt the strength to say you were moving on, though how can anyone really move on from the loves of their life?

You hadn’t heard from him for those months. Steven had called you once at 2 am but no sooner than he had, you got a ‘sorry, accident’ message. You swore you’d seen Jake’s cab loitering in the midst of a busy street once but convinced yourself it was your brain playing tricks on you.

Because they had moved on, too. You’d heard about Steven’s big promotion at work. You almost sent him a congratulations message, overcome with forgotten happiness at your boyfr- ex- boyfriend’s success but stopped yourself. He isn’t yours to congratulate anymore.

Marc was the only one who was radio silent. You didn’t know anything about him now. But he was wearing the same jacket. The one you once stole off his back and wore all night on a memorable but blurry night in a London pub. Perhaps he wasn’t much different. The thought scared you even more.

Maybe he didn’t need to move on because he didn’t need you. Not then, not now.

You jumped when your mind came back to the present and those eyes were boring into yours. You had almost forgotten that he could also see you, that you weren’t looking through binoculars to peek into his life, that he was here, now.

He wasn’t smiling. That didn’t surprise you. It was rare he’d smile in public, let alone doing something he hated. And though it wasn’t rare that he’d show you his smile, after everything, he certainly wouldn’t now.

Should you say hi? Ask how he is? How they all are?

You were stuck. Stuck staring at your past who you once thought was your future.

How can you condense that feeling into words? You couldn’t. You were left with actions as you offered a small smile, going as far as a wave. Marc’s tough demeanour didn’t falter as he eventually gave a single nod of acknowledgment. Your stomach flipped, heart beating undoubtedly faster.

Though it had felt like an eternity had passed, it had really been less than a minute. There was a bustle of people around you, surrounding the bubble you’d created in your mind, and time was moving on, just like it had been for all these months.

“Excuse me,” You apologised to the lady who was trying to move by you, stepping into the space in front of you to allow her access in the aisle. You quickly realised you were closer to Marc, so close it almost made you jump when you looked back up to see him still stood there, zoned out, no doubt in deep conversation with his alters and you other ex’s. You could imagine the commotion; Steven panicking, Jake acting nonchalant. But Marc… Marc was near impossible to read, always had been.

You’d like to think you had mastered it. But now, staring at him, it was as if he was a stranger. A stranger with memories.

“Hey.” The voice surprised you. Yes, this was the first time hearing it after radio silence but… you certainly didn’t anticipate him speaking first, if at all. You cleared your throat, once, twice, fearful words would fail.

But they didn’t as you got out a small, “hi.” A small silence followed, both trying to look for words to say, anything that would be appropriate in a situation like this. “So, do you come here often?” You hadn’t meant to sound quite so awkward, and you quickly tried to add something to make it seem less so. “I mean like you, I figured Steven would do the food shopping more. I mean, no offence or anything.”

Marc said nothing as you rambled, just rose an eyebrow like he always did when slightly bemused. “Was my turn. Your right, though, this isn’t my usual scene.”

“Yeah, I remember.” The simple phrase felt heavy, a reminder of the love you once had together. And just like that, it all came flooding back; every touch, every kiss, every movie you’d watched together or walk you’d been on. But so did every argument, every cold shoulder, every reason you’d broken up in the first place.

You remembered all too well the sound of the door slamming, the heat of the room after an argument, the flat feeling huge whilst you felt tiny, alone. But you also remembered the feeling of his soft kisses up your arm, the glide of his huge hands along your skin, the husky tone of his voice whispering apologies as your back hit the mattress.

Your chest suddenly felt heavy. As if your heart had remembered it’s purpose, had woken up again.

Marc coughed slightly as if to break you from your train of thought. You startled, rubbing the spot on the side of your face to regain a sense of reality. “Anyway…” You began, looking everywhere but at him, “How’s everything?” He knew what you meant by that. How were the others who had a piece of you?

Marc hesitated. You knew why, could almost see the inner conversation they were surely having. You could only imagine what Steven was saying, the worry and desperation in his voice. Or Jake. You wondered if he was still angry. And not just at you.

Marc seemed to break away, remerging into the conversation with a simple, “Good.” When he realised you expected more, he continued, “Steven, he got promoted. Hasn’t stopped talking about it.” You wondered if the last sentence was directed to his alter, and you couldn’t help but smile.

That’s incredible, I knew he would, I’m so proud of him, is what you wanted to say, but you settled with, “That’s great news.” Marc nodded, and you knew he felt the same. “And Jake?” Another moment of silence followed, shorter this time, as he replied,

“He’s alive. Picked up some shifts in a bar now he has more time off.” They felt so far from you. The growing absence you felt in your chest as you realised they had been living their lives just as you had, without each other.

“That sounds right up his alley,” You cringed at your words. You felt like an acquaintance or a colleague, like you should ask about the weather or ask what aisle the shampoo was down.

“Yeah.” You looked at him. Not just a glance, but a real look. At his curls. At the scar just above his eyebrow. At his lips.

“And you?” And he looked back. Shrugged slightly after a moment of hesitation, as if he had not anticipated you asking about him. As if he never expected to hear those words again.

“I’m surviving.” You waited a minute. But he said nothing more.

Your chest suddenly felt heavy. As if your heart had remembered it’s purpose, had woken up again.

“That sounds right up his alley,” You cringed at your words. You felt like an acquaintance or a colleague, like you should ask about the weather or ask what aisle the shampoo was down.

“Yeah.” You looked at him. Not just a glance, but a real look. At his curls. At the scar just above his eyebrow. At his lips.

“And you?” And he looked back. Shrugged slightly after a moment of hesitation, as if he had not anticipated you asking about him. As if he never expected to hear those words again.

“I’m surviving.” You waited a minute. But he said nothing more. You muttered a small ‘good’, though you didn’t mean it. You almost wanted something worse. Something that showed he was struggling as much as you were. “How’s everything for you?”

Sometimes you wake up in cold sweats and reach out for them. Sometimes, when you’ve had a bit too much to drink, your thumb hovers over their contact purely by muscle memory. Sometimes, when your feeling particularly desperate, you call out to Konshu, as if he could turn back the time to when you were happy, to when were with them and the other side of your bed wasn’t empty and cold.

“ ‘m surviving, too.” He nodded as if he believed you and you were worried he did.

The silence that followed felt like an eternity. You wanted to leave but you knew that if you did, you might never see him again. What if this moment was your forever? Stuck in aisle 5, avoiding eye contact, rocking slightly on your feet? The thought terrified you. To avoid the thoughts, and the next minute that approached, you began to ask another meaningless question. Marc obviously had the same idea, both of you saying a word, then retracting it.

“You go,” You said, heart skipping a beat.

“No, no, you first.”

“It’s fine-”

“Hey, I insist.” His tone always made your stomach flutter.

“Was nothing important, just… wondered what you were buying.” You wondered if he wanted it to be something more by the way his face slightly dropped.

“Right. Steven wanted to start baking, so had to get some of that shit. And we’re out of… well, everything, so had to get that too.” You smiled, eyebrows rising as you repeated,

“Baking?”

“God don’t ask. He’s been tryin’ new stuff lately. I bet he’ll drop this by next week and move onto the next thing.” You chuckled, and so did he.

“At least you get something out of his hobby.”

“Yeah, probably homeless. You remember when he insisted on making banana bread and nearly burnt the whole fuckin’ flat down?”

“How could I ever forget?” The laugh you shared felt familiar, but distant, like a dream. You relished in it for a moment, a happiness you didn’t expect to ever feel again. When it died down, you were left with a new, comfortable silence, one that lingered as you met eyes once again. “So, what were you going to say?”

Marc shrugged, “Was gonna ask how the project was goin’.” Your heart warmed. You remembered, you wanted to say, you remembered what I was working on. You felt your lips pull into a natural smile, felt your eyes widen slightly.

“Oh! Yeah, it’s good, nearly done now, just adding the finishing touches. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever be done with it, but looks like there’s an end in sight now which is, yeah, a relief.” You rambled, distracting from the soft look on his face by taking an interest in the label of a jar.

“Well, you’ve worked so hard on it, can’t imagine it’ll be anythin’ less than perfect when you’re done.”

“Thank you, Marc.” His name. You hadn’t said it aloud, you realised, in a long time. It felt so natural coming from your lips, as if the word was made just for you. By the look on Marc’s face, he was just as struck by this revelation.

It belongs to you, he wanted to say, I belong to you.

But he didn’t. No, he couldn’t. Not anymore. Not ever again.

He needed to leave. “Anyway… I should really get going,” he started, and your face fell slightly. His heart throbbed.

“Right! Yeah, no, so should I. It was-” what do you even say? “It was nice seeing you.”

“Back at you.” You felt a sting at the sudden shift in tone, the blatant end to the conversation, a stop to whatever memories were re-emerging.

Will I see you again? You have my number, you could call me, you know. Could get some coffee? Oat milk, of course. I miss you. I miss all of you. I don’t wanna be like this. I hate not knowing you. I hate being a stranger to you. Can we see each other again? Please?

Is what you wanted, needed, to say. But instead, you settled on, “Goodbye, Marc.”

Don’t leave. I’m sorry about what happened, we all are- fuck what if this is it? Can’t lose you, not again. Please.

“Goodbye.”

And then, you were turning. Trying to recount the next item on your list. Trying to forget them all over again. Marc watched, ignoring what his alters were saying. Right, flour, sugar…

You couldn’t help but turn back before you reached the till. His features had returned to their usual state, the usual stance that showed you the Marc the world got too see. And now, you were them. You were the stranger, watching him like the next person would, remembering every moment, the good and the bad, simultaneously, eternally.

He must have felt your gaze again, for he turned. You smiled. He smiled back. You stayed. Endorsed in each other for what felt like the last time. Analysing every crevice of his face with your eyes, and he seemed to be doing the same back.

And then you were pulled back into reality by the person at the till handing you your receipt. You jolted, thanking them quickly, and gathering your bags.

Marc was still watching as you made your way to the door. You stole a final glance, trying to remember everything surrounding you; the sound of the bell, the click of the till, aisle 5, the lady trying to bribe her kid with sweets to get them to stop crying. You wanted to remember it all just in case this was it. This was all you had left of him. This moment.

A last smile. It felt finite.

You took a mental picture of his face before you turned away, heart as heavy as the bags in your hand.

And then you were leaving.

so i got a request agessss ago for a break-up fic with marc which ends in angst and, whilst i haven’t written it yet still (super sorry) , maybe that could be a little prequel to this? we’ll see :)

#marc spector #marc spector fanfic #marc spector x reader #marc spector fluff #marc spector angst #steven grant x reader #steven grant fanfiction #Steven Grant #jake lockley #jake lockley fanfiction #jake lockely x reader #moon knight angst #steven grant angst #jake lockley angst

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adiduck · 1 year

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Since it's one of my favorite scenes in TGM, maybe the '86 boys finding the most beautiful plane ever built (i.e. the F-14 for those who don't know what I mean) and figuring out who gets to pilot and who has to backseat? Or '86 Ice and Mav after seeing the Admiral in his hospital bed? Or Ice having a chat with Rooster?

Gonna go with the first one, because I'm actually really pleased with the banter LOL

“Ice,” Mav says, hunched over as he looks through the binoculars. He’s gone very, very still.

“If it isn’t good news, don’t tell me,” Ice says.

“It’s… well, it’s news,” Mav says, and hands him the binoculars. “Last spot on the right.

Ice takes the binoculars and looks through them.

He stares.

“Well,” he says finally. “She may not fly.”

“That’s true,” Mav agrees.

“And we won’t outrun any of the bogeys in the air.”

“Also true.”

Ice falls silent again, staring. “...Rock-paper-scissors for the pilot seat?”

“You’re on,” Mav says.

“I can’t believe you cheated,” Mav hisses, as they slide down the last of the bank.

“I did not,” Ice lies. “How would someone cheat at rock-paper-scissors?”

“You hesitated!”

“You want a redo? I’m sure we could stop someone to referee,” Ice says. They start out into the open, looking around at all the people milling about like so many chickens with their heads cut off. “But if not, I think we should run.”

“Argh!” Mav says eloquently.

They run.

In front of them, an F-14 Tomcat looms large, big and beautiful and just for them.

By some miracle, nobody stops them as they dash across the runway towards her.

“Do you often cheat at rock-paper-scissors,” Mav asks, as Ice walks up to the generator, hoping against hope has he activates the machine--

It lights up.

“Fuck, yes,” Ice says.

“Glad you’re willing to admit it,” Mav says, because he’s a jackass. Ice rolls his eyes.

“No time to preflight,” he says, and rounds to march towards the ladder. “Unhook us will you?”

“No, I’m going to just stand here and wait for us to be caught,” Mav mutters.

Ice ignores him, jumping into the cockpit and hauling his helmet back on, taking in the familiar, if aged-looking, dashboard.

“Hi there, baby,” he says, and feels the warm weight of familiarity settle into his bones. He runs his fingers over the dashboard for a moment. “We’re gonna treat you right. You up for a last flight?” He flips the Master on, fingers flying through the start engine sequence. “Come on, sweetheart, you show these pretenders how it’s done--”

There’s a thrum, and the first engine turns over.

Down on the ground, Mav whoops.

Ice doesn’t bother to suppress his grin, cheeks hurting with it. “That’s what I’m fucking talking about,” he says, and lets reflex kick in, coaxing the second engine to life as Mav climbs in behind him.

“Fuck, it’s been a bit since I sat in this seat,” Mav complains through the radio, as Ice secures the canopy.

“Don’t worry, I’m not expecting you to be much help,” Ice assures him, and throttles forward and out of the hangar bay.

“Fuck you, too.”

Ice’s grin widens. “Don’t proposition me in front of our date, Mav, it’s bad form.”

“Oh, I’m sorry baby, you know you’re the only girl for us,” Mav says, instantly, sounding genuinely apologetic.

Ice shakes his head, taxiing them out and taking in the taxiway in front of them, the completely cratered runway. He feels the smile fall off his face slightly. “Hm.”

“...Taxiway it is, I guess,” Mav muses.

“Short runway takeoff,” Ice agrees. “You a praying man, Mav?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither,” Ice says, and starts the takeoff sequence. “Let’s go.”

#adi is a writer #ask game #icemav #they're taking a lovely lady on a date ;)#operation groundhog au #wip snippet

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year

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Resolved

Part 2 of Accidents Happen

Summary: Natasha hated this. She wanted to go back to the before the fight. But when a mission takes her out of the compound her mind is all over the place and that cost her.

Warnings: kidnapping, torture, dissocation, injuries, gun shot wounds, mission gone wrong, guilt

Word count: 5.1k

“Romanoff, are you listening to me?” Natasha heard her girlfriend through the com she was wearing.

“Yes, Hill,” Truth be told, she was not listening to anything she was saying. Her mind was not on the current mission. She and Maria were tasked with following the White Moths, a growing drug trafficking group located on the southern border of Russia. But the drugs they were producing were sending high school students into comas. Fury wanted to observe where they were getting their supply and if they could steal some of the drugs so Helen could develop a cure.

It was an important mission. Parents were worried sick wondering if their children were going to wake up. Her heart broke for those families but her mind was all over the place. “Do I need to pull you?” Maria asked.

“No, I’m fine,” she needed a distraction and this mission provided her a way out of the compound. She hated walking on eggshells around you because she didn’t know how to act. Natasha sighed, resting her chin on top of her knee as she watched through her binoculars. She wanted to go back to movie nights, early morning training, and making a mess in the kitchen. She made a mistake, a horrible mistake, and she just wanted her sister back.

The pinch on her neck startled her out of her thoughts. She barely registered the silhouette of the person standing in front of her or Maria’s voice. Black spots covered her eyes and her world went black.

Her vision was blurry when she came to. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the low light than the panic set in. Her arms were chained above her head and her legs were attached to the wall. The black tactical suit she was wearing was pulled down to her hips. The white bra was the only thing that covered her chest. She tested the strength of the chains but they didn’t move. She tried to keep the panic rising through her. She could get out of this.

The door opened and a man walked in, wearing a red suit and black gloves. Two other men followed him in. Natasha didn’t like the way he smiled at her. “Hello beautiful,” his English accent took her by surprise. “How are you?” Natasha didn’t answer. “I like a challenge,” he grabbed a knife from one of the other men in the room. “A beautiful, strong challenge,” he put the knife in front of her and she stared at her reflection. “What do you want with us, little Widow? You answer that and we’ll let you go.” Natasha glared at him. He sighed. “Very well,” she felt the burn as he dragged the tip of the knife down her stomach. She didn’t make noise. She was a Black Widow, an Avenger, and one of the best students the Red Room produced. The pain was second nature to her. She didn’t realize it was happening. Her vision went blurry and the room was filled with white noise. She was here but wasn’t. It was how she was going to survive this - a waiting game, a test of will. A game she was going to win.

“Steve should add kneading dough to our arm workout,” Yelena said, whipping her forehead with her forearm. A trail of flour was left on her skin.

“You got something right here,” Sam licked a towel and tried to wipe the flour off her face but Yelena pushed him away. You laughed, shaking your head at her. You didn’t miss the smile on her face at the sound. It was a weird dance you were doing with them. You haven't said ‘I forgive you’ to them even though a part of you wanted to so everything could go back to normal. Then there was the much louder part that was telling you to keep your forgiveness quiet, to let it sink in how much it hurt, that was the part that was winning.

“Alright, try to throw it,” Wanda said, looking over your shoulder. You set the rolling pin down. Wanda convinced you, Vision, Sam, and Yelena to make homemade pizza. It didn’t take much convincing as it seemed Wanda could ask anything from the group and they would say yes. You floured your hands and picked up the dough, allowing gravity to stretch it out. When you determined it was stretched out enough, you closed your right hand into a fist and rested the dough on top of your hand. You weren’t feeling very confident as you threw the dough into the air and caught it. “Great job!” Wanda praised, clapping her hands. You did it a few more times before placing the dough back onto the counter.

“That was well done,” Vision said. You smiled at the android when hurried footsteps entered the kitchen.

“We are having an emergency meeting,” the active Avengers looked at each other and washed their hands before they left for the conference room. You sighed, placing your hands on your hips as you looked at the mess in the kitchen. “Leave it,” Steve said as you began to clean up. “We need you in this meeting.”

“I’m not an Avenger,” you said, wetting a towel to start cleaning the counter.

“Y/n,” you looked at Steve, he was frowning. “It’s Natasha,” your stomach dropped. “She’s been kidnapped.”

‘Natasha,’ she opened her eyes at the sound of her name. She was outside, staring at the play set in the backyard at the house in Ohio. She frowned, looking at the house behind her. Alexei and Melina were on the porch. The Russian super soldier was cooking on the grill while Melina was reading a book. The older Widow looked at her and waved, she slowly waved back. ‘Natasha,’ her name was called again. She saw you and Yelena sitting on a picnic blanket. You were playing your guitar and Yelena was coloring. ‘Why are you just standing there?’

‘I don’t know,’ she admitted, sitting down next to you. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Coloring,’ the blonde held up her picture. There were 5 people and a dog drawn on the piece of paper. It was poorly drawn but Natasha could make out her blue hair. ‘It’s our family! This is Mommy and daddy,’ she pointed to the two taller people. ‘Then me, you, Y/n, and our dog, Fanny.’ A dog? When did they get a dog?

‘It looks great, malen'koye solnyshko (little sun),’ you said. Yelena smiled at the praise. Natasha didn’t miss the concern on your face.

‘Girls, dinner is ready,’ Yelena stood up and ran over to the porch with the drawing in her hand. She showed Melina, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Melina smiled as she looked at the picture.

‘Are you okay, Natalia?’ You asked, standing up and swinging the guitar on your back. She looked up at you.

‘What year is it?’

‘1997,’ you answered, tilting your head to the side. ‘Did you hit your head or something?’ Natasha shook her head.

‘No, just tired,’ she picked up the markers and leftover paper that Yelena didn’t bother to clean up and she stood up.

‘I was thinking,” you said as you both walked back to the house. ‘Melina and Alexei got that new horror movie. We could watch it once Yelena goes to bed.’

‘Yeah, that’s-’ Her words died on her lips and she dropped the art supplies onto the grass. You didn’t realize she stopped whatever you were saying wasn’t reaching her. The world around her began to blur. A gasp left her mouth, and she grabbed onto her stomach and fell to her knees. Her hands were covered in blood. Natasha called out to you but ignored her. You kept walking towards the house as she fell to the side and the world around her disappeared.

Natasha gasped, her following back and she looked up at the ceiling. “And she’s back with us.” Her chest was heaving as she stared at the man in front of her, a knife in his hands. She licked her lips, desperately needing water. “Are you ready to talk?” He asked. Natasha said nothing, content with staying quiet. “You Widows are always so difficult. We will break you down.” They wouldn’t. Natasha would endure and survive and wait till help was on its way.

You stood in the corner of the room listening to Maria’s recount of what happened. Your jaw hurts for how hard you were clenching it. “Our main objective was to just observe and if given the opportunity we were to engage to steal some of their supply,” she explained. “But Natasha was distracted. I should have pulled her but she insisted she was fine.” You looked down at your feet, shaking your head. She was stubborn, so stupidly stubborn. You had a feeling that her mind was on the fight you and her had. “It took me some time to get to her location. She was gone but I managed to catch Daniel Strickland,” the screen behind her changed to the security footage of an interrogation room. His shoulder was wrapped poorly in gauze and you saw his blood. “I may have shot him,” she smirked. You lightly chuckled.

“Sam and I will handle the interrogation,” Steve said. Your eyes snapped to the super soldier. “The rest will research the group Romanoff and Hill were tailing, find known associates, properties, anything to give us an upper hand.”

“Actually,” you said, pushing off the wall. “I want to be the one to interrogate him. It was the first time you’d spoken since Maria told you of Natasha’s kidnapping, Yelena barely spoke.

“You're too close to this,” Steve said. “Your head isn’t clear.” You laughed, shaking your head as you walked over to the super soldier, standing face to face with him.

“I feel as though I could say the same thing to you, soldier,” you looked around the room of the other Avengers. “All of you had so many more years with her. I could argue you're all too close to this. That man,” you pointed to the screen. “Won’t give up that information if you ask him.”

“Are you suggesting torture?” Vision asked.

“We don’t torture people,” Sam added. You smiled.

“Exactly, the Avengers don’t torture people. I’m not an Avenger,” you pointed to yourself. “I’m a ghost, a mystery, I don’t have to follow the rules set forth by your government. I will get him to talk, trust me.” You added. Steve looked at you, his eyebrows pinched together as he thought it over.

“Steve,” you looked at Maria. “We are in a time crunch.” She was trying to stay calm, and professional but you saw the worry in her eyes. You saw the unconditional love she had for your sister. You looked back at Steve.

“The ball is in your court, Steve. How do you want to play?” You asked. He sighed.

“Fine, you can talk to him. What do you need?” You smiled, your heart skipping at the idea of being in the spotlight of such an important interrogation.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head soldier,” you ruffled his blond hair. “I was trained by the best.”

Natasha was standing in front of her closet, looking through the clothes that were hanging up. A school dance was this weekend and she needed something to wear. But her door burst open, startling her. She thought she locked it. ‘What did you do?’ You angrily asked. Natasha spun around to face you. She’s never seen this anger directed at her.

‘I don’t know what you are talking about,’ Truth be told Natasha had no idea what you were talking about. You sighed, rubbing your hands through your hair.

‘So you can’t explain why Jessica won’t go to the dance with me anymore,’ you said. Oh. So she did know what you were talking about. ‘And how everyone saw you talking with her.’

‘We weren’t talking about you,’ she lied. It hurt her to lie but she was stubborn down to her core. Your jaw clenched.

‘Stop lying to me, Natalia, and tell me.’ She held your glare but finally, she gave in and sighed.

‘I told her that it was best if she didn’t go to the dance with you,’ your face fell.

‘Why-why would you do that?’ You stuttered.

‘Because isn’t good enough for you,’ Natasha took a step towards you but stepped back. She saw her flirting with Taylor outside of school. ‘I was trying to protect you.’

‘Do you think it wasn’t up to you to make that decision for me?’ You asked. ‘That maybe you should have come to me instead of going to her.’ Natasha licked her lips.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn't think.’ You nodded.

‘Yeah, you weren’t,’ you said. ‘You were being selfish like always.’ You stormed out of her room, slamming the door behind you. ‘

Sestra,’ Natasha called, running after you but when she opened her door she wasn’t standing in Ohio but the Avenger’s compound. It was like watching as she watched Yelena and herself stopping Carol before entering the med bay.

‘It was an accident,’ Carol said. ‘You have to know I’ve never hurt her. I was having a nightmare.’

‘You could have killed her,’ Natasha said. Carol looked down at her feet.

‘I know, I know,’ she looked up and Natasha could see tears building in her eyes. ‘Please let me talk to her and I can apologize.’ The sisters looked at each other.

‘She doesn't want to see you,’ The redhead lied. Confusion was all over Carol’s face as she looked between Yelena and Natasha.

‘It’s probably best if you give her some space,’ Yelena added on.

‘Oh,’ Carol whispered. ‘Okay, can you tell her I’m sorry and that I-’ she shook her head. ‘Nevermind just nevermind.’ Carol turned to leave and Natasha didn’t move to stop her.

She blinked and she was back in Ohio. She needed to find you but an intense pain stopped her. Looking down at her hand and saw smoke coming from her skin. It started to become red and a number appeared 2051. Branded. Natasha fell to her knees and watched them brand her skin. Oddly enough, she felt no pain. She was only numb.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. You were picking out the weapons you needed to talk to Daniel. You opened your door and Yelena was on the other side. “Hey,” you pulled her into your room. You’ve barely had time to talk with her. As soon as Steve gave you the green light you ran to your room to get ready. You cleared a spot on your bed and sat down next to her. “How are you doing?”

“I’m so tired of this happening,” she admitted, looking down at her hands. There was more so you let her have the space to talk. “I just want all of us to be safe and together.” You smiled. “Do you think that will ever happen?” She finally looked at her.

“We’ll always be together,” you told her. “I will find her and bring her home.” You would burn the whole world to bring Natasha home.”

“You didn’t answer the safe part of my question,” you sighed, placing your hand against hers but didn’t interlock your fingers.

“We’ve made a lot of enemies,” you said. “Unless we fully stop I don’t think we’ll all be safe,” she hesitated but rested her head on your shoulder. “I forgive you, by the way, you and Natasha.” You felt her shake against you.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. You nodded, kissing the top of your head.

“I know you are but you know why I was so hurt,” she nodded. You forced her to look at you. “Nothing will come between us, malen'koye solnyshko (little sun); you, me, and Natasha.” She smiled. “Yelena,” she looked at you. “I don’t want you to be there when I talk to Daniel.” She pulled away from you.

“I’m going to be there,” she said. “I didn’t need you protecting me.” You knelt in front of her. You nodded, agreeing with her statement.

“I just don’t want you to see me like that.” She frowned.

“You're not a monster,” you weren’t sure about that. “I’m serious, sestra. The person you are about to become isn’t you. You are doing it to save Nat.” A knock on your door caused you to turn around. It was Carol.

“The team caught me up to speed,” she said. How are you guys?” She sat on the other side of Yelena.

“I’m ready to bring her home,” the blonde said. Carol smiled.

“I know I do. Do you need anything before you go talk to him?” You shook your head. She stood up to leave your room and before she left she whistled. You smiled at the sound and whistled back. You took her spot as she left, feeling the weight you were holding in your shoulders leaving.

“Well, you got the best people to do that.” Yelena looked at you with a smile.

“Hey,” Carol said but you didn’t look at her until she placed a finger underneath your chin to force you to look at her. She was smiling before you could ask her what was wrong and she kissed you. It took your breath away and everything you were stressed about melted away. Kissing her was your favorite thing. You pulled away, a smile on your face since you’d learned of Natasha’s kidnapping. “Better?”

“So much,” she chuckled, kissing your forehead. “I need you to be there when I walk out of that room,” you whispered. “I don’t know who I’m gonna be when I walk out of that room.”

“I’ll be there to catch you, beautiful,” she promised. “Always.”

Yelena stood next to Wanda and Steve looking through the one-way glass at the man who knew where her sister was. Soon the door opened and you, Carol, and Maria entered. You smiled at her before walking over to the door to go into the interrogation room. Before you opened the door, Maria grabbed your arm and whispered something in your ear. You nodded, letting out a deep breath in and slowly letting it out. “I hope she doesn't kill him,” Steve said, crossing his arms.

“She won’t,” Wanda said. “But he’s going to wish for death.”

It was weird being in this mindset again. You haven’t needed to enter it since you’ve been freed. You needed to be calm, void of all emotions, and numb to the screams you no doubt will hear. Maria’s words echoed in your head, ‘Make him hurt.’

You opened the door and didn’t acknowledge the man as you grabbed a chair to sit down in front of him. You sat down, pulling out a knife and a sharpener. The knife was a gift from the Winter Soldier after a mission success. It became your go-to knife for interrogations. It’s been so long since you’ve used it, it deserved a good sharpen. The man laughed. “I’m not gonna tell you shit,” you crossed your right leg over your left. “I know exactly who you are and how they trained you.” He continued to talk but you remained silent sharpening the knife. The blade was made out of stainless steel, the hilt was red with an outline of a spider on it. “We know how to break you and that cunt of a sister.” You felt your blood boil but you knew you had to be smart about this. Victims of intense interrogation could feed you lies to make the pain stop or tell you the truth. He was cocky, and downright arrogant so he’ll be harder to break. But even the toughest metals could bend, you just had to apply the right amount of pressure. You looked at the tip of the knife and poked it on your thumb. You watched your blood drip down your hand.

“Sharp isn’t it?” You sucked on your thumb and stood up to walk behind him. “Do you know who I am?” You asked. You were in his blind spot so the only way he could see you was by looking at your reflection in the glass. You were twirling the knife in your hand.

“A filthy Widow,” he said. “A slut that fucks anything that moves.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” you moved your free hand across his throat and down his chest. “You want me on my knees in front of you, pleasing you,” you whispered in his ear. You felt him shutter. “I’m just better than you though,” you pushed your thumb into his gunshot wound. He groaned in pain. “Dreykov used to call me his malen'kiy pauk.” His head snapped to look at you. “So do you know who I am?” You walked around him, circling his chair as his chest heaved. “Tell me how good your Russian is.”

“Little spider,” you smiled.

“Do you know he called me that?” He didn’t answer. “Widows are poisonous. We weave our webs and feel the vibrations when an unlucky intruder gets trapped,” you grabbed onto his neck to tilt his head back and you danced the knife against his skin. You were facing forward but you could feel his eyes burning into you. “Once captured, widows inject their victims with poison, paralyzing them,” you looked down, locking your eyes with his. “I was his little spider because my bite burns, it kills,” you throw his head forward. “I’m going to ask you one simple question and I expect the truth. Do you think you can be a good boy and do that for me?” He licked his dry lips. “Where is Natasha?”

“Go fuck yourself,” he said. “You can go shove that knife up -” he didn’t get a chance to finish as you threw your knife and hit him in the shoulder where Maria shot him. You stalked back to him and twisted the knife before pulling it out. You hated to admit it but you enjoyed listening to him scream.

“Do you want to know another fact about Widows?” You asked, sitting on his lap. “We love feasting on weak and pathetic men. So,” you put the tip of the knife, now covered in his blood, under his chin. “Where is my fucking sister?”

Natasha was on the swing, looking down at the grass. She wasn’t swinging but the wind blowing through the backyard was pushing the swing. Lost in her world, she didn’t hear Yelena run to the other swing and jump on it. ‘Can you push me?’ She asked, giving her best puppy dog eyes. Natasha sighed, standing up to push Yelena. The creaking of the swing and the distant sound of children playing filled the quiet air between the two sisters. ‘Are you and Y/n fighting?’ Yelena asked, breaking the silence. Natasha sighed.

‘I did something that hurt her,” Natasha said. Yelena didn’t say anything and she was grateful for the silence. But the blonde jumped off the swing and landed on her feet. Natasha was shocked.

‘Did you say you're sorry?’ She asked, turning to face her.

‘Well yes but she didn’t accept it,’ Yelena's smile grew as she ran back to the swing and laid down on it. Her blonde hair fell, creating a curtain around her face.

‘That’s the thing about families,’ she used her legs to spin the swing. Natasha watched as the metal chains began to twist together. ‘We fight and get upset with one another but we still love each other.’ Natasha grabbed the swing before she could release it. She laughed at the pout on the blonde’s face.

‘How did you know exactly what I needed to hear?’ She asked.

‘Well, this isn’t real, Nat,’ Yelena whispered. ‘I’m just in your head.’ She let go of the chain and the squeals of her sister fell on deaf ears. When Yelena stopped spinning, she fell to the ground.

‘Are they going to find me in time?’ Natasha asked.

‘Natalie!’ She looked towards the sound of her name. You were standing on the porch, your hands gripping the railing. ‘Natasha!’ You yelled her name again. She looked back at the blonde who was smiling.

‘I think that answers your question,’ Yelena smiled. ‘Just wake up.’

You kicked the door open and shot the two men next to Natasha. Their bodies slumped to the ground. You strapped your gun back to your hip and quickly moved to your sister. Her tactical suit was pulled down to her hips. There were slashes across her stomach, her skin was caked with her blood. You were worried about a deep wound on her stomach and a branding mark on her hand. “I found her. I need immediate medical attention to the south side of the building,” you said through your coms. She had a pulse but you didn’t like how weak it was. You unlocked your legs. “Hey Natasha, can you open your eyes for me?” You asked, holding her head. “Come on sestra, wake up. Your safe.” Soon her eyes fluttered open. Her green eyes were laced with confusion as she looked around the room then her eyes landed on you.

“Sestra,” her voice was rough. “Are you real?” She asked. You nodded, tears running down your face.

“Yeah, I’m real,” you whispered. She winced as she rested her forehead against yours. “You're safe. Let’s get you home.”

When Natasha woke up she was no longer in that room but back at the compound in med bay. Her body was sore but she was alive. She was alive and safe. In the low light of the room, she saw you sitting next to her. Your eyes were closed and arms were crossed against your chest. But Natasha knew you weren’t sleeping. “Hey,” her throat was still dry and sore. You opened your eyes and a smile grew on your lips.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” you teased. She rolled her eyes and you helped her sit up, mindful of her wounds. “How are you feeling?” You asked. Natasha did a mental assessment.

“Like I got hit by a bus,” you laughed, shaking your head. You took your hand in yours. It was wrapped in gauze. She wasn't used to this gentle touch from you.

“I forgive you,” you told her. “I think I forgave you much sooner but I didn’t say anything,” you stared at your connected hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you and almost lost the chance to.” Natasha let out a shaky breath. It was such a relief to hear those words from you.

“You would have told me when you were ready,” Natasha said. You ran your thumb over the back of her hand. “Besides I knew you’d save me.”

“Oh?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “What makes you so sure?”

“It’s what we do,” she smiled. “Family, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Family.”

She must have fallen asleep because when she woke up you were gone and Maria and Yelena were by her side. Her sister was playing solitaire on top of her. “I’m not a table,” Yelena yelped and a card fell out of her hand. Natasha smirked as she sat up and took a sip of water.

“I told her to cut it out,” Maria said, closing the mission report she was working on. Yelena glared at the agent, cleaning up the cards.

“How are you feeling?” Yelena asked.

“I’m okay,” was all Yelena needed before she hugged the redhead. Natasha held back her wince and hugged her sister tight. “I’m right here,” she whispered. She mirrored her action with you and placed her forehead against Yelena’s. “How did you guys find me?” She asked once Yelena sat down.

“I was able to capture one of the members of White Moths, Daniel Strickland.” Natasha offered her hand to her girlfriend, who hesitated before taking it. The Black Widow made a mental note to talk to her about it. “I brought him back here for questioning.”

“I’m surprised he got that information so easily,” she watched Maria’s eyes glance at Yelena.

“Well,” the blonde stretched out. “Steve agreed to have Y/n do the interrogation.”

“Is that man alive?” Natasha joked, trying to make light of the new information.

“He is,” Maria said. “He’s being transported to the RAFT.” You interrogated the man who was part of the group who took her. Natasha only could imagine what Red Room tactics you used, the mindset you went in. You seemed fine but there was a nagging feeling in Natasha's stomach. “She’s intense,” Maria continued. “Remind me to never piss her off.”

You walked back to the interrogation room where Daniel was being held with a few agents Fury assigned to transport him to the RAFT. You opened the door for the agents. “I wanted to tell you that we found her,” he was unchained from the chair. “And the rest of your organization has either been killed or arrested,” his hands were cuffed. “Those who managed to get away are being haunted by the Avengers. Enjoy your life sentence.” You turned to leave.

“You know you and I are very similar,” you stopped at his taunt and faced him. An agent was about to put a muzzle over his mouth but you held up your hand to stop him.

“You and I are nothing alive,” you said. He laughed.

“Please we have the same level of darkness inside of us,” he smirked. “All you have to do is tap into it. I saw it when you almost killed me,” he lunged at you but the agents held him back. You didn’t flinch. “You could conquer the world, burn it down, and rebuild it if you just embraced it.”

“I’m nothing like you,” you repeated. “Get him out of here.” The agent placed the muzzle on his mouth and dragged him out of the room. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. You tried not to let his words affect you. You weren’t a monster, you were a protector, a sister. You weren’t like them. However, there was a part of you that enjoyed the power you had over him, the control, the idea that his life rested in the palm of your hand.

“Hey,” you turned around to see Maria. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Everything okay?” She didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, Maria.” She nodded.

“Natasha wants to have lunch with you and Yelena. I’ve been tasked as the messenger,” you laughed, following her back towards med bay. “You can come to me if something is bothering you.” You chuckled, throwing your arm over her shoulder.

“I know,” you said. “I’m just happy that we are all safe and together.”

___

Taglist: @fxckmiup

Writing made me think what would happen if Yelena was taken. I think the world would burn down. Sorry this took me so long to write. I’m hoping May will be a good month of writing for me!

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silverwhittlingknife · 2 years

Note

I noticed something in a lot of your Dick and Tim fics. It's probably so obvious, but you always write that Tim is watching Dick. In your newest one, Tim's watching Dick, in The Return Tim's watching Dick, and you even write that Tim is always watching him. Is Tim trying to read Dick? Trying to understand? Or does he understand him by watching? What is he trying to figure out by watching Dick? What does that say about Tim? I really hope this is intentional lmao because I would be embarrassed. Maybe this is just something so obvious that I'm just getting now.

YES IT’S ON PURPOSE <333 Anon. Anon. I'm so sorry this answer took forever, but listen, this was a really delightful ask <333 I think about this a lot. I really love origin stories—I like stories that resonate through a character’s history.

And for me, a whole lot of what interests me about Dick and Tim is that theme of watching and being watched. Seeing and being seen.

"Watch me on the trapeze, Tim. I'm going to do my act...'specially for you." | "Timmy, don't look." | "I turned away... I couldn't watch. Then I heard you crying and I turned back... I'm sorry, Dick. I didn't want to hurt you by telling you all this." Dick's watching me. Gauging my reactions. (Tim watching Dick watching Tim!) | "I'm taking off the blindfold." "No!" | "I can't see him. You can't see him. But I know Robin. And Robin's always there when you need him." | I love that kid. Too much to let him see me like this. (But Tim spots him anyway.)

Spotlights and lighthouses and cameras and photographs. Blindness and vision and masks and detective work and trust.

I'm going to try to be coherent about this but it's gonna be incoherent sdfsf BUT I'M GOING TO TRY so. Below the cut, a really long grab-bag of my rambling on vision and watchers and watching.

Tim + watching / Dick + being watched / different dynamics

Tim's origin story

Being watched goes with vulnerability/exposure

Incomplete list of moments with Dick and Tim and vision

Tim + watching

The first time we see Tim's face in LPoD: a close-up on his eyes looking for Dick, a close-up on his eyes at the moment that he sees Dick, a pullback to his face at the moment of recognition, a pullback to his face + his camera (you could maybe even argue that Tim comes into existence at the moment that he sees Dick, like, conceptually. the act of seeing is his defining characteristic. it is the thing that makes his character happen. he is the kid who's watching.)

Tim's a very vision-centric character: he's first introduced as a camera, then as a pair of binoculars, then as a pair of eyes. His whole backstory is about watching: watching Dick's parents die, watching Dick on TV, watching Batman and Robin. I've grabbed a few panels above with Tim watching Dick but there are so many more. His major deductions are all vision-based: he sees Dick-the-acrobat and later recognizes Dick-as-Robin; he sees Bruce-in-the-past and recognizes him as Bruce-of-our-time; the climactic moment in Red Robin is about going into a dark cave with a torch so he can see what's there.

And he's a detective. He pries into secrets. He analyzes people. He's a worrywart and a fusser who always wants to understand what's going on with other people. In a lot of those panels where Tim's watching Dick, his inner monologue is busy deducing Dick's emotions and trying to psychoanalyze him. Tim's caring and watchful and intuitive... but all those qualities also make him very very intrusive.

Dick + being watched

Dick performing acrobatics for Bruce, Donna, and Tim in Detective Comics 38 (his first appearance), New Teen Titans 16, Batman 441, and Nightwing 88 (where he reflects he's glad to be back in the hot glare of the spotlight)

Dick's a detective too, of course - Tim deliberately mirrors Dick, both in-universe and out-of-universe. But also Dick's a performer who loves being watched and also wants to control how he's seen. He gets a kick out of showing off, making puns, kicking ass, taking names, and he gets a kick out of having an appreciative audience. And he's got a kind of yearning for recognition - it hurts, when Bruce won't look at him, and in fights with Bruce, Babs, Roy, he'll often bring up the past, trying to get them to acknowledge a shared history.

At the same time, he's a very private person who withdraws and hides and pushes people away when he's upset. Right before Tim shows up, Dick's just ghosted the Titans because he's having emotional turmoil and doesn't want to have it in front of them, and they're trying to respect his wishes... but that solitude doesn't last long, because then Tim tracks him down. Tim will do this again when Dick's having an emotional crisis and trying to avoid everybody in Nightwing 110.

Possible dynamics

Tim watches Dick in Robin 11, while silently analyzing Dick's anxieties about Two-Face

"The watcher and the person being watched" is a dynamic that really interests me, partly because it can be so complicated?

You can see in Dick and Tim their very first roles: enthusiastic performer and the enthusiastic audience member. Dick likes to perform and show off and entertain; Tim likes to watch; those are roles they both easily slide into and they have a lot of fun together! But also you can look at the harsher side: the crime victim and the voyeur, the amateur photographer and the guy who hates being photographed. Dick's intensely private about his vulnerabilities; Tim's intrusive and watchful and constantly trying to figure out how other people tick. Sometimes Tim's the caring friend who watches Dick closely, reads him well, understands him; sometimes he's the nosy mini-detective who pries into Dick's secrets. And that's just two different ways of describing the same thing!

One of the things that kinda fascinates me about Dick and Tim's relationship is that in a lot of ways it's built on a bunch of low-key boundary violations. A lot of their early relationship is driven by Tim's desire to know more about Dick vs. Dick's reluctance to get close to anyone from Gotham; Tim's often out-of-line, but without his pushiness, it's hard to see how they would've developed a relationship at all. Later on, their friendlier relationship is marked by Dick teasing and low-key bullying Tim; it's pretty obvious that Tim isn't actually bothered by this, but it does involve Dick ignoring whatever Tim's claiming he doesn't like ("Quit it!" "Shh").

And one of the aspects of those boundary-violations is that Tim has a habit of witnessing things that Dick would prefer that nobody see. Tim's a witness to Dick's first and most miserable tragedy; he sees the aftermath of some of Dick's fights with Bruce; he's there when Donna dies. And he's sharp and observant and analytical, and I like to imagine this as being something Dick's not entirely comfortable with.

When Dick first meets Tim, it's before he's learned to wear a mask. And Tim spends a lot of time trying to see through Dick's masks, and he's pretty good at it, and a lot of that prying comes from love and care, because one of the ways that Tim shows love and respect and admiration is by trying to absorb absolutely everything about you, like a little sponge. But there's also something unsparing and even threatening about the search for the truth of someone else. It can be comforting or threatening, to know someone's watching you.

And I love how all that complexity is wrapped up in Tim's origin story? Both the giddy childish "Watch me on the trapeze" and then the awful grim reality of what Tim actually sees as a result and then the difficult connection when Dick and Alfred finally get Tim to explain how he knows their secret identities.

Tim's origin story

Tim (recounting his origin story in LPoD): My parents held me back as the thing moved to you. I cried out to warn you. (Two panels where we see just Tim's eyes, as he watches a crying Dick. He sees Batman approach and start trying to comfort Dick.)

I think fiction sometimes presents "being understood / seen / known" as an uncomplicatedly good thing, and there's nothing wrong with that! But I like complications, and I like the way Tim's origin story frames that moment of witnessing as difficult and fraught. Tim doesn't want to tell Dick how he knows their secret identities because he thinks it'll hurt Dick to know it: I don't want to hurt you, Dick, and I'm really afraid I might. And he's not wrong. It is painful; it does hurt; it's not something Dick's happy to know.

Dick's a very private person, and there's a painful intimacy to Tim's origin story - it's not Tim's fault he was there, but at the same time, it's not like Dick chose to have the most traumatic moment of his life on stage in front of an audience of strangers, you know? It's kind of a violation. In NTT/NT/Nightwing, Dick's pretty violently hostile to photographers, and he's intensely private about trauma in general, and I like to imagine this as partly a reaction to that foundational trauma of losing the most important people in his life and also doing it publicly.

And Tim's part of that audience. And he sees the worst part, the part that Dick can't talk about. He sees the bodies and the blood. He has nightmares about it for years. He hears Dick crying and sees him holding onto his parents' bodies. Not at all the kind of first impression Dick would want to make. Not at all the kind of person he wants to be seen as. And that understanding can be painful, because it's so close to the bone, and when Tim's just a stranger, it's upsetting, because Tim knows things that Dick would never have chosen for him to know. Their few conversations about it are awkward partly because Tim's thirteen and awkward... but at the same time, it's not Tim's fault so much as the situation! There's no way for Tim to talk about what he saw that wouldn't be uncomfortable for Dick.

... And yet, and yet. Tim's also one of the last people to see the Graysons alive. He sees Dick and his parents together; he even takes a picture with them. He remembers the whole thing so vividly he'll recognize Dick's somersault years later. He sees the grief. And so I think of that connection as kind of a metaphor for witnessing. Tim sees these things and they become real; Dick can't hide from them; in the act of being seen he's caught, he's in a spotlight, all the grief made real. You can't hide, that way. And Tim's got this unforgiving memory; he won't ever forget; he won't ever stop knowing.

But then, too: Dick's seen, he's known. Even at the very beginning, when Tim doesn't know enough to understand what he knows, he knows the important things.

So that shared memory is a barrier and a bond between them. It can be a source of discomfort or a source of comfort. And that's how I think about Tim watching Dick in general - it's complicated, and sometimes Dick's glad of it, and sometimes he resents it, and also it just is, it's a fact of Tim, that Tim watches. It's notable when he's not watching, when he's turned away.

Being watched goes with vulnerability/exposure

So I'm going to talk about the fraught feeling of being watched more in a little bit, but first: I think it's fascinating that Dick likes screwing around with games where Tim can't see!

Here's Nightwing 25 - Dick's come up with the idea of trainsurfing while blindfolded:

Tim: Are you sure this is such a good idea? Dick: Shh! Listen. Tune into the changing sounds and - Tim: I'm not so - Dick: JUMP!

Here's Robin 49 - clambering through a tunnel into No Man's Land:

Dick: Hard not to think about the river. All the water above us. And bugs. This tunnels' probably full of 'em. And rats. Big ones. Big blind rats with teeth as long as -

Here's Gotham Knights 9 - ambushing Tim in a sorta game of hide-and-seek:

Dick: Gotcha! Tim: Augh!

I feel like mmm I don't want to emphasize power dynamics too much because it's easy to overplay it BUT when I think about headcanons it's interesting to me to think about how maybe when Tim can't see, Dick's more in charge / in control, and so he feels more comfortable and less vulnerable, and that's often when he's most relaxed and playing around the most?

Whereas the moments when Tim's looking at him are often a bit more fraught, as here in Lonely Place of Dying:

Tim: I'm sorry, Dick. I really am. I didn't want to hurt you by telling you all this. Dick... Dick: It's all right, Tim. No matter how old you are, there are some things you never forget. Or get over. (Silent panel: Tim's watching Dick as Dick turns away and stares into the window.)

Or here in Nightwing 6, when Tim wakes him up from a nightmare:

Dick (internally, imagining a kid falling): He shouts to me. He always shouts to me. I never hear what he says. Tim: Nightwing! Wake up!

Or here in Gotham Knights 26, when Bruce is accused of murder:

(Silent panel where Tim's watching Dick.) Tim: I'm sorry. This must be hard for you. Dick: Me? Why? Tim: Well, I mean, it'd be one thing if we really knew he was innocent, but as it is - Dick: Wait, what? Stop right there. What are you saying, Tim?

Here's Tim spotting him before he can get away in Nightwing 110:

Dick (watching Tim from a distance, internally): Still, Timmy played it through nice and clean. Disarmed the perps, protected and avoided the cops. Kept any civilians from getting shot. God, I love that kid. Too much to let him see me like this. Tim: Hey! (appearing on the roof above him, fake-cheerful) You weren't gonna leave without saying hi, were you? Dick (looking away, very quietly): Hey, Timmy. Tim: Look at you, man! Back on both feet! Think you're done stopping bullets with your body for a while? Dick: Hope springs eternal. (Silent panel with Tim watching Dick, who's turned away.) Tim: You okay, Dick? Dick: I'm fine. Tim: Well, where're you staying these days? Dick: With some people.

Of course, sometimes Tim's watchfulness is frustrating but also a comfort, as in Detective Comics 874:

Tim (watching Dick, who's looking away): Are you listening to me, Batman? I'm saying the gas the Dealer used on you was powerful stuff. Dick: I'm fine, Red Robin. Besides...you're here now. Tim: You're not fine. And with or without me, you shouldn't be out on patrol ye - Dick: Sshhh. Here they come.

(Later in the comic, Dick mentally concedes that Tim's right that he hasn't really recovered from the gas, and Tim saves him from drowning when he's hallucinating. So Dick feels kind of exposed by the scrutiny, but also... he invited Tim along, so there's trust there, too - Tim's perceptiveness can be a good thing, too, when things are serious.)

Incomplete summary of moments with Dick and Tim and vision

I think I already mentioned a lot of these but here is my LIST

almost the first thing that Dick says to Tim is "watch me on the trapeze, Tim" and then Tim does and he basically never stops watching;

Tim watches Dick's parents die and watches Dick sobbing on-stage and watches him on TV and recognizes him by seeing a particular trick because he's dreamed about Dick doing the trick in his recurring nightmares about that night;

in New Titans 65 which is their very first team-up comic after Tim's origin, Dick's training pre-Robin Tim and gives him a test about watching for details and later Tim's takeaway is "I saw how [the Titans] listened to you";

there's a moment in Showcase '93 12 which is just Tim watching Dick and analyzing what's going on with him and there's another moment in Prodigal which is the same thing;

in Nightwing 6 Tim sneaks into Dick's apartment and hides in the dark and Dick spots him and tackles him; one of their most important bonding comics is Nightwing 25, where Dick insists on blindfolding him to get him to rely less on vision; when they sneak into No Man's Land they're in the dark and Tim can't see again and Dick's teasing him;

there are multiple moments when Tim can't see Dick for a bit and panics about his safety, in Nightwing 25, in No Man's Land, in Transference, in Bruce Wayne: Murderer;

Tim's there watching when Dick's wedding to Kory falls apart and he's there watching when Bruce and Dick fight and he's there watching when Donna dies and he's watching when Dick and Bruce swing together on the night before Infinite Crisis, and when Dick goes down and almost dies in Infinite Crisis we cut to Tim watching and seeing it happen and screaming;

there are multiple moments which are just silent panels of them staring at each other trying to figure out what's going on with each other or having a stand-off - in Bruce Wayne: Murderer, in Resurrection, in Red Robin;

in the aftermath of Donna's death there's a panel where Dick's watching Tim from a distance and not approaching;

in the aftermath of Blockbuster Dick spends half the comic just staring at Tim from a distance and hiding himself because "I love that kid - too much to let him see me like this," but Tim sees him anyway and chases him down and then they lie to each other and *ranting* LISTEN TO ME the whole comic is about Dick trying to AVOID being SEEN both literally but also METAPHORICALLY AND --!!!

(the only thing i'm even as halfway obsessive about for them is the heights thing because also there are a bunch of moments involving falling or Tim being anxious about heights and worried that he'll fall or Dick will fall)

In conclusion

Consider the progression in all these moments where Tim's watching an upset Dick and worrying about him!! From reaching out instinctively-but-pointlessly when he's too far away in the LPoD flashback, to almost reaching out in LPoD but hesitating, to putting a hand on Dick's back to walk him back to the Cave in Gotham Knights 10, to physically dragging him clear of the water in Batman: Black Mirror!

In conclusion I don't have a conclusion but basically YES, "watching Dick" is a core Tim characteristic as far as I'm concerned, and Tim watches Dick a lot and that can mean all kinds of things from admiration to nosy intrusiveness to worry to care to gratitude to trying-to-figure-out-what's-going-on-with-him, and sometimes Dick's resentful and sometimes he's relieved and sometimes he's playful and sometimes it's a mix of all those feelings.

And at first it's always Tim watching Dick, but later you've got Dick watching Tim too, and there's that moment where Dick's secretly watching him fight but Tim spots him in Nightwing 110 and there's a silent panel where Dick's watching him in Resurrection and at the very end of Robin there's a scene where Dick's secretly watching him fight but Tim spots him and in the very last issue of Red Robin Dick's watching the end of the confrontation with Boomerang and in Prodigal Dick's the one who notices his face is bruised and aaaaaaah

Anyway I think they're neat <3

#ask tag #hi anon this is SO old i'm so sorry sdfsfs #if you're still here hi!! <333 #this was such a validating ask to get because as you can probably tell i think about the vision thing constantly #also this is SO long oh man. sorry i just started typing and it went on and on sdfdsf #dick grayson #tim drake #dick & tim #it's like. it's just endlessly fascinating to me because the paparazzi/photography stuff is one of dick's biggest triggers #and tim's introduced as a surreptitious amateur photographer #so there's no WAY they will ever get along #but then there's the Meaningful Photo from before the show #that low-key shows that tim's freaky obsessiveness comes from a place of genuine caring & this moment of real connection #so you have early days!dick kinda vibrating back and forth between 'I DON'T WANT HIM MAKE HIM GO AWAY'#vs. those moments when he IS getting attached to tim kinda against his will sdfsdf #and just. the dichotomy between paying attention as a form of love vs. being watched as a kind of violation and exposure #and that both are kinda the same thing?? and dick deeply craves the first and deeply hates the second #tim shows up being all I REMEMBER and what he remembers is exactly what dick was demanding bruce remember in b416 #but /also/ he remembers /everything/ 'i remember it all' he remembers the graysons dying in incredibly painful detail #and like. kid!tim is very tactless & has only two switches of 'TELL HIM NOTHING' and 'if forced to speak then overshare'#but the tactlessness is a fixable problem and the remembering is /not/#it's not like it's any better for tim to keep his mouth shut & dick to just be painfully /aware/ that he's thinking abt the graysons dying #bc ofc /tim/ remembering forces /dick/ to remember #but!! but also. you know. maybe that remembering /isn't/ entirely a bad thing #and dick's feelings about it can change over time #anyway tim's not the only person that dick has this kind of conflict with - wally & roy sometimes chase him down when he's withdrawing too #and he often doesn't really appreciate it from them either #and dick's not the only person who gets subjected to tim's particular brand of intrusive caring #conner's not thrilled about the dna thing & ives would be within his rights to resent the stalking even though he doesn't #but i am obviously personally most fond of the ways this plays out with dick & tim

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chobani-flip · 5 months

Text

buddie goggles and why you might enjoy wearing them more if you acknowledge them

so yeah, i think the buddie goggles are a real issue. (ive had them too, fellow shippers, no judgment) like, is it possible that buck and eddie will at some point start a deeply fulfilling romantic relationship? yes. is it what's happening on screen right now and what the show is 100% suggesting is imminent? no. sorry, it's just not.

look, the thing with analysing and interpreting any text is that it's very much about finding things that the text is doing, what could be there, looking at it from different angles and choosing to focus on certain aspects: that's why you have feminist readings of X and queer readings of Y, etc

but if you go looking at a text with the intention of looking for authorial intent and secret messages the author is leaving that only you and the fandom can pick up on correctly? that's such a slippery, tricky slope.

consider:

simply communicating ideas face to face to one single other person can often end in misunderstandings

communicating ideas in writing?... well, we live in the pissing on the poor era of the internet, don't we.

like, how many times have you read/written something, looked at the comments and gone: but...that's not what's there? like, interesting that you see it, but also, i don't know where you got that from

see where I'm going with this?

there is so much that goes into the making of a tv show besides the script and actors' delivery that i am absolutely not an expert on: costumes, set dressing, blocking, lighting, editing, soundtrack...

taking any of those aspects and analysing it and looking for connections is my favourite thing to do and read about and...

ngl, watching the show and looking for buddie in all of them is so much fun. i love it, it's what got me into 911 in the first place.

but i promise you, the moment you stop acknowledging that that's what you're doing, that what you're doing is a Buddie reading of 911, and instead proclaim it as the one single truth? that's when you set yourself up for a wild and not always pleasant ride.

and this isn't about having or not having faith in the writers or buddie or the one they call tim, and honestly, it's kind of telling that the word "faith" is used so often.

it's about accepting that while watching a tv show, we're all putting ourselves in a position of observing the shadows of plato's cave with binoculars on a low-visibility day. (ok. that's a really pretentious twatty thing to say, but i'll leave it there because i think the image is funny. ) and no amount of media literacy is going to give you a clear insight into the minds and intentions of all of the people creating the show (can we please stop shouting at people to get "media literacy" if they disagree with our interpretation of a text, even if what they're saying sounds dumb)

now, i don't know if yall were here for the TJLC thing back then, and I am absolutely not saying that what the Sherlock show did and what 911 is doing is in any shape or form similar, however, on tumblr and amongst the fandom, the lead-up to season 4 and then the secret fourth episode fallout felt exactly like what some parts of the 911 fandom are doing now. so... just take care, friends. and don't be dicks to people who disagree with you over a ship.

#9-1-1 #911 abc #911 season 7 #buddie #buddie goggles #firebeast #bucktommy

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bleedingcoffee42 · 25 days

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Remember that photo board of other officers in their dress uniforms, and there's Sparky (in the middle) in his combat uniform and binoculars - and folks say he was not a troll, lol

Maybe Dick's nickname was Dick (as a part of a body, not a short version of his name).

There are some records of Lip talking about the war in other books and dude LOVED talking and loved mentioning weirs stuff, like whose injured ass he bandaged. And he would just spare a few lines about his fave Captain? Please.

Lol. I kind of think Sparky wrote to Nix just to tell him "Lewis, tell your soulmate to stop harassing my ass, for God's sake" or something. Don't change my mind.

This one? The one where everyone else showed up for picture day but Sparky? And they couldn't nail him down at any point in Austria to take a better one? I think about it a lot more than I should.

And the battalion pic he didn't show up for either? (Nor Nixon, or Shames, or Jones.) Yes he's running around Bastogne getting a guy to take pics of him with binoculars? and Malarkey with burlap?

I thought Dick was just a kinda traditional nickname for Richards who didn't like 'Rick' but not sure when that changed. He can be a dick, maybe someone slapped him with that name when he was being a shit about some officer not knowing an M-1 from a Springfield and he ran with it.

The stories from Lip's kids about the tales he could tell and how much they loved the shit he would make up on the fly? And there is a long story about Lip having cellulitis and Sink trying to help him out of being in the infirmary in the Lipton/Guarnere interview. Longer than it needed to be. Smokey with his poems, Lip with his stories...you guys would have done well on tumblr/a03. I'm always on the 'the absence of information says more than what you tell me' program. But there is also A LOT more in every one of those interviews than anyone has made of them.

I agree. I really think he immediately wrote Nixon a letter like "Get your man under control."

#asks #sparky #anon

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biggerbetterbat · 1 year

Text

WITH YOU [6] HELICOPTER BOY

Summary: Glenn is finally back and he brings another person to the camp. The group faces another problem.

Warnings: idk, language probably

Song: Silly Girl chloe moriondo

DAYLIGHT ON WATTPAD

The first thing they heard was the loudest car alarm that you could think of. It was echoing through the mountains, and in a second Dale was on his feet - like everyone else- on top of his RV. He had his binoculars up and was looking around the area.

"Talk to me, Dale." said Shane.

"Nothing yet." he said, still looking around.

They were all prepared to fight in case someone wanted to harm them. It was difficult to determine the direction and source of the noise due to the mountains.

"Is it them? Are they back?"

"I'll be damned." Dale smiled lightly.

"What is it?" asked Amy who was very nervous.

"Stolen car is my guess," Dale replied.

Before Charlie had a chance to say something, Glenn pulled up in a red sports car. He had a big grin on his face and his posture said that he was relaxed. The car looked like one that Charlie was being driven in by all those guys she was dating. He looked excited, not like a person who was stuck and surrounded just hours ago.

"You need a ride, baby?" those were the first words she heard as an Asian boy left his car.

"Silly." she smiled and hugged him.

"Told you I will be back. And you have to say that it's the coolest way to come back," he said and put an arm around her shoulder.

"Holy crap, turn that damn thing off!" Dale shouted in annoyance.

"I don't know how!" Glenn said.

"Pop the hood please," said Shane, coming to the car.

"My sister Andrea..." Amy almost tackled Glenn.

"Pop the damn hood, please?" Shane said through gritted teeth. "Pop the damn hood please!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah! Okay!" Glen was trying to shout over Amy while sitting in the car to do what Shane wanted.

"Is she okay? Is she alright?" Amy asked.

"YES." screamed an Asian boy, who couldn't bear the tension. "Yeah, she's okay! She's okay."

"Is she coming back?"Amy asked him another question.

"Yes!" he nodded.

"Why isn't she with you? Where is she? She's okay?"

"Yes!" was all he said to her yet another question.

"Amy, just give him space to breathe." Lori interrupted. "Andrea will be back."

"Yeah, she's fine," Glenn said with a smile that faded from his lips. "Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much."

Charlie furrowed her eyebrows, but her friend just gave her a sign that he would tell her everything later.

"Are you crazy driving this wailing bastard up here? You trying to draw every walker for miles?" Shane said nervously, leaning on the opened mask of the car.

"I think we're okay," said Dale.

"You call being stupid okay?" Shane furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at the older man.

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over those hills. Hard to point the source," he said and when he saw angry eyes of a cop on him, he added. "I'm not arguing, I'm just saying." Then he turned to Glenn and furrowed his eyebrows. "It wouldn't hurt you to just think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?"

"Sorry." he nodded his head with remorse, but as soon as he turned to look at Charlie he smiled, excitement pouring through the pores of his skin."Got a cool car."

She chuckled, happy that he found another bright side to the end of the world.

Van pulled up just a second later. More people leaving a car and hugging with their loved ones. It was a good sight, but Charlie saw how Lori was hugging Carl closer to her. The boy was crying, clearly sad that it's not his dad that is back.

"Amy!"

"Andrea!"

"Oh thank God," Charlie whispered looking up, so Glenn shoved her in the arm with a smile.

"You're a welcome sight." smiled Dale. "I thought we'd lost you folks for sure."

"We left him on a roof. Merle." said quietly, Glenn. "The new guy handcuffed him there because he was gonna put us all in danger," explained Asian.

"New guy?"

"How'd you all get out of there anyway?" asked Shane.

"New guy," repeated Glenn. "He got us out."

"New guy?" Dale asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"Yeah." Morales replied."Crazy vato just got into town. Hey! Helicopter Boy, come say hello!" he yelled to someone who was still near a van and looked at Shane. "He's a cop, like you."

Suddenly, Carl ran past her and straight into the arms of the new guy. All they could hear were sobs and words of love. Charlie's heart swelled as she watched the man kneel with his son in his arms, holding him tightly. Lori seemed shocked and slowly made her way over to her husband, embracing him. They all cried tears of joy together. Meanwhile, Shane stood there looking lost and attempting to conceal his emotions. He appeared devastated and bewildered, struggling to believe what he was seeing. However, when Lori's husband looked at him, he smiled.

As everyone huddled around the fire, Rick shared his incredible story. It was hard to believe that someone could endure so much, waking up alone in a hospital bed with no knowledge of what was happening outside. His voice trembled with confusion, but his determination to find his family never wavered. The new guy seemed kind-hearted with gentle features and was quite handsome and well-built - not as much as Shane, but still impressive. Lori was incredibly lucky to have him by her side.

Suddenly, a crackling sound interrupted her thoughts. Ed Peletier had just thrown another log onto the fire, and Shane watched with anger as sparks flew into the night sky.

"Hey, Ed." he said, trying to be calm."You wanna rethink that log?"

"It's cold man." he just shrugged.

"Cold doesn't change the rules, does it?"

Rick was confused about the whole thing and looked at his wife."Rules?"

"Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?" Shane got up to kind of show off, making it clear that he's the leader, he's the boss.

"I said it's cold. Why don't you mind your own business for once?" Ed said back, annoyed.

"Sure you wanna have this conversation, man?"

"Go on. Pull the damn thing out, go on." Ed mumbled under his nose.

When two men were fighting, Carol walked up to the fire and took out the log from it. When she placed it on the ground, Shane stepped on it to prevent the flame from spreading. Then he crouched next to a mother and her daughter.

"Hey Carol, Sophia how are y'all this evening?" he asked kindly, not to scare any of them.

"Fine." Carol answered quietly."Just fine."

"Okay."

"Sorry about the fire," she said so quickly it was almost a whisper.

"No, no." Shane said abruptly."No apology needed. Y'all have a good night, okay?" he said and as he was getting up he added. "I appreciate the cooperation."

When everyone was seated back in their places and silence became overwhelming, Dale decided to ask the crucial question. "Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

Daryl was still out on a hunt. He left again, soon after they came back from looking for berries and was gone till now. It was not unusual for the hunter to spend a night in the woods, so his absence went unnoticed. However, today everyone seemed relieved that Daryl was gone because that gave them time to come up with a plan, they could choose a poor person, who would break the news to him.

"I'll tell him." said T-Dog. "I dropped the key. It's on me."

"I cuffed him. That makes it mine." said Rick, while caressing hair of Carl, who was laying on his legs.

"Guys, it's not a competition." interrupted them Glenn. "I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy."

"I did what I did." T-Dog shrugged. "Hell if I'm gonna hide it from him." he added.

"We could lie." proposed Amy.

And that would be the best option. They would make up a story, that wouldn't make Daryl as angry as the truth would make him, and everyone would be just fine.

But...

Charlie thought about her brothers. If she was in a place like Daryl, she would like to know what really happened. Because that would give her hope. Hope that she will see them again, talk to them again, just be with them. Or confirm that they are dead. Charlie would give everything to know where were her brothers.

"Or tell the truth," she said right after Amy.

"Yeah. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd gotten us killed." said Andrea and looked at Lori. "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it's nobody's fault but Merle's," she added, sure of her opinion of course.

"And that's what we tell Daryl?" asked Dale skeptically. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?" he looked at everyone's faces. He sighed and looked into the fire. "Word to the wise, we're going to have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"I was scared and I ran," said T-Dog. "I'm not ashamed of it."

"We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asked him.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. The staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain. Not that padlock." he said. "My point: Dixon's alive. He's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us."

Charlie's heart fluttered with gratitude as she was lying in the tent, knowing that Glenn was back. The relief washed over her, knowing he was safe. Thoughts swirled in her mind about the newcomer, Rick Grimes, and what his presence might mean for their group. Would he bring trouble or much-needed assistance? It was already clear that his presence bothered Shane, who was an alpha in this camp - and had an affair with Rick's wife. His arrival might disrupt the delicate dynamics within the camp. Would he challenge their leadership? Bring conflicts they couldn't afford? Her mind raced with scenarios, each one more unsettling than the last. But those thoughts faded into the background as she heard the familiar footsteps of her friend Glenn entering the tent. She couldn't see him, only his dark silhouette in the darkness.

"Thank God, I'm here," he whispered, knowing she was awake.

"Yeah. I was worried," she answered. "I thought you died and I will never see you again," Charlie confessed.

Glenn turned in his sleeping bag, so they were facing each other. "I thought it was my last day today," he said. "I thought about you. I almost cried at the thought that Merle Dixon would be the last thing I see."

She chuckled.

"And then I saw this guy dressed in a uniform with a cowboy hat. Riding a horse through Atlanta. Probably every Walker in the city running after him. We saw him getting stuck in a trunk." he said. "I really didn't think much about helping him. I just did."

"You really are a hero Glenn," she said. "You sure you were pizza boy before? Not a Batman or something?"

He rolled his eyes, even though she couldn't see it, but he knew she knew he did it.

Silence fell between them. Both of them breathing calmly.

"What do you think, how will Daryl react?"

Charlie sighed. "I don't know," she said. "We don't know how we should even tell him that. We don't know who should do it. We know nothing."

This time Glen sighed.

"I feel sorry for him. He seems like a good guy."

"Daryl Dixon?"

"Yeah," Charlie said. "He helped me when you were gone. He has good eyes."

"You're like friends now?" asked Glenn.

"I'm not really sure he had any friends. I think Merle is the only one he has ever had." she shared her thoughts with her friend. "That makes this situation even more sad."

Glenn sat up a little, leaning on his elbows.

"You really are worried about Daryl." he more stated than asked.

"I also have brothers...well, had brothers," she said. "We were close like that, so I know what he might feel."

Rhee laid back.

"Then maybe you should tell him," he said before turning his back to her. "Night, Charlie."

"Mmm." She nodded and soon fell asleep.

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#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl dixon twd #daryl the walking dead #daryl dixon series

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quaranmine · 7 months

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Your word-of-god on my theory is driving me UP THE WALL!

Ok, so let me make a timeline here, let me know if I'm wrong at any point.

He leaves his campsite on the 12th for a day hike, taking minimal supplies with him. He gets hopelessly lost and takes temporary shelter under some low-hanging tree limbs for the night.

He finds the mountainside where he fell early on the 13th and, with a pair of binoculars, can see the creek in the distance. Let's say the rangers and medical examiner were correct, and he was heading to the creek because, at this point, he's probably in the early stages of dehydration (his presumed cause of death)

He tries to climb down safely, and we all know how that went. He makes it as far as he can on a broken leg and possibly numerous superficial injuries that wouldn't have been evident a year later for obvious reasons. He takes shelter under the overhang and... never leaves.

Grian reports Mumbo missing on the 16th when he misses checking in.

Grian leaves Colorado and subsequently arrives in Cody, WY to join the search on the 17th and is immediately forcibly subjected to a nap.

At this point, Mumbo has been under that overhang for the better part of five days. If he was already dehydrated, even mildly, before he even fell, and especially if he lost a medically significant amount of blood from any abrasions or lacerations suffered during the fall...

There is a significant probability that Mumbo was already dead by the time Grian joined the search.

Grian never had a chance of finding him alive, did he?

Damn...

OOOO

Okay so your timeline is a bit different than mine. But I'd like to note—my idea of what happened to Mumbo in general is actually pretty vague. It was one of those things where it didn't actually matter much to the plot since it would never fully be known. Also it made me sad to think about LMAO (imagine that.) Actually though? I had a draft of chapter 11 where when Grian was unknowingly retracing Mumbo's steps, it would be intercut with italics/otherwise clearly formatted Mumbo moments. So that you could see both of their stories converge. I scrapped it because I disliked the ~3 paragraphs I'd written for Mumbo and never came back to it.

So, the dates for this can be whatever you want (12th or 13th) since the specifics don't matter much. I think the main difference is that I didn't have Mumbo getting lost as the first step, I had it as the second. This means that I had Mumbo leaving the trail intentionally to get water, and getting lost on the way. In my scenario yes, the rangers were right about him heading to the creek.

I mainly had this idea because of my experiences with backpacking in Big Bend. Namely, it's just....very, very, very hard to bring enough water on a trip like that. So people bring water filters. When hiking the South Rim in Big Bend, you can refill your bottles at Boot Spring (though you shouldn't rely on it having water since it's the desert.) I have done this before. (Pictured: my dad lol)

I figured that Mumbo probably needed to refill his water (Grian stated he left no bottles at camp, not just that they were empty, so he would've brought comparatively a lot for a day hike. So maybe he planned on refilling them later in the day.) I figured that maybe he just....didn't want to completely overshoot his camp to go back to the creek he crossed a day or two before. Maybe he thought his off-trail route was shorter. Maybe he was confident he could find the trail again. It doesn't matter, all that matters is it brought him to the place where he fell. Or maybe, related to what you said—maybe he made this somewhat silly decision because he was already dehydrated.

From that point on, I think the rest of your timeline matches with mine. You are right that they wouldn't be able to tell any other superficial injuries a year later. Actually, I've got no idea if they would be able to tell it was dehyrdation that did it after that long. That's MY idea of what happened. But probably it would have been more accurate for the rangers to file it under a general blanket of exposure/infection from injuries/dehydration.

I can't say if Mumbo was dead or not by the time Grian joined the search. You're 100% correct that it's very possible. The only reason I don't confirm is that I don't know the timeline myself, nor does the timeline really matter that much, since even if he was alive when the search started, it would've only taken a day or two more before he wasn't. And since he wasn't in the search radius....You are right that Grian never had a chance.

But I think it's less sad that way, honestly. Devastating still of course. I just think it's worse to linger for weeks when nobody is looking in the right place.

#also in regards to timelines. it won't matter what's correct if viewed through the lense of outsider pov/general public #cause nobody else but us as writers/readers know the real truth #everyone living inside the story would never know which one of these two timelines in this post were the real one; they'd only have to gues #also i love ur wording of grian being forcibly subjected to nap that's Exactly what happened lol #i think. being involved in SAR. is probably at least partially as much about how you interact with the families as it is the finding #(and grian for this purpose counts as the family)#they're like okay. go get some sleep. we dont need to have to rescue TWO people today!#quara asks #hc_firewatch_au #death tw

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silverlining317 · 2 years

Text

I did Something Bad

Listening to the taylor swift song gave me vibes of doing something bad and enjoying it and I think Ginny thinks the same. Hope you like!

For @Hinnyfest, prompt #2: I did something bad

--------------------------------------------------------------

-"Michael, can I talk to Ginny for a second?"

Of all the people at Hogwarts, if there was someone she didn't expect or want to hear those words from, it was precisely Cho. Michael looked at her for a few seconds trying to figure out what the two girls could possible talk about, before nodding his head and giving her a goofy grin. The same expression that Harry gives Cho each time. Wasn't it enough for her to have a date on Valentine's Day with Harry? She had to hypnotize her boyfriend too? Ginny didn't even try to put on a sympathetic face.

-'' I wanted to talk to you about something delicate''- Cho began sliding her fingers through her soft and shiny hair.

-"Is it about the DA?" -Ginny tried to smile at her.

-'' No, its about Harry actually ''- Cho said blushing- ''I've been thinking about it for days and... He invited me to Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day''

-'' How romantic''- Ginny bit her lip without having the slightest idea what she had done in her life to deserve to endure that conversation.

-'' To tell the truth, I'm a little nervous about it'' - Cho kept twisting her hair- ''There's something that has me insecure and I don't know who I can talk to about it. So I thought of you.''

-''How thoughtful''- Ginny tried to smile-

-'' I know that Harry is very close to your family so maybe he has talked to you about what happened that night with Cedric.''

-'' Bold of you to think that we talk about anything at all''- said Ginny

- ''Aren't you two friends?''- asked Cho

-'' Harry only really has two friends. If you want information about him, you better talk to Ron or Hermione''- Stated Ginny- ''But of course, I wouldn't recommend anyone in their right mind to talk to my brother about anything related to the world of dating. Why don't you go find Hermione instead? She will be more helpful

"Yes, of course, she always knows everything, " Cho said under his breath with very little happiness. Something Ginny couldn't help but notice.

"Harry and Hermione are very close" -Ginny added, watching Cho's eyes take on a jealous streak.

-'' Close''- said Cho- ''I think so, it's impossible to talk to Harry without having to...''

Cho looked up as if suddenly realizing what she had been about to confess.

-'' Cho, I understand you- Ginny said- ''Trust me. I do. It is something that would intimidate anyone. Knowing that they spend all their time together, that she is the only one who he listens to, that he treats her to ice cream and beers and buys her gifts all the time...''

-"Gifts?" -Cho said.

-"Randomly, for no particular reason" -Ginny added- "Like those super expensive binoculars at the Quidditch World Cup even though she doesn't even like Quidditch. But at the end of the day, she's his best friend.''

-''Sometimes it seems like it's more than that''- Cho said and took a deep breath- ''Cedric told me last year they spent all their time together and then you have all this photos and reports. Oh Ginny, it feels so good to finally be able to tell someone about it''

-''Cho''- Ginny took Cho's hand giving it a strong squeeze- ''They're just friends. Harry is desperate for you. So who cares if they spend every summer together and sometimes sleep in the same room when there's no other space? Or if he constantly describes her as the smartest witch he's ever met? It is you who is going out with him. Not her''

"But..." Cho said.

-''I have to go''- Ginny said smiling- ''Good luck on the date! and don't think anymore about the photos of the two of them embracing after the first challenge. It won't do you any good!''

"But..." Cho said.

Ginny ran out of the study hall, forgetting about Michael on the way, with a rush of adrenaline and happiness that could only be matched to flying. Ginny was flying, and maybe that was why she didn't see Harry as she came down the stairs almost knocking them both down.

-"Happy?" -Harry asked with the slightest bit of interest.

-"I just did something bad, and it felt so good," Ginny confessed- "the funniest thing I've done all year."

-"Ah, that's nice"- Harry rearranged the bag on his shoulder and continued his walk without deigning to look at her. a somber expression on his face. For a second Ginny regretted sabotaging the only thing that could make him feel a little less sad.

But if what she did was so bad, why did she still feel so good?

Ginny continued down the stairs, jumping and running, ready to burn off more of that energy trying to tell herself that what she did was bad, but also fun, and that she would make it over and over again.

#hinnyfest #Harry and Ginny #harry x ginny

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teaospin · 2 years

Text

As Ruby and Jaune enjoy a brief respite in the backyard of the RNJR House in mistral, two (somehow well hidden) figures, watch from afar in a bush.

Nora: So… Weiss… *lowers the SDC provided binoculars Weiss gave her*

Weiss: Yes, Nora?

Nora: Care to tell me, again, WHY are we spying on them? Seems rather… I don’t know, out of left field?

Weiss: Why my dear Nora! I thought you said you supported their love back when I first got here with Yang, that you would love to see them rejoice in each other’s arms! That you’ve been rooting for this since you met Ruby!

Nora: Yeah, I DID say that, but I didn’t mean like THIS, I don’t know why we have to hide and stay in a bush for this. You can easily just go say hi to them and watch from THE DOORWAY. *She gestures to large sliding doorway that lead from the training room to the backyard*

Weiss: *Sighs* Look- I’ve been “shipping” those two dorks since I first saw how they acted at lunch on our first week at Beacon, and it’s been a few months since I last saw those two. They’ve been together for awhile now, with you and Ren, alone, no one else, all they had was each other and you two, so- I’ve been DYING to know how far they’ve gon-

Nora: Woah- wha-

Weiss: Not in that sense you degenerate! But in how close are they now? Have they kissed? Has Jaune presented his loyalty to her, bestowed a vow of some kind for her? Has Ruby taken upon the burden of lightening Jaune’s pain and vice versa?

Nora: …

Weiss: …LISTEN, I have been teasing those two to get together for I don’t know HOW long, you remember all those traffic jams and broken airships, messed up room bookings and seating arrangements we’ve had in the past?

Nora: Weiss- no-

Weiss: I HAVE WORKED TO ALLOW THEM TO ACHIEVE THEIR UNION, ON MY OWN DIME.

Nora: …Well… that was your father’s dime-

Weiss: *Finally processes* Ok fine, my father’s dime, but I could have used that money for other purposes regardless!

Nora: Like what, getting Blake with either Sun or Yang?

Weiss: Exactly! I was always so busy going over the expenses for Ruby and Jaune’s stuff that I never had time to work on THAT disaster trio.

Nora: …

Weiss: …

Nora: …Weiss…

Weiss: Yes?

Nora: You DESPERATELY need a hobby, and a partner.

Weiss: I’ll get one after my goals have been achieved.

Nora: …Which one?

Weiss: The one that matters. Now give me those binoculars over there, I think I see their fingers are interlocking a bit more- HOW JUICY.

*Nora reluctantly hands over the binoculars to the antsy Weiss, who eagerly begins to observe Jaune and Ruby as they stand near the ledge of the backyard, gazing into the sunset and clouds of mistral.*

Nora: Weiss, you scare me sometimes.

Weiss: Yes I know, I scare myself sometimes after the high wears off, now let me enjoy this bliss before that happens.

Nora: I’ll… I’ll book you a therapy session with Ren once he gets back… *sighs* I don’t think I can handle another one of these “Dork Sightseeing Missions” of yours anymore, Weiss.

Weiss: Hey- don’t blame me, I wasn’t the pair who moved their relationship further into the romantic sphere while I was gone- I need to catch up on my favorite entertainment!

Nora: And everyone thinks I’m the crazy one…

Weiss: I can still hear you, you know that, right?

Nora: Yes.

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teacherintransition · 4 months

Text

I’m Bird Watching…

No! No …it’s not an old man thing

I’m not old …

Ah, good old self discovery; no one can surprise you more than yourself. Since retiring, I’ve realized I have accumulated various new interests upon changing my world. Writing a great deal, frequenting museums, a decent workout regime are just a few new practices I’ve adopted since the transition. Most get an approving, “atta boy …that’s cool;” but one new pursuit garnered universal laughs from my sons with their determination that, “I’m finally a real, old man!” And, what pray tell was my new interest that relegated me to the ranks of a senior citizen by my compassionate sons? Bird watching.

Hear me out, hear me out; it’s not an old man thing. I swear! Well, damn, it does come across as old doesn’t it. In my younger years, I was jokingly critical of the hobby. I imagined some old dude, with glasses and binoculars and a note pad wearing all khaki. It ain’t a good look. Ive done extremely well avoiding old man talk, but the bird watching thing just kinda came from left field. From where? What is the impetus for such a hobby? Yes, I am working hard to remove the old man stigma; and yes, I doth protest too much. It’s a very convincing concept that intrigues me and feels better than just being old. What if, hear me out, it is part of a greater awareness of the world going on around me. We have time to experience the fullness of all of the vibrancy of life going on around us.

Birds have always shared their song with us; squirrels have always hopped along and climbed trees, clouds have always gently floated in the blue sky and the wind has always rustled through the trees; but we were all so busy with work stuff that we didn’t slow down to appreciate all the magic constantly happening around us. The consequence being that much of our lives were just blurred, rushed images and actions that rarely enhanced the momentary experiences of our lives. If I had slowed down to just watch birds and squirrels, I think I would’ve been a better dad, a more attentive husband and a more patient teacher …a better, happier human. To take the time to look at the colors of birds, how they fly through the air, their small meaningful mannerisms help us realize that so many more enriching things happen daily around us than those stresses that invade our peace of mind. To stop every thing that torments and replace it with birdsong, that is a practice that we all could benefit from. Taking the time to watch a bird glide beautifully across a blue sky could all lift our spirits.

I hear the song now as I sit to do my writing on this spring day. They sang during my thirty year career, they floated across the sky from 1990-2020, but to my regret, I didn’t always take the time to see and to hear. I encourage you to stop, breathe, rest, listen and look at the things occurring all around you everyday. Take the time to see the immense joy of these occurrences a little more. Of course, you’ll have to slow down a little bit and you don’t have to wait until you retire.

#open mind #retirement #coffetime #stress #change #teacher #i need friends #health #writing #education #birds #bird photography #birdwatching

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lustfangs · 1 year

Note

Heya. Hope you don't mind an expansion upon that Stalker idea you posted lately. ---

You come home tired, like every day, and close the door behind you. Tossing the keys on the table, you grab a glass of water and walk over to the sitting room, collapsing into the couch as you just need a bit of rest. You switch the TV on, slide out some leftover chocolate, and finish the few squares as the mid-episode ads roll. You take a look out the window, into the darkening evening. You don't see the shining pair of eyes fixed on your silhouette. How could you, afterall? They hide behind shaded binoculars, across the street and up a pitch-black floor. But those eyes most certainly see you - and wink, in satisfaction, as your hand begins to slide between your legs. Just like always.

All these damn ads on your TV, and you just watch to watch your new show, it's not like it's your fault that you need to pass the time somehow - nor is it your fault that, a minute later, you're breathless and humping your own hand, heedless of the fact the ad break has finished. All your dumb head wants now is pleasure, and needy whore that you are, you're making sure to give it to yourself.

A fleeting thought passes your mind. I left my dildo upstairs. And yet when you start to rise, you spot it placed under your coffee table, not at all where you remember it being. Oh well. You don't exactly care at the moment, fucking yourself on that thick piece, moaning quietly, scattered breaths yearning for someone to come and really fuck you - rape you, even, do it so hard you start to cry.

'Cause you can't push yourself that far. You rock back and forth, you bounce up and down, you rub away at your clit with one hand while the other fucks you full of plastic. Too bad you don't have any of that cum lube lef--

Except, there's a bottle of it. It's just at the edge of your vision, standing on a stool.

You definitely don't remember putting it there. Because yesterday, you ran out of it.

Almost falling over in your haste to fill yourself up, you snatch it off the stool and grab the pump next to it, hastily topping up your toy and putting it together properly this time. It's not even properly mounted yet, and you're already riding that fake cock, each bounce squeezing out a trickle of lube, seeing as you've overfilled it again. Both hands fighting to mash your clit, you sit down, hard, and squirt everywhere. The orgasm washes over you like a wave, knocking your thoughts clean out for a solid minute, as you sit there, pussy full of dick and mouth out. Muttering, moaning, mouthing words of thanks.

Your watcher sees it all. There are hands on a stiff cock, in that room across the road, hands which want ever so badly to grip your skin. To leave long scratches down your back, and marks around your neck. Unlike you, your watcher stops. Today seems like as good a day as any. Might even ask. That would be nice - if you said, "yes".

You push yourself off the dildo, clenching to not spill anything, and only now, finally, does it hit you. Somebody's been in your house. Somebody put your dildo exactly where you wanted it. Somebody bought you new lube, exactly the brand you always get. Hands growing numb, you walk over to the kitchen.

Somebody left you food. It's thick and meaty and still warm. You tell yourself that food can stay warm for hours after cooking. It's not a terribly comforting thought.

You look outside, furtively scanning the road. But of course, nobody is there. Nobody is ever there. Even then, you swipe your blinds closed, blocking any would-be watcher from seeing any more. Too bad you don't know it's too late.

You eat.

What else were you to do, leave perfectly good food to go to waste? Your money hasn't vanished, and a free meal is a free meal! Except... the food is exactly how you like it.

Exactly. How. You. Like. It.

You check the cooler. Yep, it's your favourite kind of booze. The kind your grandma used to bring over from wherever she used to travel. It's even got her name on it. You haven't seen her in six months.

But you're full. And now - as you pull out the cork - you're about to get drunk and try to forget all this.

You're about 4 glasses in, perfectly tipsy, when a knock on the door makes you scream. Breathe. It could just be the mailman... right? Even still, you snatch up a rolling pin and heft it dangerously, slowly approaching the door and-- It's just your neighbour, the guy who's always in his garden, holding a packet of something.

"How did you like your presents?"

The rolling pin crashes to the floor, yet you barely hear it. The world seems to rock, the air to twist, as he lets himself into your house, swiping the hat off his head and looking nervously about for where to put it. You couldn't care less, taking a half-step back as he nods and tosses it on a chair. It's him? You can't seem to grasp a coherent thought, and it's a few seconds before you realise he's spoken again.

"I mean, of course, I saw you the whole time, so I know you liked them but... I'd like to hear from you, you know?"

You can't breathe. Your heart feels like it's stopped, and you can't force air into your lungs. You've never been so utterly terrified - this nervous, small man is your stalker? How much does he know? Does he know everything?

"Ah well, I know you liked it. But... ah, I do want to ask..."

The corners of the room are beginning to grow dim, dark spots dancing across your vision, as your legs give way and you fall to your knees. The shock starts up those lungs of yours, and you take a single, loud breath. You stare at this monster, trying to muster up any kind of sound. Other than a low whimper of fear.

"Can I... fuck you? Please? I've wanted to do it for ages now, you know? You're such a slut. I mean, I see you fucking yourself every day, and every day you're begging for someone else to do it for you, no?"

Ice trickles down your spine. You're already on your knees; you're already tipsy, growing more inebriated by the second as that fourth glass starts to hit, and you are just so, so scared. He nods in satisfaction, relief even, and you wonder why - for a moment.

Oh. Oh God. You just said yes.

uhhh part 1 of 2, I don't have the wherewithal to finish this tonight. Have a good one, vamp. - 𝄞

Oh my god anon. Where’s part 2 . WHERE’S PART 2

#* zel answers.

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sayuricorner · 2 years

Text

ROTTMNT x Monkie Kid crossover prompt idea: Teenage Mutant Ninja Monkey - EXTRA 2 - Snippets dialogues

Warning: English is not my first language so sorry if it’s confusing.

Here’s a bunch of snippets for my ROTTMNT x Monkie Kid prompt! ^^

The first one is a rewrite of a dialogue from the first ROTTMNT episode while others are 100% made by your truly! ^^

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From the episode “Mystic Mayhem”

Raphael: "We just defeated a boss villain! We're heroes! We deserve a name like "Mad Dogs"!"

(The turtles, Sandro, April, and Mayhem look to the side in dramatic poses as the name "Mad Dogs" flashes across the screen and a dramatic music sting plays.)

Leonardo: "Mad Dogs? You don't think something like "Ninja Mutant Turtle Teens" or - I don't know. Maybe -”

Sandro: “Hum-hum!”(Sandro interrupt Leo with a fake cough and stared at his brother with a deadpan expression while his tail is pointing at April and Mayhem.)

Leonardo: “Riiiiigggghhhhttt... We'll keep brainstorming."

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Distraction:

Raphael: “Okay guys! We had to infiltrate this building without getting caugh! All we need is a distraction!”

Sandro: “Oh! Me! Me!Me!Me!Me! Pick me Raph please! Please!Pleeaaasssseeee!”

Raphael: “Okay! Okay! But please try to be subtle Sandie! We can’t create too much of a commotion!”

(Spongebob voice off)

*A few minutes later*

(Poeple are screaming in confusion as they fall through shadow holes and are thrown out of the building, from inside the vents the Mad dogs are looking at the scene with wide eyes.)

Raphael(whisper loudly at Sandro): “You call that ‘subtle”?!”

Sandro: “Well, the panic “subtly” keep those people from noticing us!”

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Debate:

Leonardo: “Come on Sandie, you know I’m right!”

Sandro: “Uh, na-ha! Absolutly not!”

Leonardo: “Yes, you do!”

Sandro: “There’s no way that hawaiian pizza is the best pizza existing!”

Leonardo: “How?! You love pinapples! You love pizzas! I’ts the best of both worlds how can’t you like it?”

Sandro: “Just because I like both doesn’t mean I like them mixed together! I mean pinapple with margarita sauce and cheese? blerg!”

Donatello: “Sorry to interrupt this "interresting discussion" but we're litteraly in the middle of a fight so can you PLEASE report this debate to later?”

(In the background a giant plant monster is rampaging around, it holding in its tentacules Raphael and Mikey who are screaming for their lives)

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"Negociator"

Leonardo : “Don't worry hermanos! I'll do the talk with Big Mamma, I'm the face man after all!”

Raphael : “Yeeeaaaahh... Maybe take Sandro with you for the talk? You know just to be sure!”

Michelangelo : “Yeah dude! Sandie is like a master manipulator! He could help to avoid any trick!”

Sandro(Fake shocked gasp): “A manipulator? Me? Honestly, this is very exagerated!(smirk) I prefer the word "negociator".

Donatello: “Like the time you "negociate" with this pizzaiolo to give us free pizzas by telling him that the foot clan ninjas we were fighting in his pizzaria were send by a rival pizzaiolo who wanted to sabotage him?”

Sandro: “Hey! It was a thank you gift, it would have be rude to refuse! And I didn't see you complain about the free pizzas!”

Donatello : “... Touché! “

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"Cowabunga"

Donatello(looking through his binocular) : “So, looks like Hypno had decided to crash this Magic show and is now making a mess!”

Raphael : “Well if he want messy he's gonna get it! Okay, here's how we're gonna do this-”

Leonardo : “Uh, Raph? Mikey and Sandie already beat you to it!”

Michelangelo and Sandro(Jumping from the bulding roof while telling excited): “COWABUNGA !!!”

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"YOU!"

Sun Wukong and Macaque (When seeing Draxum): “YOU!!!”

Draxum (Deadpan): “And here we go... (Get tackled by the two angry monkies) Gha!”

Sun Wukong (Furious): “Give us ONE good reason why we shouldn’t pound your head in the ground repeatetly?”

Draxum (Speak with difficulty): “Well, maybe I could think of something if I hadn’t two staffs pressed against my throat!”

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Taunt

(Raph, Leo, Mikey and Sandro look deadpanned and confused at Donnie and Red Son showing off their tech to each other, beackering and wierdly taunting each other)

Mikey: “Am I the only the only one who is wondering is they’re taunting each other or flirting?”

Sandro: “I... Don’t know...”

Leonardo: “Is there really a difference?”

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Better than me (warning: angst and sad fluff, rottmnt movie spoilers)

(Sandro is sitting on a cliff on Flowers Fruits Mountain, looking sadly at the horizon, Sun Wukong appeared from behind him and sit by his side)

Sun Wukong: “Heyyyyyyy... There you are bud! I knew I would find you there!”

Sandro: “...”

Sun Wukong: “You know, you ran off rather spontaneously! Your family and the others were worried!”

Sandro: “...”

Sun Wukong (Sigh): “If this is about today’s training, honestly you shouldn’t think too much about it! You were-”

Sandro: “I was bad at this!”

Sun Wukong: “Hey! Don’t be like that! Sure you still had a lot to learn, but I wouldn’t say you were bad!”

Sandro: “But I was! During the whole session I made a fool of myself and I didn’t made any progress!”

Sun Wukon: “Come on bud! It’s okay! It’s just the begening, you will end up progressing!”

Sandro (frustrated): “You don’t understand! In my family I’m the Sneaky Guy! I’m the one who’s supposed to be on the look out for possible ennemies, traps and dangers! I’m supposed to see things coming and anticipate any threat and to be fast and strong enough to face them to help my family to protect themself, to protect them! But too many times I’m taken short and end up need to be saved! Even when the Kraangs attacked, I got caugh and used as a living batery before I could warn the others and I was the one who needed to be saved! All this because I wasn’t fast and strong enough! And I’m supposed to be the clone of two of the most powerful monkies existing and I’m not even able to control my powers! I even get stuck in my own shadows! If I can’t do any of that! If I can’t even help to protect the ones I love... What am I? What good am I for? I’m... (sigh and curled himself) I’m really a disappointment!”

Sun Wukong: “Kid... Don’t say that about yourself! I know it can be frustrating but that doesn’t mean you’ll not manage to control your habilities! You’re young and still had a lot to learn! MK also had difficulties when he forst became my successor! Heck when I was your age I was still learning! Sure, I was a first learner but that doesn’t mean you must be one too! Everyone had their own pace and you just need to go at your own! So don’t beat yourself about it! You’re not a disappointment, no one think this of you! Not me, not Macaque not MK and the others and certainly not your family! And you know what? There’s even one thing you are WAY better at than me! A very important one!”

Sandro (Confused): “How could I be better than you in something?”

Sun Wukong (Smile sadly): “... You keep your ties with your loved ones strong!”

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TAG LIST:

@alexglitches , @princlingofthecrastle

#Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #lmk #rottmnt sandro #rottmnt oc #lmk oc #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #sun wukong #red son #snippet #dialogues

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