#I love that Anthony was just willing to throw this thing out there and deal with the consequences | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

swallowedbyfandom · 4 months ago

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She sits down with her mama after leaving Bridgerton house. She figures if she has already burnt two bridges this evening, another will hardy matter. She regrets her decision after listening to her mama shriek and squawk about her sitting room seconds after she opened with,"I am Lady Whistledown." Deciding that her head hurts too much to listen to her mama's blustering she redirects the conversation into more pertain matters.

"Mama for the love of all things holy, please do control yourself! As I was hoping to explain the Crown's inquiry into our estate has come to an end. The Queen is aware of my identity and that I have funneled much of my income into paying off the most pressing debts against our estate. I have also made a few investments under papa's name that have helped us fund our lifestyle. It is implied that your recent inheritance was from that income. It would behoove you to let that story continue. While I am aware of where that inheritance most likely came from, I cannot claim to have any genuine knowledge. I would like it to remain that way."

"The Queen wants my identity to remain secret. So you are not to breathe a word of this to anyone. We have agreed that I will announce my retirement in my next issue. The Queen wants to avoid anyone piecing together my upcoming marriage and move to Vienna with the end of Whistledown. Her majesty is most pleased with my courtship with Lord Samadani."

She watches as her mama attempts to reorder her upstanding of the world. She should warn her mama that the Queen wants to plan the wedding but that will just set her off again. No it is better to throw Colin under the carriage to distract her mama from further questioning. Yes. That is the better course of action set her Mama on Colin for being cruel and trying to shame her. Let him deal with her mama's plots, while she continues her courtship with Samual peacefully.

She gets up and pours herself and her mama some wine.

"Mama I need your help."

Portia scoffs at this pled, "What help could you possibly need from me? After publishing how tasteless and tacky, I am? After ruining our good name by exposing Marina's shame for the world to read?"

Internally she rolls her eyes at her mother's pettiness. Their home and their clothing have always been a gaudy assault on the eyes. However she imagines the Queen would sooner forgo her wigs than her mama admit she has no taste what so ever. She decides to leave her mama to her delusions.

"It would have looked suspicious if I did not write about what society was saying about us. Besides, Lady Cowper was the one who started the rumor that you were color blind. I have tried to protected us!"

"Whether you realize it or not, Anthony Bridgerton is dangerous! He can also count. It would have been obvious Marina's children were not Colin's. Do you really believe he would have shown us mercy? If he believed we aided in putting some stranger's bastards in line for his family's inheritance? He would have destroyed us all."

"Mother, we were ruined the second Marina entered our home! I did the best I could to minimize the long term damage. There was only so much I could do. Everyone in society claims you to be a desperate title chaser! I could not spare you from the fallout but I could spare my sisters and I. I thought you would willing deal with scrutiny and the cut direct so long as your daughter's remained secure."

"I did not write the things I wrote to hurt you."

Her mama jumps out of her chair in a rage. "That vile scarecrow said that?"

She gives her mama what she hopes is a consoling look.

"Yes, mama. However I am worried about Mr. Bridgerton. I formally cut ties with him this evening. You know how the Bridgertons hate being told no! I worry that I will be distracted by his shenanigans. What if he attempts to interfere with my new courtship? Oh, mama! Just look at how he ruined my proposal from Lord Debling! The Marquess is an even better match! What if he scares him off?"

"No!" Her Mama firmly states, "Colin Bridgerton may have cost us an Earl but you have gained something better. You must focus your attention's on Lord Samadani. While he appears positively besotted with you, we cannot afford to let his interest wane. Nor can we afford to have some light skirt use your distraction to peddle her comforts to him. You are to put Mr. Bridgerton out of your mind. I shall handle him."

Her mama runs her critical eyes over her.

"You must rest immediately. You need to look your best tomorrow for your suitor. You must continue to dazzle him. The Queen's favor likely depends on the outcome of this courtship. "

She lets out a relieved sigh, "Thank you, Mama. Good night." Her mama waves her off distractedly. If Colin wants to play the victim, she shall let her mama make him one! She smirks the entire way back to her chambers.

Portia is so terribly aghast. Her daughter a gossip writer! If the Ton ever learned the truth, she shudders to think on it. Good Lord, she has always said nothing good can come from reading! To think she always thought Penelope her most timid child. She scoffs. That girl is everything but timid.

There is a part of her she can admit that is also terribly proud of Penelope. Her Penelope has held society in the palm of her hand from the shadows for three seasons. Even now that her youngest has stepped into the light she still holds power. After that messy situation with Lord Debling, her daughter gave no quarter. She watched Penelope plot her way into being the most sought after lady of the season!

She has watched in disbelief as her daughter captivated the men of society. She has watched her run circles around the gentlemen vying for her attentions. She had thought Penelope reckless in how picky she was being. It is clear to her now, that Penelope was not desperate for a match. Penelope wanted to be married but she did not need to be marry. She had never imagined any of her daughters would wield such a freedom.

Well, she has failed Penelope in the past but no longer. If Penelope is ready to marry Lord Samadani then she will clear the way for her. She will not let that ridiculous Bridgerton boy stop her. Penelope has made her choice! Colin Bridgerton will accept it or she will ruin him!

It only takes four days! Four days for that idiot boy to try something! She cannot believe the nerve of him, trying to make her daughter jealous. As if Penelope has not already proven she is too good for him! Portia cannot believe her luck! When that whorish glutton's trousers split she makes her move. She gleefully shamed that child in public! She felt a momentary twinge of pity for Violet but really what was she thinking letting him run about in public half dressed? Really, she is doing Violet a favor. Not that Violet will thank her for it.

She gets a marvelous idea watching as all the ladies flee from him. She barely refrains from cackling as she orders her staff to pack up. Then she marches her girls from Hyde Park straight to church. If she had to enact some hysterics to have their eyes washed out with holy water, who could blame her? She is a widowed mama concerned for the virtue of her daughters! If her hysteria triggered Phillipa and Prudence into dramatically begging for prayers lest they be accused of adultery, how is that her fault?

In the end it is Penelope the priest is most moved by. Gentle, demure Penelope who asked tearfully what penance she must undergo to be considered chaste enough to marry under the eyes of god. The priest is appalled by her fears and ends up assuring Penelope her virtue is safe. He sends her youngest daughter off with an extra blessing to ease her shock.

Sunday service is her crowning achievement.

#bridgerton #bridgerton s3 #unhinged penelope featherington #violet bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #portia featherington #no hea

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louisweasleyisgonnakickyourarse · 10 months ago

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Louis was gaining on Beavens quickly, but not without cost. Beavens and Louis both had known the Ravenclaw was the faster of the two. He was smaller, lighter, and physicality aside, they had competed together for years now on the pitch. Beavens had known what to expect when he took off into the woods because of that. So he purposefully whipped back the branches as they went causing them to snap back into Louis, tearing at the younger wizards flesh and clothes.

The sting did little however to the part Veela. He was incensed to the point he could process little else other than the unadulterated hatred he felt for Anthony. Louis didn't have the skills at seventeen to deal with the complicated feelings that surrounded existing in a relationship with someone who had been abused and as a result lived with the trauma of it. Caerwyn's trauma from Beavens had colored every part of their relationship, had caused them nearly to split despite how disgustingly earnestly they loved one another. And then to have to see with his own eyes Caerywn get assaulted, it broke him. This was not something he could soothe away with a kiss. It was not a nightmare he could hold her through.

Desperate and aching and reeling from his own lack of ability to care for the most important person in his life, Louis sought out physical restitution. Louis knew it wouldn't magically solve everything when he got rid of Beavens, but to see the light fade from his eyes, to feel Beaven's pulse die beneath his own palm, to know for certain that particular wicked creature would never hurt Caerwyn again was the only things that Louis felt he could do to try and at least ease Caerwyn's trauma.

Beavens and Louis eventually emptied out into a clearing after crashing through about a quarter mile of dry Scottish brush. Their chests heaved, breath blowing out in clouds of steam around their heads. Beavens finally turned, wand drawn, and shot a spell Louis didn't recognize. Blue lighting spit from the tip. Louis lounged towards the ground, trying to roll out of the way, but was not fast enough in this instance. The lightning hit Louis in the ribs, dropping the redhead to the ground instantly. Louis convulsed as a pain unlike anything he'd experienced before wracked his body. His vision spotted as he let out a scream. Beavens took this opportunity to do it again, laughing this time as Louis thrashed on the ground, muscles trying desperately to work with the foreign electricity running through it. What in truth were only moments, seemed a lifetime to Louis, until finally, mercifully, his body stilled. Nausea came over him in a wave, but he hadn't the strength to turn himself over and throw up. His entire body ached and burned, not responding to Loui's desperate mental please to move. Through slitted, unfocused eyes, Louis could make out Beavens come into view, towering over the Ravenclaw with his wand still pointed. "To the death, right Louis?" Beavens asked with a cruel grin. Again Louis tried to move, but he couldn't . . .everything hurt. . . he was so tired. . . "I bet you regret saying something that stupid now." Beavens cocked his head, observing his handy work with glee. "I had been worried about this duel to tell you the truth. If there was anyone mad enough to kill over some pussy it would be you." He got closer to Louis now, squatting down beside him. He drew his wand tip gently down the side of Louis' face, but despite the light pressure Louis knew this to not be a sign of mercy, but a threat. It may as well have been a knife. "Yet. . . here we are." Beavens continued. "I do have to say though, seeing what you are willing to do for that grimy little cunt of witch has me curious as to what I missed out on. I guess I'll just have to find out after you're gone. Do tell though, Louis, where do you put the bag you use to cover her face when you fu- Louis crashed his head against Beavens with a thunderous crack. The skin on both their foreheads split at the impact. When Beavens' eyes looked into the face of Louis Wealsey though, he did not recognize the creature before him. He watched in grotesque horror, wand knocked and forgotten as what once was a young wizard metamorphosized before him. Louis bowed his back, something clearly moving beneath his shirt as released another pained cry. an pressed his head against the earth. "Bloody-" But the curse died on Beavens lips as he watched with a suddenly sinking and sickened stomach as bloodied copper wings broke through the flesh and clothing on Louis' back. The thing that looked up at Beavens now was not Louis. It's eyes glowed an eery haunting silver, scales the color of slate curled across his cheekbones leaving behind trails of blood from the flesh they had pushed away. Claws, long and razor-sharp extended from what had been perfectly normal-looking hands only moments ago. This was no man. No wizard. "W-What are you?"

Duel to the Death

Caerwyn was anxious. It had been several days since the incident in the library, since Louis had threatened Beavens, since he had taken her to the safety of the showers to help her wash up, to remove any of the remaining disgusting trace of the older Gryffindor who had done her so wrong and fill her with the kind of love she needed. Louis was on a war path. There was no convincing him that the duel was not a good idea, that even if they were off school grounds, there was a possibility of him getting expelled. Caerwyn had tried, telling him that it was better to just let it go, to ignore Beavens and just… get on with their lives. It wasn’t like her to avoid fights like this, she would have normally been the one throwing the first punch, to take on whomever had wronged her… except when it came to Beavens. He was an anomaly and Louis had decided to take it upon himself to take care of the rotten fucking bastard. It was what he did though, Louis. Taking care of Caerwyn in every single way he possibly could as often as he could. Sometimes he did it even when she tried to refuse it, and in the end, it always turned out that he was right. She did need him to look after her, at least to a point. Now, he had determined that it was necessary to take care of her in this way too, to make Beavens pay for his misdeeds and demolish him in every way possible. As the days before the duel came to an end, Caerwyn had nearly bitten through her bottom lip with worry. One, because while Louis was a good fighter, he was also a year younger than Beavens and therefore, knew less magic. That meant he was at a disadvantage, but at the same time, what Louis lacked with magic, he more than made up for with intensity and a whole lot of ass kicking under his belt already.

As dawn approached on the day of the duel, Caerwyn’s eyes were already open, staring across the dimly lightening Ravenclaw sixth year boys dorm. Louis was warm at her back, wrapped tightly around her. The book he had been studying lay open on the foot of the bed, the one Caerwyn had tugged away from him, insisting on some much needed sleep before the big day. She had barely rested properly herself, worry filling her as she’d laid there, tucked safely beneath her boyfriend’s chin as he had drifted off. She had maybe gotten a couple of hours at most, scattered and restless until she just simply couldn’t keep her eyes shut any longer. Instead, she stayed still, feeling the gentle rise and fall of Louis’s chest against her back, the soothing beat of his heart, and the solid weight of his arms around her, keeping her close and safe. Soon though, Caerwyn began to shift, unable to stay still any longer once the sun had come most of the way over the horizon. She slipped out from under the blanket, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to where her boots sat, set neatly side by side where she would be able to get to them easily enough. She had opted for stealing a pair of Louis’s pajama pants and a hoodie for the night, her day clothes safely tucked away in the top of her boyfriend’s trunk. She would change into the before she left, but not just yet. Instead, she turned her head, looking down at the sleeping face of her lover. Louis looked peaceful at the moment, not at all how he had recently, the anger in his eyes clear as he had spent hours studying, practicing spells in order to prepare himself properly.

Caerwyn sighed, bringing one leg back up on her bed as she allowed the other to dangle, turning her body enough to reached out and press some of the floppy hair off of Louis’s forehead. He would need another haircut soon, before it got too long and started bothering him like it had before she’d given it a good trim on his birthday. She stroked lightly along his brow, hoping he would stay asleep, miss the duel… Maybe if she put some kind of mild draft in something and gave it to him in order to keep him down long enough to sleep until the evening. It wouldn’t work, she knew. Louis was too clever for something like that and he’d be even more pissed off when he woke even if he did fall for it. She sat there, watching him sleep as the first true rays of sunlight came down through the tall windows, bringing a golden glow to the room that she would have usually missed by sleeping through it. She stayed put, just watching Louis sleep, but he eventually began to stir, making her heart sink as the sun finally reached his face. With another sigh, Caerwyn brought her other leg up onto the bed and leaned over the redhead, pressing a light kiss to his lips. She waited until his brown eyes were opening and stroked at his cheek. “Morning, Fuckface.”

Reaching up, Caerwyn tugged the open curtain on his bed closed and rolled, tossing a leg over her boyfriend and resting her ass down on his pelvis. The tiny Gryffindor bent forward, hand finding Louis’s chin as her lips captured his again, pressing harder this time. Her tongue sought easy entrance, an idea having formed in her head. If she couldn’t keep Louis asleep, then maybe she could distract him long enough, keep him busy enough, so that he would forget about the duel entirely. She deliberately pressed her hips down and reached for one of his hands, tugging it by the wrist until she was able to press his palm carefully to the swell of her ass, knowing that this was the best way to keep his attention.

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bridgertonbabe · 3 years ago

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There's no way Benedict doesn't resents Anthony for what he did but like Daphne said "Benedict avoids conflict" and that's his peak behavior, even Luke Thompson said so before "Benedict is okay with people dragging him around" but there will be a moment that he will have to start to make choices for himself, Sophie is the moment he starts to do things for himself and by himself, he can't avoid conflict once Sophie is in his life and he very much knows that

I think following his father's death and with the countless butting of heads between Anthony and Violet, Benedict was forced into the position of being the mediator and emotional support brother/son to both of them. He hated the rows Anthony endured with their mother but he also hated how upset both got after an argument and would see firsthand just how hurt they both were from taking their frustrations out on the other, because it all stemmed from the grief they suffered following Edmund's sudden loss. And so Benedict allowed them to vent to him, allowed Violet to sob convulsively against him as much as he allowed for Anthony to rage and even shout at him over the slightest thing. Whatever helped either of them, Benedict allowed, in the hopes their sadness and pain would eventually lessen. I imagine he also had to be mediator for his younger siblings seeing as Anthony was occupied with his new duties and Violet was bereft in her grief. As much as Anthony had to step up to the plate, Benedict had to as well, acting as a pseudo counsellor for his whole family.

In S1 we see a couple of moments where Benedict jumps in to prevent conflict. When Berbrooke is causing trouble at the picnic, Benedict holds Simon off from attacking the man. Even the small scene at the breakfast table where Hyacinth is complaining that Gregory took her ribbon, Benedict is the one trying to defuse the situation. He's so accustomed to preventing conflict between others that it makes him avoid conflict by his own accord because it's easier and lessens his burden. He's witnessed the ways in which both parties suffer from a fight and not only does he not want to endure such hurt himself, he also doesn't want to be the person upsetting another. And so he puts up with Anthony teasing him for his art instead of having it out with him; the most he ever rubs anyone up the wrong way is in the brotherly needling he does of Anthony. He never says anything too harsh but he teases him enough to get his feelings across, and he deflects any actual anger with his jovial tone, so even if Anthony were to attack him it would make him appear to be the severe one who can't take a joke; thus avoiding any real conflict.

But the moment Sophie enters his life, Benedict will have to learn how to deal with conflict because Sophie isn't willing to go along with his easy solutions, not to mention any whisper of his affections for her would cause a backlash, of which he doesn't want to face the brunt of. Benedict's not a fighter by any means but it's something he eventually evolves into in his love for Sophie. He has to fight for her to reciprocate the love he knows she feels in equal measure to him, he has to fight against his own insecurities about what others might think of his relationship with her, and he ends up physically fighting the jail guard just to rescue the woman he loves. We'll see an evolution of Benedict remaining the family's biggest pacifist to becoming a fighting hero in his quest to be with the woman he loves and throw all caution to the wind. I think his family will be startled by the new side they see to Benedict but also come to realise he had no choice but to fall into the role as peacemaker of the family, as without him they probably would have never survived.

#asks #benedict bridgerton #benophie #my ramblings

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dynamicduoofstackie · 4 years ago

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I’m curious why SamBucky is so rare-ish in these streets when it comes to pairing Bucky with an MCU character? I get it, I get it, with the Stucky ‘end of the line’; we been teaming up since the comic book days spiel. I personally see Bucky and Steve as brothers after Captain America: The Winter Soldier cause it felt like Bucky was ready to adopt Steve after his mother, who was his only remaining family, died.

That’s me. I know everyone not going to see it in that light. But Bucky gives me big brother vibes whenever he has to save pipsqueak Steve in the MCU. Plus the original comics had Bucky as an adorable, little sidekick that would make you think reverse big brother and little brother, with Steve being the big brother and Bucky the little brother. I don’t read the comics so it might just me. No offense.

Is it really about the, Steve knew him longer thing? I mean other than possibly Natasha in the comics, Bucky has no clearly defined MCU love interests. Bucky was a flirt before he met Sarah Wilson, so him being able to flirt, just proves he’s coming into his own. I’m not saying he doesn’t like Sarah that way. But he also flirted with Peggy in the first Captain America movie because he’s a lady killer and was more than willing to take the two girls off Steve’s hand at the Stark Expo when Steve floundered. Steve/Tony I sorta get with the enemies to lover trope. The Bucky x Clint thing is really mind-boggling to me because there were no interaction between them in the MCU; so something must have happened in the comics. So okay... But the fact that Sam had more interaction with Bucky in the MCU and had a whole comic book series with him and Bucky shouldn’t have the ships OF SamBucky and Sam x Clint at a 700+ fanfic difference. Fandoms are so weird sometimes... anyway...

Sam and Steve are the only ones in the MCU who really interact with Bucky outside the strong and beautiful people of Wakanda. None of the Wakandians seem interested in Bucky, except in maybe a familial way. Like they found a stray cat, nursed and raised it; but the cat is still an outdoor cat that might visit from time to time, but is mostly out there doing its on thing. Just the feeling I get with how comfortable Bucky was interacting with Princess Shuri and/or the Dora Milaje. They respect him, fixed him, and let Bucky roam free.

Steve is somewhere on the moon or wherever, in The Falcon and Winter Soldier tv series and Sam is the only one willing to stay in contact with Bucky. Shoot in Endgame only Sam and Steve were Bucky’s only people because Steve protecting Bucky caused a rift between the Avengers. It was repaired, but Team Iron Man doesn’t know Bucky at all, and/or don’t seem interested. Team Captain America are either dead (Natasha), being with their family (Clint and Scott), or dealing with their own shit (Steve and Wanda). So that leaves Sam. That’s really no coincidence even though I’ll admit, Steve going to a support group to more Peggy instead of his two best friends that were recently missing was kind of shitty.

So again, getting back on track, why isn’t their more Sambucky love? We already know Stucky is default most popular in the fandom for Bucky pairing. But Sam, who has the enemies turn friends aspect about him and has been the only one, besides Steve, who openly tried to find Bucky. I mean what better love story is it for a man who went from thinking Bucky would be better off dead, to suddenly sacrificing his 9 to 5 and freedom to search for Bucky and help him escape the airport in Germany?

I mean SamBucky is one of the few ships that has a foundation of amazing content from Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan’s interactions with each other. Mackie and Sebastian literally went from play pretending like they couldn’t stand each other, to damn near needing someone to chaperone them in their interviews because they so random shit, flirt and love to be close. Sebastian has talked about Mackie more than any costar and Mackie has a wonderful knack for finding Sebastian on any red carpet event to compliment the hell out of him. They literally had a show created for the two characters because of that amazing chemistry and Sebastian even co-signed on it with this gem below.

The MCU was throwing Bucky and Sam together over and over again, way before they got their own tv series. They argued together, fought each other, tried to one up each other by ripping wings and dropkicking from the air. Even in the television show big-hearted Sam willingly allows Bucky to go on a top secret government mission with him. Checks in on him constantly to make sure he’s okay. The only one that defends Bucky against people like Zemo, Sharon and John Walker.

Sam really was the one person that helped put most of Bucky’s demons to rest in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. He gave him the tough love he needed in the end. He gave him purpose. He teased him like he was a normal person and not a former, brain-washed assassin. Sam watched over Bucky because he wanted to. Steve never asked him to check on Bucky. Steve never asked Sam to help him find Bucky. Steve never asked for Sam to sacrifice his freedom and go to the raft just so Bucky and Steve could escape in the airport. Sam volunteered to do that all on his own because he saw how worthy Bucky was.

Why else would Sam have him on a top government mission? Why else would he try to bail out Bucky from jail or follow Steve and Bucky against his Avenger allies? Why else would he let Bucky talk him into let Zemo go? Or any of the other insane things they did together, unless he didn’t care?

And that’s what Bucky needs, someone to give a damn about him. Someone to text him and chase after him. Someone to defend him and remind him that he’s not the Winter Soldier anymore. Someone to offer him a place to stay and normalcy. Someone who isn’t afraid to introduce to his family or watch his six in a battle. Someone touch him because he knows Bucky’s been touch-starved or tease him because he’s not afraid to be next to him.

Sam knows this Bucky. The Bucky who was determined to give the Shield to Sam. The Bucky who dangled kids off his arm while talking to Sam’s sister. The Bucky who has trouble sleeping at night because he still has demons. The Bucky who tried to kill him because he didn’t have control of his own body The Bucky who was just as broken as Sam when Steve just Peggy over them. The Bucky who is trying to find purpose in a world that has forgotten about him. He doesn’t have to remake himself into the old Bucky for Steve because Sam only knows this Bucky. Bucky doesn’t have to be anybody, but himself around Sam and he is.

I mean maybe people don’t care to pair Bucky with Sam because he was against saving Bucky the first time; or didn’t pull up the car seat; or didn’t want to jump in believing Bucky after he threw him across the room by his chin; or maybe because Sam’s black... WHO KNOWS.

I just thought it was odd that the fandom doesn’t respect Anthony Mackie as a whole, too. Like the poor man has to insert himself into interviews with his white costars just to not be pretty arm candy. But that’s another rant for another post.

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 years ago

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Anthony is still doing his Best Man Duties™️ i see. also Elias complaining as if he’s doing all the work sksks i love these two so much. but also, Elias should be the one turning down some too so he can practice until he has his own daughter. Anthony is now ahead of him in that department so keep up my dude. aww Aunt Lav being a protective big sister this is too cute. “If he can quarrel, he’s feeling better.” LMAO that’s one way to look at it i guess.

oh god not Miriam’s invitation. not them fighting over a piece paper LMAO children i tell you. also i can see what you’re doing there Anthony. he’s trying to rile her up bc i bet he finds it adorable when she’s a lil irritated.

“I mean, what kind I would use if I were getting married, but I’m not. I’m becoming a spinster.” // “No one in this room believes that.” No one in the whole world believes it. i mean hell, even Cherie herself doesn’t believe it since she’s still daydreaming about the paper she will use for the invitation lmao.

“Don’t worry, Anthony has that covered.” ah. that’s what best man’s are for, of course. The Chaos of Anthonias™️ will always make me smile like i love these two idiots so much. ANTHONY YOU SIMP. willing to use her excuse to ward off suitors bc it’s what she wants. ….a convent with jewelry and gowns. yeah, sure, that’s more believable than her becoming a spinster, i suppose.

sigh, i’m glad Elias and Cherie are slowly talking about it. like it feels nice that’s she’s able to reassure him and vice versa bc they are close after all. just showing him different perspective without invalidating his feelings. this is just so sweet honestly. and i’m glad Cherie is adamant on squashing the doubts in his head. oh god them recalling the good memories when Elias came to visit. and reassuring him that Cassie did love him so much and UGH I JUST WANT THIS FAMILY TO BE HAPPY DAMMIT. but honestly, this moment between them just warmed my heart.

she’s throwing Elias to the sharks right away help sksksks like father like daughter huh? like the second Percy announced Cherie as his daughter he said Elias, Deal With It™️ sksksks “You traitor…” LMAO. i can just picture Elias scrambling to find Anthony once Cherie left bc he is his number 1 suitor repellent. “Hello a bunch of men who will help me.” i love how she already has people to fill up her dance card lmao. also, Anthony being a step ahead like, if he can write his name on her dance card ten times he would. and of course, we always love to see Jealous!Anthony™️ in this house.

Kenneth with the rivalry pls he’s so real for that like. bc they can’t have Cherie they’re going to want her even more. it’s just this whole battle of who can “out man” who so if anything, it just makes things more difficult to know who has the best intentions. i mean we of course only know The One™️ but she’s still denying it so lol. omg she really she needs to stop this whole spinster thing lmao not even the frickin tiles on the dance floor believes her. Hugh not falling in love easily tho. i can tell it’s bc of what he saw with his parents so he’s more guarded and logical in that regard. ACTIVITIES!!! HUGH YOU (w)HORE™️ good for you king!! GOOD FOR YOU!! “God no.” talking about feelings during Activities™️ ??? yeah that’s a big no no in the Friends With Benefits Universe™️ Cherie i’m sorry. people think she’s insistent for “some reason” everyone then just pops out of nowhere with a whole list of things she’s been insistent about sksks.

*me gagging, heaving, choking* Miriam. she still hasn’t learned how? like i’m sure Cherie can make her life in the ton miserable especially with her officially as the duke’s daugther now. “How wonderful.” even i can feel how enthusiastic Cherie is when she said that skskskkskks. UGH. she’s spewing nonsense omg. she doesn’t know that the people she’s dancing with knowswho she’s going to marry already? of course she doesn’t bc she’s stupid to see what’s in front of her. Oh god why is Pierre back, i thought he was back in Paris? honestly, the more Miriam keeps talking the more i want to shove a shoe down her throat. honestly, Cherie should do that with her pearls. aggressive i’m sorry but she;s just being annoying. GOOOOOD how i baaaadly wished Cherie would just say something about the truth about her husband to be. gentleman my ass. i’d like to hear from you once you find out about the mistresses and the countless debts. “I would be more terrified if I were marrying a man whom I know deep down doesn’t love me, or a man whom I do not love.” YES YOU SAY IT.

wait, what were Cece and Anthony discussing? i bet it’s Anthony itching to propose again and Cece is just smack his hands sksks. oh pls Anthony reassuring her though. and giving her an example as to why it’s not a big deal to calm her a lil. so cute these two. Anthony smirking bc he KNOWS she’s a lil jealous. she calls it curiosity but all i hear is jealousy. HE WOULD NEVER LEAVE HER UNSATISFIED !!!! he needs to stop throwing these phrases with underlying meanings bc it’s not good for my heart. she’s so confused tho bless her ssksksks. i wonder how she’ll react once she knows about the Marital Affairs™️ and she’s going to look back at all their interactions and her questions sksks i bet she’d be so embarrassed.

PROTECTIVE!ANTHONY MY BELOVED <3 i don’t condone violence but yes Anthony, go wipe that mustache off Planktons™️ face. i hope it won’t be something incredibly stupid tho but he did have no right to talk about that. i mean, it is private. ALSO ANTHONY DON’T MISS THE DANCE PLS. honestly, she shouldn’t change her mind. i’m sure Aunt Lavinia can spill some tips and tricks on How To Get Away With Murder™️ and i mean, Miriam won’t be missed sksksksk. amazing as always honestly, i’m glad we got to have that moment with the siblings. and of course always happy to see Anthony being such a huge simp for Cherie. he’s now a man who’s deeply in love. Character Development™️ we love to is <3

– TM Anon™️

Omg darliiiing! ❤

Lolll I don’t think his best man duties will ever stop 😂 And Anthony is slowly becoming an expert on turning suitors down on Cherie’s behalf 😂

also i can see what you’re doing there Anthony. he’s trying to rile her up bc i bet he finds it adorable when she’s a lil irritated. OMG EXACTLYYYY! 😍❤ I love this idea so much! 😍

Cherie keeps saying that she will become a spinster but like, she totally doesn’t believe it deep down 😂

The Chaos of Anthonias™ They are so chaotic! 😂 And I think it will get even worse when they become brothers-in-law😂 Like, subtle but chaotic 😂

Elias and Cherie needed that conversation for sure! ❤ I think they are (mostly Cherie is) slowly starting to understand there are so many things they didn’t know about their parents’ marriage and their parents as people, if that makes sense ❤ And the only people who can understand that are each other, so I think it will get them closer ❤

number 1 suitor repellent I AM SCREAMING AT THIS! 😂

Jealous Anthony is so much fun😏

The competition yessssss! 😂 I think up until Cherie gets engaged, those suitors will be annoying her (and annoying Anthony) 😈

Tiles on the dance floor omg 😂

HUGH YOU (w)HORE™ good for you king!! THIS IS HILARIOUS😂

Oh yeah but unfortunately, Miriam can make her life miserable as well, seeing that she is soon to be married and Cherie isn’t 😂 Married ladies were respected more than unmarried ones back then in the Regency era and Miriam is planning to use that a lot 😈

SO WAIT WAIT-

Do we think Miriam knows about the mistress yet or? 😏

Yessss that was exactly what they were discussing 😂 Like, I think Anthony is getting very impatient and restless and Cecily is like “NOT YET” 😂

i wonder how she’ll react once she knows about the Marital Affairs™ and she’s going to look back at all their interactions and her questions sksks i bet she’d be so embarrassed. WAIT THIS NEEDS TO HAPPEN! Cherie would literally be lying in bed and all of a sudden she would it would flash in her mind, and she would sit up and go like “Wait a minute…” 😂

I think we will see more of Protective!Anthony and it will be so much fuuuun! 😂

More in love scenes are comiiing 😈 Character development my beloved 😂

Honeeeey you’re amazing, thank you so much for this! ❤ ILY! ❤

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magdaclaire · 4 years ago

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don’t ask me

read it on ao3

“What about you, Rhodes? You got a lady back home?”

The question is met with silence as James Rhodes stands in the barrack, just offering a salute and a laugh in response. The asking officer snorts, turning and moving on with his day, but James Rhodes does not move on. He pulls a photograph out of his breast pocket, examining it with eyes that have seen it a thousand times, but still not enough times to get him through the harsh desert without looking at it again. It pulls at his heartstrings the same every single time, making him want to walk back across the sea and wrap his arms around the focal point of the photo and never let him go. His chest aches with missing his best friend, but the look of him still brings a smile to Rhodey’s face.

His best friend, of course, is Anthony Edward Stark.

The picture is one of their most innocuous photographs, just two best friends standing together, you can hardly tell that James Rhodes is ass over tea kettle in love with a boy he met when that boy was fifteen and he was damn near nineteen - he had no business -

“No.” The brokenness of it startles even himself.

He tucks the photo back into his jacket roughly, stands up and leaves Jones and Ortega in the Barracks, finds himself somewhere else to be. He and Tony have never been romantic. He and Tony will never be romantic. He’s Tony’s first friend, and was Tony’s only friend for a long, long time, such a terrifyingly long time, so long that James was scared that he would never be able to leave for the military at all. God, he hates himself every time he thinks about how much he fucking loves Tony. He didn’t love him, not like that, not when they met. He didn’t realise he did for the longest time, and maybe that was a shame. He didn’t realise he was hip deep in love with Tony Stark until the boy was nineteen and a cocaine nightmare that James had to scrape off of the floor. He didn’t pick up the cocaine until James was already signed up to be shipped off, until he was already committed.

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever forgive himself for that.

He knows, logically, that it’s not his fault if Tony goes off the deep end. That Tony is a grown man now and certainly was never James’s responsibility in the first place, not legally nor morally, just emotionally and by love and by family, goddamn it. Tony is family. James’s family is the only family that Tony has, too, because Tony’s dad did a number on him that James can’t undo, but maybe they can help, maybe a three year old’s birthday party, and a five year old that loves to make him come paint with her, and a family is enough. That’s one of the many, many reasons why James can’t afford to jeopardize what they’ve got. He’s the best friend he’s ever had.

He put Tony in rehab before he shipped off. He made Stane promise to keep him in there until he was better. As much as he doesn’t like Obadiah Stane, they’ve always agreed on Tony.

He writes a lot of letters to Tony, to his Mama, to his sisters, to anyone he can think about writing them for. He sends most of them. He sends all of the ones he writes for his Mama, most of the ones he writes for his sisters. He only sends about half the ones he writes for Tony; half of them are written for Tony, his best friend. The other half are written for Tony, the man he’s in love with. Those letters get burned in the barrels that Jones and Ortega light up with some of the other troops when the nights get cold and they have free time and a village close, otherwise they stay tucked in his jacket. Can’t risk anyone reading them.

Can’t risk them getting mixed in with the other mail and actually getting sent. Because he does address them. He does put them in envelopes. It helps, sometimes, to pretend he’ll actually tell Tony someday. To pretend Tony might want that too. He doesn’t realise that he’s wandered until he hears someone calling his name, and then he’s hitting the ground because something is exploding. Gunfire. He doesn’t have a fucking gun with him. He’s going to fucking die, and he’s not going to see Tony again.

“Rhodes, get the fuck back to camp! Head west and stay low. Do not get hit or I swear to God, I will kill you myself. I’ll cover you,” Williams barks at him, the M4 in his hand glinting as he pushes Rhodey against the wall of a building. Cover. Fuck. Okay. Cover. “Don’t go toward town, we’ve got guns in town. Just toward camp. Keep your head on your shoulders, Rhodes. And fucking run.”

So, James runs. He hauls ass more than he has ever fucking hauled ass before in his life, even if they weren’t supposed to be in combat today. Fuck, he wasn’t supposed to see combat today. He runs anyway, runs west, and there’s gunfire above his head and he feels like a fucking coward and he pushes that down because he was told to run. He’s not gonna ruin whatever Williams wants him to be doing because he feels like a goddamn coward. He’s a good soldier. He’s a good soldier. He’s gonna stay alive. He has to. He has to see Tony again. God, Tony. He pushes the thought of Tony out of his head too because he has to, he runs west, and he hits camp.

Jones is dead.

It was a raid, something about how they’re lucky it wasn’t more of them, the way they’ve been goofing off and burning shit and they need to tighten up, but all James can see for a second is the way that he walked away from Jones what seems like minutes ago. He just saw him.

For some reason, he’s a little less scared after that. Scared to die, sure. If he thinks about Tony, thinks about him for even a second, he’ll send himself into that desperate panicky space that he just can’t touch, so he doesn’t. He sends Tony letters, but he doesn’t write the letters to not-Tony anymore. But the thing is, he’s not scared of rising anymore. He’s not scared to be something. Frank Jones, of the the guys he joined up with, one of the guys he met at the fucking registration office, is dead, and he’ll never get to do it. James shuts up and does his job, takes ranks and takes praises and takes it politely and quietly and doesn’t scream when the nightmares come even when Tony comes knocking in his dreams and when it comes his turn to go home, they have to tell him three times before he agrees.

By the end of his first tour, he’s a Master Sergeant. It’s still not where he wants to be.

The entire flight home, he’s trying not to think about Tony. God, Tony. God. He’s flying coach (because he wouldn’t let Tony pay) from London to Boston when it all hits him. God, he almost hadn’t come home. God, he could have died so many times. And he never would have told Tony. God, he almost didn’t come home. And he’s so, so in love with Tony Stark it’s fucking embarrassing and he’s never fucking told him and he’s going to land in Boston in less than an hour and he’s gonna have to look at him after pressing this down for months and it’s gonna be ugly. God, his mama is gonna be there. He’s gotta get home to Tony. To his mom. To Tony. To Tony.

He’s been promising himself that he wasn’t coming home to that boy, but God. James pulls himself together in an airplane bathroom just in time for the seatbelt light to come on. Get home to Tony. No more words unsaid.

He has to get off of the plane in an orderly fashion and find his bag, but then it’s just looking for Tony and what’s gonna be a ridiculous sign.

He’s not wrong.

HONEYBEAR <3

God, if James wasn’t in love with him, he’d fuckin’ kill him.

He’s in army fatigues, and it’s a really, really bad idea, but God help him, he kisses Tony anyway. He almost didn’t come home. He kisses Tony and God help him, Tony kisses him back, Tony drops the sign on the ground and kisses him back. Vaguely, he feels his Mama pat him on the back and hears her say something about welcoming him home, but he’s kissing Tony Stark and he’s not paying his Mama nearly enough of his attention to know what she’s saying. He doesn’t pull away until Tony does, his hands on Tony’s lower back, towering five inches over Tony like he always has (used to be even more, Tony was only 5’4 when he got him, and James has been 6’2 since he was 17), and God, he loves Tony so goddamn much. A cleared throat damn near scares James enough to crush Tony against his chest, but he recognises the voice before he can.

“Guess you don’t have a lady at home, huh, Rhodes?” Ortega asks, throwing a wink his way. James flips him off. Ortega walks away, doesn’t even kick up a fuss about it, and James really thought if anybody saw this, it would be a bigger deal. Instead, Tony

“Come on, Rhodey, lemme take you to dinner. We have reservations,” Tony says, grabbing at Rhodey’s hands. His Mama reminds them there by stepping closer, pulling both of them into a group side-hug.

“I’m gonna let you boys go by yourselves, if that’s alright. A lady can do a lot of things, but third wheel on her son’s long overdue first date? Not something she’s willing to do. Take him to a movie or something afterwards, won’t you, Tony? Must be boring over there with all that sand. You boys have fun,” Mama says, kissing both of them on the head before leaving, taking James’s suitcase with her without a moment of negotiation. James looks at Tony for a moment, their eyes meeting only briefly before they’re both bursting with laughter, leaning against each other in the middle of the airport.

“Wanna come to the apartment to shower and change? I still have lots of your clothes,” Tony says, looking up at him with big brown eyes all shy like James wouldn’t follow him any fucking where, and James kisses him again, real brief this time, and picks up the sign from the floor.

“Lead the way.”

#rhodeytony #ironhusbands #tony stark #james rhodes #mine #this has been on ao3 for a few days #and most people who have gonna read it have already #but it never really got its own post on my blog #so here it is #enjoy!#minor character death cw #military cw #gun cw

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ordinaryschmuck · 4 years ago

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What I Thought About The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Salutations to you, random people on the internet who most likely won't read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!

Gonna be honest, I didn't think The Falcon and the Winter Soldier needed to be a full-length TV series. I mean, if Spider-Man can discover that he didn't have to replace Iron Man in a two-hour and nine-minute long movie, then the Falcon can learn he can't replace Steve Rogers in the same amount of time, right? I was excited, don't get me wrong, but I didn't know how they can fit a plot for a movie into a six-hour-long series. Unlike WandaVision, which needed to be a TV show to get those TV homages right for each episode, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier didn’t sound like something that would honestly work better as a film. But, once it started airing, and my excitement increased each week, I can positively say that it would not have worked as successfully if it wasn't a TV series.

Unfortunately, I'll have to get into spoilers to explain why, but trust me when I say that if you haven't checked it out yet, you definitely should. Because I'm about to dive in (or fly in) as I explain why The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is easily in the top tier MCU projects.

WHAT I LIKE

Sam Wilson: If WandaVision was about developing Wanda, then The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is about developing Sam. He might share the spotlight with Bucky, but this is so clearly Sam's story. It's his journey of becoming the new Captain America that gets more of a focus, and it is one of the best aspects of the series. And as I said, it's similar to Spider-Man's journey in Spider-Man: Far From Home. Sure, this time, it's more about stepping up to the mantle, but both Sam and Peter have to learn how to be their own hero rather than replace the one left behind. In Sam's case, it's more than just being the new Captain America, but also being the black Captain America. I'll talk more about the implications of that later, but for now, all I'll say is that it was so engaging seeing Sam accept his role. Plus, even though Sam tries to carry Steve's title, that doesn't mean he's Steve Rogers 2.0. He has his own ardor and personality as Captain America, on top of still representing the aspects of what that title entails. Partial credit for that goes to Anthony Mackie, who does a phenomenal job of portraying a man who's inspirational and charming in all forms of hell. I'd salute him as much as I'd want to have a beer with him...except not really because I refuse to touch a single drop of alcohol. But Sam Wilson would make me consider it! Because he's that good of a character.

Bucky Barnes: Much like Vision in WandaVision, Bucky takes the sidelines as Sam acts as the main face of the series. Unlike Vision, however, Bucky's story seems more like its own thing rather than something that's connected with his co-star. In a way, it's better, but it also seems worse. Because without having it be locked with Sam's story, Bucky's is still compelling as it develops him further in his own way. His journey may not be as engaging as Sam's, but it's still entertaining enough to watch his own narrative get continued in small spurts. Although, the fact that Bucky's story has little to do with Sam's does have the unfortunate side-effect that he doesn't need to be there. His inclusion is very much welcomed, but I feel like Bucky dealing with his own guilt and trauma as the Winter Soldier could be something that can fill up its own series rather than half of one. That being said, Bucky absolutely needs to be in this show. The emotional turmoil that Sabastian Stan portrays so well hits hard, and his dry humor works for some comedic highlights. Bucky's half of the story might be unnecessary for plot reasons, but it is unquestionably necessary for enjoyment.

There’s a lot of talking: This seems like a misstep, especially since most superhero shows are bogged down by characters talking to pad out the run time. Although, the dialogue in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is more like the dialogue in the series Daredevil. There are more words than action, but nearly every line is so incredibly engaging that I do not care. Sam and his sister talking to a banker about getting a loan might not sound as entertaining as Sam being in an air chase against terrorists, but I surprisingly held onto every word being said due to how well-acted it was. Plus, these discussions help make these characters more human on top of making the world feel believable. I understand the argument of show don't tell, but to me, as long as the dialogue is written well enough and said convincingly, I can learn to live with it.

The Flag Smashers: The concept of the Flag Smashers intrigues me. The idea that a group of people believes things were actually better when half the world got turned to dust is a perfect concept for the MCU to explore. In fact, this is the third story in a row that dives deep into the consequences of what happened post-Infinity War and Endgame, and I'm all for it! The universe is forever changed by this one big event, and it's not going to be irrelevant anytime soon. For the Flag Smashers, they offer the most striking glimpse of how the world is forever changed. Now, I'll admit, after seeing doom and gloom in Avengers: Endgame, it would be better to see the benefits of the Blip that characters claim to have existed rather than told about them. But seeing how there were dozens of fans who made the audacious claim that Thanos was right, I don't consider it too far of a stretch to believe that the Flag Smashers could exist. Especially since the arguments that characters present do seem persuasive enough. It's only the actions that the group makes that derail any sense of the discussion. But in a good way...for the most part. But I’ll get into that later too.

The Reveal of the new “Captain America”: This was the dirtiest, sickening punch in the gut that the first episode could have ended on...and I love it!

John Walker: I often find the best antagonists are the ones I'm willing to psychologically analyze. That's John Walker in a nutshell. He is an arrogant ass who deserved to get slapped around when taking things too far. Yet, I always find myself coming back to those scenes where he seems conflicted about becoming the new Captain America. I get a sense that he genuinely wants to do the right thing and those moments when he asks if he is all but confirms it. John's problem is the constant support he's given by his friends. I'd argue that building his ego is the very reason why he gets frustrated so quickly by people denying him, as he often reacts like a toddler who throws a tantrum when a parent makes the "mistake" of saying “no.” This is why it's satisfying seeing people more powerful than John kick the s**t out of him because it results in his ego going through a well-needed deflation. Still, the constant frustrations he has for not being respected as the new Captain America makes his further descent into insanity all the more appealing to watch. Because him taking the super-soldier serum proves Dr. Erskine's theory is true: "Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse."

...And this is why the writers dropped the ball when trying to make John Walker redeemable. It's exceptional if that was the intention. After all, I did say there were glimpses of a man who wanted to become great, not worse. However, given what John does in later episodes, we're going to need more than glimpses to believe his switch from bad to good. Especially since his decision to set his anger aside to suddenly help people is a little too unbelievable for my tastes given how fast it happens. It's not an awful decision. It's just one that needed a bit more polish. I still find John Walker an incredible character regardless, but I don't blame people for being a tad more hesitant given how poorly paced his redemption arc came across as.

Readapting “Star-Spangled Man”: I adore this for two reasons.

Reason #1: It's a solid callback to Captain America: The First Avenger, which I will always stand by as my favorite Captain America movie.

Reason #2: It proves how much John Walker doesn't understand what it means to be Captain America. When Steve did this song and dance routine in his movie, he hated it. Better yet, Steve despised it. Because he wasn't helping anybody. He was just being a dancing monkey to appeal to civilians, and you see how much he regrets doing it with each show. For John, he relishes the whole thing, because of course, he would! John loves having his ego appealed to, and this routine is doing nothing but inflates it. It's a solid case of visual storytelling to prove to the audience just how disconnected John is from being Captain America. Steve or Sam wouldn't have done this, because being a hero is more than respect and adoration. It's about actually doing the right thing. A lesson that John desperately needs to learn.

Sam’s and Bucky’s bromance: You remember how I said that Bucky's dry sense of humor can be a comedic highlight? Well, that's only second rate to the times he and Sam bicker like an old married couple. Whether it's because of the writing, directing, or Makie’s and Stan's natural chemistry, seeing Sam and Bucky interact with each other is always a blast to see. And on top of being funny, there are these well-handled moments of drama shared between both characters that make their relationship convincing. It's why you can't have this series without Bucky, despite it so clearly being Sam's story that gets the more focus. Because without either character, we would miss out on some entertaining interactions that I wouldn't trade for anything else for this series.

Isaiah Bradely: Well, this character was a pleasant surprise. Although, "pleasant" might not be the right word because every scene with Isaiah is absolutely gut-wrenching in all the right ways. Carl Lumbly gives a phenomenal performance for a character that has been beaten down, with very little hope he has for any change that matters for his race. Plus, his backstory may not be as unbelievable as you might think. Between 1932-1972, America performed what is known as the Tuskegee Experiment. Scientists tested the effects of syphilis by injecting it into African Americans, telling them that they were receiving free health care when they didn't. So the idea that scientists tested super-soldier serums on African Americans, not knowing the dangerous effects, is not that far of a stretch. Neither is the knowledge that a black man was disrespected despite fighting hard for his country. If you researched African American history, you'll find that this type of horse s**t happens way more times than it should. It is heartbreaking, and Isaiah Bradley represents all of it. Thus making the little Isaiah exhibit in the Captain America museum all the more tear jerking just because of how sweet it is to see him get some semblance of a win. This level of discussion of what it means to be an African American is something I never expected with The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, but I greatly appreciate it nonetheless. What's even better is that these discussions don't end with Isaiah.

The discussions of racism: Again, this was something I didn't expect, but grateful for it nonetheless. I mean, I should have expected it given that one of the co-stars is black, but given how the story was about Sam being the new Captain America, I didn't think discussion of racism and racial injustice would come into play. Turns out that I was naive to think those things are separate. The burden of being a black Captain America is something that not many white people, including myself, consider a big deal. But looking at America's past and how others react to any African American in power, you realize that, yes, it is a big deal. Isaiah, and several real-life POCs in history, prove that America doesn't respond well to a person of color being better than the average white man. So it is easily reasonable to believe that there would be issues with a black man becoming a symbol of what America should be. Hell, I'm willing to bet that there were issues when this happened in the comics way back when. Not because of some bulls**t about how it doesn't fit with the character or story, but solely because they can't handle a black Captain America. And if you don't believe something like this wouldn't happen to someone like Sam Wilson, look back to that scene with the police who didn't know he was the Falcon. This crap happens every day, and it's The Falcon and the Winter Soldier that shines a light on it. Despite being something I didn't expect, the talks of racism are very much appreciated. And I'm as pale white as an introverted vampire. I can't even begin to comprehend how the African American community must feel about all of this.

Zemo: Who the f**k expected this guy to be one of the best things in the series?!

Seriously, from Captain America: Civil War, I wasn't too into Zemo as a character. I loved the idea that this powerless guy tore apart the world's greatest superheroes through intelligence and coercion. But his needlessly complicated plan and stale personality weren't enough to win me over. So when he returned, I expected to dread every minute of it. Little did I know that Zemo's comeback would skyrocket him into top-tier MCU villain territory!

Zemo is a character that, despite "helping" our heroes, still works on his own agenda. He might put them on the right path and occasionally assist in a fight, but only because he still won't stop at anything to make sure fewer super powered individuals are in the world. Because that's the thing about Zemo: His motivation was fine and understandable to a point, but his personality was flawed in Civil War. Here, I finally see how Zemo can work. Despite having no power, he uses his mind to look for any angle to control the situation, gaining an advantage even if it is for a short time. For instance, while he can't harm Sam or Bucky without risking his own life or jeopardizing his temporary freedom, he can still annoy the hell out of them. Like when he forced Sam into a situation where he had to drink literal snake juice. It's actually a ton of fun to watch, and I'm honestly glad that Zemo gets to live to see tomorrow. It means that he might make another return, and I can't wait to see what's in store for him in the future. Which is something I didn't think I'd say five years ago.

The Dora Milaje: It was actually pretty cool seeing these characters make an appearance, notably when they slapped around John Walker like it was nothing. Although, a part of me wonders that if Chadwick Boseman hadn't died last year, we would get to see T'Challa himself make an appearance. This lines up with the character, as I can see him dropping everything to hunt down the man who killed his father. Which would be just as awesome, if not slightly more so, to see. Still, we work with what life gives us. And what it gave are awesome cameos that make the MCU feel more inclusive about its characters rather than limiting them to their specific sections in the universe.

Walker killing the Flag Smasher: There is something so wrong with seeing that shield stained with blood. 'Cause here's the thing: Captain American can kill. He's a soldier. It's expected for a soldier to take lives for the sake of justice. What John Walker did isn't justice. It was vengeance. Vengeance that is fueled by anger rather than the need to do the right thing. Because when Captain America leads an army to kill the man who whipped out half the universe, that's fighting for a just cause. But when “Captain America” kills a man, the wrong man, for killing his best friend, that is an act of selfishness that no one would see your side on. And it was the final nail in the coffin that proves how John Walker does not deserve that shield.

Sam and Bucky vs. John: This might just be the best fight in the entire series. Not only is it so satisfying to see John Walker get everything that he deserves, but the whole thing was pretty intense to watch. After seeing what John can do with that shield, it makes moments when Sam and Bucky barely dodge his attacks with it all the more blood-rushing to see. Plus, Civil War's motif playing the background is another solid callback that fits well narratively since this is technically two superheroes fighting another superhero. It's an incredible scene that was worth the wait of four hour-long episodes to see.

Setting up Joaquín Torres as the new Falcon: I don't know if Marvel will follow through with this or even if they should. That being said, if they do, I'm all for it. Joaquín already seems like a pretty fun character, and his interactions with Sam show there's enough chemistry there to give Captain America a new wingman. I probably won't lose sleep if he doesn't become the new Falcon, but I'll still be excited regardless.

Madame Hydra: I know that she has an actual name, but I refuse to remember it due to how long and convoluted it is.

Anywho, we get a small glimpse of who Madame Hydra is as a character, but already I'm intrigued. She seems to have a fun personality, added by Julia Louis-Dreyfus' dry energy. Whether this is set up for the next big bad or just introducing a fun character, I'm interested. Madame Hydra was already a blast in the short amount of time she was in the show, and I can't wait to see what future installments have in store for her.

“Louisiana Hero”: Or as I like to call it, "Sam's Hero Theme." Because while this is the track that plays for the intro, it still shows up when Sam is training as the new Captain America. Not only is it insanely catchy, but I love that you hear a hint of the theme of Captain America: The First Avenger, yet "Louisiana Hero" is still very much its own thing. And that's another reason why I consider it Sam's motif because it fits precisely with the character. Sam is a person who has a hint of the good man that Steve was but still does his own thing when wearing the stars and stripes. Not a copy, but still heavily influenced by the original. So kudos to Henry Jackman for creating a musical piece that fits so well with a character far better than any other themes or motifs prevalent in the MCU. Because, let's be honest, there aren't that many.

Sam’s new suit: ...I mean, it looks cool. Kinda corny at times, sure, but points for comic accuracy.

Sam Carrying Karli: I mean, look at it.

This looks like something that should be painted and hung up on a wall due to how beautiful it looks.

Sam’s Speech: Two meaningful things are going on with this speech.

First, it proves once and for all that Sam Wilson is Captain America. He doesn't just fight for his country. He also believes the government that runs it should take accountability for any missteps before dealing with something worse than a person who took the term "rebellious teenager" into an extreme.

Second, it is so satisfying seeing Captain America tell government officials off about unjust treatment. Even if it does diddly-squat about anything in the real world, it's still a big moment that's effective because of the bulls**t that happens every day. It's far from an actual win, but it still feels good (I hope). And that still counts for something, right?

“We’ll need a U.S. Agent”: Credit to Louis-Dreyfus for saying a stupid cornball of a name and making it sound...not that.

WHAT I DISLIKE

Still running that Marvel Studios logo in every episode: It's still a nitpick, but its still annoying. It's alright if you want to use the full fanfare for the first episode, but at least shorten it for the rest of the season. Please? For the love of all that is holy?

The CGI: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier has some pretty...not great CGI. It's not as awful as the CG in the DC shows on the CW, but it is way too easy to tell what looks real and what doesn't. Failing to make CGI convincing has been a problem in the MCU for a while, as most of the time, characters barely look like they really exist in the scene. To me, I compare it to when Red vs. Blue switches between actual animation and Machinima. The CG models stick out like a sore thumb to the in-game models, but at least it looks cool. Because while I don't believe that I'm seeing an actual man with bird wings flying through a canyon while chasing helicopters...it still looks cool. Still, not many people would be as forgiving as I am to this type of thing, so it's onto the dislikes it goes.

The direction of the action: Now I want to clarify that I have no problems with the action itself. Some fight scenes are pretty cool while also added with some exciting set-pieces that kept me engaged the whole way through. It's just the direction of the action that I have issues with. The camera is always shaky with so many cuts that it's hard to follow half the time. It's an understandable technique to hide the stunt double's faces or to make it look like it really is the actual actor who's doing the fighting. The issue is that once you know a show like Daredevil exists, with its plethora of well-directed action, the cracks in the armor become much more noticeable for a series like The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

Karli Morgenthau: Karli...frustrates me. Because on the one hand, Erin Kellyman does an impeccable job at portraying the heartbreak, frustrations, and determination that Karli has when fighting for her cause. On the other hand, Karli's cause is so layered with hypocrisy that it's hard to understand her position. She wants to prove how the world was better during the Blip, saying that everyone was happier then. So why do things like blow people up and kill “Captain America?” I get the latter. The guy's a d**k. But to prove to people how better things were, is death and destruction really the best choice to get that point across? I get the mentality of how people respond better to a harmful fist rather than a tranquil hand, but really, has that mentality ever worked out either?

However, you could argue that her hypocrisy is fueled by the super-soldier serum, with the "good becomes great and bad becomes worse" theory that John all but confirms. Although, unlike John, we never got to see Karli pre-serum, so we don't know how much it really had affected her. With John, it's easy as many scenes indicate how close he was to snapping and murdering someone who disrespects him. We don't get that for Karli and are left to assume she was already crazy about thinking how intense violence can show the world how great things were during the Blip.

Then again, that could be the plan. Show how a person with the best intentions is ultimately wrong, given the lengths they go through to accomplish them. It worked for Thanos, so it should work here. And it would have...if not for Sam saying that Karli has a point. Because for the main hero to say that the villain is correct, you have to show them doing more good than bad. I understand the mentality Karli, and the Flag Smashers, have. But by doing nothing but committing crimes and violence, any point they have is discredited. Take note of the fact that nobody but nutcases on the internet says that Thanos has a point. Because he doesn't. He's a maniacal supervillain who does something so intense that nobody should be on his side. It's similar with Karli, but because we're apparently supposed to agree with her, she doesn't work as well.

...DO YOU SEE WHY SHE'S FRUSTRATING?! Because while I can see how she can be an incredible character, there are so many holes in how she works that I fail to appreciate any of it. And seeing how she's the main antagonist, a character who takes up a good chunk of the screen time, it's not a good thing that she tends to flounder more times than she should. I want to like Karli, but given everything that's wrong with her, I just can't.

Rewriting Sharon as the Power Broker: This is an intriguing idea met with a mixed execution. You see, I like the idea of a character who was once an ally becoming a villain, yet the heroes have no clue about it whatsoever. It creates solid dramatic irony, but only if done well. With Sharon, it's not really done well. It genuinely feels like her character was changed radically to give her this personality. A fun personality, I'll add, but one that comes across as really jarring when looking back at her previous appearance. Don't get me wrong, a character's current personality feeling so radically different from their previous one can work a treat, but only when we see them go through point A to point B. We're told about the s**t that went down with Sharon, but unlike understanding the mentality of the Flag Smashers, her personality change would have been more effective if we saw it. So while I like the idea of Sharon becoming another big bad in the future, I would have liked it more if we saw her decline into possible villainy.

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

By using my usual scoring system for MCU shows and movies, I'd give this season of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier a solid 8/10. There are problems. Quite a lot of problems. Hell, even the stuff I like comes with a fair share of issues. It's just a matter of asking yourself, "Do I like some parts more than I dislike them?" For me, I find myself enjoying much more than I didn't. It's not perfect by any means, but while it definitely falters at times, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is a series that soars to great heights. You might not be in love with it, but you’ll have a helluva good time regardless.

Now if you don't excuse me, it's time I swap from one superhero series to another as I share my more in-depth thoughts on--

#marvel cinematic universe #the falcon and the winter soldier #mcu reviews #what i thought about

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living-dead-parker · 5 years ago

Text

Casino - P.P

Summary: Peter and reader have a special mission. Also, the team thinks reader has a thing for Tony and vice versa.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader, Tony Stark x Avenger!Reader (platonic!)

Warnings: age gaps, gambling, alcohol, clowning on Tony too much, honestly not compliant with any canon at this point,

Word Count: 2.2k

"Target is in position," you state as you keep an eye on the target. A smirk is quickly placed on your lips once he turns to look in your direction. He smirks right back at you before turning back to his game at hand. "P has approached the game table," you continue speaking and you turn towards one of the cameras, seeing it follow your line of sight towards the poker table. "I'm going in."

With that, you walk towards the Craps table, two drinks in your hand. You notice the target looking over at you as you walk over. If he wasn't such a piece of shit, you'd find him attractive. A silver fox with black roots, a trimmed beard, an all-black suit, and piercing green eyes. It looks like he smells of expensive cologne too. You, however, have your own silver fox back at the compound, so who are you to look around?

"Is Y/N really drooling over this old man?" Natasha asks as she watches the feed, turning to look at the others in the room.

"I mean, she's always flirting with Tony," Steve pipes up, a chuckle escaping Natasha’s lips.

"Constantly barking up the wrong tree, if you ask me," Tony chimes in, stepping in with a fresh mug of coffee. "It's flattering but Peter can actually keep up with her without bones cracking and all," he jokes.

Meanwhile, back in Las Vegas, at the MGM Grand Casino, you finally approach Peter, handing him a drink. Peter looks up at you, a smile on his lips as he takes his drink from you. Coincidentally, it's Peter's turn. So, Peter takes the chance, holding his hand up to you, the dice in his fist. Slowly, you bend down a little, locking eyes with the man as you blow into Peter's fist. Then, Peter rolls.

The game lasts a good half hour before Peter and the target are neck to neck and then. You finally decide to play your part. "Baby," you call out to Peter, just loud enough for the guy to listen. "I'm getting tired," you whine.

"It's a close one, doll," Peter responds, pretending to focus on the game more than you. However, it's taken Peter a great deal not to just walk away from the mission and take you back to the room. "Just a few more minutes, yeah baby girl?"

You roll your eyes, sighing loudly. "I'm going back to the room, good luck on your silly game," you whine as you glare at Peter. Then, you take the time to mouth over to the man, a simple, 'follow me.'

Peter just shrugs, letting you go off on your own with no more than a simple bye. You're still within earshot when you hear the man call it quits at the end of his turn. So, you speed up a bit, keeping the guy on his toes to follow you. At the exit of the casino, where it leads to the hotel, you pause to look at your phone, seeing the man fast approaching.

"What's a beauty like you doing all alone?" the man asks you, beginning to saunter over towards you. He pulls out a Cuban, lighting it as he wraps his lips around it. You smile at him, pretending to fawn over him. Though, it's not too hard when you get a good look at him.

"My fiance doesn't seem to want to come back to bed with me," you state, looking around before giving the man all your attention. "It gets pretty lonely when he's like this," you state, denying the Cuban when the man offers it to you. You make sure to pop your chest out a bit, show a little more leg, straighten out a bit. He bites his lip as he takes in every inch of you. "Sometimes, I think he likes money better than he likes me."

"Got a name, sweetie?" he asks before taking another drag of the cigar.

"Candace," you state. "Candace Smith, Candy for short," you add.

"Robert Paine," he states, holding a hand out. You take it, shaking it. "Now, Candy, are you as sweet as your name?"

You giggle, stepping closer to the man. You rest a hand on his chest, wrapping the other over his shoulder. You bend a leg over the other, standing rather seductively. "I can be," you tell him, peering up at him through your lashes. "Unless you're looking for something else," you add as you grab his arms and wrap them around you. "But I can be whatever you want me to be, daddy."

The man smiles, grabbing your hand. "I have a room here too," he states as he leads you over to the elevator. You see Peter approaching not too far away. "The question is, mine or yours?"

"Well, my fiance is here," you state, holding a finger up in a shushing motion. "So let's go to yours."

Steve and Natasha laugh, Sam and Bucky lose it when they look over at Tony. "You're missing out Anthony," Sam manages to say through gut-wrenching laughs. "She's a dirty girl and you're just pushing her into spider baby's arms."

Tony rolls his eyes, rubbing at his temples. "Oh shut it," he states as they all watch you make out with the guy in the elevator, Peter standing in the other alone. "She's just messing with us all, she loves Parker," Tony states.

"Either way, Tones," Natasha states. "You're missing out," she jokes. They all know your flirtation is playful since you do it to everyone. Hell, you've hit on Vision before and Wanda laughs it off. So, nobody takes your flirtation seriously, except Peter. Because he really likes you. Especially when you flirt with Tony because it sounds so real.

"Oh, baby," the man groans as you press yourself against him. Once in his room, you pretend to lock it behind you, moving along with him. Everything from that point goes by fast. You're on the bed, hair a mess, lipstick a mess. The door bursts open, FBI agents entering the room, Peter trailing behind you. The guy glares at you, yelling out insults as he gets taken away.

Then, the calm arrives. By now, Tony and the gang know to switch off. You've done your part and that's it. However, they watch from a nearby camera that you and Peter stand alone in the man's room, both looking at each other. The mic on your bracelet is still on, and they all decide to eavesdrop to see if one of you finally makes a move.

"God, thank you for coming in as soon as you did," you speak up, throwing yourself on the bed tiredly. Peter chuckles, sitting down next to you, placing a hand on your knee supportively. "Any longer and I was going to have to have sex with the man," Peter bursts into laughter, smacking your knee. You look up at him, a playful glare evident. "What?"

"So, you're not into old men?" Peter asks through giggles, turning to get a better look at you. You sigh, falling back onto the bed.

"Not that one," you state jokingly. "God, it was like kissing a fish, I was putting in work," you state. "Like, come on, you'd think he'd at least peck back every so often, but no!"

"Y/N, the guy's a serial arsonist and fraud, I think his lack of kissing skills is the least of his terrible traits," Peter states.

"Yeah, well," you respond jokingly. "He looked great, but he was terrible."

Peter hums, looking down at his hands. "So, are you into old men?"

"Oh my god," you groan as you reach over for a pillow. You throw it, but Peter catches it in no time. "Curse your spidey sense, let me hit you with a pillow!"

"Not even," he responds defensively. "Your reflection on the window, I can see you," he states, pointing at the window. This causes both of you to burst into full belly laughs. Back at the compound, all the others watch fondly as your laughter resembles that of an extremely happy child. It's contagious.

"I have a thing for hot people," you state matter of factly. "Age doesn't matter, so long as it's legal," you continue. "I literally don't care, if I find an eighteen year old attractive or a 90-year-old. If they're hot, I will want to climb them like a fucking tree," you state.

"So, Tony?" Peter asks.

"Tony's hot, yeah," you state as you shrug. "But he's not 'climb him like a tree, on my knees begging for it' hot," you continue. "Like, if he were to ask me if I'd give it up for a night, no doubt about it, I'd let him. But I wouldn't like beg or thirst over it, I wouldn't let it happen more than once, I wouldn't think about it like every night. Just a casual one-time thing would be enough for me. However, that fact that I like someone close to him plays a big role in me not being so into him."

"But you flirt with him a lot," Peter adds.

"I flirt with everyone, but I don't want to have sex with them all," you state. "Unless everyone was willing to try, like, a team orgy thing as a team-building exercise," you say, which earns another deep belly laugh from Peter. "But in all seriousness, I like someone and I want them. Not Tony, not anybody else."

Peter's silent for a few seconds, but he turns to look at you. His body is turned towards you, legs crossed in front of him, sitting criss-cross. "And who's that?"

You sit up, looking up at him. He gulps, watching you as you lean closer to him. "You're such an oblivious fool, Parker," you state. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. "But that's why I like you so much, I guess."

With that, you close the gap between the two of you, your lips connecting with his. His hands move to your hips as he kisses back. Back at the compound, everyone is cheering. Money is being traded between friends, and Tony is happy. It's the entire reason he set you both up on this mission.

However, they grow concerned when they see things getting heated.

"Oh no!" Sam and Bucky yell when they see you get on top of Peter, grinding your hips down onto him. However, you pull away.

"Let's take this back to our room?" you ask as you stand up. "I'm not trying to have sex on some rando's hotel room."

Peter nods, standing up and leading you out of the room. With that, Tony and the others stop eavesdropping, getting all they needed for the night. So, they turn off your mic, they stop watching through the camera, and they exit the room.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Tony," Steve jokes. Tony glares, ignoring the man.

"Yeah yeah," Tony states. "At least I had a chance, I've never heard Y/N say that she would go down on Captain America."

Steve laughs, walking away towards the elevator with everyone else. Tony joins them, all going to different floors.

When morning comes around, the team watches you and Peter walk into the kitchen. Smiles placed on your lips as you both walk over to the coffee maker. Tony, Nat, Steve, Sam, and Bucky all smirk at each other, knowing about the two.

"Hey, you're back!" Natasha speaks up, earning Wanda, Vision, Bruce, and Thor's attention as well. "How was the mission?"

You and Peter nod, looking over at each other. Smiles tug at your lips and the team that knew has to hold back from laughing. "It was fine," you state simply as you take a sip of the coffee you poured yourself. "Took the target down, gambled some of Tony's money, drank a little. Fun, overall."

"Spent Tony's money, huh?" Steve asks as he looks over at the man. Tony rolls his eyes. Everyone spends his money.

"Yup," you state, shrugging your shoulders. "What kind of sugar baby would I be if I didn't spend my sugar daddy's money," you joke as you send a wink to Tony. Peter chuckles, grabbing a mug of his own. "Anyways, I'm tired, so I'm gonna go lie down," you state.

"Yeah, me too," Peter chimes in, setting his mug down and ultimately forgetting about it. "See you guys later," he adds.

"Hey, wait," Tony speaks up. You and Peter turn around, looking over at Tony. "No babies," he states, making you and Peter get flustered. "And also, I need at least one flirty comment a day, it keeps me feeling good about myself. You're welcome that I finally got you two together after all this time."

You giggle, grabbing Peter's hand gently. There's no use in hiding it at this point. If Tony knows, everyone knows. That's just the way it is round here.

"You got it, sir," you state. "Can I just say, you ass looks just as great as Peter's," you say, hitting on two at once. "Now I'm really tired from running away about any and every gay thought I've had about all of you, so see y'all later," you add, hitting on everyone all at once. Then, you pull Peter out with you.

"Damn, I still gotta compete with everyone?"

"Everyone deserves to feel nice about themselves," you state. "Just when I flirt with you, it's because I want to get in your pants and because I really like you. I flirt with everyone else to be nice."

Send in feedback, requests, asks, or just come talk to me!!

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prettyboybarzal · 5 years ago

Note

38 and 39 with Mat Barzal 🥰

okay i had a lot of fun w/ this one!! enjoy, i hope it’s not too long 🥴 xoxo

38: “Wait a minute… are you jealous?” & 39: “I really want to kiss you right now.”

It was stupid, really, the crush that you had on your neighbor. It was so stupid that you were actively trying to find things you didn’t like about him. But, true to his brand, Mat Barzal was giggly, kind, compassionate, and humble.

The crush was small at first, something you hardly thought about. You’d see him in the elevator and exchange pleasantries, then you’d get back to your apartment and fire off a group text saying: Apartment crush talked to me about the weather today. You think he’s in love with me yet?

It started to become a running joke between you and your girlfriends.

You never intended for it to become more than that.

Anthony Beauvillier is the reason it did.

He was drunk one night and had popped by Mat’s place to terrorize him, but ended up knocking on your door instead. The boy was confused, but not shocked, that a girl had answered the door.

“I didn’t know Mat had someone over,” he mumbled. His comment was emphasized with a hiccup. “He’s going to kill me.”

“I think you have the wrong apartment.”

“What?” he asked. He shook his head, glancing down at the number beside the door. “No, no. He’s 6B. This is…” He trailed off once his eyes focused on the letter A beside the number 6. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you responded with a laugh. You pointed across the hall. “That’s your friends place.”

“Thank you so much,” he slurred. He turned on his heel, approached the other door, and began to bang on it. You stayed put in the entrance of your apartment to make sure the drunk boy would be taken in by his friend.

You weren’t prepared for what you saw when Mat’s door opened.

Mat pulled it open, eyes squinting at the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his sweats hung low on his waist. Your eyes trailed down his abs as a quick intake of air filled your lungs. When you looked back up, Mat was looking back at you.

“Tito, what are you doing?” he asked, redirecting his attention to his friend. “Did you wake her up?”

“Yeah, dude, I misread the numbers,” Anthony stated. “I came over to shop in your kitchen. I have no groceries right now.”

Mat let Anthony in, watching as he walked into the kitchen and began opening and closing cabinets. Mat shook his head and brought his attention back to you.

“I’m sorry about him,” he apologized. “I was supposed to go out with him tonight, but I bailed. He likes to do this when I bail on him.”

“No worries,” you responded. “I just wanted to make sure you were there to let him in. Something tells me he’d just end up sitting on the floor and waiting.”

“That’s not too far off base,” he said with a grin. He stepped into the apartment. “I better go deal with him. Goodnight…” He trailed off having realized that he didn’t know what to call you. “What’s your name?”

“YN.”

“I’m Mat.”

“Goodnight, Mat.”

The door shut and you thought that would probably be the last of your interactions with them for a while.

Anthony Beauvillier, yet again, had other plans in mind. He came knocking on your door at 11:30 a.m. the next morning with a blushing Mat behind him.

“I heard I woke you up last night,” he stated. You nodded with a smile. “We owe you breakfast.”

“You owe her breakfast.”

Mat’s interjection was ignored by Anthony and the blue-eyed boy continued talking, “We’re going to grab brunch down the block. Are you in?”

One look at Mat was enough for you to agree.

So, the fondness for your neighbor subtly became something more and the first time you ever got drunk with him and Tito sealed the deal. Justin Bieber had never sounded so sweet as it had when he was belting it out. And that’s a testament to your ridiculous crush because Mat could not sing.

That was months ago and between now and then hundreds of other memories had been made. Mat was a permanent fixture in your life and a semi-permanent fixture in your apartment. Which is why it wasn’t unusual for him to be leaning against your counter while you cooked dinner for yourself.

“I’m not going.”

You were talking about the upcoming New York Islanders Casino Night. Mat had been talking about it with you for weeks, each time making it more and more clear that he was taking you and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Yet, you still tried.

“Yes, you are,” Mat stated. He pushed himself away from the counter and turned toward the door. “And I’ll have Rebecca Seidenberg send a dress over. I mentioned that I was bringing you and she was shopping for that day.”

“Mat.”

“Don’t Mat me,” he grunted, mimicking the way you whined his name. “I’ll be in St. Louis until Friday, but I’ll drop by when I’m back. The fundraiser is on Monday.”

With that, Mat was out the door.

Sure enough, Monday night you found yourself standing at the bar beside the Islanders superstar watching his teammates run the tables. While your eyes were trained on Johnny Boychuk and his inability to play 21, Mat’s eyes wandered to a table of women on the other side of the room. He wasn’t at all subtle about it and you weren’t trying to let it bother you, but it was.

It wasn’t until one of those women left the table and made her way to the bar that he caught on to your frustration. Mat’s eyes followed her as she walked past him and you couldn’t miss the smirk that came to his lips as she brushed up beside him. You rolled your eyes to yourself, not realizing that Mat had turned his attention back to you.

“What was that?” he asked. You furrowed your eyebrows at him. He arched an eyebrow at you as he gestured toward your face. “You rolled your eyes.”

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did,” he stated. You glared at him and lifted your drink to your lips. Taking a sip of the liquor from the glass, you not-so-subtly eyed the girl beside Mat. She was blonde. Mat wasn’t even into blondes. You looked away abruptly as she grabbed her drink off the counter and thanked the bartender before walking off.

You watched her go, wondering what she had that you didn’t and why Mat wouldn’t look at you like that.

“Wait a minute,” Mat murmured. You looked back at him. He threw his head back and laughed, then leaned his elbow on the bar to stare at you with wide eyes. “Are you jealous?”

You narrowed your eyes at him as a warning for him to keep his mouth shut. Now was not the time for him to be a dick. But the amused look on his face remained only to be replaced by a smirk moments later.

“I’m going to find Beau,” you grunted before he could get another word out. Mat let you go, rolling his eyes at your retreating frame while he remained at the bar.

Beau was just standing from the Blackjack table with a sour look on his face. He shook his head at you as you approached and threw his hands up in defeat. He exclaimed, “I’m so bad at gambling!”

“It’s probably for the better,” you told him. “Something tells me if you were good at it you’d get addicted.”

“Probably right,” he mumbled. He grabbed his beer from the table and took a glance around. “Where’s Mat? I thought he’d be trailing behind you.”

“He was being smug.”

The comment made Anthony chuckle, but he didn’t respond. He was tired of playing Cupid for the two of you. It was time for you to figure it out yourselves. Instead, he tugged you over to Cal Clutterbuck’s Texas Hold Em table.

Mat joined the two of you not long after, but the conversation shared between you was minimal. You were pissed off at him for teasing you, he was annoyed that you stormed off before listening to what he had to say. Anthony, on the other hand, was having the time of his life ignoring the tension between the two of you.

At the end of the night, you followed Mat out to his car. He’d thrown his jacket over your shoulders as you left the reception hall. Although you tried to reject his politeness, he shot daggers in your direction that shut you right up.

Once you were on the road, music floating through the speakers in his car, you decided to confront him.

“You didn’t have to be such a dick, you know,” you said. He eyes flickered to you briefly before going back at the road. “About the jealousy thing. I get that girls throw themselves at you, beautiful girls, and I’m just your neighbor who sometimes feels more like one of your bros than anything else. But, that’s no reason to laugh at my feelings. I’ve been hiding it for months now, so I’m sorry I slipped up one fucking time.”

Your dramatic monologue went on without interruption for a few more seconds until Mat pulled over and slowed to stop on the side of the highway. He put the car in park and turned to face you.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Your lips parted in surprise and your eyebrows drew together in confusion. You couldn’t be hearing him right.

“What did you just say?”

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

“What?”

You felt stupid, but honestly ‘what’ was the only word willing to fall from your lips.

“I’m not repeating myself again,” he muttered. He put the car back in drive and pulled onto the highway again, knuckles white on the steering wheel. It was silent the entire way back to your apartment building, not that it was too far from where he pulled over.

You walked into the building, two steps behind him and still processing what he said in the car. Neither of you spoke until you were standing outside your apartment door.

“You’ve been quiet,” he pointed out. You nodded. “That’s usually not a good sign, especially with you. It means you’re thinking too much.”

“Trying to process,” you admitted, grabbing your keys from your purse. You unlocked your door and pushed it open, then turned to look back at Mat who was still standing dumbfounded in the hallway. “Why did you say it?”

“Why did I say I wanted to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Because I thought it was a good time to admit it,” he responded. “I mean, you were having this freak out moment, then you admitted that you’ve had a crush on me and I took it as my go ahead. I’ve been into you for so long now, but you are not easy to read.”

There was a moment of silence and his admission hung in the air waiting for a response. He run his tongue over his bottom lip and pulled it between his teeth. And, finally, you said fuck it.

You stepped forward and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to tug him toward you. Your lips met his and his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. It was soft at first, but when you’re fingers found their way into his hair he sighed. You smiled into the kiss, which made him smile in return, and then the moment was ruined because you couldn’t stop each other from laughing.

When he pulled away, he had a grin on his face. He raised his eyebrows at you and asked, “Are we good now? Or am I still a dick?”

“I think we’re good,” you stated. “But the jury’s still out on you being a dick.”

“Hey!”

You slipped out from under his arms and hopped into your apartment, closing the door on the boy in the hallway. If you didn’t stop kissing him then, you probably wouldn’t be going to bed alone, and you weren’t trying to fuck this up.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #hockey imagine #mk writes

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gottaorganizemycanonsomehow · 4 years ago

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IV – Will

Everything is hazy and not quite right and exactly how Will likes it to be. He stumbles down the hall, his arm slung over Rob’s shoulders, a laugh bubbling out of him for no particular reason at all. Rob is more than tipsy beside him so he laughs back. The feeling of love and brotherhood is so strong between them that if Will was even partially an emotional drunk, he would’ve wept. Will trips over his own feet and is almost sent sprawling to the floor but Rob catches him with a grunt.

“Next time, Will, you hafta let me be the one that gets shitfaced. It’s your turn to look after me.”

“It is, isn’t it? Next time, remind me, I’ll be the one in charge.” Will laughs hard enough so that he doesn’t have to think about what a lie that is and what their father would say about his restraint in that moment. Rob joins him in some unspoken code only good brothers intrinsically know.

“It’s only a few drinks, you’re lucky you’re not any harder to deal with.” Rob sobers for a moment and looks at his brother as they pause at the door of Will’s room. “Just a few drinks, right? You didn’t take anything else, did you?”

“You’re insulting. It takes more than a few drinks to get me wasted now.” Feeling Rob tense beside him, Will finishes quickly, “I think I drank a whole bottle of tequila. But that’s all. A lotta tequila and champagne and whatever the fuck else was downstairs.”

“Good.”

Rob begins to help Will out of his suit and into bed in a silence that feels unbearable and everlasting. Before Will could suffocate under it, he blurts, “You know, I was talking to Anthony MacKay and them and I heard something interesting about Thomas.”

“Hmm? Did you – wait, Anthony? What are you talking to Anthony for?”

Will winces at the sharp tone his brother’s voice takes on. “We were just at the bar talking Rob, before you came to get me for the party.”

“Just talking? And what’s this about Thomas? Is he addicted to crack too?”

“Anthony’s not addicted, it’s just some fun on the weekends. But no, Thomas doesn’t do that kinda thing b–”

“I keep telling you not to fuck around with Anthony and them, they’ll get you involved in some wayward shit.”

Will looks up at Rob from his place under the covers, watching his brother tuck him in. “I’m being safe about it, don’t worry about me.”

Rob barks a laugh and Will almost wishes he wasn’t so drunk so that he could parse out the meaning behind it. Rob pats his face and says, “I’m too drunk for this, we’ll talk in the morning. Enjoy your night, you bastard. Don’t throw up and ruin some girl’s night by having to clean up after you.”

As Rob walks out, Will calls after him, “I’m made out of steel! That includes my stomach, asshole!”

Will settles in his bed as he hears Rob close the door, laughing. He closes his eyes, willing sleep to steal him before sobriety can.

It feels only like a few minutes pass when Will is startled awake. Everything is still blurry and his vision shifts wildly. Will tries to prop himself up for a moment and promptly flails back onto his bed, a laugh puffing out him half-heartedly. He throws a hand across his face and smiles, amused. He is still so very drunk.

Will jumps at the feeling of fingers tracing his lips and brushing against his jaw. The room is still fairly dark, only a faint light creeps in through crack beneath the door. It doesn’t do Will very much good; he couldn’t see shit all. His foggy mind recalls something Rob said earlier in the evening, about a girl, about not ruining her night…Will beams into the darkness as he finally connects the pieces.

“Rob,” he calls out, in case his brother is lingering behind his door, “you bought me a girl again? You shouldn’t have!” The hand cupping his face seems to hesitate for a moment, stilling against his skin, before drifting back to his mouth and pressing firmly against his open lips. Will sucks the fingers in his mouth, nipping briefly at the tips of fingers and short, blunt nails, before releasing them. “Don’t be nervous,” he says aimlessly into the dark, “I’m drunk but I can still make this good for us.”

Will pulls the girl to him and flips them over so that he looms above. Before he can do much more, he flops on top of her, convulsing. He only just recognizes that the other person slips out from beneath him while his body seizes. He’s foaming at the mouth and feels pain, pain, pain, and it doesn’t stop. His vision darkens and blacks out completely but he can hear faint steps and the swinging and closing of his door. William Henry James is alone when his lungs catch a final, rattling breath and breathe no more.

#first draft #chapter four #tw death #tw murder #original work #fiction #Will's POV #murder mystery

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iam93percentstardust · 5 years ago

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#1, Tony/MANY (Thor, Steve, Bucky, Nat, T’Challa) because Howard and Obi are dicks and promise omega tony to as many to get trade deals and concessions and favourable treaties. Poor Tony is shocked as his fiancés come out of the woodwork to claim him. He’s king now, or omega queen and decides he has to do right. He will marry all of them.

I took this in a little bit of a different direction from the original prompt because I wanted to do an established relationship. Hope you enjoy it :)

1. Royalty AU - Promised at birth

Tony comes awake to kisses being placed along the line of his shoulders. He yawns and stretches before pillowing his head on his arms again. “Mmm good morning,” he mumbles.

“Good morning, my queen,” Thor replies warmly, starting to move his kisses down Tony’s back.

Tony squirms, enjoying the delicious friction of Thor’s beard on his delicate skin. “Where’s Natasha?” he asks. Sometimes, the redhaired alpha doesn’t mind being in the room when Tony is being knotted but most of the time, it makes her uncomfortable, especially when it’s sprung on her like this.

“In the kitchens. She and James wanted to make you a special breakfast.” Thor shifts down Tony’s body, bringing the blankets with him. Goosebumps spring to his skin and he shivers. “Are you cold, my queen?” Thor asks. He pulls his lips away and crawls back over Tony’s body, leaning down to let him feel his warmth.

“And Steve and T’Challa?”

Thor catches Tony’s earlobe in between his teeth, pulling at it gently. Tony gasps softly, feeling his hole start to slick with the spark of pain. “Clearing your schedule. No distractions for your birthday.”

“So you get the hard job, huh?” Tony snarks but he relaxes into Thor’s embrace, tilting his head for his husband to lick at his bonding spot.

“Yes,” Thor says dryly. “It’s such a hardship keeping you sated and blissful and full.” His hand reaches down between their bodies, testing where Tony is slick and swollen from Steve and Bucky’s attention last night. “They used you hard, I see.”

“Mmhmm,” Tony says, luxuriating in the feeling of Thor’s thick finger sliding into his body.

Thor groans, thrusting that single finger in and out slowly. “So tight, my queen.” He feathers scratchy kisses across Tony’s nape and Tony just knows that he’ll have a rash there later. Tony whines quietly at the thought.

“Thor,” he whispers. “Want you.”

“I know,” Thor assures him. The next time he pushes his finger in, it’s joined by another finger. “So wet. Do I make you feel good?”

“Always.” Tony rolls his hips slowly, forward into the bed and back onto Thor’s fingers. Thor places another kiss on the nape of his neck, aggravating the already sensitive skin and making Tony whimper.

“I have missed you, Anthony,” Thor murmurs. “Two weeks have been too long to be away from your sweet embrace.”

Tony hides his grin in the sheets. He had never thought he would get something like this when Howard had announced his marriage to five alphas once he came of age. He had never thought that he would find five people willing to love him and dote on him and say things like they missed him when they were parted. “Such a sweet talker.”

“I leave you to tour our holdings, ride my horse hard so I won’t miss your birthday, and come back to such sass. Perhaps you have not been used as hard as you claim.” Thor pushes three fingers back in, jabbing viciously at Tony’s prostate until he cries out. “My queen, I am hurt. Did you not miss me?”

Tony shoves himself up onto his elbows, turning his head so he can place a hard kiss on Thor’s lips. Thor kisses him back, demanding and insistent, claiming possession of Tony’s mouth just as he possesses him in every other way.

“My mate,” Tony moans as he crests the wave of his orgasm, spurred on by Thor’s tongue in his mouth and his fingers in his wet hole, their bond humming at the edge of his mind and the way his husband surrounds him, keeping him safe and content. As he starts to come back down, Thor pulls his fingers from his body, licking at them until they shine with spit and slick. Tony’s cock gives another feeble twitch but ultimately stays down.

“You didn’t knot me,” he whines, making grabby hands at Thor until his husband gathers him up into his arms and rolls over so that Tony is sprawled across his chest.

“So demanding,” Thor teases. “I have all day to knot you and if not I, then T’Challa or Steven or James. And Natasha is planning a magnificent feast for you. You have everything you could possibly want.”

“I don’t have this,” Tony grumbles, reaching behind him to gather up his own slick and using it to smooth his hand over Thor’s cock. Thor groans and Tony smirks as he raises himself off Thor’s chest, lines his cock up with his hole, and slides down. He throws his head back and keens at the stretch. Thor is big and his fingers don’t always stretch him out enough. “It’s my birthday and that means that when I want a knot, I get it. Not later, not from one of my other mates; now, from you.”

“My queen,” Thor rumbles, hands coming up to fit around his waist. “Anything.”

#alle writes #alle answers #nsfk #tony/all

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plsbyallmeans · 5 years ago

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Hillary Clinton on Her Surreal Life and New Hulu Doc: “I’m Not the President, and I Got More Votes! It’s So Crazy!”

The former candidate looks back and laughs. What else is she gonna do?

Hillary Clinton sat serenely before me, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. That was my first surprise as I was ushered into a room at a Pasadena hotel to talk to the former Secretary of State and the woman who won the popular vote in the 2016 election about Hulu’s four-part documentary series, Hillary (premieres March 6). Although she’s been accused of being plodding and dour, Clinton exuded buoyant warmth. And then there was her laugh. At first I was convinced that it was deployed for effect. (Politicians get media training; is laughter training a thing?) But gales of it tumbled out so regularly and recklessly that it seemed clear Clinton was just relaxed—maybe for the first time ever?

Sure, sometimes her laughter sounded rueful, but a lot of us feel rueful these days. And while she has stopped ascending the political ladder, Clinton’s name still sparks both adoration and loathing, as well as generalized post-traumatic stress. Some people wish she would withdraw into media exile rather than shadow the current election like the ghost of campaigns past. That gave some pause to Nanette Burstein, the documentary filmmaker behind The Kid Stays in the Picture and American Teen who took on this project in 2018. Burstein knew the Clinton defeat was still a raw wound for liberal America. But it was a cross she was willing to bear, given the complete editorial control and 35 hours of interviews with her subject she was granted, along with leeway to pose any questions she wanted.

I started to ask Clinton how it felt to participate in this legacy-defining project after so many years of having her life’s narrative framed by others, but the word “framed” triggered an explosive howl of laughter. “By all definitions of that word!” she said, eyes flashing, before collecting herself again.

“I decided to do it because I’m not running for anything and I think my life and my story has parallels with women’s lives and stories and what’s going on in politics,“ Clinton told me resolutely. (This was several weeks before the rumor circulated that Mike Bloomberg was considering asking Clinton to be his running mate.) “Thirty-five hours sitting in a chair answering questions is grueling but I felt like if I didn’t tell my side of the story, who would?” she added with a shrug. “At least there’ll be a baseline: Here’s what actually happened in my life. Here’s what I actually said about it.”

That led to some very uncomfortable conversations about the many scandals that engulfed the Clintons, including her husband’s affair with Monica Lewinsky. (“It was awful what I did,” Bill Clinton tells Burstein, barely able to look at the camera. “I feel terrible about the fact that Monica Lewinsky’s life was defined by it.”) “I had to ask the ex-president of the United States about the most personal thing in his life and why he would make such a decision,” Burstein recalled. “It was very intimidating! But it was about: How did this affect Hillary and her marriage and the repercussions of that, which followed her 20 years later, into this last election.”

The series flickers back and forth between Hillary Clinton’s youth and the present, weaving together a complicated and flattering (if not quite hagiographic) portrait of a woman who’s provoked admiration and abhorrence for much of her life. Sometimes she seems like a real-life Zelig, popping up near the center of American culture for the last half century. But Zelig was a bystander, whereas Hillary got right in the thick of the action, sometimes changing the course of events and others times being swept along by them.

Clinton came of age at the exact moment that the women’s liberation movement was rising, and her 1969 Wellesley commencement speech landed her a spot in Life magazine. As a young lawyer, she wrote briefs as part of the staff for Nixon’s impeachment hearings (decades later, in a savage irony, she saw the process from another angle when her own husband was impeached). After following Bill to Arkansas, she confronted good old boy sexism, encountering judges who thought women shouldn’t be lawyers and constituents who felt the first lady of Arkansas should take her husband’s name. When Bill cheated on her in the White House, some women were furious with Hillary for standing by him. Conversely, when Bill entrusted her with the daunting task of devising a universal health care plan 16 years before Obamacare, right-wing rage, and revulsion boiled over. Footage in the Hulu series features protesters brandishing posters with slogans like “Hillary makes me sick” and “Heil Hillary.” At a Kentucky rally, they even burned her in effigy.

“I was threatened when I went around the country talking about it,” Clinton told me of that heated Hillarycare moment, shuddering at the mention of the burning effigy. “The Secret Service made me wear a bulletproof coat at one event because they had taken guns and knives off of people trying to get into the outdoor event. I thought, Shit, I’m trying to get people health care! It’s not like I’m stealing your firstborn here! What is the matter with you?” she shrieked, howling with laughter. “It was so weird—like, what’s happening here? Were they paid? A lot of them were riled up by talk radio…. But yeah, I had a lot of very unusual experiences.”

In the Hulu series, former adviser Cheryl Mills recalls “Hillary hater sessions” during Clinton’s 2008 campaign for the Democratic nomination: Women complaining that the candidate was too power-hungry or that she’d been weak for staying with Bill. “It was like watching The Exorcist: The bile would just keep coming up,” Mills said. Clinton herself told me that before she ran for president, a psychological researcher warned her she’d have problems with white women “because they don’t want any conflict with their husbands, their fathers, their sons, their brothers, their boss. And white men are not going to vote for you—they didn’t vote for your husband, they didn’t vote for Obama, et cetera. So there was a lot of pressure on these women.”

Whatever your view of Clinton’s politics, Hillary reminds us that she was voted the most admired woman in America in the Gallup Poll for 16 years in a row. (Michelle Obama knocked her off the top slot.) Clinton fervently believes she had the white woman vote nailed down in 2016 “until Jim Comey dropped that letter on me,” she said. “I was going to win, I am absolutely convinced of that…. What happened is that white women left me, because their husbands or their bosses or whatever said, See? See? She is going to jail! It was a very effective assault on me.” The series points out that not only was Clinton’s career shaped by her own husband’s infidelity, but it was derailed once again by the sexual misbehavior of Anthony Weiner, husband of her top aide, Huma Abedin. The FBI probe into his sexting a teenage girl ultimately led to Comey’s announcement that they were reopening the investigation into Clinton’s use of a private email server. This reignited the frenzied right-wing smear campaign and, she believes, turned off enough vacillating voters to throw the election to Trump.

Burstein didn’t want to lean too heavily on the gender angle because there are elements at play in Clinton’s turbulent trajectory that “have nothing to do with that,” she said. “They have to do with politics. With her own personality. But there are also things that are very specific to being a female when you’re trying to do something no one else has done…. You really see that play out in her story over and over again.” The documentary shows how the battery of conflicting public expectations and right-wing vilification over several decades caused Clinton to build up defenses, which made her seem ever-more guarded and humorless. That armoring process started as early as law school, where she learned to put her head down and work hard “despite whatever obstacles were put up. And when you fast-forward into an age where everybody wants to see what your emotions are and how you respond and all that... It’s really a different environment in which we find ourselves now.”

Clinton first sat down with Burstein for interviews just a few days after the 2018 midterm results came through with their record number of women elected to Congress. The former first lady and Secretary of State regards the anger-fueled impetus that drove so many women to run for political office as the silver lining to her 2016 defeat. “She doesn’t feel that it’s a tragedy, so why should I depict it that way?” said Burstein. “She’s not bemoaning her existence every day. She’s like: Okay, what’s next?”

Sitting in front of me in a nubby tweed blazer, Clinton said she tries to be realistic about the progress women have made during her lifetime. “A lot of legal barriers have disappeared, and that’s a big step. So now we deal with all of these pent-up stereotypes and judgments about what women should and shouldn’t do or should and shouldn’t be. And we have all these forces—political and ideological and religious and financial—arrayed against further progress. And we have a president who is a willing tool. He doesn’t believe any of this stuff. He has absolutely no core beliefs whatsoever.”

Clinton won’t endorse anyone in the primary, she told me: “I just want whoever can beat him to get the nomination. Beat him in the Electoral College. That’s all I care about. I’m not going through this again!” she said, dissolving into laughter once more.

I asked Clinton if she ever thought about what she’d be doing in a parallel world where she hadn’t moved to Arkansas and married Bill. She evaded the question, telling me she moved there because she wanted to decide whether to marry and just fell in love with her life there. But then I mentioned to her William Gibson’s new novel, Agency, which takes place in a world where Hillary is president.

“Oh, I’d love to read it!” she gasped, asking for more details. In our own reality, “I’m not the president and I got more votes. It’s so crazy! So I’m interested in somebody writing something about a different ending.” She smiled and wailed, “I want to live in that world!”

(Link)

#Hillary Clinton #Eek so she's going to read the alternative universe Hillary Clinton and I am living for it

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ineffable-bentley · 5 years ago

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Scottish Highlands, 1932 AD

He awoke in a cold sweat, feeling chilled to the bone, gasping at the musty, cloying air.

A dream. A dream. Nothing but a dream.

In panic, he grabbed at his arms, hugging himself. Flesh. No scales. Sweat beading on his brow and dripping, stinging, into his eyes. Snakes don’t sweat, he reminded himself.

A dream, just like the others, it wasn’t real, and it couldn’t hur-

His eyes flashed open. Aziraphale! He threw out his consciousness, rapidly, overstretching painfully, but he didn’t care. What if- what if- what if-

There he was. In his bookshop, an aura of worry around him, but no harm.

Crowley fell back into bed, exhausted. A dream. Just a dream. No harm done.

No more sleeping then. He wouldn’t do that again. Even if he was too exhausted to think right now, sleeping wouldn’t do any good. It was time to go home.

Groaning, Crowley pushed himself upright, stretching and sniffing at the dark around him. The same damp, dark earth, sealed off from the world, just as he’d intended. He groaned. He had no idea how long he’d slept.

With effort and stiff joints, he went to the door of his hovel and pushed. Nothing. He grimaced. Not a good sign. Grunting, he miracled it open, only to find the hinges had rusted off, and a layer of earth had accumulated before the door, moldering into the surrounding landscape.

The door fell outward with a dull thud, and, cautiously, Crowley peered out, tasting the air. The same scents as when he’d gone to sleep. Wind and waves and stone and sheep dung. Lots of sheep dung.

His hair had grown long and ungainly while he slept, spilling out behind him in a great red carpet, dragging on the ground behind him. He couldn’t be bothered, yet. Before he got back into civilization, he’d need a proper haircut, but for now, maybe he’d stride up to the top of the hill, have a look around, get his bearings. See if that little farmhouse wasn’t still-

“Stop!” Came a high voice, with a thick Scottish accent, and Crowley nearly jumped out of his skin.

Looking up, he spied a young girl, maybe in her early teens, scrawny and fierce and holding a shepherd’s crook like a baton. He needed a coffee, at least, before he could deal with this.

“Er. Hello.” Crowley managed, lamely.

“Is that all you’ve got to say for yourself? You just came outta the hill!”

“Yes. Well. I’m a bit lost,” Crowley was not prepared for this situation.

“Well I should hope so!” The girl laughed then, a bit nervously, and Crowley offered a weak smile in return. She tilted her head and looked at him, up and down. “Yer not gonna hurt me, are ya?”

Crowley shrugged, “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Alright then. You got no weapons, you sure as hell look skinny enough, and God knows you clearly haven’t got all yer wits about you,” she gestured vaguely, to his unkempt hair falling down his shoulders and trailing behind, and to his clothes, once fine, now not much more than rags of wool and leather.

She strode down the hill, wild hair flying in the wind, and seemed to study him as if he were an exhibit.

He looked around for clues, anything, that might give him even the faintest idea of when he was. There was a tug on his scalp, and he looked down to see a sheep taking a cautious bite of his hair, lying as it were, all over the ground. “Oy! Watch it!” he yelled, jumping back.

“Oy!” the girl yelled back, nearly at him now, “That’s MY sheep, you better watch it!”

“Teach your damned sheep to behave, then.”

She laughed again, “I take it you’ve never been a herder then, mister.”

“Not recently, no.”

She narrowed her eyes, still studying him. “Well, that’s all there is in these parts. What did you say your name was…”

“I didn’t. But. Anthony.” Crowley straightened from shooing off the sheep and stood, hair bundled in his arms, glancing around for any sign of civilization.

“I’m Mary. Not that you asked,” she replied, a bit petulantly.

“Great. Er. Mary. Could you please tell me where I might buy a horse?” Of course this damned girl had to be here now, when he could have just peacefully miracled himself somewhere tolerable. Maybe it was for the best. His head was already killing him from seeking out Aziraphale, the growing thudding in his temples warning him not to do any more miracles for at least a few days. He rubbed at them, irritated, thinking of how he’d have to get a horse, ride to the port, and charter some kind of ship, only to hop a train if he was lucky, and then still have-

Mary interjected. She, at least, was a sharp one. “Listen, mister, are you sure you’re well?”

Crowley waved her off with as much nonchalance as he could manage, “Yes, yes. Just need a horse.”

“Well, let’s get you somewhere less windy, and we can see about that horse, alright?” Crowley didn’t miss the concerned tone in her voice, the pity there. He supposed he must look a wreck, although he couldn’t help but curl the slightest smile at how the tables had turned, with him and these humans. Mary was still talking, and had lowered her crook, and offered it before her. “To help you walk, Mister Anthony. That’s an odd name, isn’t it? What’s it?”

“Italian.” Crowley grunted, pretending not to hear the bit about helping him walk, and straightening up with as much dignity as he could muster. Leonardo had given him that one. Well, Antony. Crowley did allow himself a bit of modernization. A bit odd this far north, for sure, but Crowley was never one to refuse a gift, especially a gift of a name.

Mary stunned him from his thoughts, chirping, “I’ll take you to Pa, he’ll at least know where to send you.”

Crowley felt older than he had in a long time. Leonardo, those warm Florentine nights, were a thousand miles and five hundred years away. He needed to get back to reality. “What-“ Crowley cleared his throat, “What year is it?”

“You really are mad, aren’t’cha?” Mary stuck her hands on her hips and looked down the bridge of her nose at him. “It’s 1932, you daft bastard.”

“Right-“ Crowley muttered, but it felt as though he had swallowed a brick. How long was that, then? Nearly seventy years. Fuck. He’d overslept.

“How in the hell did you get out here, anyways?” Mary was still talking, but at least she was leading him somewhere now, “Nobody’s ere we don’t know and, it looks like you’ve been here at least a while.”

“Wanted to get away from London for a bit,” Crowley mumbled, ignoring the jibe about his appearance.

Mary laughed then, out loud, “Well I damn well say you succeeded! You’re about as far as you can get from London, except maybe Ireland.”

“Can’t-can’t do Ireland. Not since that Patrick bloke went muddling around and-“

Mary wasn’t listening, and Crowley trailed off. No point telling the truth anyway. Besides, his headache was strengthening with each step, and talking only made it worse.

So he simply trailed along behind her, lacking, for the moment, a better plan, and desperately looking about for any clues as to what might have happened in the last seventy years. Christ. (He felt at least entitled to that swear, after he’d gotten to know the kid so well.) Of course he’d been brilliant enough to throw himself all the way out here for a nap. At this point he could’ve slept through the rapture and not known it. And, from what he could tell, Mary wasn’t much of an indicator in that department.

They soon reached a run down sort of sod and thatch dwelling, with a few cows and a whole lot of sheep milling around outside. Crowley supposed this must be the farmhouse. He eyed the cows dubiously. Surely there had to be a horse here somewhere. Maybe he’d whore out, finally, offer them a perfect lambing season, cure their sick, or some other such nonsense, in exchange for a horse. His mouth ticked upwards. Aziraphale would love that. A miracle, a miracle, any miracle for a horse!

“Pa!” Mary yelled towards the house, “Broughtcha a present!”

From round the dwelling came a gruff looking man, poorly shaven, already yelling back, “Mary, what fool thing have you done no-“ but he stopped dead when his eyes fell on Crowley, and his mouth fell open.

Crowley took advantage of this opportunity, and pressed. “Have you got a horse? I’m willing to trade!”

The man ignored him, instead shouting at his daughter again, “What in the damned hells have you brought me?”

“Dunno!” She called back as they approached, “But he’s awful skinny, and can’t stay warm long in those rags.”

The man sighed, and rubbed a worn hand over his face, tiredly. “Well, he’d best come in at least.”

The interior of the house was sparse but homey, with wooden furniture worn smooth by years, and a small fire crackling in the corner. With far more reasonable suspicion than his daughter, the man settled heavily at the table, and motioned wearily for Crowley to take a seat across from him.

“Alright then. So what’s your story, Mr…?”

“Crowley,” Crowley supplied, glancing around the home, hands fidgeting nervously on the table before him, “Really, you needn’t trouble yourself. I just need a horse to ride back south. I’ve got money, I’ll pay.”

The rugged man raised his eyebrows, looking at Crowley’s ragged clothes and train of hair, “I think you’ll pardon me, Mr. Crowley, if I doubt that for the time being.”

Crowley sighed. He supposed that was fair enough. Looks like he’d be walking then. He placed his hands flat on the table before him to stand to go, “Can’t say I blame you, but I don’t care to trouble you any longer. I’ll be going, the-“

“Wait.” The man’s attitude had changed suddenly, staring at Crowley’s hands, splayed out on the table. Crowley nearly cursed. The dratted things had taken to a tremor, and now the fingers each trembled, visibly. The man must have seen his grimace, because he held up his own hand, and Crowley saw, much more subtle, but still there, a slight vibration. “No need to be embarrassed. Plenty of soldiers down on their luck after Europe spat us back.”

Crowley stood still as a snake, hardly daring to move, eyes locked on the man’s.

“You fought in the war?” the man prompted, more gently.

The War. It haunted his dreams, still, holy water, falling like rain, melting those it struck, fire arcing across the sky, everywhere the scent of burnt wings and ichor, and amidst it all, two hands, intertwined. And then not.

His face must have betrayed his emotion, because the man patted the table to indicate he sit back down, and, cautiously, Crowley did. “My home is home for any who fought, and doubly for who came back with shell shock. I’ve no idea where you’ve come from, but it hardly matters now. What matters is, have you got anyone to go home to?”

Crowley met the man’s eyes, gentler now, and licked his lips nervously. “Yes, I do.”

“Well. That’s settled then,” and the man turned to Mary, who had been standing, stock still and wide eyed in the corner, “Take him down to the post office at least, they should be able to get him further south from there. Did he say where he’s from?”

“London,” Mary said, a bit sheepishly, looking at Crowley with eyes wide as saucers.

“Right then. Better get a move on.” The man stuck a thick arm out towards Crowley, and grabbed his hand, warmly, “I hope you find who you’re looking for.”

Crowley hoped so too. ______________ This is an excerpt of my slow burn fic (currently at 45k), The Sun Will Rise and We Will Try Again, about Crowley’s trauma and Aziraphale and him overcoming it together. Couldn’t resist adding it since I’d already made the St. Patrick’s day joke. Check out the full fic here!

#ggoso #Great Good Omens Snake Off #good omens #good omens fic #crowley #Anthony Crowley #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale x crowley #crowley good omens #snake!crowley

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betterlatethannever2 · 4 years ago

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THE ALLY PALLY CONNECTION

I recently came across a photo, taken from Mountview Road, near Crouch End, where I lived as a child. I was amazed to be able to see Alexandra Palace on a further hilltop, which I am sure was not visible from there in the 1940’s. Grandma and Grandad Hoad (my mother’s parents) lived at 103 Rosebery Road, Muswell Hill, which was barely a stone’s throw from the Palace, and my mother and I were frequent visitors there. This was the house that was provided for my grandparents after their own house at Nunhead (102 Drakefell Road) suffered war damage. These visits are among my earliest memories, and I certainly remember being there in June 1944 when a telegram was delivered to announce that my Uncle Leslie had been killed in a motor-cycle accident on Malta. He was on War Service but wasn’t involved in hostilities at the time. I remember the grief, but it was stoically borne, in my presence anyway. I was four at the time.

The second sad event at this address was the cot-death of my first brother, Anthony. We must have been staying for the night. This was totally unexpected, and I remember my mother’s devastation. For a few weeks it seemed as though I had become the responsibility of Grandma, and my Auntie Marjorie who was still living at home at the time. Nobody spoke to me about the tragedy, and I had to work out for myself why my mother was unable to cope with my care, and why she did not wish to speak to any body. I do not recall being present at the funeral, but I presume my mother was able to regain her composure once all the procedures had been dealt with. We manage things very differently now.

My grandparents were still at this address in 1947, and by this time I was trusted to go and see them by myself on the bus. The bus stop, at the bottom of the green sweep, and on the road that curves round and up to Alexandra Palace was still there fifteen years ago, and I am sure it is still there now. I would get off the bus and make my way through a small cutting, turn left, and then right, and straight on down Rosebery Road to 103. The semi-detached house, in an area now beloved by TV executives, had a very relaxed appearance, and a certain ‘graciousness’ inside. There were two quite large and formal rooms on the ground floor, and stairs down to the kitchen, where we all sat unless there was a big family gathering. the front room was very rarely used, but the back room could accommodate a sizeable party, and I enjoyed one or two of these, at adult knee height. This room had french windows which led out onto a raised wooden veranda overlooking the garden. I can smell the damp woodland feel its slippery surface under my feet, even now. I loved all these visits.

I was the first grandchild, and while not actually spoilt in that sense, I enjoyed lots of affection and attention. On my arrival, Grandad would reach for his ’sweetie’ tin on the piano, and while intoning Fe Fi Fo Fum, would invite me to plunge my small hand into the sweet smelling and sticky selection. I was particularly fond of pear drops. Grandma had a selection of toys, wind-up tin animals and vehicles, simple construction sets, and jigsaws. And of course, there were the Just William books. I was never, ever bored, and always happy to listen in to the adult conversation, without making that too obvious.

Grandad was a very practical man, and was always making useful gadgets and small pieces of wooden furniture, and even toys. He also repaired the family shoes on his lasts - a great saving then, as shoe repairs were very costly. His workshop was a small room tucked away under the veranda. He was also very proud of his garden. His new potatoes, garden peas and strawberries have never been equalled in my experience. I can just about summon their exquisite flavour, together with that of the pears from the trees that grew in the garden.

On a Sunday morning he would take me to the newsagent’s to buy a comic for me, and a couple of the less salubrious Sunday papers for him, together with Titbits. I read them all! In the afternoon he would pack up his leather cases, and take his bowls up to the Muswell Hill Bowling Green. I still have the smaller case, and I treasure it - not with the bowls in unfortunately. I expect other members of the family took care of those.

Grandma, or more often my Auntie Marjorie, would take me to play on the swings in the grounds of Alexandra Palace. On the top terraces, you had a wonderful view over London. On one unforgettable occasion, my mother, Aunty Marjorie and myself dressed up in the beautiful dresses my mother had made out of nylon parachute material. Mine was white with red silk thread embellishment to the frills, and theirs were yellow with jade thread. We were off to the Ball at the Palace. Even at the time I thought it was very nice of them both to take me too, but with hindsight, I guess I made a useful chaperone. They didn’t have to dance together all evening, there were gentlemanly invitations too. I am always trying to reconstruct that evening in my mind, and comb the television screen whenever there is an event at Ally Pally, but it always eludes me.

These memories have been stirred by finding the paperwork connected with the requisitioning of the house that Grandad actually bought in 1933, located between Nunhead and New Cross. He was a draughtsman by profession, and went to work in a suit, white shirt and tie. His recent ancestors had been boatbuilders at Rye, hence his handyman skills, but clearly he was ‘upwardly mobile’. The house cost £650. By 1953, and after a great deal of ‘argy bargy’ about the war damage repair costs, and who was responsible for them, the house was valued at £350. I have not been able to follow the line of argument, but clearly my grandfather knew when and how to dig his heels in when necessary, but he may have lost out on value as a result.

My grandparents were delighted to be back in their own house at last, and I hope that I never let on that I much preferred the house at Rosebery Road. The railway ran at the bottom of their garden which was interesting, but noisy. When I was ten, or eleven, my father (long home from the army by then), accepted a transfer of his post with the Public Trustee (a branch of the Civil Service, dealing with wills and probate) and we moved north to Manchester, settling in the nearby village of Romiley, then in Cheshire. I was very homesick, but my parents allowed me to travel back to Grandma and Grandad’s for some of my school holidays. I had the sort of freedom I would tremble to give my own grandchildren now. Nunhead station was just down the road, and I would regularly take myself into central London to explore. I also enjoyed visits to places like Kew Gardens, and to see other relatives, with Grandma and Auntie Marjorie.

When I watch TV programmes like ‘Who Do You Think You Are?’ I know I am very lucky to know exactly who I am. 1st June.2020

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eldritchsurveys · 5 years ago

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674.

have you ever violated school dress code? >> I wasn’t allowed to wear anything that would have violated any school dress codes, so I have no idea how that would have ever happened.

if you are listening to music, is the singer male / female? >> I’m not listening to music.

what [ if anything ] do you give up for Lent? >> I don’t observe Lent.

what phrase leads your mind directly to the gutter? >> I mean, I can’t think of any on command, but there are plenty I come across online and stuff that make me snicker. I just like wordplay, tbh.

when you feel like giving up, how do you convince yourself not to? >> I mean, it’s mostly Can Calah who gives the impassioned arguments in defense of not giving up. I just listen and gripe and wait for his infallible logic to work its magic.

what are your opinions on immigration? >> I don’t have a blanket opinion on immigration. I have no personal issue with individual immigrants, no matter their story. They’re just people to me, who want the same things I want -- to survive, to have their needs met, to make a better life.

would you tell an actual immigrant your views? >> Of course I would, if they were unsure where they stood with me.

what was the subject of the last list you made? >> I don’t remember the last time I made a list.

do you ever get nervous before interviews / important meetings? >> I mean, I would if that was a thing that occurred in my life.

who pays for the majority of your belongings? >> It’s pretty evenly split between me and Sparrow.

would you ever willingly shop in a thrift store? >> Of course...?

what is the most that you would ever spend on an outfit? >> I mean... that depends on many factors, including what the outfit is for and how much money I have.

is there anything you do that just outrages your parents? >> ---

when was the last time you were embarrassed in public? >> I don’t remember.

have you ever won an award you were actually proud of? >> I mean, maybe a long time ago. Doubtful, though.

the importance of education, rate it from 1-10, 10 as most important? explain your choice to rate it as such? >> I rank formal education rather low on my personal importance scale, but I rank informal, interest-based learning very high on my personal importance scale. I love to learn, but I don’t operate well in school settings and actually end up learning less in those settings.

what is the coolest science experiment you've ever done? >> I haven’t done any cool science experiments. :(

are you experiencing difficulties with any friends right now? >> No.

how do you deal with a fight between yourself and a friend? >> I don’t know how to deal with that kind of thing anymore.

when you apologize to someone after a fight, how do you go about saying that you are sorry? >> I haven’t been in this situation in a long time, I don’t know.

have you ever played around with "dry ice"? >> No.

do you think parents are responsible for the actions of their children? >> Of course they are, if we’re talking literal children (not teenagers). It takes some time for a small human to develop the sense of independent reasoning and reckoning of consequence that would allow them to take full responsibility for their actions.

how do you, personally, define music? >> I never really thought about it, it’s one of those concepts where I basically take my understanding of it for granted.

should the military draft take both men AND women? why / why not? >> That’s not a debate I’m willing to get into. I want nothing to do with a draft and I ideally wouldn’t want anyone else to have to deal with getting drafted, actually.

when was the last time that you corrected someone? >> I don’t remember. It was probably something really minor and not a big deal for either party. --Oh yeah I remember now, it was about why Bourbon Street is named Bourbon Street.

when was the last time you were corrected? >> It was also probably about something minor and nbd. I think the last time might have been when I misspelled “Lolth” because believe it or not, I’ve been doing that since 2009. I always misspell it “Lloth”, it’s just what happens.

when did you last say " i told you so "? >> I don’t remember. I try to avoid saying that unless it’s about something funny/silly.

is there any celebrity you like to " keep up with "? >> Not especially. I mean, there are definitely actors and directors that I pay attention to more than others when they get involved in new things, but I always forget to like, keep regular tabs on them or whatever.

celebrity gossip: YAY or BOO? >> Boo.

what is the most life-changing book you have read? >> I couldn’t say. A lot of books I’ve read have had a significant impact on me in some way.

have you had a negative impact on anyone's life? >> Sure.

has anyone had a negative impact on yours? who / why? >> Absolutely. I’m not going to elaborate, the negative impact that others have had on me is both 1) way too lengthy and sensitive to elaborate on and 2) not worth dwelling on right now when I just want to chill and take a survey.

what does marriage mean to you, specifically? >> It means legal recognition of our partnership, which is necessary for things like, say, being each other’s advocates in a medical emergency.

how will you know when you are ready to get married? >> I didn’t bother fretting over whether I was “ready” or not. We’d been living together for a couple of years by the time the topic even came up, it didn’t seem like a weird next step to make.

how much time have you spent contemplating your own death? >> Way more time than is logical, probably.

is there a joke that you just can't stand? >> I mean, probably. There are a lot of insensitive jokes out there.

have you ever read any self-help books? >> Yeah.

what's your take on the obesity problem in america? >> I don’t have a take on it. You know what I do have a take on? The constant social pressure to be thin, and the resultant contagious obsessions with eating the “right” foods, compulsive exercising, and worrying about a number on a scale. Being fat, of all things, shouldn’t be this dramatically frightening or repulsive to people, but that’s what we’re made to believe, and that’s the message we’re all internalising on a daily basis. I’m fucking tired of it. I got enough problems.

what is something you used to love, but now greatly dislike? >> I don’t think I’ve ever flipped that hard on anything. There are things I’ve liked casually that I ended up not caring about later on, but nothing that I loved that I started hating later. I might shift from being obsessed with something to just being chill about it, but that’s it.

what is something you used to dislike, but now like? >> I disliked Metallica as a child.

when ( if ) you become a parent, what will you do differently, compared to how your parents raised you? >> I don’t plan on being a parent, but how I treat children in general is almost directly in contrast to how I was treated as a child. I treat them with respect, I listen to what they have to say, I let them feel their feelings, I show interest in their interests, etc.

do you equate spanking with physical abuse? would you spank a child? >> Let’s just say that I did not ever feel loved or respected when I was spanked. I felt terrified and shameful and being left alone to self-soothe afterwards with no real understanding of why I was being punished so harshly definitely didn’t help. I don’t feel like my understanding of right and wrong was healthily developed by corporal punishment. I don’t see any benefit to it, but I see a lot of harm. So, no. I would not spank a child.

what's the most ridiculous thing you've done this week? >> I have no idea. I don’t think I’ve done anything especially ridiculous?

--- did you regret it / love it / hate it / want to do it again / etc? >> ---

is emotional cheating ( in a relationship ) as bad as physically cheating? >> I have no opinion on this, it’s irrelevant to my life.

if your bf/gf wanted to wait until marriage for sex, would you be willing? >> ---

when you look at the sunset, what do you think about / feel? >> I mean, it all depends, don’t it? I don’t have the exact same thought every time I look at something.

is there someone you wish you could trust / you wish was trustworthy? >> No. I just wish I didn’t have such overdeveloped trust issues.

is there anyone that you no longer want in you life? who / why? >> Well, yeah, and those people are, therefore, no longer in my life.

how has your outlook on life changed in the past few years? >> I’m not sure, I haven’t really kept track.

have you ever walked out of a boring movie ( in theaters )? >> No. I did want to walk out of Infinity War, though. Not because it was boring, but because it was pissing me off. (Also, that was back when Anthony was still around, and he wanted to walk out too.)

how open are you with people you know online? >> It depends on how I know them, what we have in common, how long I’ve known them and to what degree, etc.

what do you think of athletes that take steroids? >> I don’t think about that.

if a celebrity is involved in scandal after scandal, is that likely to effect how you view him/her & his/her work? >> Not really. I barely notice when scandals like that happen, anyway. It also seems like most scandals are just sensationalised overhyped nonsense to get people talking about whoever it is, for publicity, and has nothing to do with, like, the merits of the performer’s art or whatever.

what is one celebrity that you have zero respect for? >> ---

what is one fashion trend that you hope makes a comeback? >> ---

what is one that you wish would just die out already? >> ---

have you ever driven under the influence of alcohol / drugs? >> I don’t drive, period.

are you overly attached to your material possessions? >> No. I can be a bit under-attached, in fact. I’ll throw a thing away in a heartbeat. (This doesn’t apply to like, electronics, or any other expensive thing that I use on a constant basis. But like, t-shirts, books, toys, novelty items, other shit that ends up just taking up space and collecting dust? Bye.)

have you ever ridiculed anyone for their clothing choices? >> Not since I was a teenager, most likely.

living in poverty: what do you think it'd be like? >> I... I have lived in poverty. Poverty is my default state of existence. I don’t really know what to tell you about “what it’s like”. What’s it like to not be poor?

what is one " diet " that you think is just utterly worthless? >> All of them are worthless to me.

what advice would you give someone that is uncomfortable with his or her body / appearance? >> I wouldn’t give them advice. Advice is what the entire world is going to try to give them. I’d imagine they’d be tired of advice (unless they’re specifically asking me for it, I guess). But I’ll always have a “mood” or “I know that feel” to offer, because... yeah. Same. The shit sucks and there’s no easy way out of it.

what advice would you give someone about to start high school? >> I don’t even want to think about that phase of life, I’ll pass.

what foreign food are you NOT interested in trying? >> *shrug*

what foreign country do you believe is misunderstood? >> I mean, I don’t know. USian attitudes towards and assumptions about a lot of countries are... misinformed at best.

have you ever felt entirely unwanted and alone? >> Yeah.

in your eyes, which is worse: rape or murder? >> Nope, don’t care.

do you understand / read shakespeare? >> I have never been able to grok Shakespeare, and I’m not interested enough to keep trying.

would you feel comfortable living with someone that owned a gun? >> Most likely not. Luckily, that’s not likely to happen.

do you know anyone that lives in a foreign country? >> I mean, yeah, I use the internet.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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