Dearest readers, fans, and mutual readers and fans -
This is Gift!Fic for Crystal (aka "QueenofCrystallopia" here on fanfiction) for her birthday. This is basically a crack!fic taking itself totally seriously where FIFFING takes place, which is a term I made up in 2005 for "Falling into Fan Fiction". This is a birthday present for the amazing Crystal to make up for the fact that the other two fics I was going to try and finish by her birthday aren't done yet, when I knew I could probably get a shorter fic done sooner. If you are new to the madness, Crystal is a real friend of mine in real life who writes AMAZING Avengers fanfiction in her own CMFU (Crystal's Marvel Fanfiction Universe) and is now three books in, with more on the way. If you haven't seen them, before to check out her Paint it Black series - #1 Paint it Black, #2 Silent Night, and #3 Riders in the Sky. Her incredible version of Venom has also made a cameo in my own sequel to Infinity War called "Where They Go". If this is your first time, you don't need to read them all before, but you can consider this a companion to some of the material in Riders in the Sky.
Without further ado, we're OFF on an ADVENTURE!
Sincerely, Pip
The One Where We FIFF
Of all the places for Dr. Strange to appear, my bedroom did not seem a likely one. He looks good standing beside my two excessive bookshelves, covered with twinkly lights, antique books, and candles. There's even a collection of vials and a wand.
So, I guess, there could have been worse places for an avenging wizard.
Getting home from work is both my least, and my favorite time of the day. It's time to finally relax and write fan fiction, but, I also feel the last of the work-stress rolling off of me and falling to the floor and pieces. My voice is usually cracking, and my throat sore, from being a helpful Barbie voice on the telephone all day. By the time I get home, my voice is like a pubescent teenage boy.
I like to come home to an empty, peaceful haven. My haven.
And today of all days, Dr. Strange stands in the center of my room, a twirling golden circle open behind him. A portal with edges like a sparkler on the fourth of July.
"Um," I say awkwardly, shutting the bedroom door behind me. Luckily my room is soundproof. "Doctor," I greet slowly. "What uh - what are you, uh, doing in here?"
"I'm here to collect a young man named Michael," Dr. Strange looks at me critically.
"Oh, ha," I say. "That's me. I'm Michael. It happens."
He tilts his head. "You're Michael? The scholar I'm supposed to collect?"
"I'm sure you're spelling it wrong in your head, but, yes," I set my purse down and kick off my heels. "But as this is obviously not a casual visit, please, call me Pippin. For. Uh. Internet reasons."
I quickly pull on a pair of thick socks and put on my black military boots that I use for my Black Widow cosplay. I mean - if we're going to FIFF - we gotta FIFF in the right clothes. For those of you who are new here, FIFFING means falling into fan fiction. It happens to some of us more often than not. I will never forget the ludicrous reactions of my Narnian companions reacting to my shorts and tank top and asking me if I had gotten robbed on the road. That's what I get for fiffing on a hot summer's day.
Man, those were the days.
"I don't care what you're called," Dr. Strange sighs with frustration. "And I don't necessarily care what you do from this point on except - wait, what are you doing?"
I'm pulling on my black Shield athletic sweatshirt, zipping it up. "Getting ready?"
"I have a short amount of time here," Dr. Strange exclaims, "If you're done getting dressed, you are to follow me through this portal and assist with…"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, another universe in jeopardy," I put my cellphone in one pocket, zipping that in. Then I dump my absolutely necessary items from my purse into a small black backpack. Anxiety medication, check. Wallet, check. Water bottle with my Captain America decals on it? Yup. And a bag of trail mix. I have hypoglycemia. Honestly, sometimes I'm Deadpool, defeating cancer and shit. But sometimes I'm the guy with the mustache rubbing sunscreen on my face with no superpowers.
"This isn't my first rodeo," I grin, quoting Agent Coulson. I cinch up the straps and look at him, and then back at the portal open and yawning black behind him. I feel a cinch of nervousness in my stomach. "So do I have time to pee before we go, or…"
"Absolutely NOT," Dr. Strange looks highly offended. "You will have to go in as unprepared…"
"Hey, I put on combat boots for this," I protest. "And I have my drugs. I am WELL prepared. What's the mission?"
"No mission. Merely - correcting. I would not expect you to understand. There were many threads to the outcome of this disaster, and we foresaw only one that would work. Just one."
I legitimately feel triggered by the dropped hint of the Thanos snap. Damn Easter Eggs.
"Uh, like, infinity stone level of disaster?" I ask.
"This has nothing to do with infinity stones," Dr. Strange puts a protective hand over the green stone in his pendant. "How do you even know of their existence?"
"You insult my intelligence," I gasp. "A girl can read."
"Well, whatever the hell your name is, Scholar, kindly follow me into the portal."
"You first, Stranger Things."
With a perturbed huff, he spins on heel, his cape flying out behind him with it's own flamboyant twirl. He disappears into the blackness of the portal, and I jump in after him.
For a moment I feel as if I am just standing in utter darkness, but not a darkness because it's nighttime or an otherwise absence of light. It's inside darkness itself, an entity, that breathes and considers where to put me next. But then, I sense light growing like the portal edges from before, sparkling like firecrackers. It opens up immediately to my left, letting in a grayish blue light, and I jump right through.
I collide with another body somewhere in a dark, muffled room. We both scream simultaneously, staring at each other in the dim lighting.
"Oh my GOD!" she yelps.
"CRYSTAL!?" I shriek back. "What are you? What ARE you - doing - wait, what?"
"What is HAPPENING," she exclaims, somewhere between laughing hysterically and just feeling hysterical. "Are we in a CLOSET right now? How did you get in here?"
"How did YOU get in here?"
"Dr. Strange showed up at my house," Crystal says emphatically. "And he was like, hello, please follow me into this swirling vortex of death."
"So of course you went through," I add.
"OF COURSE I DID," she laughs. "I mean, it's Dr. STRANGE. How could I NOT?"
"So why isn't he in here with us?" I look around the cramped room. There's a small cupboard without doors filled with cleaning supplies and a counter with a single sink. There's a mop leaning against the wall and a bucket on wheels. "In this very nice janitor's closet?"
"Good question. Why would he leave us in here?" Crystal marches over to the door. "Do you think he LOCKED us in here?" she grabs the knob and yanks way too hard. The door pops open instantly and she practically falls out. I trip after her, pushing the door open the rest of the way so that the space floods with light.
"Oh my god, you look SO CUTE," I squeal now that we have better lighting.
"I got this shirt at TARGET," she replies.
"No WAY!"
"Seriously!"
I cackle and glance out into what I thought was a hallway.
Oh, no.
It's not a hallway. It's like, half of an entry.
An entry that opens immediately out into the recreation room of the Avengers Tower. Yes, that room. The room where Stan Lee parties hard with all the Avengers in Age of Ultron. There's couches, coffee tables, (fancy ones), recessed lighting over the huge oval space. There's a bar along the left wall, screens near the right, and on the far end, massive floor to ceiling windows two stories tall. Half of the huge room is dissected by modernized stair planks that go up to a balcony, halls disappearing in either direction.
Most of the Avengers are sitting in couches, staring at us, mouths open with shock.
...
Well, what did you think?! Totally crazy, right? Please join me in wishing a very very happy happy birthday to Crystal!