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ynscrazylife · 3 years

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I was thinking maybe a oneshot where B!D gets poisoned by Cadmus?

Sisterly Instincts

Summary: Y/N is Kryptonian who landed on Earth a few years after Kara. When CADMUS kidnaps her, they inject her with a poison made out of their version of Kryptonite, which is very harmful to her.

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PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/mundodeseriess

Image ID: Alex and Kara sitting together. Alex has her eyes closed, head on Kara’s shoulder, arm wrapped around her, and is looking upset. Kara is wearing her glasses and is looking down, crying. End ID.

“Alex, have you heard from Y/N yet today?” Kara asked as she entered the DEO, a slight frown on her face still evident from the morning.

Alex shook her head no. “Not since last night, why?” She asked, coming down the stairs and joining her sister in her walk.

Kara shrugged it off. “She just didn’t send me her usual good morning text . . . She’s probably fine, right?” The blonde answered, now feeling silly as she voiced the worry that had been slowly eating at her.

Alex’s warm chuckle calmed her almost instantly. “Yeah, it’s nothing. We’ll see her soon as she’s coming into the DEO anyway,” she reasoned, assuming their younger sister had just overslept.

They reached the main room where J’onn and the other DEO agents sat at their desks and immediately the Danvers’ sisters got to work.

However, when it was ten minutes past the time Y/N was supposed to arrive, Alex decided to give her a call, biting her lip. She discreetly pressed her phone to her ear, turning away so she wouldn’t cause her sister unnecessary worry.

It ringed.

And ringed.

“Hey! You’ve reached Y/N Danvers. Sorry I couldn’t answer! Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.” Alex cursed quietly when it rang so long it went to voicemail and huffed to clear her mind and steady herself.

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Alex. I’m sure you just overslept or are rushing to work,” she said, pausing to chuckle when the image of her younger sister running around the city popped into her mind, “Just give me a call when you get this. Love you, bye!”

Despite the small worry entering the pit of her stomach, Alex reminded herself that Y/N being late and missing a phone wasn’t too uncommon, and she resumed her work.

"Alex?” Kara said, and Alex looked up from her computer to see her sister gesturing at the clock with a nod. The brunette looked over, and felt that pit sink lower when she saw that 20 minutes had passed. Getting no message from Y/N, Alex and Kara shared a look, coming to a silent decision.

“We're gonna go by Y/N’s apartment and check on her,” Alex informed J’onn as she stood up from her chair and grabbed her coat. She couldn't keep herself from remembering that Y/N should be here right now, she didn't live far away.

Kara nodded, following her older sister, and the two women left the DEO, neither of them discussing their worries in fear of distressing the other one. Great minds do think alike, though, and that’s why they both internally came to the conclusion that if nothing was wrong and they found Y/N sleeping late, they were gonna be pissed (however they hoped that was what they found instead of the scary alternatives brewing and stirring in their minds).

When they reached Y/N’s apartment, Kara knocked on the door. They waited almost a minute and when the door didn't open and they didn’t hear anything, Alex fished the key Y/N had given to her out of her pocket and unlocked the door.

Stepping inside, the women were prepared to search the house like they were on a mission, when a paper on the floor, having been slipped under the door, caught their attention. Sharing a look, Kara grabbed the paper and unfolded it. It read:

“Hello, Supergirl,

I won’t lie. I don’t know your ‘secret identity’. However, I was able to find out Y/S/N’s, so it’s only a matter of time before I find yours, too. Come to these coordinates: [pretend there’s random coordinates] by 12:00 alone and allow us to experiment and test on you. If you fail to do that, I won’t give Y/N the cure to the Kryptonite poison that’s in her system and I’ll reveal her identity to the world.

-- CADMUS.”

For a couple moments, Kara and Alex stood, glued to the spot. Thoughts and emotions washed over their bodies: concern for their sister, anger at CADMUS, and an utter helplessness since they didn’t know what to do.

It was a little past 10:00 now and when the two got back to the DEO, they made a plan with J’onn. He’d disguise himself as Kara and would do as the letter said and they’d have DEO agents - including Alex and Kara - stationed around the building with cloaking devices, which would make them invisible to CADMUS and their tech. Winn would hack into CADMUS’ tech and after Y/N was given the cure, the DEO agents would act.

At 10:30, the DEO agents were stationed around the base, invisible, and J’onn had walked into the base itself, disguised as Kara. He noticed the Kryptonite around the room, there to weaken Kara, so he put on an act: pretending that it was hurting him. He barley refrained from rushing over to Y/N when he saw the woman who was like a daughter to him siting on a chair, weak and only half-conscious, sweat shining on her face with Lillian Luthor standing beside her.

“Good, you came,” Lillian said with a sadistic smile.

“Yes. Now give Y/S/N the cure,” J’onn said, putting on his best Supergirl face.

The corners of Lillian’s mouth turned into a smirk and she walked over to another chair a few feet away, which had Kryptonite restraints. “Sit,” she said calmly, although the way she stood, her hands delicately placed on the chair, brought power to the lonely word.

J’onn complied, frowning as he walked over to the chair and sat down, letting Lillian put the restraints on his wrists and ankles that she thought would weaken him. For extra effect, J’onn sucked in a breath and faked pain.

Lillian smugly turned around and walked back to Y/N, who didn’t seem to realize what was going on. The older woman gestured to one of her minions and they promptly injected a serum into Y/N’s neck, making the youngest Danvers’ gasp just the slightest before her eyes fluttered close.

“The antidote is taking its affect in her system,” Lillian informed J’onn before turning back to her minion. “Take the girl outside. She can find her way back.”

The man nodded and picked Y/N up, slinging her over his shoulder and walked out. The second J’onn heard a smash and knew that his team had acted, he gave Lillian no time to be on alert before he ripped off the restraints and knocked all of the CADMUS agents out.

. . . . . . . . .

Alex and Kara had been standing outside, listening to Lillian and J’onn’s interaction through their earpieces. The women were both racked with worry over their little sister and when they saw the man carrying her, it took everything in them both to wait until he carelessly dropped her on the floor. When he did, Kara revealed herself and knocking him unconscious into a wall. Alex then revealed herself as well, hearing J’onn fighting, and ran to Y/N while the rest of the DEO agents went inside to erase CADMUS’ memory of Y/N’s identity and to make arrests.

“Y/N, Y/N! Come on, wake up,” Alex said, slightly panicked as she gently rolled Y/N from where she was laying on her side to be on her back. Kara, after making sure the guy was unconscious, sped over.

Kara knitted her brown together and drew her lips into a line, silently gathering her sister into her arms. Alex glanced up at her, tears in her eyes, for she knew Kara was only silent when she was very worried.

“I’ll meet you back at the DEO,” Kara said quietly, her tone almost emotionless, before lifting off and flying into the air. Alex swallowed and took a breath, getting to her feet.

. . . . . . . . .

As she flew through the air, Kara battled to keep distracting thoughts about the clouds and the breeze away, as she knew she had to focus on her unconscious sister. Y/N was the priority. Once she landed at the DEO, she immediately headed to the med bay, where doctors took over and Kara informed him that Y/N had supposedly been given the antidote.

After almost ten minutes of Kara pacing just outside the door and Winn doing his best to comfort her, the doctors informed them that the antidote was indeed in Y/N’s system and it was fighting off the poison. They didn’t know when she would wake up but when she did, she would need to rest a lot as she’d be weak. They were also unsure if CADMUS had done anything else to her, so she’d need to stay at the DEO overnight if she didn’t wake up soon.

The doctors allowed Kara to see her so the blonde sat by her sister’s side, holding her hand until Alex burst in, looking out-of-breath.

“How is she?” Alex asked, sitting on Y/N’s other side and taking her free hand.

Kara told her what the doctors said and they collectively let out a breath, relieved that she was going to be alright. They stayed with Y/N for another hour, silent except for the occasional comment, when Y/N started blinking her eyes open.

The agent and the superhero both sat up, patiently waiting for Y/N to wake up and adjust herself.

“Alex? Kara?” Y/N croaked out, looking at her sisters in a haze of confusion.

Both women smiled and let out happy tears, helping her to sit up before wrapping their arms around her. Y/N smiled, leaning her head against Kara’s neck.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Alex whispered.

“It’ll never happen again,” Kara promised.

Y/N nodded. She didn’t say anything in response, finding herself too tired after the day’s events. Kara and Alex stayed until she fell asleep and then they reluctantly left her under the watchful eye of Winn, since they needed to debrief with J’onn and prepare for when Y/N would come home.

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @sybil-moon-is-a-mess @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgrath @celestialbarnes

DCEU Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @basiclesbianbitch @extraordinary-fangrl @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok @harrypottercumslut

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thefloatingstone · 3 years

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(While we don't cross the line) 1: Final Fantasy 9 PS1 ISO and emulator - free Steam - $20 Classic JRPG with a upbeat and optimistic adventure to overthrow corrupt monarchy with deeper themes of self identity, death, and life affirmation.

2: Yakuza 0 and Yakuza 6 Steam - $20 each Open world Action Beat 'em up.... TECHNICALLY. Yakuza games are about the extra content. From Rhythm game karaoke, to slot car racing, to hostess bar management sim, to dating sim, to Idol manager sim, the list is endless. Yakuza 0 follows Kazuma Kiryu as he enters the world of Japanese organized crime focused on a singular district in 1980s Japan. It's a heavy crime drama that will swing from comedy in one mission to hard hitting gritty emotions the next. Yakuza 6 sees the end of Kazuma Kiryu's involvement with the Yakuza in the same district, now in modern day, as he tries to free himself from his past and live out his future with his adopted daughter. Playing 0 and 6 back to back creates a very melancholic feeling as you can feel the age of the district as it goes from the neon filled, dirty seedy "bad part of Tokyo" into a sleek, clean, modern metropolis.

3: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic Steam - $10 Despite being a Star Wars game, KOTOR plays more like the older Neverwinter Nights games with its combat, relying on "select type of attack" and "click enemy target" type controls. (As opposed to an action game requiring quick reflexes from the player). Developed by Bioware before they went on to make Mass Effect and Dragon Age, WAY before being bought by EA, KOTOR is considered one of the best non-movie stories in the Star Wars universe, full of grey morality, complex characters with well written motivations, a morality system that's more complex than just "super hero or baby killer" and an in depth look into the deeper workings of the Star Wars universe post Prequels but pre original Trilogy. (the sequel which is even better is also on Steam for $10) I am unsure if the GOG version is better or not but it's the same price)

4: 13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim (Currently $30 on PS4) I still need to get 13 Sentinels and everyone who has played it has told me to go in knowing as little as possible. All I have been told is "It's Sci fi. ALL sci fi. Every sci fi trope in one game" It plays like a tactical game but I have also been told "if the look of the gameplay turns you off please don't let it! Just play it!" So there's that.

5: Grandia PS1 ISO and Emulator - free Steam - $10 +- Another Classic JRPG from the 90s, the Emulated ISO version has an "undub" that removes the poor quality english dub and re-instates the original Japanese voices but keeps all the english text. Grandia is another upbeat, positive adventure story following 3 kids, Justin, Feena and Sue as they leave their hometown to go see if there's anything beyond the Great Wall which circles the whole world, in the process uncovering political corruption, ancient civilizations, unknown countries and cultures, and long gone ancient technologies. If you like the Ghibli movie "Castle in the Sky" you'll like Grandia. I do not recommend the steam version which has an ugly filter over all of the graphics and the presentation in widescreen breaks a lot of the battles

I tried to add more images after this but tumblr kept breaking the post and after like 6 tries fuck it.

6: Atelier Escha & Logy: Alchemists of the Dusk Sky DX Steam - (unsure, Steam's price is coming up weird for me in $) Part classic JRPG, part time management, part recipe game, Escha & Logy is one of the better instalments in the Atelier game series where you play as an alchemist who needs to gather ingredients, develop potions, poisons and weapons for clients, and fulfil their orders within a certain time limit. Despite the Time Limit, the Atelier games are consistently described as calming and "feel good". Ryza is the latest in the series but I'm recommending Escha and Logy due to its setting. The Dusk trilogy (don't worry each game is for the most part completely stand alone) takes place in a world thousands of years after the fall of a great civilization, and the natural world is slowly dying due to unknown reasons. So of curse part of the story is to find out why this is happening... but for the most part you're just playing as a duo of alchemists trying to do your best.

7: Drakengard PS2 ISO and Emulator - free

The game where you ride a dragon in aerial battles, fight mass armies on the ground a bit like Dynasty Warriors... and where EVERY SINGLE ENDING is a "bad ending". The game with no happy endings and every character in your party is objectively a horrible person for different reasons. literally ALL the triggers for this game. But if you want a game that's going to horrify you and make you supremely uncomfortable without it actually being a horror game.... this is the one.

Also one of its endings is what starts the NieR timeline which includes NieR Automata.

It sucks! I recommend it!

8: Hylics 2 Steam - $15 I have no idea how to describe Hylics 2.It KIND OF plays like a JRPG in that the fight sequences are turn based combat... but there's no leveling system. Also it looks like this.

Just play it. You don't need to play Hylics 1 to play 2. 9: Mother 3 GBA ROM and Emulator - free Just because Nintendo refuses to translate it doesn't mean there isn't an extensive fan translation of Mother 3 for YEARS no to the point of it being available as a hard cartridge on Etsy. One of the big inspirations for Undertale, Mother 3 uses a similar but not completely the same battle system as Earthbound (also similar to Undertale's Battle system minus the bullet hell) but with a rhtythm aspect in it as well. Anyway Mother 3 is renowned to completely shatter your heart into a million pieces and make you cry so also highly recommended.

10: Disco Elysium Steam - $25 I haven't played it yet (I'm going to maybe this week) but everyone says it has some of the best writing ever in a game. I'll have to see what I think about that. However I hear it can be pretty grim. So just be aware of that.

#long post #video games

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jann-the-bean · 3 years

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Doodles!

Alright so here are the doodles of the role play I did with @help-im-a-gay-fish

I tried to blur out the text and other things but I just didn’t like how it looked

So I ended up cutting it into different parts and decided to write the dialogue underneath each section

I also added numbers to which area I’d like you to read/ focus on because since they were doodles I didn’t care for the order but well I tried my best and I hope it makes sense!

Because tumblr is dumb I can only post 10 images at one time so I will reblog the full images shortly after this post <3

Ok so for the doodles to make sense I guess I should give a little insight.

So gayfish and I came up with a headcanon. It’s based off of Gayfish’s headcanon that Nightmare and Killer fought a lot and had breaks that could last months. At some point Killer got involved with someone who got super possessive and started to blackmail Killer into being with them even though Killer was in a happy relationship with Ccino and Nightmare. So he’s been trying to sneak around until finally he gets caught by nightmare.

I might have forgotten something but I will correct it when gayfish sees this as well so they can let me know

1.) Nightmare: Killer you’ve been acting strange recently... sneaking around... and how you are around your phone... Spill it something is up

*Killer’s slips his phone into his pocket but there’s a notification that Killer had received a new message*

2.) Killer: Nothing Nightlight... I swear...

*Nightmare notices that Killer obviously and suspiciously hid his phone*

3.) Nightmare: .....

4.) Nightmare: Show me your phone.

5.) Killer: No, it’s my phone you have your own

6.) Nightmare: Are... are you hiding something from us..?

*Killer’s phone buzzes*

7.) Killer: No, you need to stop being so worried. Don’t you trust me?

8.)Nightmare: Killer... you’re making it very difficult to trust you right now... all this... *realization hits*

9.) Nightmare: Oh stars please... killer... don’t tell me...

10.) Killer: Don’t tell you?

11.) Nightmare: I went poly for you... you said that’s what you needed...

Killer: Please listen to me... You have to trust me... Please Nightingale?

12.) Nightmare: Stop calling me that!!!

13.) Nightmare: You know what? I’m honestly not surprised. But I can’t believe you’d do this to Ccino! I finally warm up to him and you go and f*cking around? Seriously..!?

14.) Nightmare: .......

You know what? I might’ve believed you if you said Ccino messaged you.... but the thing is... you didn’t... you didn’t say that... So it’s not him.... is it..?

15.) Killer: ...... it..... it’s not.....

But Nightli- Nightmare it’s not what you think

16.) Nightmare: not what I think..?

Then what am I supposed to think Killer!? Because you’re not telling me a damn thing! What am I supposed to think?

17.) Nightmare: What am I.... what am I going to tell Ccino.. Killer..?

Was it worth it?

18.) Killer: Wait Nightmare please! Wait... listen it’s really not

I promise I don’t want to hurt you anymore

19.) Nightmare: .....

Then talk to me! What else am I supposed to think?

20.) Nightmare: You’ve been acting strange for days. Sneaking around, hiding your phone... Hell I’m sure Ccino’s noticed too!

Let me help you...

21.) Killer: ...... I..... I... I.... ...........

22.) Nightmare: Killer.... please.... I want to help...

23.) Killer: .......

*slips phone out*

..... y-you’ll hate me... you’ll be disappointed and disgusted

24.) Nightmare: You don’t know that... just give me a chance... please....

I’m sure it’s not that bad...

25.) Nightmare:......... *He is reading messages*

26.) *Nightmare’s sockets go dark*

27.) Nightmare: ....... *Hands phone back to Killer*

Killer: ......

28.) Killer *avoids eyes* Its someone I used to see when we were on long breaks...

But they got a bit possessive... and not in a cute way like you

29.) *Nightmare let’s out a breathe*

*Slap*

Nightmare: Thats for being an ass and making me worry...

30.) Nightmare: But Im glad I was wrong this time...

....

31.) Nightmare: I can see how they’re a problem

32.) Nightmare: I’m pretty sure what they’re doing is illegal...

It’s basically extortion. We need to get the cops involved.

33.) Killer: You aren’t going to leave me...?

Nightmare: No..... I’m not going to leave you....

But that doesn’t mean I’m not upset

34.) Killer: Night..... I love you....

35.) *Kiss*

36.) Killer: .....

Sorry I didn’t say it sooner...

Nightmare: Yeah.... you better be...

.....

Killer I....

37.) Nightmare: I love you too

38.) Killer: *presses their foreheads together* Heh..... That took a long time.....

Nightmare: Maybe a little too long....

39.) Killer: I wouldn’t have it any other way

That’s the end of the doodles! As I said in a previous post this would have been the first time they confused because I agree with @help-im-a-gay-fish idea that Killer and Nightmare were never good with love and even if they realized they did love each other they never outright said it until now

Studioverse by @zu-is-here

Killer by @rahofy-sketch

Nightmare by @jokublog

As I mentioned in the previous post hard to see the outfits but they are @yuriyuruandyuraart design! (I also know you wanted to see this yuri!)

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trixree · 3 years

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Feminist, Queer, Playboy, Philanthropist: Why Ironman Belongs to the Shes, Gays, and Theys

Introduction:

This material originally comes from a media critique project I did for an undergrad philosophy course and I've attempted to adapt it into a tumblr post that doesn't make your eyes bleed. I may or may not have been successful. Upfront, I'm giving you a trigger warning for discussion of sexual assault/rape. If you'd like to skip that part of the analysis, mind the red content warning [start/end].

Trix, what are you up to today? Well, I’d like to present an alternative narrative interpretation of the capstone of the MCU. At face value, Tony Stark shows us a wise-cracking, suave, and hyper-masculine superhero. His soundtrack is AC/DC and he arrives on the battlefield in a shower of gold sparks and hydraulics, wearing sunglasses that cost more than my uterus would fetch on the black market. However, this character presents us with so much more than just a hyper-masculine caricature of straight, cis heroism. Not only does he embody typically “feminine” film tropes—such as the hypersexualized “fighting-fucktoy” role, the policing of his body and promiscuity, and the climactic “rape scene” in which his predatory father-figure drugs him and steals his “heart”—additionally, he embodies classically queer film tropes. Unlike most male action-movie protagonists, his story line is an identity crisis at heart, culminating in a climactic “coming out” scene. His character is promiscuous and spurned for it, and camp is a constant underlying theme in his character design as a whole. I explore these themes in two main parts: the femme and the queer. We'll start with the femme.

Hyper-Masculinity & Tony Stark

In order to understand the subversive nature of Tony Stark, we must first establish the typical nature of hyper-masculine and the hyper-feminine character tropes. Before we can ask the question, “how is this character coded as femme?'' We must first ask, “how is this character coded as masc?”. Further, what do these tropes tell the audience about those characters? Ultimately, the hypermasculine caricature lends power to the subject while the hyperfeminine caricature strips the subject of all agency.

Hypermasculinity is defined, generally, as the exaggerated portrayal or the reinforcement of “typically male stereotypes” (typical male meaning, in this context, that of a Westernized man) such as aggression, strength and power (both physcial and otherwise), as well as sex appeal, and integrity. Hypermasculinity takes a keen focus on the physical male form as a dominating force (1). A hypermasculine character, then, would be one that portrays a domineering, powerful man that is above his peers in some way, and is sexually desirable, in that he exemplifies a pornified picture of a male physique. This desirable and desiring caricature of manhood “socializes boys to believe that being a man means being powerful and in control” (2).

In contrast to this idea of hypermasculinity is the media’s typical portrayal of women. The typical hyperfeminine characterization of women in media is that of a passive, pretty, and overtly sexualized side-character with little agency or autonomy within the story. This is true of both blockbuster hits starring men and movies starring women, too. “We had many more interesting characters on screen in the '20s, '30s, '40s than we do now… They could be the femme fatale and then turn around and be the mother and then turn around and be the seductress, and then turn around and be the saint, and we accepted that. They were complex human beings” (2). This is no longer the case for a typical role for women on screen.

The documentary Miss Representation (2) presents a common caricature that a woman in Hollywood might find herself portraying. Action movies with a female lead surely must exhibit agency in their own story lines. However, the female-action-movie-lead is dubbed the “fighting fucktoy” by Miss Representation. Although she makes her own decisions and it is her narrative that drives the story, she primarily exists as eye-candy. Thus, even the “fighting fucktoy” is just that to audiences--a “fucktoy”. She may be “strong” but primarily, she must be pretty. The MCU character Black Widow perfectly exemplifies the “fighting fucktoy”. Her physical strength may be unquestioned, but primarily it is her beauty that is the focus on-screen. Never do we see her fighting in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Even outside of the skin-tight deep-vee catsuit, Black Widow’s plain clothes outfits consist of tight jeans and even tighter shirts.

This is true for both hyperfeminine and hypermasculine stories. Both the men and women starring in mainstream productions are expected to exemplify a western ideal of peak beauty standards at all times. However, where the hypersexualization of male’s bodies is associated with power, dominance, and strength, the sexualization of women’s bodies is linked to submission, frailty, and possession. Hence the name, “fighting fucktoy”. Her beauty does not make her powerful, it makes her a “toy”, an object, a possession. The sexualization of men in media gives them power within their narratives. For women, it does the complete opposite. It makes them objects, even when they are strong. Beauty and sex make them the victims of their own stories. Ultimately, the hypermasculine male character is envied and emulated, not coveted.

Ironman: Femme Fatale

The storyline of the first Iron Man movie is one concerned with bodily autonomy in a way typically reserved for women--Tony Stark is presented as a fighting fucktoy with an unattainable heart. Not only that, he must struggle against the literal policing of his body by friends, family, and government agencies alike. This subversive, unexpected feminine story culminates in the pinnacle “rape scene” wherein a trusted older-male drugs and assaults Tony in order to take advantage of his “body”, the arc-reactor.

Let’s examine Tony’s coded “fighting fucktoy” persona in two parts: the “fighting” and the “fucktoy”. Miss Representation identifies what female leadership often looks like in movies. “When it comes to female leaders in entertainment media, we see the bitchy boss who has sacrificed family and love to make it to where she is” (2). Odd as it may seem, this perfectly encapsulates the metaphorical role of the arc reactor powering the Iron Man suits. First and foremost, the reactor represents Tony Stark’s heart. Not only is it literally located within his heart for the purpose of keeping it intact, it represents his rebirth as a caring, philanthropic man--it encapsulates Stark’s “fight”. Before his kidnapping and the subsequent implanting of the reactor, Stark was every inch the “bitchy boss who has sacrificed family and love” as well as morals themselves in order to be a war profiteer. His “fight” consists of standing up against the same system that had allowed him to amass his fortune. This “fight” is inextricably tied to his “bitchy boss” caricature as someone who has had to surrender love.

It is clear to the viewer that Stark has had to sacrifice love to get where he is in life. Many allusions are given towards the “will they won't they” nature of his relationship with Pepper Potts and Stark’s work is identified as the reason why they won’t. At the end of the movie, Stark attempts to seduce Potts, asking if she ever “thinks about that night” to which she replies, “Are you talking about the night that we danced and went up on the roof, and then you went downstairs to get me a drink, and you left me there, by myself?” The viewers are aware that the reason Stark ran off was because he had received news that Stark weapons had gotten into the wrong hands. Later, Potts will gift him the original arc reactor with the engraving: PROOF THAT TONY STARK HAS A HEART surrounding it. In an unconventional way, Stark portrays the frigid boss who sacrificed everything to get where she is in his titular fight against a war profiteering machine.

Next, let’s examine his role as the fucktoy. This is a more subtle theme throughout the film, present in body language and subtext. I will focus mainly on scenes which present a femme-coded sexualization--scenes where emphasis on Stark’s body does not lend Stark power, but instead strips him of his autonomy. Take for example the scene pictured below. In this scene, Stark bares his chest to Stane. He is quick to cover up and fruitlessly attempts to redirect Stane’s curiosity. Much like a scene where an attractive woman shows skin, the emphasis is placed on Stark redirecting Stane’s predatory interest. Notice the tension in Stark’s stance, the challenge in his eyes and the contrasting pose of Stane, mid-motion, pushing so close into Stark’s space. Stane is clearly coded as the aggressor once the reactor comes out. The same effect is observed as when a woman bares skin--an apparent loss of autonomy as other characters (and even the cinematography itself) takes a pornographic view of her body. Instead of a powerful male character baring his chest in the heat of a battle, giving the audience a glimpse of corded muscle and strength, this scene leaves the viewer feeling uncomfortable on Stark’s behalf.

[TW Start] This femme-coded sexualization that leads ultimately to a loss of autonomy again rears its head in the titular “rape scene”. This is the clearest instance of the reactor--a literal part of Stark’s body, symbolically present as his heart--lends itself to his victimization. Just as a hypersexualized female character with no bodily autonomy, Stark’s bodily autonomy is forcefully violated so that a powerful male figure in his life can exploit a part of him. This theme becomes horrifyingly clear when the scene is examined up close.

Notice the position of their bodies. Once again, Stane towers over Stark, pressing into his space on all sides. In the first image, to the right, he has an arm draped over the back of the couch--a parody of a romantic or perhaps affectionate gesture from one intimate partner to another. Stane visibly radiates power in this position, even if the viewer were unaware of Stark’s paralyzed state. Stane’s shoulders are squared, even sitting down. The position of the reactor in his hand is relaxed and undeniably taunting. Looking at Stark himself, the horror and powerlessness of his situation is clear. His eyes are open, but almost appear to be unseeing. He is not looking directly at the reactor nor at Stane. In fact, it seems as though his eyes are looking below the reactor and to the room at large. I can only describe his expression as hollow--the blank eyes fixed out to something the viewers cannot see, his mouth partially open, his skin sickly pale.

In the second image, pictured above, Stane leers over Stark’s body, cradling his head in, once again, a parody of a lover’s tenderness. He coaxes Stark’s now limp form down onto the couch, having just paralyzed him with a fictional, technological nerve agent. The horror is shockingly clear on Stark’s face and the perverse joy is just as clear on Stane’s. This scene itself is an undeniable parody of rape, or, at the very least, physical assault. [TW End]

Tony Stark presents us with a clear, femme-coded character as his story line draws upon classicly feminine tropes wherein the sexualization of the character’s body is exploitative at heart and leaves them vulnerable to physical predation. In this way, though he is strong, his “body” makes him the victim of his own story. Not only that, his character arc itself travels from the heart-less profiteer to the philanthropic man with a heart of gold, drawing upon another classically femme-caricature of the “bitchy boss”.

Queer Tropes & The Closet

Queer tropes are much harder to draw upon than that of feminine tropes. Queer tropes in film developed in a time of great censorship and as a result are often subtle. There are three main tropes I would like to reference for the purposes of this critique. Within the Iron Man franchise, there exists a distinct sense of camp, a problematized sexual promiscuity, and, ultimately, an identity-reveal/coming out storyline.

One of the most obvious of these tropes is camp. Camp is “defined as the purposeful and ironic adoption of stylistic elements that would otherwise be considered bad taste. Camp aesthetics are generally extreme, exaggerated and showy and always involve an element of mockery” (3). Camp is present in queer culture most commonly in the ball and drag scenes. Camp is the gaudy, the glitzy, the over-the-top, the classic-but-not, the in-your-face… Camp is all of the above and more. This is why it is so easily recognizable to audiences.

The Advocate identifies a series of seventeen queer caricatures in media for consideration, one of them being that of the “promiscuous queer”. Everyone knows the myth of the promiscuous bisexual, even when the reality is that bisexual individuals are no more or no less likely to view monogamy as “sacrificial” than gay or straight individuals (4). The stereotype of the promiscuous bisexual is inaccurate and harmful, and they are by no meals alone in being labeled overly promiscuous by a general audience. The “promiscuous queer” is defined as a character that may struggle with emotional intimacy and, as a result, sleeps around to mask the love they are missing in their life. “Films going back as far as the ’80s British period piece Another Country have featured gay male characters who use sex to cover for their inability to feel true intimacy with another human being” (5). Among their list of guilty perpetrators are Queer as Folk, The L Word, The Good Wife, and How to Get Away With Murder.

The last trope I’d like to present is that of the “coming out” story. Far from being problematic, the “coming out” is often necessary when telling a queer story. Coming out storylines can be problematized when they are presented as “Big Dark Secrets” that weigh heavily on a person until they are spoken. Ultimately, coming out is a choice. Many queer people choose to come out while many do not. There are many people who fall in between--some people may be comfortable being out to select individuals while not to others or to the world at large. In any case, people can be satisfied and fully fulfilled in any of those choices. Coming out stories are undeniably part of queer culture in media. Consider the recent hit, Love Simon alongside Transparent, Empire, Supergirl, and Glee.

Camp, Secrets & Sex

Through the camp of the Iron Man persona, the problematized sexuality of Stark, and the underlying theme of a “coming out” journey, Tony Stark presents audiences with a classically queer experience in film. Take the Iron Man suit itself. The iconic red and gold, the whine of the repulsors, the sleek metal edges and the furious glow of the arc reactor all scream camp. The red and the gold, the opening bars of Back In Black, the facial hair cut into odd spikes, and the sunglasses do, too. Each and every part of the Iron Man persona is camp. “Stylistic elements that otherwise would be bad taste”... talk about gold-plated biceps and a bright red, glowing chest piece! It's camp, baby!

The problematized sexuality of Stark is harder to see as reminiscent of a queer trope. Take, for example, one of the first scenes in the movie. “I do anything and everything that Mr. Stark requires, including, occasionally, taking out the trash”, Potts remarks in reference to a one-night stand she’s ushering out of Stark’s home. Here, Potts implies that Stark sleeps with “trash”. The following scene gives us the feeling that this is not a one-off occurrence. As Potts enters the room, Stark asks, “how’d she take it?” References to his repeated promiscuity are obvious. “Playboy” is an integral part of his persona. Equally obvious is Potts’ disapproval. Taking these inferences of his playboy lifestyle with what viewers know of Stark’s lack of attachments--his “bitchy boss” exterior, if you may--it appears as though his promiscuity is a symptom of the promiscuous queer stereotype.

“Don’t ever ask me to do anything like that ever again,” Potts says after removing the initial arc reactor model from Stark’s chest cavity. “I don’t have anyone but you,” Stark replies. The viewer has a clear picture of Stark as a playboy type who is truly lonely on the inside--who struggles with emotional intimacy. This struggle is evident, given that Potts, Stark’s secretary and co-worker, is the only person in his life he trusts to assist him in what is essentially open heart surgery. His playboy lifestyle mirrors the circumstances of the promiscuous queer trope in media.

Finally, we come to the last scene of the movie-- the climactic reveal. “I am Iron Man”, Stark says. This scene most clearly illustrates a queer story-line. Stark reveals his “identity”, shedding his last secret, and declares to reporters (and effectively the world) that he is Iron Man. To understand how this scene evokes such a strong sense of queer experience in viewers, I’d like to reference another recent in-universe identity reveal in the Marvel Cinematic canon. In Spiderman: Far From Home, the end-credit scene shows Peter Parker reacting in horror to his identity being leaked via doctored footage from the villain Mysterio. This scene can read as nothing but a deep violation. Even the main characters themselves react in abject horror at the news. The Spiderman identity reveal and the Iron Man identity reveal are two sides of the same coming-out process. In one, the character had full agency. In the other, the reveal was non-consensual, a complete violation. It is clear that both of these scenes draw explicitly upon themes that resonate particularly with queer audiences.

To Infinity(War) and Beyond

Growing up, I latched onto Iron Man and Tony Stark as an outlet for my “otherness”. I was well and truly obsessed with the character for reasons that I could not really put into words. He was weird, he was loud, and he was, frankly, unapologetic about any of it. I remember very clearly on my first day of tenth grade listening to Thunderstruck by AC/DC in the car and putting on the brightest shade of red lipstick I could find. Tony Stark gave me confidence. He gave me a voice. Throughout high-school I must have watched the first Iron Man movie upwards of twenty, maybe even thirty times. It was a comfort to me because it showed experiences I resonated with and it showed a strong character recovering from them. Tony Stark rose from the ashes every time and gave me the strength to rise from my own ashes every time he did.

Our heroes can be anything. And Tony Stark was mine.

#thechestnuthead #here you go #yall asked for it #long post #really fucking long post #meta #trixree speaks #ironman #tony stark #marvel meta #analysis #this took a long time rip #if yall want the full paper you can hit me up for a PDF #my posts #trixree gets meta

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mama-pigtails · 3 years

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(tw for abuse mention) i'm pretty stressed right now and your blog was the first one i looked at. i just realized a few days ago that i've been age regressing without knowing it. it feels like there's something unresolved within me. i'm really embarrassed because i'm in my 20's. i like kids clothes, toys, and furniture. i've never gotten these urges or felt excitement like this over toys and games in my life. i almost cried today when i saw a soft teddy bear at the store and i couldn't buy it because i had a friend with me. i like being referred to and treated like a kid. it happens a lot because i'm very small and shy. my mom abused me growing up and my dad was absent so i think that's why? i was parentified really young. i'm really embarrassed and confused by this because i don't want anyone to think i'm weird or i have a fetish because i don't at all :( i'm not sure how to explore this safety and correctly. can you help me? i'm sorry if you don't like asks like this, i saw your other ones and found them comforting

Oh my, it sounds like you’re dealing with a lot, so let’s break it down piece by piece!

First, let’s take a deep breath in and out.

You are safe and this is a safe space. I am not judging you or belittling you for anything you have gone through or are going through. I’m proud of you for reaching out and wanting to know more about age regression. It can be hard to make that first step, and it was really brave of you to send this ask!

In my experience, lots of people can age regress without knowing what it is or without realizing it. I myself grew up just liking kiddie stuff and not realizing what it was later. It is perfectly okay to like kiddie stuff like toys, clothes, snacks, and furniture, no matter how old you are. And it’s okay to do it for any reason!

I am also an abuse survivor and use age regression to deal with trauma and mental illness, and I know lots of age regressors who use their regression to relax, cope, or just have fun! You don’t need an excuse for age regression - if it makes you happy, do it! Like you said, this is not a fetish and it’s not hurting anyone, and many therapists even recommend it.

Of course, I understand sometimes that’s easier said than done. It can be pretty common to be embarrassed about your interests and your regression, especially if you’re older. I’m probably on the older scale too - I’m 21 and I age regress, and I know plenty of people who are in their late 20s or even in their 30s or 40s who age regress.

But here’s a biiiiig secret: a lot of the time, no one will care what you buy, what you dress like, or what your interests are! When I was around 17 I bought a sippy cup and some teethers and the clerk checking me out didn’t bat an eye. Chances are, anyone who sees you is going to assume they’re for someone else. And if you’re with a friend and you buy something like a teddy bear, there’s a lot of things you can say. “It’s just so cute!” or “I think it would match my room really well!” or “It reminds me of my childhood!” Being nostalgic for something is a feeling everyone has experienced - just look at the 90s and Y2K aesthetics that have been getting popular again! You can buy things like plushies and toys and dolls and you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone. I promise. There is nothing weird or sexual about liking this stuff.

And if the time comes when you want to tell someone about your regression, then we can cross that bridge when we get to it.

But for now, I want you to know that it’s a-okay to regress. My inbox and my direct messages are always open if you want to talk, whether it’s about regression or just how your day went.

In the meantime, here are some sources you might want to look at:

https://sunflower-stella.tumblr.com/post/622287576639946752/image-id-a-beginners-guide-to-tumblr-age

https://buttercupagere.tumblr.com/post/186036882830/age-regression-vocabulary

#asks #anon #answered #abuse mention

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tealin · 4 years

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Temperatures

As always, when you see one of these posts pop up you can head straight over to twirlynoodle.com/blog to see it properly formatted and with pictures. Tumblr didn't even take the crosspost last time so I don't know what's going on!

It’s all well and good to share photos of Antarctica – after all, it is a beautiful place, and we are predominantly a visual species. The photos can give you a sense of what it looks like, but not what it feels like. If people know anything about Antarctica, it’s that it’s cold. But how cold? And what kind of cold?

I cannot speak to the full range of Antarctic weather. I was down for exactly a month, in early summer, and aside from the first week, the weather was unusually calm and mild. To my great disappointment, I didn't see a single blizzard! But I did get enough to compare the feel of Antarctica with other places I have been, and I hope that by making those comparisons here, I will bring you a little closer to understanding quite literally what it feels like to be there.

Temperatures are misleading. A number can only give you an impression of what one might actually feel when one steps out the door. Humidity, sunshine, and wind are external factors that affect the perception of temperature; this can be further influenced by how much sleep or food you've had, BMI, resting metabolism, your accustomed climate, where you've just come from – so, 6°C can feel different from one day to the next, or to two different people standing side by side.

There are roughly two types of cold: dry and damp. The influential factor is water, because it takes a tremendous amount of energy to make water change temperature – this is why it takes so much power to boil a kettle, and why we bring hot water bottles to bed instead of hot gravel bottles. In dry environments, there is less water vapour in the air to suck up the heat coming off your body, so you get to keep more of it for yourself. It may be well below freezing, but you will feel the cold merely as a sensation on your skin, where it meets the air, and not something that goes right through you. Damp cold, because of the energy-hungry water in the air, feels a lot colder. It’s not enough merely to cover your skin, you need layers of fabrics that have moisture-repelling properties (wool is key; cotton is useless). Your precious body heat will leak out through any weak point in your clothing. Because of their different properties, dry air can be much colder than damp air and yet feel more comfortable. In my experience, damp cold is the worst when it’s above freezing, because below freezing the air can’t hold so much water. Damp climates, however, tend not to get much below freezing, so when people from damp climates imagine very cold temperatures, they imagine the insidious cold they know, only much much worse. It’s not necessarily like that.

Even the objective numerical value of a temperature presents a problem: my historical sources, and the United States of America, report temperatures in Fahrenheit, while the rest of the world operates in Celsius. Scientists prefer the metric system, but McMurdo is an American base, so it's functionally bilingual. I tend to think in Celsius, but as the historical record was in °F and I wanted to be able to compare what I was experiencing with what my guys experienced, I paid more attention to °F while I was down there. In this post, I will report actual temperatures in both, so you can look at whichever one you understand best.

When I left Britain in mid-October, we had been having a very mild autumn, after a hot summer. My hopes for hardening up a little on the way to Antarctica were dashed when Vancouver, though objectively colder, felt merely fresh and delightful, I assume because it was unseasonably dry. LA is always dry in the autumn and usually hot, so that was no surprise; Christchurch however was much warmer than expected, and because it wasn't as dry as LA, felt even hotter. After several days' delay there, I feared my blood was much too thin to be hurtled into ice and snow.

It is regulation to wear one's Extreme Cold Weather gear on the plane to McMurdo. Aware that I'd just had a fortnight of heat to thin my blood, and that they were just coming out of a cold snap down there, I was only too happy to take this precaution. When the plane landed, everyone piled on their balaclavas and tuques, and when the door opened, an icy-looking fog formed as our pent-up breaths met the cold air from outside. Here we go, I thought. As I approached the gangway I braced myself for the smart of cold air on exposed skin and the stiletto keenness as I inhaled, but . . .

. . . it was fine.

In fact, it was so fine that when I was allowed to change out of my ECW, I put on my street shoes, not even my cold-weather hiking boots. I knew dry cold from Utah and Alberta, but I was coming to understand that in an Antarctic context, “well it was -20, but it was a dry cold” isn't a joke, it's just a statement of fact. +6°C(42°F) would be miserable in damp Cambridge, but -6°C(21°F) was quite comfortable at McMurdo – if it wasn't windy, one could happily go about without a coat.

One always had a coat to hand, though, because the wind could turn up at any time, and it made a big difference. The first time I went to Cape Evans it was so mild as to be balmy – I was in snow pants because they were required for the snowmobile, but on top I stripped down to just my base layer and a medium-weight sweater, and was even a bit warm in that. It was -1°C/30°F, but I could happily have sat down to a picnic.

Before we left, I wanted to make a quick trip up Wind Vane Hill. I got hot climbing it, but while on top, a breeze kicked up, and before long I was wishing I hadn't left my jacket at the bottom. The reason I have my hands tucked in my snow pants bib in the above photo is because they were beginning to feel quite nippy. I always had a jacket with me after that, even if I cursed its dead weight the whole time. (It was usually my trenchcoat, not the big red parka, for this reason. I will go into more depth on clothing in a future post.)

A similar thing happened on my Basler flight. I'm afraid I don't know the actual temperatures where and when we landed – we were at the inland extremity of the Barrier, though, so everything I'd read told me it ought to be noticeably colder than McMurdo. It might well have been. But the only clue that it wasn't a perfectly warm summer day was that the slightest stir in the air breathed ice on my hands. It felt much the same at the much higher altitude site of CTAM. The interior of the continent is even drier than the coast: apparently, in the absence of wind and on a bright sunny day, this makes temperature barely perceptible at all.

A windless day is a vast exception in the case of Antarctic weather, though, and besides chilling a human body, the direction of the wind makes a big difference to the objective air temperature. A north wind, arriving from over the open sea, was comparatively mild. Most of the time, however, the wind was from the east to south, coming cold off the icy interior. This sends it funnelling through The Gap straight at Hut Point. The Hut Point Wind was infamous in the Heroic Age; even now it can be a pleasant day at the station, but one must remember to kit up just to walk around the corner to the Discovery Hut.

It did make for some great photos, though, because if the conditions were just right – which they were a few times in my month there – the wind would kick up some freshly fallen snow and things would look so very Antarctic. The funny thing was, on the days when it looked quintessentially polar, it was actually comparatively warm. The snow was so powdery that a fairly light wind could lift it, so it didn't have to be brutally windy to look brutally windy. The cold really sets in when a high pressure system stays in place for a while and keeps the air still; if there is turbulence, there is warmth, and if a weather system moves through – such as the kind that delivers snow – the temperature rises considerably. So in order for there to be fresh snow to blow around, there will have been a recent warm spell, whereas if it's starting to get cold again, the new snow will have compacted enough not to blow around. The strongest winds I encountered in Antarctica were at Cape Crozier, but you'd never guess it from my photos, which haven't a speck of drift. I am sure there are exceptions to this, but this was a dependable pattern in my time there.

Above: two images of light snow blowing off just after a snowfall, when it was comparatively warm. Below: 30-knot winds at Cape Crozier, but you'd never guess.

One of my oddest temperature memories was in one of those balmy drifty situations. I had been asked to give my history lecture over at Scott Base, and I was to wait for the Kiwi truck at a designated pickup point on the road coming over from The Gap. There are three official categories for weather in Antarctica: Condition 3 is when everything can operate as normal: it can be cold, it can be windy, but visibility is fine and the ordinary precautions will see you through. Condition 2 is when things are starting to get serious: drift and/or winds are reaching dangerous levels, extra precaution is necessary, and venturing outside is discouraged. Condition 1 is when everyone is required to stay indoors except on vital business as merely venturing outside is a life-threatening risk. During my month there it was always Condition 3, but within the hour of my pickup a Condition 2 had been declared on the Scott Base side of The Gap. My ride said she would be coming anyway, as she would be overwintering and needed the practice of driving in Condition 2, so I went up to meet her. I was hoping I would finally get a blast of Antarctica, but it gave me a surprise. For one, it was warm. And, yes, it was windy, but not desperately so, and the wind had a damp sweetness that, weirdly, made me think of swelling streams and crocuses. The Condition 2 had been called purely because of the drift, which was obscuring the road and therefore made driving more hazardous than usual. It was surreal to hear my driver checking in with her radio operator as if she were chasing tornadoes when it was really quite pleasant out.

My first few days at McMurdo were by far the coldest of my whole visit. When I first visited the Discovery Hut it was -18°C, or just below 0°F, and rather windy on the way back. That was when I learned that one can be feeling really quite cosy all over but one's outermost extremities can still suffer the cold – I distinctly remember wondering why my fingertips were tingling when I felt so warm, and a little while later my toes went numb and I had to stamp them back to life. The dryness, not sapping your core heat, can lure you into a false sense of security, and nab your digits while you're not looking.

After that, daily highs mostly hovered around the freezing point, and lows rarely dipped as low as -10°C/+14°F. This was really very mild – indeed, the people who'd been down since September could often be seen flitting about in t-shirts – and was an amusing irony for me personally. Twice in the past I'd visited Calgary in search of 'Antarctic' cold and hit, instead, a relatively mild spell; it turned out that in Antarctica I was getting exactly the same weather that I had thought un-Antarctic in Calgary. Not only was it the same weather on paper, but it felt exactly the same as well – the light, fresh kiss of frosty air on one's cheeks, surprising warmth in the sunshine but a breeze to keep you honest, and even the same granular texture to old snow. Altitude can give you the same feeling, as the thinner air cannot hold as much moisture as it can at lower levels, so if you've not been to the Prairies but have been on a ski holiday, you can use that as a reference point as well.

It is much harder to draw parallels with damper climates. At home in Cambridge, I have a sort of 'misery zone' between 4°-10°C (40°-50°F) where it's too cold to be warm, but not cold enough to be crisp, and the damp seems to seep through every layer to reach in and chill. As the thermometer plunges towards freezing and below, it is, ironically, more comfortable weather, because the colder the air is, the less moisture it can hold. In Britain I have sometimes found myself taking off layers as the mercury falls. When imagining Antarctica, people often extrapolate from their own experience of cold temperatures: If your base measure of cold is the 'misery zone' in a damp climate, such as Europe or the Eastern US, then you may think 'If 6°C feels like this, then -6° must feel that much worse' when in fact all the other factors at play can make it preferable. Even the cold days on my arrival at McMurdo were nicer, experientially, than a misty morning in deepest February back home. At one point, Cherry describes Antarctic summer weather as resembling a crisp sunny morning in September, and indeed from a British perspective Antarctica often felt more like a bright and breezy 13°C (55°F) than anything closer to freezing.

This gave me some perspective on the early explorers. If they had spent their lives on this chilly island, and then travelled to Antarctica over a chilly sea, they would be coming at it with all the assumptions one acquires from experience with humid cold. Finding not an amplification of your worst experiences, but instead a wonderland where the thermometer seemed to exist in a different reality – certainly the case when they arrived in midsummer – would encourage some overconfidence that we might consider reckless. Some, like Scott, had been down before and knew how deceptive the weather could be; his journals are full of chiding his team for not taking Antarctica seriously. But there were many who were new to it, and even after an Antarctic winter, sheltered as they were in an insulated hut by the sea, they did not fully grasp how dangerous things could get inland and how narrow the margins were. A breeze may be thrilling when it brings the truth of -10 to exposed skin warmed by the sun; when the truth is -40 it's instant frostbite. While I didn't get temperatures that low, my experience with higher ones can, I hope, help me imagine how that would go.

The dryness that made the cold so bearable granted me a reprieve from an opposing worry. Outside of Britain I generally find buildings overheated in the winter – I have to remind myself to pack light 'inside clothes' or else I suffocate. This is especially the case in the States, and McMurdo being an American base I foresaw having to strip five layers off and put them back on again every time I entered or exited a building. They may have been overheated, but I don't know – dry air saps the potency of heat as well as cold, so it was as comfortable to wear three layers as one, and that saved me a lot of time in the cloakroom. Thanks, Antarctica!

I had got so used to the nip in the air that I thought I'd be inured to cold for the rest of the winter, but once I was back on this cold damp North Atlantic island, the misery zone was as potent as ever. I may not have picked up thermoregulation superpowers in Antarctica, but I did come back with two secret weapons: merino wool base layers, and an utter disregard for my appearance so long as I was warm. I highly recommend both to anyone in a disagreeable climate.

#travel #antarctica #cold #travel blog #weather #mcmurdo station

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argylemnwrites · 3 years

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Fight or Flight - Chapter 14: Help

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4100

Rating: R (language, 30 diamond scene)

Summary: About three weeks since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: With my state surging so badly that the CDC had to come up with a new category for coronavirus monitoring, and my hospital group changing policy constantly, even the illusion of an update schedule is pretty much out the window at this point, so thank you to all of you who are still sticking with this series! I saw that in canon, our crew just now decided to go on the run, but my MC and Drake have been on the lam for a while at this point, hahaha, so thanks for going on this wild ride with them!

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Olivia let out a sigh as the privacy divider in her town car finally finished closing, tipping her head back and tugging the pins out of her hair. “God, what a nightmare.”

Liam hummed in agreement. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the palace tonight? It might be good optics, keeping you in the thick of things since the social season just started.”

He shook his head as he shifted slightly next to her. “After Hana’s conversation with Kiara and all its revelations, we need to be able to discuss things openly. With everything that has already happened, I don’t trust my assigned quarters at the palace to not be bugged.”

All Olivia could do was let out a little shrug. She knew he had a point, but she was worried about his overall approach here. All the strategizing and discussing in the world wouldn’t matter if he didn’t maintain an image of strength and dependability. Trotting back to the seclusion of Lythikos consistently would absolutely weaken the perception others had of him.

“So, I think we can safely assume that Amalas knows about this alliance between Barthelemy and Auvernal. It would explain why she was so eager to strike a deal with us,” Liam continued, reaching up and loosening his tie as he stretched his neck.

“But why would Aurvernal agree to work with Barthelemy? He wasn’t exactly supportive of them when they were trying to force Drake and Riley to solidify the betrothal. Hell, he used that mess to argue against their suitability to raise Bridget.”

Liam frowned, his eyes dropping to his lap for just a moment. “The latter part of your statement I can see him spinning over the coming months. He can argue that he has met with neighboring leaders and struck more beneficial alliance terms than I was ever able to foster, making him better suited for the role of monarch. With the delay in the start of the social season, he’ll have plenty of time to sell it as believable.”

“We had to push Rashad to delay. Hana told us that we need to make sure-”

“-Kiara represents House Theron, I know. It’s just unfortunate the delay may also be desirable for Barthelemy’s camp as well as ours. It would be nice to catch a break for once.”

“Liam…”

He ignored her attempt at sympathy. “Oh well, that’s just the reality isn’t it? We need to figure out how Auvernal played into Landon’s decision. Have you been able to buy off any of their staff?”

Olivia shook her head. “Not yet. I have a couple of leads on a maid and a driver who might be loyal to you, though.”

“That’s something, I suppose. I guess we should probably try and gain some intelligence about the motives of Bradshaw and Isabella as well, shouldn’t we?” He sounded tired, his hands working to remove his cufflinks.

“Yeah, we definitely need to hit this from multiple angles, find out their goal and what they might have done to sway not only Landon, but Hakim and Adelaide. Barthelemy is absolutely going to challenge Bertrand for control of House Beaumont, so we need to gain at least two of those votes. Counting on keeping the Beaumont vote in our camp is just too… dicey at this point, don’t you think?”

Liam nodded, but didn’t seem to want to say anything, so Olivia just kept going. “Now, I think since it’ll be Kiara voting, and she’s been very willing to divulge things to Hana, that is probably our best bet. And I know I’ve been focusing on getting some dirt on Landon and Emmeline, but maybe Adelaide would be the easier pick up? She’s never had much interest in actual politics, so maybe if we had Maxwell just socialize with her repeatedly at the upcoming events, that might be enough? For whatever reason she’s always loved him.”

She glanced over, surprised to find Liam with his eyes closed, his head tipped back. Had he fallen asleep that quickly?

“Liam?” she hissed out.

“I’m still listening; I promise you I’m not asleep.”

“Do you have anything to add?”

He shook his head against the back of the seat without opening his eyes. “No, you seem to have things under control.”

“But, I was-”

“-I trust you, Olivia.”

His words should have been affirming and confidence boosting, but instead all she felt was fear. He should be more invested than this. He needed to be more invested than this. And honestly, she was sure he knew that fact. He would go through the motions of strategizing with her on a regular basis. But he always faded quickly, becoming distracted or introspective. He was ruminating instead of focusing and channeling that hurt and pain into something productive.

But that wasn’t going to stop tonight. It was very late, and the drive back to Lythikos was a long one. So, Olivia just let him rest, pulling out her burner phone and scanning for any news bulletins about the Walkers being found in Athens, letting out a small sigh of relief when she found none. It looked like Leo and Riley had managed to pull it off. Combine that with Hana’s intel, and she knew the night had been more successful than not. She just needed Liam to start to see things that way. Otherwise, the upcoming months were going to be even bleaker than anticipated.

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

Riley kept her head down as she shuffled past a man in the hallway. With two large duffels, it was a bit awkward, and she didn't want the man to remember anything about her other than the fact that it was a bit of a tight fit with all her luggage.

Once he was out of sight, she unlocked the door to their hotel room, opening it as narrowly as possible to slide into the room. She had barely closed and locked the door when she felt a pair of familiar strong arms engulfing her. She dropped the duffel bags to the ground and spun in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his back.

"You're back," Drake murmured into her hair. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his whole body practically trembling. "You were late, and I thought…"

"Leo was almost an hour late," she said, her voice somewhat muffled by his chest because of how closely he was holding her. "I wanted to text you, but-"

"No, you made the right call." They had decided early on to avoid using their new phones to contact each other if at all possible. That way, if one of them got picked up and taken into custody, the other wouldn't be instantly traceable. It meant a lot of anxiety and fear when they weren't together, though. "I just… I… I was worried that…" Drake kept trailing off, almost as if he was unable to say his fears out loud.

"I know, Drake. I know. But it's okay. It all went okay." She slid her hands up, tracing between his shoulder blades, running her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe both him and herself. To call tonight stressful was a mad understatement.

“Leo had our stuff?”

She nodded against his chest. “In his hotel room. I obviously didn’t take the time to dig through it all, but I saw toys, clothing, documents, money.”

Drake ran his hands through her hair, then loosened his hold on her enough to lean back and look her in the eyes. “Did anyone… were you...”

“I don’t think anyone noticed me, Drake.”

He let out a shuddering breath, and then he was kissing her. Not some gentle, tender peck, but hard and deep. Like he used to kiss her when they were alone. Before she turned their lives upside down.

She missed this. She knew it was stupid. They were wanted fugitives and barely getting by in a foreign country. They were hungry and stressed and sleep-deprived. On top of that, they shared one room with their soon-to-be 11 month old daughter, so they had no privacy. Their sex life was far from their most pressing concern.

But… she still missed it, that sense of shared connection and intimacy, and that encompassed more than just the sex. She honestly felt like his teammate or coworker more than his wife far too often. They just spent so much time on the practical, discussing next steps, trying to arrange logistics. Moments of shared laughter and warmth were few and far between these days. And sure, they didn't really have much to laugh about, but it was still a loss.

When she’d sat on his lap yesterday after dyeing her hair, it almost felt like a sliver of their old life and dynamic was back. She’d teased him, he’d held her close. But moments like that were just not the norm for them anymore. Most of the time, even any physical affection was more focused on comfort in light of something negative. Holding hands, hugs, that sort of thing seemed to only happen when their world felt like it was crumbling around them. It’s like they shared nothing but worry and fear most of the time.

There was also the fact that Drake hadn't opened up to her about his own emotions. She knew him. She knew that his fractured relationship with Liam must be weighing on him, that he must feel mad guilty about so many things. But he wasn't telling her anything. He hadn't kept things from her like this in years, and it honestly scared the shit out of her. At first, she thought he was just trying to shield her from his own pain. She knew that her initial panic had probably sent him into hyper-protective mode. But that was weeks ago. She was pretty sure she was holding it together better now. At the very least, she didn't think she was a walking mess anymore.

But Drake was definitely still keeping everything bottled up, and she had to wonder if that was in part because he didn't trust her. Whether it was because her initial panic had meant that she had not considered him enough or because he resented her decision to take Bridget out of Cordonia and away from their entire support system or because he couldn't help but see her as the reason he was named a traitor she had no idea. And maybe he was still just trying to shield her from his own worries and anxieties, but the fear was there that in her efforts to protect her kid, she was slowly losing her husband.

While Drake was off busting his ass to keep their family afloat, she'd had a lot of time to think, and she knew that wasn't helpful. When Bridget was awake, playing with her kept her mind off of those awful thoughts, but they kept creeping back in when she napped and slept. There was only so long that playing Dopey Cat could provide a distraction, after all. So instead she wondered endlessly if she had only been able to keep Bridget by her side at the cost of the foundation of her marriage.

For so many years, those fears of never mattering enough to someone else, of always ending up alone in the end had led her to keep relationships superficial. She’d avoided vulnerability, and therefore pain, at all costs. But then she came to Cordonia, and she had Drake, Hana, Maxwell, and Liam. She’d come to trust and feel and it was beyond anything younger her could have ever dreamed up. But now she’d ruined things with Liam, was disconnected from Hana and Maxwell, and it seemed all too likely she’d damaged things with Drake, too. All those people, who actually cared about her. She’d made a mess of the best parts of her life.

And maybe she was overreacting. Drake still clearly loved and cared about her. Worried about her constantly, in all honesty. But she also worried that he was gradually pulling away from her, that some day would creep up on them where all they would share would be concern for Bridget. But tonight, after all the stress and anxiety and fears of the evening, he was kissing her like he wanted her, like he loved her, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

She let out a pathetically needy moan, the sort of noise that would usually draw a smirk and some teasing from Drake. But tonight, he didn’t. Instead, he just surged forward with a groan of his own, driving her back into the wall and hooking his hands around her thighs, hoisting her up onto his waist before she could even process what was going on.

Riley clawed her fingers into his shoulders, dropping her head back against the wall as he moved his lips across her jaw. She began rocking her hips against him, tilting her head to the side as he worked his way down her neck, biting down lightly as he went. She tugged at his t-shirt, and after a few moments, he finally got the hint, sliding his hands out from under her thighs, letting her drop to the floor as he pulled off his shirt.

Deep down, Riley knew they had a lot they still needed to talk about and that doing this wasn’t going to fix the ache that had been growing in her heart, day by day. But she also knew that after weeks of stress and the horrible possibilities about tonight that had been running through both their minds, maybe this was just something they really needed. So she scrambled to tug off her shirt and jeans, kicking her sandals somewhere towards the door as Drake unbuckled his pants, and in almost no time they were both adding their underwear to the pile of clothing on the floor.

They were back on each other in an instant, hands grabbing and stroking, mouths everywhere. Riley felt her feet leaving the floor, so she wrapped her legs around Drake’s waist as he held her under her thighs, slamming her back against the wall. And then he was sinking into her, dropping his head to her shoulder to muffle the groan he let out as he did so.

It was all quick and frantic, both of them thrusting against each other wildly. She could sense that Drake was just as desperate as her. Desperate to feel something besides anxiety and guilt and pain. She knew she was going to have bruises from his fingers with how tightly he was clutching her thighs, but she didn’t care. Hell, she wondered how badly she was scratching his back. None of that mattered.

She hissed out his name as his lips latched back onto her neck. She knew this was going to be quick, so as she slid one hand up to his neck, tugging on his hair, she also dropped her other hand down between them, letting her fingers trace circles right above where they were joined. It didn't take long before she felt a warmth spreading out, down her legs and up her back, and then she was gone. Drake must have felt her climax, because he muttered "Fuck" into the skin of her neck, only driving into her a couple more times before she felt him spilling inside her. He slumped against the wall, his weight the only thing keeping her from sliding to the floor.

After a few moments, Drake let out a sigh, placing his hands back on her thighs and easing her down as he took a step back. “You okay?” he asked, his head slightly downturned.

Riley closed the newly-created gap between them, stepping forward and sliding a hand up to his cheek. “Drake, I’m fine. Are… are you okay?”

He nodded, tugging her into a gentle hug. “I just… I think I…”

“It’s okay, Drake. I get it.” She didn’t like that he still apparently couldn’t talk to her, but if he’d needed a minute of physical comfort and reprieve, well that was pretty fucking understandable. So she didn’t push him, just joined him in getting cleaned up and dressed in a t-shirt and underwear. While Drake washed the day’s clothes in the bathroom, she checked on Bridget, passed out in the travel crib Drake had picked up a few weeks back. They hadn’t used it to this point, and Riley wondered why Drake had dug it out of the car tonight. It had been safely tucked away with the tent, sleeping bags, and ground pad since he bought it.

“I thought we should probably start trying to get her used to it.” Drake’s voice cut through the room, startling Riley and answering the question she never got a chance to ask. “We are looking at months of being on the run. We need to start… I don’t know, making things… stable for her, I guess.”

“Makes sense,” said Riley, giving her daughter one last look before turning around to face Drake. “How did she handle bedtime?”

He grimaced and shook his head. “I think she was scared or upset because you weren’t here. She was basically inconsolable. I contemplated taking her on a drive just to calm her down. I kind of figured the night couldn’t get any worse, so I might as well try the crib. She screamed for about an hour before she wore herself out.”

Riley walked over and wrapped her arms around Drake. He struggled more with the sleep training than she did, even if he talked a way bigger game about letting Bridget “cry it out” in the light of day. “Well, she’s asleep now at least.”

Drake nodded, running a hand up and down her back. “You ready to go through the bags?”

She nodded and gave him a little smile, sitting down on the end of the bed as Drake grabbed the duffels and brought them over. They slowly worked their way through them, item by item. Hana had included so many useful things, from the practical, like clothes appropriate for a variety of types of weather and spare contact lenses and Riley’s glasses, to the unessential but truly missed, like Bridget’s stuffed corgi and Riley’s good hair brush. There was a lot of money in there, too. Thousands of Euros, which probably wouldn’t be enough to get them all the way until January, but at least made their situation a lot less dire. Their passports and birth certificates were tucked in there as well. For the first time, it felt like they might have some options when it came to their next steps.

After twenty minutes or so of sorting and unpacking, they reached the bottom of the bags. There were a handful of framed photos. Riley hadn’t mentioned any pictures as being something they wanted, so this must have been Hana’s idea. There were a couple that had been displayed in their bedroom and den. A candid Maxwell took on their wedding reception, Drake sitting down as Riley stood behind him, her arms looped over his shoulders, both of them looking at each other with stupid, cheesy grins on their faces. The two of them with Savannah, Bertrand, and Bartie taken down in Texas, the day before the wedding. A photo of the three of them that Hana had taken in the privacy of their home the day after the anointing with them in casual clothing, just curled up on the couch holding Bridget, a stark contrast from the pomp of the formal portrait for the history books and press release the day before. There were a couple of new ones, too. The corgis snuggled together on their massive cushion in the den. Hana and Maxwell grinning with arms thrown over each other's shoulders, clearly a selfie taken by Maxwell at a formal event. Liam and Olivia sitting on a couch at what appeared to be the Lythikos keep, Olivia with an eyebrow raised, Liam with a hollow-looking smile.

Riley glanced over at Drake, unsure how these photos would affect him. He just swallowed roughly before placing the stack of photos he was holding on the bed next to him. Riley leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. They were both silent for a few moments until Drake finally spoke.

“Was that everything?”

Riley shook her head. “No, there’s a letter. At least I assume that’s what it is. It’s an envelope with Hana’s writing.”

Drake didn’t say anything, so after a few seconds, Riley leaned forward, grabbing the envelope with “Riley & Drake” looped in beautiful cursive sitting at the bottom of one of the duffels. She slid her finger under the flap and pulled out a sheet of stationary with delicate pink and cream flowers in the corners. She held it between them so that Drake could read it at the same time.

Riley and Drake,

I hope that you and Bridget are all doing well and in as good of spirits as the circumstances will allow. I can only imagine how incredibly difficult this must be for you.

In these bags, I’ve included the items you mentioned as well as a few more toys for Bridget and pieces of clothing that I thought would be suitable for when the weather gets colder. I know it isn’t much, but hopefully this will make your lives just a little more comfortable.

I also sent some pictures I thought you might like to have, both old and new. Whenever things get tough, just remember that you have people who love you and want the best for you and your family.

While this is probably the furthest thing from your mind, I want to assure you that I am not taking my position as Duchess of Valtoria lightly. I am setting up citizen meetings for the upcoming weeks. Judging by the protests outside of the estate, you have a lot of support still here, and when this is all resolved, I will step down if you would like to rightfully reclaim your titles.

I love and miss you both, and tell Bridget that Aunt Hana misses her, too. Maxwell said I should include paw prints from Anderson, Vera, Ellis, and Ilsa, but for the sake of the staff who would need to clean up that mess, I will just settle on saying they clearly miss you as well.

Keep safe, Hana

Riley twisted to look at Drake. She knew he would already be done since he was a faster reader than her. His face was very still as he stared over at Bridget’s crib.

“Drake?”

He jerked his head over to look at her, giving her a very empty smile as he did so. “Your best friend is really something, huh?”

She frowned, trying to suss out how much she should read into that statement, but he kept his expression blank. When it became clear he wasn’t going to elaborate more, she settled on a light response, knowing he probably didn’t want to delve into things too deeply at this point. “She really is. But her assumption that we would be at all worried about our former titles is adorably naive.”

Drake let out a little snort of a chuckle, so Riley kept going. “Can you imagine us just rolling back to Valtoria after all of this and challenging Hana for the title?”

His smile became a little more genuine at that. “Well, being out of touch with reality is a common trait amongst the nobility. Maybe it would just be us finally catching up with the rest of them.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “Come on, let’s pack this stuff up and get some sleep.”

“Sounds like a plan, Walker.”

Riley stood up and offered a hand to Drake, tugging him to his feet as well. There was still a lot they needed to sort through and take care of, both practically and emotionally. She knew that. Even with everything given to them tonight, the months ahead were hardly going to be a cake walk, and she knew she would have to get Drake talking at some point. But for the first time in weeks, she felt true hope. Hope that they could make this work, that they weren’t two seconds away from failing their daughter and each other, that they were moving forward. And for tonight, that felt like enough.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

TRR/TRH: @iaminlovewithtrr @mskaneko @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff @sarahx206

Drake/MC: @no-one-u-know @iplaydrake

FoF: @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby

#drake walker #drake x mc #trh au #trh fanfic #trh au fanfic #choices fanfiction #trh #the royal heir #king liam #olivia nevrakis #n*fw #30 diamonds

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lilydalexf · 4 years

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with aka "Jake"

aka "Jake" has 83 stories at Gossamer, but don't miss her website for fics because a number of them come with cover images and/or illustrations you can't see at Gossamer. She's written some of the most epic and well-known stories in the fandom, including Abaddon's Reign and The Mastodon Diaries. Big thanks to aka "Jake" for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

It does surprise me! It just goes to show the series has amazing staying power and there are many excellent writers in the fandom who were able to capture the essence of Mulder and Scully and expand on XF canon every bit as successfully as the writers of the TV show. Some even more so.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

Like any online community, there were upsides and downsides. But what impressed me most were the lasting friendships that spilled into real life. Overall, the folks I encountered in the fandom were kind, helpful, talented, and inspiring. I’m still in contact with many of them and even meet up regularly with a couple of people who I consider my closest friends now, though we live far apart. Readers could be especially encouraging, poking authors with virtual sticks to get them to write more and faster. An amazing group called the Mastoholics formed to spur me on while I was posting The Mastodon Diaries as a work in progress. Several of them traveled to my house for a mini-con after the story was finished. Other folks called betas provided invaluable editing advice to authors. I was lucky to have several very good ones, but especially appreciated mimic117 and xdksfan. They went beyond proofreading; they pointed out confusing passages, missing plot points, and anything that seemed OOC (out of character). This polishing was a vital step before posting. To think they did it for nothing but the love of fanfic. It was a considerable time commitment.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

There were several key sites for posting and discussing fic when I started writing in 1997. These included Ephemeral, Gossamer, and Haven. Several sites issued writing challenges, like Haven, The Project, and The Church of X. Others gave out awards, like P1013 [Lilydale note: short for Prometheus1013] and the Spookys. I Made This! Productions invited authors, including me, to write episodes for virtual seasons of the show. I recall joining a couple of listservs early on, too.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Overall, it was an uplifting experience. My writing improved tremendously thanks to honest feedback and several key collaborations, particularly with co-authors Brandon D. Ray and the Secret Squirrels. I’d never written anything longer than an office memo when I started my first fic. I had nowhere to go but up. These gifted and generous authors helped me grow as a writer. Collaborating with them made the experience of writing even more creative, exciting, and special.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

The first episode I watched was The Field Where I Died. It hooked me immediately. Back then, there was no way to go back and watch the earlier episodes. It wasn’t until several years later I was finally able to watch the first 3 seasons on DVDs.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I stumbled upon Ephemeral where I read a fic called Acadia by RivkaT, which was set in Acadia National Park in Maine. If I recall correctly, it was a casefile with an emphasis on Mulder and Scully’s relationship. It felt like an episode of the show. I was thrilled to find a seemingly endless supply of XF stories that allowed me to extend my enjoyment of the TV series. It wasn’t long before I considered writing a story myself, a case file, although as mentioned above, I had no previous writing experience, just the desire to write down and share my ideas about Mulder and Scully.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I haven’t been active in the fandom for quite some time. I have no idea where writers post or readers go to find fic. That said, to keep my mind off the pandemic and other disheartening news this year, I began writing a new fic, which I plan to add to my site in September.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

No, I never joined any other fandoms.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Sadly, no fictional characters have captured my heart and attention the way Mulder and Scully did.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

Yes, I do still watch XF. Before Seasons 10-11 aired, I rewatched the entire series and both movies. I enjoy the stories as much now as I did back in the day.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

No, not for ages. I’ve never read any stories from other fandoms.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

There are so many great authors and I’m hesitant to name them for fear of leaving someone out and hurting their feelings. Like a lot of fic writers, I was inspired by Prufrock’s Love beautiful way with words. Mountainphile wrote taut, realistic case files that I admired. David Hearne took on unique perspectives. To name just three.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I think my best writing may be in my long, post-col story Abaddon’s Reign. The story I most enjoyed writing was The Case of the Exuberant G-Man. It was a fun story that seemed to write itself.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

As mentioned above, I’m finishing up a new fic now and plan to post it on my site on or near the anniversary of the airdate of Season 1’s episode Squeeze. My story takes place in 2023, 30 years after Eugene Tooms was mangled to death in an elevator. I wanted to explore the idea of Tooms returning. How would that be possible? And what would Mulder’s and Scully’s lives be like five years after losing their son at the hands of CGB Spender and learning Scully was pregnant once again? I honestly thought I’d never write another fic but here we are.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Often from the unanswered questions left by the show, the off-screen scenes we didn’t get to see.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

The majority, no. Years ago, I told my sister I was writing XF fanfic and she looked at me like I’d grown two heads. We didn’t speak of it again. More recently, my sister-in-law discovered my work. She’s a big XF fan and still reads fanfic, so her reaction was very accepting. Back in the early days, fanfic wasn’t considered serious writing and had a pretty bad reputation, which honestly didn’t jibe with the truly fine quality of some of the writing in the fandom. Sure, it wasn’t all good but there were some real gems.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

All of my stories are on my site at akajake.net.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Just that I’m pleased there are folks like you who are helping to continue the tradition and fun! Thank you for interviewing me and giving me the opportunity to stroll down memory lane.

(Posted by Lilydale on September 1, 2020)

#new post #old school x #newsflash: new aka jake story coming soon #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #aka jake

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