#Martha's just in the background looking back at her life and going “Where the hell did I go wrong with this kid?”

[azulhood]

Alright, here you go. ---------------------------------------- Martha never had any siblings. Being an only child of two only children. She never really cared about not having siblings or even cousins, and her parents made sure she never felt lonely. Though, when her friends would talk about something their own siblings did, a small part of Martha couldn't help but wonder.

What would that be like? As she grew up, and her life became filled with chaos and responsibilities, it was put at the back of her mind. And then she met Jonathan Kent. After seven wonderful years they got married (Both of them said they were the one to propose) and they moved to a town called Smallville. That's where they met Dan. At first, they had a hard time, some of the cattle didn't last the year while some got stolen and the fields got overrun by mice. But Dan, bless him, took one look at them and decided to help, and back then they didn't have much to repay him with (Not that he would have accepted it anyway) so they decided to help him too.

Fixing fences, rounding up cattle, harvesting the crops, checking in after a big storm. It just became something they did. If they were on the others farm and saw something that needed doing, they did it. Martha and Dan traded recipes and gossip like it were gold, he would often have dinner at their house and stay the night on the couch, Jonathan did the same if he was at dan's place and it got too late. Then that spaceship crashed into their fields. She and Jonathan adopted the tiny child that came out of it and they asked Dan to be the godfather. Dan looked into Clarks eyes then turned to them looking more serious than she had ever seen him. "If anyone from the government asks about him, send them to me, I'll deal with them." He said and that was that. Time moved on. Clark grew up with loving parents and a gaggle of Aunts and Uncles courtesy of Dan, the closet thing she had ever had to siblings.

He got into a good school, became a brilliant journalist and, eventually, he became Superman. Martha was terrified for her boy, but she also couldn't be prouder. When Clark brought his friends Lois and Jimmy home to met them, Martha immediately knew that her boy was in love. Bets were placed among the family on how long it would take for Clark to actually ask Lois out (Martha and Jazz were the winners of that bet.) The whole family erupted in cheers when they finally got encaged.

But then Lois died.

Martha saw the news, she knew what her son was doing, she saw Danny and Ellie fighting alongside Clark's friends. Upon seeing this, Martha stood up from her seat and calmly walked to her neighbor's house.

A part of her didn't believe it, didn't believe that the boy she raised was capable of such a thing. But her wanting it not to be true wouldn't change the fact it was.

"Please, bring him home." She asked the second Dan opened the door. He looked at her a moment before sighing. "Alright."

And that was how the present came to be. Clark sat at the kitchen table, a black eye that started at his temple and ended at his chin, his shoulders up around his ears like she had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. Dan next to him, smoke trailed from his clothes which she knew got burnt from Clarks heat vision, nursing a cup of his favorite green glowing coffee. Danny and Ellie sat there too. Danny had his arm in a sling while half of Ellie's hair was missing both covered in burns, all four of them were in better shape than the other heroes. Because some of them were dead.

She and Jonathan hung back, trying to keep busy with making drinks as they waited for the last member of the family. Martha didn't know what to say to her son, she knew that if she spoke, she'd say something that would probably make matters worse, so she didn't say anything. Jazz finally walked into the room, eyes trailing over all of them, over the burns, the dried blood, the ripped clothing, and then finally landing on Clark. "I think we need to talk, Clark." The red head said grimly. Clark bowed his head and murmured so softly that Martha barely heard it. "Yeah, Auntie, I guess we do."

I want Dan to be a farmer.

Like redeemed Dan goes through therapy, takes one look at the world filled with spandex wearing heroes and monologuing villains and just goes "Nope, I'm gonna go be a farmer."

He didn't really have a chance at living a peaceful life in the last timeline since he had Danny's job of keeping the peace (and then turned evil) but now that Danny's doing Danny's job, he's got a chance to go off and do his own thing.

So, he moves out to a nice little town called Smallville, right next to a lovely couple named the Kent's.

And he enjoys it.

It's pretty peaceful, nobody bothers him (bar from a few visits from Danny and Dani, and also the weekly phonecall from Jazz)

It's just nice.

....

Now if only the heroes could stop crash landing on his property, that'd be great.

Like seriously, Superman! He just planted that corn!

[eggtoasties]

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Rating: G 

Word Count: 1.2k of tooth rotting dad!kuroo

Summary: Love is in the little things: Brita filters, sesame seeds, and frozen waffles.

Music plays softly in the background as Kuroo works diligently in the kitchen. Against the backsplash of white tile, glass containers dotting the wooden shelves, and stainless steel appliances in the modern kitchen, Kuroo Tetsurou wears a bright red apron with the words “Kiss the Chef” written garishly across the front.

On a tray he’s already balanced a stack of incredibly fluffy pancakes covered in a light dusting of powdered sugar, topped with the ripest berries. He’s taken out the nice porcelain that’s stored on the top most shelves—only to be used on special occasions, she said—and filled the matching bowls with an assortment of fruits and granola from the farmer’s market.

He hums to himself as he places the sunny side up eggs just so on the plate and delicately shakes the spice bottles to ensure an even layer. Putting the final touches on the food, he starts the espresso machine while he peels several oranges to hand squeeze. In the middle of his fourth orange, Kuroo hears the patter of foot steps down the stairs.

“Wow,” a small voice drawls out at his hip, “looks so good.”

A small, chubby hand reaches for a bowl and Kuroo lightly swats it away.

“Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?” Kuroo says mostly to himself, satisfied with the assortment of sweet and savory treats, so aesthetically placed he figures Martha Stewart would weep. Finishing with the last orange, he wipes his hands on his apron and moves to make the coffee, scooting the tray further away from the edge.

He feels a small tug at his pajama pant leg and looks down to see his pouting child.

“I’m hungry,” his son complains, tiny hand fisting cotton and the other resting at his hip, a mirror image of his mother.

Gently ruffling his son’s hair, still unruly from sleep, a set of heavier footsteps makes its way to the kitchen. Yawning the sleep from her eyes and sighing at the pops in her neck, Kuroo’s eldest daughter zeroes in on the breakfast spread and makes a beeline for the tray.

Swiftly blocking her warpath he grabs a dish towel and waves it in front of her like a matador to a bull. “Who are you and get out my kitchen,” Kuroo says.

She scowls up at him which makes him scowl too.

“You know what your mom says about frowning,” he lightly scolds.

“I’m young and have a great retinol,” she bites back, “what’s your excuse?” she taunts.

“Oi! What’s with the attitude so early in the morning, can’t you see I’m busy,” he says incredulously, gesturing to the breakfast tray as he catches his youngest drag a short footstool towards the counter.

With one step, Kuroo scoops him up—away from the food—and distracts him with the promise of Eggo waffles while squishing chubby cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, kissing the soft skin.

“You’re making pancakes from scratch and you’re feeding us the frozen waffles?” his daughter deadpans.

“Who said anything about feeding you guys—you have two hands,” he points out, wincing when small fists beat his chest.

At her stink eye, Kuroo curses teenage hormones and nearly runs to the beep of the espresso machine, any excuse to avoid further scrutiny from his daughter. He puts his son down and whispers for him to sit and wait for his sister to get him breakfast. His daughter—light of his life, apple of his eye, his precious darling baby girl—but an absolute menace at sixteen and unfortunately absolutely took after him in this regard.

He pours the perfect amount of hot water to the espresso and Kuroo nods approvingly at the spread: pancakes, eggs, fruit, yogurt, granola, freshly squeezed orange juice, water at room temperature because apparently cold water is bad for the stomach, and finally, hot coffee.

Rummaging in the freezer his daughter grumbles, “Can you at least get me water?”

He grabs a glass and fills it halfway and meets his daughters open mouth of disbelief. Placing his hand on his hips he mocks her expression.

“Yes?”

“You’re giving me tap water,” she says accusingly.

“The Brita is for the dog and your mom,” he retorts.

Turning away at her screech of indignation, he smiles to himself when she can’t see it. Yes, she thoroughly irritates him with her refusal to drink orange juice with pulp and completely baffles him when she doesn’t heed his advice to wear a little less eyeliner. He also definitely thinks her boyfriend is a little bit of a loser, but, he is utterly and entirely certain that she is one of the best things he has ever done with his life equal to having her brother and marrying their mother.  

His wife. Even as his ring clinks against his second cup of coffee, as it has every morning for the past several, several years they’ve been together, it still feels unreal. He thinks of her and remembers when they first met in college, first vacations, their wedding, their children’s births and even random memories from inconsequential days all at once. Like the day they got ice cream and she nearly puked in his lap on the subway because she insisted her lactose intolerance wasn’t that bad. Or when they were driving going to who knows where and there was a black sesame seed wedged in her tooth as she smiled at him and the car behind him honked for him to move because he was so dumbstruck by the way she smiled at him. When he thinks of her, a million memories and thoughts come rushing in at once to meld together to overwhelm him with one unmistakable emotion.

He figures he’ll never be able to articulate exactly how much she means to him with words. Hell, even for their wedding vows they had agreed to save the sappy stuff for afterwards—in private. He shyly presented a well-worn, heavily creased, ten page manifesto of his love in their hotel room, heart beating faster than it had during the wedding, feeling more exposed in that moment than when he was at the altar in front of all of their friends and family. His hands shook as she read each page, mouthing his words so tenderly back at him and he’s never told her that that moment was more nerve wracking than when he proposed.

So, he hopes that breakfast in bed makes up for it. Or, breakfast at their side table because she has a thing about crumbs in her bed. But nothing screams ‘domestic bliss’ to Kuroo quite like the idea of pancakes in bed and that’s why he’s bought so many bed trays even though she rolls her eyes every time.

And maybe, that’s what love is. Delivering breakfast in bed to your no-food-in-the-bed rule making partner on the trays she banned from the house. But, because you were so focused on making the perfect heart shaped pancakes and the fact that you bought a very expensive ring a long time ago, she’ll forgive you and ignore your citrus stained hands as you tenderly stroke her hair until she wakes.

Kuroo grins to himself as he makes his way to their bedroom, tapping his wedding ring against the handle and feeling the small weight of the gift box in his left pocket.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “A bucket.”

I wrote this little fluff piece this morning because I didn’t have the energy to write anything else. Still fighting with my motivation right now, but I hope you all like it :)

The air smelled like fall, wet dirt, a chill, and the unmistakable tang of mouldering leaves raked into large yellowing piles. The sky overhead was blue, and it was just beginning to warm as the sun peaked higher into the sky.  Standing on the sidewalk, he stared down the street of his childhood watching orange and yellow leaves fall to the pavement. In the distance he could hear the shouting of children, and watched decorative skeletons clatter and blow in a light wind.

A soft crunching noise jogged him from his musings, and he turned to see Sunny contemplatively staring at a yellowed leaf, only to watch her pop it into her mouth and crunch on it like it was a potato chip.

He frowned at her and she turned to look at him, “What?”

“Seriously?”

“What do you mean, Seriously?”

“Gonna go ahead and eat the fall ambiance?”

She frowned at him,” The trees aren’t using them anymore, and I don’t see you eating them.” He just shook his head at her, and turned to walk up the front steps and onto the porch. She paused to stare at the cluster of pumpkins on the front steps, and the grizzly faces that were carved into them. His father was a master at pumpkin carving, evidenced by the fact that Sunny made, “What the hell.” she turned to look at Adam and he shrugged.

“What are those?”

“Pumpkins/”

“That does not answer my question.”

“THey are a type of squash or gourd or…. Or something. People grow and eat them most of the time, but it is traditional, in october to carve scary faces on them for fun. Maybe mom has another one lying around and will let you try it out.”

“But why?”

“Back in the day people thought that doing this would help to fend off evil spirits, but now it is more of a contest to flex who is the most artistic. Dad wins every year.”

They stepped onto the porch where fallen leaves were still clinging wetly to the front steps and knocked.

“It’s open!” Came the voice from inside 

The two of them slipped in, Adam taking off his shoes and Sunny wiping her damp feet on the entrance rug.

They walked into the living room to find his mother, Martha sitting on the floor at the center of an explosion of pictures, and a couple of open binders.

Adam and Sunny walked in very carefully stepping over the pictures.

“Sorting the photo album again?” “Again, the last time I did this was almost ten years ago.” 

Adam wantered closer to his mother and Sunny curiously examined some of the photos, until one caught her eye.

A very tiny, chubby human barely able to stand on his own, and with bright green eyes.

She picked up the picture gingerly in one hand, “Awww is this you? You and your fat little cheeks.”

Adam turned, and Sunny held up the picture. Adam blushed and Martha laughed, Sunny looked at the next picture in the line, which seemed to be paired to the first, but now the small boy had a large bucket on his head, his feet sticking out from underneath. The bucket had holes in the side.

“What are you doing.”

Martha laughed again, “We were playing hide and seek.” Adam was still blushing madly as she continued, “He grew into his intelligence late in life.”

***

Martha walked slowly from the back room into the living room, “Ready or not here I come.”

The house was mostly quiet. The rest of her brood was out with their father on a hike for the day, but their littlest had woken up with a slight cough so she had decided to keep him home. He had spent the first half of the day lethargic, but around lunch time after some strawberries he had perked up and become  his usual exhausting self.

“Come out come out. I’m gonna get you.”

It was the giggling that gave him away, but when she turned to look she paused, sagged a bit and rolled her eyes covering her smile and laugh with a hand. The living room was completely clean, aside from a round laundry basket sitting dead in the middle, and two chubby little legs sticking out from under it. Not to mention that since it was a laundry basket it had holes in the side, and she could see him looking at her from inside.

She discreetly took a picture and quietly to herself Lord child i hope you grow into your brains soon

But instead of calling him out on his hiding spot she wandered around the room hands on hips, “Now where could he have gone…. Could he be under here?”

Giggling 

She kept up the pretence for the longest time until he seemed to have gotten tired of her charade. She heard the bucket tip over and he ran over on his stubby little legs grabbing her by the leg.

She acted surprised, “OH there you are!. I have been looking ALL over.”

He grinned and hugged her leg again.

She reached down and picked him up and he rested his head against her shoulder.

That was another thing about her youngest. He was VERY VERY cuddly, and she idly wondered what that would translate to when he got older. She patted his back and tried to fix his unruly blond hair which stuck up from all sides of his head, but it was no use, she sighed and gave up.

Oh well, she tried her best.

***

“You know honestly sometimes he is STILL as dumb as a pile of bricks.” Sunny mused setting the picture back down.

Adam rubbed the back of his neck, “I got my masters in aviation and orbital physics.””

“And yet who is the one who insists on putting strange alien plants in his mouth without knowing i they are safe or not.”

Martha frowned at her youngest.

He frowned back, “That is hardly fair, you eat them.”

“I also eat leaves, doesn’t mean you can too.”

She sifted through the pictures and barked a laugh at one that caught her eye, she picked it up, what are you doing. She turned the picture around, and Adam blushed madly. Martha laughed, “Oh yeah, we had to call the fire department for that one.”

“No, no no we are not going to be telling that story.”

A firefighter and a cop framed either side of the picture both giving exaggerated thumbs up with a young boy\ mabe seven or eight in the background stuck, backside first in a bucket of some sort, looking very embarrassed.

Martha grinned, “I think you were seven or eight maybe.”

“IT was Jeromy’s fault.”

****

“I dare you.”

The four boys and one girl stood  at the top of the hill staring down.

Maya, who was fifteen years old, older by five years than Jeremy who was eleven, frowned down the hill, “What if he runs into one of those trees.”

“He's got a thick skull, he’ll be ok.” Thomas said ruffling Adam’s hair viciously so the younger boy squirmed protested and ducked away. Adam was a very small boy, shorter than average and very thin. His clothes always seemed too big, his shirts baggy, and the shorts he was wearing were forced to stay on only by the belt his father had had to poke three more holes into to make it fit.

Even his sneakers seemed too big flopping around on his feet with floppy untied laces. 

“Who is even going to fit in that?” David asked.

Arguably the smartest of the three brothers, it hadn’t occurred to the others that none of them would fit.

That’s when all their heads turned to look at Adam.

Adam frowned, “But I don’t want to.”

“Chiken.” Thomas said 

“Come on your the only one small enough.” Jeremy urged.

“I see your chances of dying as very low, “ David interjected helpfully.

Maya tossed her braid back over one shoulder, “We should at least put some padding down at the bottom. Because if he gets hurt mom will kill me.”

Maya was technically supposed to be babysitting them, and keeping them out of trouble. But as was common with their family, she was not immune to the pull of a hair brained idea especially not when she was just to curious to see how it turned out.

Adam stomped his foot, “But you guys ALWAYS make me do it.”

“Because the buckets are ALWAYS too small for us, “Come on don’t be a chicken.”

Adam sighed and walked over to the barrel. He tired crawling inside it backwards, and when that didn’t work he attempted to go in face first, but every time he was just to tall.

He shook his head, “Too small.”

David looked at him very thoughtfully, and then an idea seemed to jump into his head.

“Not if we fold you in half.”

Adam frowned at him.

“Come on, hold the barrel upright.” The other boys did as told, while David instructed Adam to sit inside butt first.

Adam frowned, “But that doesn’t sound very comfortable, and how am I going to get out.”

“We will tip you out, don’t worry.”

Adam frowned but then allowed himself to slide down into the barrel. It was immediately very uncomfortable.

He wanted to tell them to pull him out but by that time he had been tipped over onto his side, “Ready?”

“No.”

They ignored him.

Adam was near panicking now, it wasn’t exactly easy to breathe.

“Three, two, one.”

And then the world was spinning around him. He rocked and bounced and spun so fast his eyes rolled inside his head. He screamed but the scream was cut off as he slammed painfully into something.

Dazed and sure he was going to vomit, he heard voices.

“Oh no, Adam!”

“Adam are you ok!”

Footsteps raced down the hill.

“Oh no we killed him!”

“Shut up He’s still alive, look.” Something kicked his foot, and he groaned.

He’s still breathing.

“Let him out.”

Something tugged on his feet. But it only managed to pull him and the barrel with it.

“Here you guys hold the bucket and we will pull him out.

Wat ensued was a horrible tug of war on his legs and on the bucket neither of which seemed to want to let go.

“STOP!”

They dropped his legs.

“Um, what if we tipped the bucket upside down?”

“Ok.”

The four of them tried really hard, and at one point almost succeeded until someone’s hand slipped and Adam crashed into the ground very painfully. He was near panic now, “Guys! Get me out of here.”

David patted his foot, “Its ok, ill get you out, ‘we just need science.”

Science turned out to be a  shoddy pulley system that went over the swing set and was designed to let them lift the bucket by way of rope and shake Adam out onto the ground.

The problem was the rope kept slipping off the bucket.

“Oh… no.”

A car rolled over gravel.

“Oh no, dad’s home.”

They heard a car door slammed shut, and Adam felt as the others hurriedly rolled him behind the swingset.

A door opened and the jangle of keys followed their father around the side of the house.

“There you all are, glad to see everyone is still in one piece, you didn’t burn the house down.”

“Nope.”

“Nope.”

There was sudden silence, “Where is Adam.”

“Uh, he…. He is us, around here somewhere.” Jeremy had always been bad at lying 

Their father turned his gaze on Maya, “Maya what is going on.”

“Uh…. nothing dad, we….”

“Don’t even try it….”

She sagged a bit, “We got Adam stuck in a barrel.”

There was a moment of silence, he heard the shifting of footsteps, “You got Adam stuck in a-” The light filtering into the barrel was cut off and he saw the silhouette of his father’s head, “Huh, you weren’t kidding. You are okay in their kiddo.”

His muffled reply came.

“Yeah…. I guess.”

Their dad grabbed the barrel by one end, tipped it over and shook Adam a few times. WHen nothing happened he gently set him back down, “Huh.”

“I hold and you pull his feet, “” They tried again but it didn’t work the second time either.

“Well, I have some tools in the garage.”

Adam began to panic as he thought of his dad's circular table saw.

“NO!”

“Ok ok.”

He heard his dad quiet for a minute and then, “Hey Joe, yeah this is Jim Vir….. doing good, and you, how about the family….. Glad to hear it….. Yeah anyway, my kids got my youngest boy stuck in a barrel like the geniuses they are, and I can’t seem to get him out. You want to send me a firefighter or two with something that can help….. Yeah thanks joe.”

Adam was relieved.

Of course as it turned out it was a slow day at both the police department AND the fire station, so what came rolling up was a motorcade of emergency vehicles. Adam was so embarrassed he wished he could melt through the barrel and into the ground as a group of cops and firefighters walked over to peer down at him from above.

“That looks comfortable.”

“How are you doing there son?”

There barrel was tipped back over, and he even saw his father sna a few pictures as the firefighters and police went to work surrounding the barrel. Of course since the entire towns emergency crew were here that drew curious neighbors who couldn’t help but laugh along with Jim at the antics of his children.

The wors part is when Martha showed up, and ran from the car scared out of her mind assuming something horrible had happened, only to find her husband laughing and taking pictures with the local emergency response team, and her youngest stuck in an oversized bucket.

At the end of the day they were forced to cut him out, but the sweet relief when he tipped onto the ground free at least was almost worth the embarrassment. He might not have thought that if he had known there was still a picture in both the police department and the fire station of him as a kid stuck in a barrel.

***

Sunny was laughing at him by the time Martha was done with her story.

He grimaced, “Why do you only keep finding the embarrassing pictures.

“Oh what is this,”

“What are you wearing?”

Adam covered his eyes.

“Oh yeah, I couldn’t get my other boys to wear it, but he would model anything for me when I needed it. This was when I was doing a commission for a Seventies themed party. Isn’t he adorable.”

“Is that a jumpsuit, and what is with those glasses.”

Adam looked up at the sky.

“And of course when Maya moved out, and I didn’t have the money for a mannequin….”

Sunny picked up another picture, “That is one big ass dress.”

“Ah yes the bell skirts, doesn’t he look nice.”

Adam grunted and cleared his throat, “I think you'll find corsets are surprisingly comfortable. Second of all, I rock the regency and victorian periods, and no one can tell me otherwise.”

He might as well own it.

This was the 41st century, dresses weren’t just for women anymore, and some of them had been quite comfortable.

They would never really be his style, but he could see  why someone else would find them appealing.

By this point both Sunny and martha had migrated to the couch where they looked through embarrassing pictures of him as a baby and shared embarrassing stories. Sometimes gross stories as he sat on the other side of the room and suffered silently. Sunny seemed to be enjoying herself though, so he let it slide.

Seeing her happy was nice, since it hadn’t been very common over the past few months.

He blamed himself for that, and wondered idly how long it would take for her to fully forgive him.

He hoped not long.

[artxyra]

So I had this idea and I was wondering if you would write it. So damian has lived with his dad for a couple of years, he is 15/16 and his brothers have been nagging him about going on a date like a normal teenager for months now, and then one day he just snaps and screams at them " don't you get it I'm already betrothed!" His brothers are confused but try to help " I'm sure we can find a loophole and get you out of it!" "No. If the betrothal is broken the league will kill her."enter marinette.

Note: Well this story sounded better in my head, but it took forever to type up. I hope you enjoy it. 

Damian couldn’t remember a time when his brothers didn’t make an attempt at his love life. Every other month (sometimes weeks) it was attempt after attempt.  He hated it. At first, he humored his brothers, but that humor quickly turned to the opposite emotion. Though Damian’s biggest secret thought that it was hilarious, and it was.

Damian remembers their first attempt, he was only fourteen, been in the Waynes’ custody for almost four years. He remembers being tugged into a bathroom and then forces to wear silly fancy clothes. His brothers should have been lucky that he didn’t have his weapons on him. To them, it was to gain the high school boy experience since Damian refused to do any of the sorts. Shouldn’t they just happy that he has one friend at the very least? Nope, they really wanted Damian to have a sense of normality.

“Baby bird, every teen goes on a date. Please just do this for us.” It was Dick that had started the persuasion. Damian had only tsk and fold his arms against his chest. He was already fed up with all the bullshit spewing from the older adopted Wayne’s mouth.

“Why should I even do this? I barely know the har—girl and—” Damian begins to scowl as Dick interrupts him by tossing a vest for him to wear. He mentally gags at the texture of the vest. Damian had scene better quality, not that he’ll tell where.

“We promise it will be worth it.”  It was Tim that adds to the conversation as Jason was to busy cleaning up his knife in broad daylight.

It wasn’t long after that was the date with a Gotham native. She wasn’t up to his standards; it was clear that she didn’t want to be with him for him. To this day he suspects that she only agreed because of the money. Damian tried everything to make the date super uncomfortable for the girl even going so far as to make up an explicitly detailed gory story. She left cursing his brothers, mainly Dick, out at the end of their date.

Damian had thought that would be the one and only time that would happen…he had forgotten the stubbornness that runs in the family. Failing was not an option as this continues for another four years.

“I’m sure it was a fun date.” A female’s voice says from the screen of his laptop, that was place on his dresser as he does shadow movements with his katana.

“It was tiresome, Angel, and quite frankly I’m getting sick of it.” Damian lowers the blade to his side and turns to face the screen. On the screen is a lovely female, around his age with long dark hair that drapes over her shoulders. She lets out a giggle.

“I’m sure they have the best intentions, besides it’s not like they know I exist, anyway.” She says rolling her eyes.

“Angel, I love you, but not even you can last an evening with the dates they have set up over and over again.” Damian sighs putting up the katana. He then picks up the laptop and goes to lie on his bed.

“Well, I’m sure it will all be fine. Besides, I have a surprise for you that is coming soon. Just hold out until then. Okay?” She says with a bright as a loud sound goes off in the background. Damian sighs and nods before ending the video call. He hates keeping her a secret, but it was the right thing to do.

It was a week later when his brothers came to him with another blind date proposal signally the tenth time that has happened in a span of a month. Everyone could see the growing frustration in the young Wayne heir. With the mention of dates, couples, restaurant, manhood, romance, it would set Damian off, although he was quick to calm down with a message from an Angel.

“Look Demon spawn, she is literally perfect for you.” It was an excuse, something for him to look forward to. No one is perfect.  

“C’mon baby bird, she could be the one.” Another excuse. There was only one girl that was the one and she’s several hundred thousand miles away.

“Go, it all fancy and shit, also the NDA.” Ugh, this was becoming numbing. Damian could only wish to slide his fine blade across all their necks. Also, why the hell would Jason even mention an NDA to him in the first place?

“What is this? Another blind date for the young master?” Thank god for Alfred.

“Alfred, we promise this will be the last time.” That’s a lie and he knows it.

Damian could feel the growing headache forming at the back of his mind. Dick’s moving too fast, Tim’s giving him all the details about his so-called date, and well Jason is just being Jason.

“Enough!” Damian finally breaks. “The reason why I don’t like going on these so-called blind dates is because I’m betrothed to someone.” The word betrothed rings through the heads of his family members.

“Wha~!” Simultaneously, the older Waynes’ minds break.

“Is there any way you can break it off? A loophole even? How are you betrothed?” Shouldn’t that had been asked backward? They could all see the steam oozing out of Damian’s ears.

Crossing his arms and turning his back to his brothers, Damian looks down. “No, not unless you want a death on your hands. The only way to end a betrothal is to kill the other, that has always been the League’s away of things.” The second the last word left his lips, Damian walks away; he needs to talk with his Angel.

Still in shock, everyone turns to one another.

“How could we have missed that?” Tim screeches before taking a sip from his mug despite the shaking in his hand.

Dick was unsure what to say, think, or do. It’s not every day you learn the brother you’ve been setting up is engaged. An engagement that they could not break.

“I’m more worried who the brat is engaged too?” Jason murmurs then proceed to clean out his gun. His brothers stare at him with wide eyes unsure what to say to the second oldest.

For the next week after that bomb drop, his brothers continue to pester him about his betrothal, they even managed to include Bruce in the conversation a couple of times. If it wasn’t for Alfred, Damian knows that the pestering would have left someone in the hospital.

On a rare sunny day in Gotham, Damian had taken Titus out for a walk. It was clear his mind and to get away for the time being. Finding a nice park bench to sit on, he pulls out a small sketchpad and begins to sketch. Titus runs around enjoying the outdoors.

“Is this spot taken?” The voice sounded so familiar. He grunts ever once looking up the person afraid that he had misheard the voice. “Oh, c’mon Dams, I thought you would be happy to see me.” It was then that he looks up. In shock, he pushes the sketchpad to the side and pulls the person in front of him into his arms.

“I miss you.” He murmurs into her dark hair. “But how?”

“I managed to win the Martha Wayne scholarship, and then your butler Alfred got into contact with me about visiting.” She says looking up to Damian, though she was mainly seeing his chin due to their height difference. “You’ve grown.” She then pouts.

Damian lets out a soft chuckle, hoping that no one outside of his Angel heard him. His Angel places her head against his chest and together they stayed like that until Titus decided that he was some attention.

“Awe, he’s so cute.” She says petting the Great Dane.

Damian was internally happy to have her by his side for the first time in years. She’s the one that is perfect for him and it’s not because she was molded to be, but because she knows him inside and out.

When Damian, Titus, and his Angel returned to the manor, it is Alfred that they see first.

“Welcome home, young master, and Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Alfred greets the teen.

“Alfred, please call me Marinette, my last name can be a mouth full,” Marinette says giving the butler a smile. Alfred nods and proceeds to guide them to the living room. “So, this is the Wayne manor, those photos you send me Dams does this no justice.”

Damian once again chuckles knowing she’ll be in a heavily inspired by the architecture which will then cause her to go dark until she finishes whatever project came out of the inspiration.

“Angel, how about I give you a proper tour of the manor?” He offers to which she gladly takes.

Marinette had been staying at the Wayne manor for a couple of days before Damian brothers make their grand entrance. Without catching sight of the girl, they make their way to the youngest Wayne hoping to get some answers about his betrothal.

“Um, you can ask me if you want,” Marinette says from behind the boys causing an outcry of emotions.

“What you’re real?” It was Tim rubbing his eyes that speaks first.

Marinette awkwardly nods, “And you need sleep. I have a special brew that can knock anyone out within seconds.” She says to Tim before turning to the others. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you.”

Dick and Jason stare at the girl lost for words. Dick was internally gushing about her size and how cute she is compared to Damian while Jason struggles to comprehend the person in front of him.

Marinette closes the gap between her and Jason. She looks over the second oldest and smiles sadly. “You have so much darkness around you. The same that used to be around Dams. I could help you if you want.” She says taking the male’s hand.

Jason was lost for words. This person was willing to help him. He wasn’t sure how to feel but the light flowing off of this tiny person was overpowering.

“That’s it you’re my new favorite sibling. I will protect you with my life.” Dick cries out starting the competition of who’s Marinette’s favorite brother-in-law.

Not surprisingly enough, Marinette warmed her way into the Wayne family. She even bonded with Steph, Cass, and Barbara whenever the girls came over for a girls-only day. Damian quickly was reminded why he didn’t want his family to know about her, seeing that he barely has time with her as his siblings take all the time away. Though it has it’s benefits. He can now visit Marinette in France without needing to sneak away and she could come to visit the manor whenever she wants.

Damian knew the moment he said “I do”, she’ll be his forever in life and in death just like he’ll be hers forever.

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[thatsgay-writes]

Flashback 1

PREVIOUS

"Y/n! Come on your gonna be late for practice." Your older brother yells up the stairs to you. "I'm coming!" You yell back as you jump over the last step and run to the door. "Okay I'm ready to go." You say seriously as you look up at your brother. "Shin guards?" "Check." "Cleats?" "Check." "Water?" "Check." "Snacks?" "Oh my gosh, check! I have everything I swear!" You say as you push your brother.

Your brother... Elijah. Two years older than you, second year of college, and the only person you could trust. Elijah had basically raised you growing up. Your mom and dad were never home and when they were, they always had something to say negatively to you or about you. "You're grades are terrible. Have you always looked like that? Disgusting. I should have aborted you when I had the chance." And many other things would get thrown your way when the two of them were home. You were just glad that they provided a stable income so they couldn't get on your case about something else.

You hop into the passenger seat of Elijah's car and buckle up ready to go. Elijah backs out of the driveway and starts down the road. "You need a ride after practice?" You blush at your brother's question. "No Toni said she would walk me home." Your brother smirks at you. "The same Toni who you've had a crush on since freshmen year." You rolls your eyes and punch your brother's shoulder. "Shut up..." "Hey man don't hit the driver! Or I'll pull over and let you walk the rest of the way." Elijah says jokingly. You smile at him and roll your eyes. "Whatever."

*After Practice*

"Where the hell is Toni?" You ask yourself as you wait in the back parking lot. You see a random car you've never seen pull up into a parking spot and stop. No one gets out of the car and that sparks your curiosity. You crane your head some to see who was in the car and your heart breaks. Toni was in there swapping spit with the new girl Regan. You look away and start walking as soon as you see them start to remove each other's shirts. You knew that you and Toni hadn't talked about it but you thought the two of you were exclusive, dating even. You had turned down girls because Toni would get jealous when you got flirted with and try to fight them.

You shake your head and let a few tears out as you walk around the side of the building. Even if you weren't dating, she forgot about you and that's probably what hurt the most. You grab your phone and call Elijah. "Hey Y/n! You and Toni get tired of walking?" You can hear the smile in his voice. You sniffle a little and Elijah is immediately concerned. "Y/n? What happened?" "She..." You take a deep breath. "She forgot about me and, and..." "Hey c'mon take a deep breath before you get a panic attack or something." You nod your head, even though he can't see you, and take a deep breath. "She was fucking some other girl." "But I thought y'all were like dating?" You take a deep breath and let out a fake laugh. "Yeah so did I. I guess only one of us was allowed to fuck around. Can you just come pick me up? Please?" You hear keys jingle in the background and hear Elijah moving. "Of course I'm on my way."

You stood outside for about an hour wondering where Elijah was. "Where the hell is he?" You wonder as you shake some from the cold. You feel arms wrap around you and you get a whiff of Toni's cologne. You almost relax into her grip until you remember what you had witnessed. You almost immediately back out of her hold and turn around with your arms crossed. "What are you doing?" Toni asks in confusion. "Oh no, you don't get to play that innocent bullshit with me." Toni looks at you even more confused and you just roll your eyes. "What time were we supposed to meet to walk home?" Toni looks at the clock on her phone and tenses. "Two hours ago..." "Exactly, where the fuck have you been?" Toni rubs the back of her neck nervously, "I was just..." "Don't even try and lie to me." You say as you realize she was stalling and it made you mad. "What kind of shit are your trying to play Toni? Huh? Another girl shows interest in me and you go bat shit crazy and threaten to beat her the fuck up. But you can go around and fuck some other bitch? How the hell does that make sense!" You yell at her.

"Listen, Y/n... I'm sorry. I really do..." You hold up your hand to cut her off. "No, just stop whatever explanation your trying to make up. We have been in this weird dating but not dating parallel thing for almost 6 months! I've been patiently waiting for you to finally just ask me to be your girlfriend cause whenever I ask for more you say no. What am I to you? Just some play toy or some shit?" You say getting up in Toni's face making her mad. Out the corner of your eye you see Toni's hand curl up into a ball. You raise an eyebrow at her and make eye contact. "What are you gonna do Toni? You can't punch your way out of this one." Toni takes a deep breath trying to calm down. You actually think she does until she turns around and starts punch the fuck out the building wall.

"Toni! Stop!" You yell and grab her by the waist and pull her away from the wall. "Toni, fuck." You say as you notice her bloody knuckles. You don't let go of her waist as tears roll down her face and grab your phone. "Martha, hey... yeah, I need you to come get Toni... we're at school... She punched the hell out of a wall... yeah, yeah... okay bye." You go to put your arm back around her waist when your phone starts ringing. You groan and answer the phone. "Hello?" "Hello is this y/n?" "Umm, yeah who's asking?." "This is the NorthWestern hospital, you are listed as the emergency contact under Elijah Woods."

Your heart starts beating loud. "Elijah? What happened? Is he okay?" You ask, scared out of your mind. "We think it's best we tell you the news in person." You hang up the phone and almost immediately start panicking. Oh fuck it's bad, it's bad. You think as you unwrap your arms from Toni and hug yourself. Toni notices the sudden change in your mood and immediately turns around to catch you as you collapse into her arms. "Y/n? What happened?!" Toni asks worriedly. "It's Elijah... He's at the hospital."

*Time Skip*

Elijah was dead, gone. A drunk driver took his life in broad daylight. Who the hell even gets drunk during the day like that?! You stood to the side of the casket as it was being lowered to the ground. Your parents stood next to you, playing the role of grieving parents. You knew it would end as soon as you got in the car and were out of site from people. And you were right, the moment you got home your parents called some movers to clear out Elijah's room. You managed to grab his guitar from the case and switch it with yours before anyone could notice. You're parents would freak but it was something to help you remember him. You and Toni were officially done, after the phone call about your brother and the argument you texted her the next day that it was over and to lose your number. You hadn't seen her since then.

NEXT

[maribabyart]

Do you have any Demon Martha headcanons? How do you think her reunion with Mrs. Mayberry (The teacher who paid for her assassination) in hell would go?

 OK YES I HAVE HEADCANONS FOR THIS HERE WE GO --

MARTHA HEADCANONS <3

So, I’m gonna start with her before she died so I can fully get into why every part of her is the way she is as a demon.

Martha is light skinned Latina woman with family coming from Venezuela. Her mother has a much darker skin tone than her, but her father is far more light-skinned, where she gets her complexion from. While she was raised in America, her parents were immigrants. She was born at home, and she didn’t get a birth certificate until she was four, the year before she started schooling.

She has three older brothers. They were very rambunctious with Martha as a child, pulling pranks on her/with her, taking her hunting, etc.

She was raised out on a farm in the middle of a forested area in Kentucky. They raised cattle, sheep, chickens, and horses. Martha’s main job on the farm was to groom/ride horses and feed chickens.

She learned her sharp-shooter skills in a more intense version of something like 4H unique to her area. She was fantastic with a bow and arrow, and even better with her firearms.

Cannibalism was normalized in Martha’s life from a young age. She knew that it must be kept secret from the outside world, and that it wasn’t accepted. However, it wasn’t something she found to be horrid.

Her family -- and their close friends -- came from a long lineage of Satanic cultists that practiced cannibalism to purge any bit of, “soul” remaining in the corpses of their sacrifices. Due to this, Martha had evolved to be able to be immune to the ill side effects of cannibalism, along with the ability to not feel repulsed by the idea of eating human meat.

Her favorite part of the body growing up was the brain, and it still is to this day. She loves the frontal lobe slathered in spices and hot sauce.

She began her cultish killings at age fourteen, when she officially joined the cult of her family’s descent -- Compañerismo de la Fruta Prohibida (Fellowship of the Forbidden Fruit, a refrence to their following of Lucifer)

Martha didn’t love Raphael Peterson, or, “Ralphie”. She was married of to him at age sixteen, when she became a, “Woman” in the cult’s eyes. They were both meant to appear as an ideal couple so that people wouldn’t suspect them, as their parents before them have.

Ralph and Martha always saw each other as friends with benefits.

They moved to Dayton, Tennessee to start their family when they turned eighteen.

In Nashville, Martha started singing to music her husband played in Taverns. Think Dolly Parton style music. She sounded a lot like that.

Their first child was born when Martha was eighteen: Their daughter, Jolene Peterson. Two years later, they had their son, Beau Peterson.

Martha was always really involved with her kids’ school activities, and she was always volunteering to work events, and her kids were in every activity they could be.

She used her physical attractiveness to seduce and kill men.

While sex favorable, Martha is on the aspec -- greysexual (sexual pleasure is irrelevant to her, and she only engages in it to appease her partner generally. She only finds sexual attraction in people while in the act.) Because of this fact, Martha only has affairs for the sake of gaining trust to bring the men home so they can be killed and eaten.

When Martha was shot, the community villainized Mrs. Mayberry because the town darling, Martha Jane Nunez Robles-Peterson, would NEVER cheat, right? The situation was misread: Martha was just talking to Jarold Mayberry that night about t-ball-related things, right? He WAS the the little league captain for her 6-year-old-son’s league, wasn’t he?

Martha was gifted millions by the community, and people were insanely supportive of her. They wanted the sweet Martha they, “knew” to get better soon. They loved her so -- such a darling woman!

Her music became more well known, and soon, Martha was all over TV. Her big musical break came from when she auditioned for American Idol and made it. Her sob-story propelled her, and she eventually won.

Martha was a hero to everyone around her -- surviving a traumatic event that was uncalled for, while also being so damn chipper and kind.

Hell, did you guys see the background in one of those scenes?! Martha was canonly proclaimed a SAINT! People loved her that much.

She used the public trust to lure in more victims and never be suspected.

Martha was 28 when she died. Ralphie was 28 as well. Jolene was 10, and Beau was 8.

Ralphie managed to survive the explosion, albeit he was completely paralyzed, and the two children went to heaven. Ralphie repented during his last month alive, and confessed to his crimes. He was sent to heaven as well.

Martha and the children were declared to have died in a bear attack, as Compañerismo de la Fruta Prohibida covered up their true demise with ease.

People were heart broken -- Martha’s music was used in sad collages on Youtube, Tik Toks had Martha’s face in them for memorials.

No one ever realized her crimes.

Now! As a demon....

In hell, Martha picked up the alias Hero -- it’s what she was in life, right? I’ll be calling her Hero from now on.

Hero is both different and similar to how she was when she was alive. She’s still the got her kind-hearted, southern mama vibe going for her: She tends to be able to fit into any demonic crowd well, either by attractiveness or by sheer, overwhelming allure -- she’s a very magnetic personality.

As far as powers go, Hero’s are mostly related to firearms. She’s acquired these powers through deal making and soul dealing, as most demons do. Her charming aura very quickly lure people into thinking she’s naive or really just being honest with them.

Her nails can peel back to allow her to shoot from, “finger guns”. Each finger is a different gun, besides her middle and index fingers. They are both shotguns. Together, they make a double barrel shotgun.

When in full demonic form, Hero’s bandages become sentient. They peel away from her wound, revealing a minigun like weapon in the hole in her head. This can rapid fire while the bandages can grab onto things or hoist Hero up. She can make this last for five minutes -- ten at the longest -- before she gives out to sheer exhaustion and needs to eat demon meat to replenish herself.

Within her first week in hell, she was known to be powerful. Not quite an overlord, but powerful enough to hang around overlords. 

She hit overlord status three months later, during the terf war seen in Hazbin Hotel’s pilot: She took several areas of land, and was seen to have several lesser demons flocking to be on her good side.

Hero used her land to build up a bar and grill that serves strictly demon meat and blood, where demons can play music and dance. It’s like a fucked up country dinner. It’s an insanely popular addition to Cannibal Colony, where she lives.

The place is called La Cocina de la Calle Kuru (The Kuru Street Kitchen)

Hero REALLY wants to get her hands on exterminator tools, but she’s not really a fan of black market deals -- it’s too “trashy” for her.

Hero knows Alastor pretty well, as he’s came in for meat and to watch the music. They’ve had pretty decent conversations while she was on break, seeing as they were both influential  southern, cannibalistic serial killers. It’s a running gag between them where they jokingly talk about who was more iconic -- “I bet I took out more belles in a lifetime than you could in your entire afterlife!” “Well hon, at least I could eat the brains without gettin’ Kuru!”

She talks to Rosie a lot about business, and has met Niffty and Mimzy before. (Al hooked a bitch up with some friends lmao)

She REALLY likes Mimzy. She reminds her of Ralphie, and they became super fast friends. 

Vox and Hero have a confusing sort of friendship, as neither really wants to be seen with the other -- In his case, because she’s much lower on the overlord spectrum than him, and in her case, because she’s no stranger to Alastor and Vox’s hatred for one another. However, she often finds herself consoling Vox on sleepless nights after closing up the bar, trying to convince him that Valentino is NOT worth his time. Beyond that and him occasionally paying her back in tech at random hours of the morning, they don’t talk often.

Hero LOVES dancing! Like, a lot.

She’s seen Charlie’s ad for the Happy Hotel. Her and Mimzy watched it, and they both thought it was the stupidest damn thing they’d ever seen. However, Hero said she was happy Charlie got up there, because she was just, “Cute as a button, that lil’ sweatpea was!”

Hero’s best friends are Mimzy and an unnamed demon who specializes in black market, extermination tool selling (the one seen in in Addict -- Cherri Bomb’s former lover).

These two people, and these two people alone, can call her “Martha”

Hero cooks whenever she’s stressed. She also adores sewing and binging soap operas and reality shows on Voxflix.

Hero’s Instagram would be, “HeroicMelodies” in reference to her music career and name.

Hero gets hit on A LOT, and she despises it. She doesn’t need to seduce people anymore to get away with murder, and she doesn’t want to. She dresses the way she does because she LIKES that clothing. People can fuck off.

The reason Hero is white and pink is to show how innocent she looks. Her pitch-black eyes show her dark soul.

Hero sings in Spanish to herself when cleaning up.

Sometimes, Hero and Rosie spend holidays going around with ground demon meat to throw to the hell crows and other critters. They find it peaceful.

Hero, shockingly, holds no hatred for I.M.P., and commonly jokes about how the I.M.P.’s, “Did her a favor” by sending her somewhere she can actually be her. She has no idea who called for the hit, though. 

Hero finds Blitzo’s Instagram posts being poorly spelled to be, “Damn near precious”.

She thinks he’s a teenager, and probably would think it less adorable if she knew he was a grown man with a grown kid.

Hero doesn’t care about Mrs. Mayberry at all. Like, at all. She honestly assumes the woman is in heaven. She knew Mayberry wasn’t bad -- she probably wouldn’t care if she was in hell, though. Oh well. Sucks to suck, bitch.

Husk frequents La Cocina de la Calle Kuru to drink and engage in the gambling scene. Hero finds him trashy, but can’t say she hates him. She finds him funny as hell, and enjoys the business. Just not someone she’d personally hang out with.

[randomsevans]

COULD OF HAD

Ransom Drysdale x Reader : if only he wasnt such an asshole he could of had the life he never knew he wanted , . Well until now.

'Do you really think I'll be a good father figure , eh! Do ya y/n '

You were gobsmacked, you didnt know what to say , you just stood there at the door tears streaming down your face. Then out of nowhere ransom began to smirk . 'What makes you think I'd even want it, ' he begans to laugh 'I dont care what you do with it, i don't care , you could go to the clinic tomorrow and I wouldnt give a shit ' you were in shook . But what more do you expect form the trust fund play boy . You place your hand on the door nob , calming down , once last glance at ransom before you leave . 'If that's want you want find , I'll do just fine on my own ' you said calmly ,but the take a step forward rage running though you 'but if in the future you ever feel like changing your mind 'you place a hand on your slightly bloated stomach 'DONT! Because MY ! Child will never know who you are. Just remember huge I gave you a chance and you'll never get another ' he didnt even look bothered more emumed at your out burst . You open the door wide and stomped at , throwing ransom pinky ring back at him , that moments ago was sitting on your hand . ' have a nice lonely life ransom drysdale , I hope you fuckin enjoy it ' he just laught at his door step , as you start the engiren of your car . ' oh ! I will ever much ,now I dont have you , you needy bitch that I knocked up , hope you enjoy your life with a bastard you never wanted ,hell knows I dont '

That was 3 years ago ,you sat in your living room in your tiny bedroom apartment, re -living that moment ,as my little pony plays on the tv , making background noise , while being surrounded by ponys and dolls.you were quickly taken away for your quited moment ,as a small hand fell on your knee , stabling her self so she could look up at you .

"Momma " her sweet little voice squeaked as you pulled her into your lap .

"Yes Clara?"

"Hungey "

"You hungry ?" She nodded , you quickly glance at the clock on the wall it was about time of lunch and then her nap .

"How about some bananas, eh ? " you said in the most high pitch voice you had.

"Yeahhhhhh, momma " a wide smile grew on her face , an all to familiar smile , the smile of her u grateful, good for nothing sperm donnar . Yes that's what you call him when ever someone ask about Clara's father, he doesn't deserve that title and never will ,EVER !

You being Clara into the small side kitchen and sit her on the floor as you began to chop her bananas, your 2 year old daughter waiting patiently. Until the door knocked, "who is it? " you ask "its Martha " she replied "it's open " . You and Martha used to work together at the Thornton manner , that's where you met him . You need some extra money for school so you took up the job for a small while . That were you met martha your very good friend , now neighbourhood,. You enjoy your 2 months there , making friends with Harlan as well as he made you feel part of his family. All while getting attacked to a certain dick head and wasted the next year and half , with, you still dont even know if it was a serious relationship you knew he still sleeped around when he felt like, and you let him walk all over , as he falsely accused you were his main girl and gave you his stuiped pinky ring. That near two year 'relationship ' ended once you found out you were pregnant, at the time you either thought it would be the making or breaking for your 'relationship 'with ransom . And it turned out to be a joke to him, to see you stuck with a problem he left you with . You doubt that your the only women who has being put in the same situation by ransom.

As martha walk into the small kitchen contacted to the living room , she picked up clara , and swung her around , making clara do the most gorgeous laugh you adore so much .

"So martha , what can I do for you this fine day " you giggled facing away fo finish your daughters lunch .

"Um ... well " you heard her place clara back down , you can tell shes nervous so you turn around and look her in the eyes. "Umm well I sorta ... well I need you help " she quickly glanced at you then focused on the panels on the floor .

"Sure martha I'll help ya , what is it ?" You laugh, you dont get why shes so nervous.

" um you'll get paid dont worry , you'll get a good amount , I need help at an event " she said shyly .

"Sure I could use the extra money, what event is it ? "Doesnt sound to bad , a good days work some extra money in your pocket and go working with your best friend, sounds good enough.

"Harlan birthday " she quickly blurted out , your eyes grew wide .

"Martha ..." you began shaking your head .

" there no garanity he would be there , and if he is I'll try my best to keep him away form you and I promise I wont mention anything about clara , I havnt for the last 3 years have I " she shrugged with a pleading smile . Martha is the only person who knows that clara is Hugh's daughter , you doubt he even told hes family that you two ended it , there probably guessed on there own and didnt give a shit how you were getting on , apart form harlan who gave you a few phone calls months after to check up on you

" Martha a I just dont kn..."

Cut of once again "y/n harlan isn't getting any younger and he says how much it would be nice to see you again , and it would be a nice little surprise for him .... please y/n I need the little extra help "

"Okay " how could you say no to that .

"Really !"

"Yes so when is it?"

"Tomorrow "

"What ! "You nearly shouted

"I know , I know .. but my sister can look after clara while we work "

You just nodded in response totally not prepared if you do indeed see ransom tomorrow.

[thepurplebutterflythings]

Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird (Part 16) - Jason Todd

Gif: Dxnninja on Tenor

Word Count: 2.1K

Paring: Jason Todd (Titans) x (f)Reader

Summary: Jason and Y/N spend some quality time together while Dick third wheels. Y/N meets the board of Wayne Enterprises.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: This is a little series I am doing about Jason Todd in Titans. I don’t know Comic!Jason very well so I’m taking all of this from the show, and at the moment he hasn’t been in very often, so please forgive any mischaracterisations.

Tagging: @bella-0104-123 @ninergirl1d @httpfandxms @rosybrock @attackonnat @reclusive-chicken-nugget   @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @young-psychos @thesleepykaijuu @thescottpack @nightlygiggles @rougestorms @sinon36​ @acvrosstheuniverse @friedchickening​ @chillybabe

________________________________________________________________

There was zero chance for Jason and Y/N to sneak away as they jumped over the roof tops of Gotham with Dick overseeing them. He loitered behind them the entire time, watching them with an eagle eye, never giving them a chance to escape and enjoy themselves.

‘We can’t get five minutes to ourselves,’ Y/N sighed as her and Jason dawdled over the rooftops, Dick lingering behind them just enough so they could talk privately but close enough that they couldn’t ditch him.

‘Yeah, sorry about him,’ Jason smiled sympathetically to Y/N, his mask covering his cheekbones but highlighting his eyes. ‘If I knew he was so close then I would’ve been quieter.’

‘Not your fault,’ Y/N assured Jason, ‘as he said – he’s technically my brother now. Aren’t big brothers supposed to be, like, giant pains in the ass?’

‘You’d prefer a little brother?’ Jason chuckled. ‘Aren’t they like… little demons or something?’

‘I don’t know – I’ve been an only child all my life now I’ve got a new dad and a brother along with that,’ Y/N shrugged as she waited for Jason to climb over a roof that she had already conquered, ‘it’s a totally new life. I’ve got to adjust to it all, I guess.’ Y/N smiled tightly as Jason landed on his feet next to her. ‘It’s been months though, since I learned who my dad was, and since I met Dick, I thought I’d be used to this by now.’

‘Come on,’ Jason said, ‘you can’t really expect to just walk into a new life and not be affected by the change, Kitty Cat. You’re only human.’

‘But I’m more than ‘only human’, aren’t I?’ Y/N groaned and leaned her head against the bricks, ‘I’m Batman’s daughter, I’m Catwoman’s daughter. I was raised by Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn. For fuck sake, I pet-sit Hyenas on my Saturday nights.’

‘That doesn’t mean you’re unshakable,’ Jason said, placing his hands on her waist and resting his forehead against hers. ‘You have every right to feel overwhelmed and not know how to adjust or know what to do – everyone feels like that, regardless of background, of who they are. It’s human.’

‘I know,’ Y/N nodded and spoke quietly, ‘but I’ve never felt this overwhelmed by life before. Becoming Lynx was easy, coming to terms with Mum being a criminal was easy, knowing who Auntie Ivy and Auntie Harley were was easy, fighting the Joker was easy – this is so unknown to me.’

‘Well,’ Jason kissed the end of her nose gently, ‘I’ll help you through it. I’ll hold your hand the whole time.’

‘Hey, you love birds alright?’ Dick asked appearing behind them.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Y/N nodded, ‘just talking, appreciating the distance from the paps.’

‘Yeah, they’re a pain,’ Dick smiled awkwardly, ‘after I moved out of the manor, they left me alone, but before that, they were utter hell!’

‘So, in your professional opinion,’ Jason began, ‘when will they leave us all alone?’

‘Honestly?’ Dick frowned, ‘not till they get what they want.’

‘And what do they want?’ Jason asked.

‘They want me, don’t they?’ Y/N mumbled, ‘to know me?’

‘Pretty much,’ Dick nodded, ‘they’re vultures, and they’ll keep circling. If they don’t get the information through us, as a family, they’ll get it somewhere else, a less legit source, and then that’s the public’s opinion of you.’

________________________________________________________________

For the first time since her formal announcement to the public, Y/N Kyle-Wayne was back inside the building of Wayne Enterprises, not as an intern, nor as Bruce Wayne’s assistant or Jason Todd’s girlfriend, but as the future CEO of the company. To say it was overwhelming was an understatement. Shaking from head to toe, Y/N gulped as she was led by Bruce towards the board room, filled with board members who were eager to tear her apart and prove she had no right to the Wayne Fortune or Business. Stopping in the middle of the hallway, Y/N pressed her hands against the wall to brace herself. Bruce and Dick stopped and watched before Bruce approached his daughter.

‘You alright?’ Bruce asked softly as he rubbed her back.

‘Nervous,’ she confessed.

‘We don’t have to do this today,’ Bruce said in a comforting voice, ‘we can call the whole thing off.’

‘No, no,’ Y/N shook her head, standing up straight, ‘let’s do it. Rip the bandage off.’

‘We’ll be right there with you,’ Dick assured his sister.

‘I know,’ Y/N nodded, giving a hesitant smile before the trio continued towards the board room.

‘Ready?’ Bruce asked, placing his hand on the handle.

‘Let’s go,’ Y/N said as Bruce opened the door. The three walked into the boardroom. A long wooden table took up most of the space with elegant office chairs blocking any and all free space. Every single one of those chairs were filled with members of the board of Wayne Enterprises. All were old, miserable men who stared Y/N down the moment she walked in. Seeing the large, ceiling to floor windows that overlooked the Gotham skyline, Y/N felt at ease, sighing in relief before meeting the shark eyes of the board members.

‘Mr Wayne,’ one of the men said standing up, ‘Mr Grayson.’

Y/N noticed how he didn’t acknowledge her, but rather her father and Dick, and looking at the other two, they noticed it as well. Dick coughed and folded his arms.

‘What? My sister isn’t good enough to be greeted like a human being?’ Dick spoke up.

‘No, no,’ Y/N turned to Dick, ‘I’m sure the man had a perfectly good reason for being unbearably rude to the future CEO of Wayne Enterprises, right, sir?’

The old man merely quirked his lip and met the gaze of the young Wayne, almost amused.

‘Well, young lady, you must understand how your position in the Wayne Line is obviously up for debate, and anyway, you are far too young and… delicate to take the position of CEO. CEO’s need to be strong and respectable.’

‘Dude,’ Dick chuckled, ‘she served my ass to me the first time we met – she’s stronger and more respectable than all of you lot put together.’’

‘He’s saying I can’t run a company because I’m female,’ Y/N said, ‘right? Along with questioning whether I am a Wayne.’

‘Well, what name did you go by for most of your life? It was that Street Rat Girl Mr Wayne fawned over in childhood, correct? Kyle?’

‘Selina is her mother, yes,’ Bruce said, ‘and her father is indeed I. You can see the DNA test results that we have. Obviously, I was prepared for those who would doubt the truth that was right in front of you. Can’t you see the Wayne in her?’

‘Mr Wayne, you surely cannot expect this… girl to lead the company after you leave.’

‘I can and I will.’

‘And I have a name,’ Y/N snapped, ‘if any of my future employees would care to know.’

‘My son would make a far superior CEO than this girl.’

‘Again, I’ve got a name.’

‘Just meet with him.

‘Oh, I’ve met your son, O’Connor,’ Bruce scoffed, ‘the one doing lines of cocaine in the bathroom at the Gala, yes? Utterly unfit and, currently, being arrested by GCPD for possession and use of drugs.’

Y/N placed a firm hand on O’Connor’s upper arm.

‘O’Connor – is it?’

‘Greggory O’Connor,’ the man said.

‘Well, Greg, mind if I call you Greg?’ Y/N said, not giving him a chance to answer before carrying on, ‘why don’t you take a seat and listen for a change rather than shove your nose where it doesn’t belong, especially when you’re as misogynistic as you have been towards me, who is, I will remind you yet again, is your future boss. And you still haven’t asked me my name.’

‘What is your name, Miss Wayne?’ Another man spoke up as Greggory sat back down. This man looked kinder, warmer with a greying beard and wire glasses.

‘It’s Y/N,’ she said directly to the man, ‘and you are?’

‘Lucius Fox,’ he smiled at Y/N, ‘I see the Wayne in you. Stoic – just like your grandfather, but a warmth that is undeniably Martha, especially in those eyes.’

‘Thank you, Mr Fox,’ Y/N nodded towards the man as she took her spot at the front of the room, ready to address the members.

‘I have no doubt that when you lead the company, you shall do it with the strength and values that all previous Waynes’ have had.’

‘I like him’ Y/N said, turning to her father, ‘don’t fire him,’ she joked, causing a few little laughs in the room. ‘Now, I’m certain that if you asked all of us in this room at this point last year where we’d all end up, none of us would’ve said here, in this moment. Especially I of all people. Yes, as Mr O’Connor and my father said, my mother is Selina Kyle, who did grow up on the streets, but she has worked hard to provide me with a stable and good life. I do want to be CEO of Wayne Enterprises. I believe that we, as an international enterprise and a Gotham based one as well, need to show that, when we work together, Gotham can be more than criminals that run the city, we need to show that, when the people stand up against the evil and wrongs in the world, we can make a difference. A lot of people in Gotham are pushed aside, never heard, and those people are the ones who suffer the consequences of us and our ignorance. My mother was one of those people, and she was lucky and was able to claw her way out, though it wasn’t without hardships. But we need to make sure that none have to the pain and trials and tribulations that my mother went through, and that starts with us.’ Y/N paused, ‘As some have made themselves abundantly clear, you are not happy with me eventually becoming CEO of Wayne Enterprises, although I don’t want to be cruel here but I will state the truth I don’t know how many of you will be with us when what time comes, sorry if that comes to a shock to any of you but death is inevitable. I do hope that the ones of you who are happy with me will be able to work alongside me in using Wayne Enterprises power and influence to better Gotham City, and hopefully other places in the world. Those who aren’t fond of me and perhaps are secretly plotting against me, no offence if you don’t like me and aren’t plotting against but this is Gotham – we’ve been trained to expect the worse – I hope that you take this moment to do one of two things, one, you look at yourself and your world view and question why you are so threatened by me becoming the CEO, and hopefully we can see eye-to-eye and work well together. I don’t want any arguments to breakout amongst us all, we’re supposed to be colleagues, teammates, brothers-in-arms even against the war in Gotham. If you still cannot, or will not, work with me and see eye-to-eye, are still threatened by me, a young woman who will work hard to achieve her aims in life and will not be threatened, blackmailed or bullied by those weak willed and weak minded fools, I hope you take that as your queue to end your time here at Wayne Enterprises. I do look forward to working with you, and I hope we can do it like a family, for that is what everyone in Gotham is, family. No one else knows what it is like to live in Gotham, for it is a complex and unusual upbringing to have, and that is our strength as a city, no matter where we are from in Gotham, rich or poor, young or old, we all grew up the same, with that fear of the criminals and what they would do. Some of us were lucky enough to do it in a penthouse, others in crappy apartments, and others on the streets, but at our core, we’re all the same. We are Gotham. Let’s change it for the better.’ She finished and stepped back, slowly but surely members of the board began to clap for Y/N, all except O’Connor who stood up and met the trio’s gaze.

‘My letter of resignation will be on the desk by the end of the day, Mr Wayne.’

‘Very well.’

The man walked out the room while the others all came towards Y/N and welcomed her kindly. Lucius Fox patted her on the back and spoke gently, seeing her concern over O’Connor.

‘Don’t worry about Greg,’ Lucius assured her, ‘he’s no threat, all bark and no bite. He’ll just make a comment to the press and fade away. You think Wayne Enterprises is the first place he’s quit from?’

‘Thank you, Mr Fox.’

‘Call me Lucius, please, as you said, we’re family.’

[miskatonique]

MEGAN HALSEY CHEAT SHEET !

since my muses are not super well known in the contemporary rpc ( and i’m too lazy to do a full about page at this very moment ) i decided to put together little posts for them that give their general backgrounds, vibes, and plot possibilities !

this is a mix of canon and headcanon, and these are subject to change / adapt as i get more used to writing the characters

BACKGROUND:

Film: Re-Animator 1985

Megan Halsey, 24, is a non-degree seeking student at Miskatonic Medical School where her father is the Dean. Megan’s essentially been running the household since her mother ran off to join a humanitarian organization on the other side of the world when Megan was 13 or so. In some ways Megan is extremely mature, having to deal with her mother’s absence while also assuming the responsibilities expected of the “woman of the house” like cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc ( this is the misogynistic 80s after all )

Megan is extremely close to her father, however she lowkey defies him by dating the promising but absolutely broke medical student, Daniel Cain. Megan takes an immediate dislike to Dan’s new roommate, Herbert West, and repeatedly tries to convince Dan to cut ties with Herbert, to no avail.

Re-animation shenanigans happen and Megan is understandably distressed when her father is killed and re-animated, coming back wrong and barely recognizable as the man he used to be. Megan gives permission to Dr. Hill to perform exploratory surgery to figure out what’s wrong with her dad, but Hill actually lobotomizes Dean Halsey so that he can mind control him.

Dr. Hill has a creepy obsession with Megan and once he’s killed and re-animated by Herbert he acts on it, having the lobotomized Dean Halsey kidnap Megan for him. 

Dan and Herbert come to the rescue, but Megan is strangled by one of Hill’s other reanimated cadavers and dies. Dan uses some of Herbert’s reagent on Megan and though she has an initial reaction, screaming once the reagent is administered, Megan seems to stay dead. Dan, in shock, is taken away from Megan’s body and in the chaotic aftermath of the Miskatonic Massacre she’s assumed to be another casualty and is kept stored in one of the morgue freezers, which helps to slow down the circulation of the reagent and keep her in an essentially coma-like state.

That is until Dr. Graves from Pathology is doing Megan’s autopsy, pulls out her heart, and Megan springs back to life, knocking out Dr. Graves and stealing one of the vials of Herbert’s reagent and a spare lab coat and booking it the hell out of there. Her first instinct is to go to Dan but he and Herbert are already gone in Peru so she has to patch herself up and figure out what to do in a life where her friends are gone, her father is dead, and she’s thought to be dead as well.

To add even more problems, the reagent formula Meg has access to isn’t perfect -- she has to continually inject it to maintain her state of re-animation, and to make matters worse it isn’t unlimited, and the only people who know how to make it are god knows where...

VIBES / PERSONALITY:

Definitely big “woman who doesn’t get listened to in horror movies” vibes, here. She’s kind of bossy and knows what she likes, but a lot of the times when she tells you to do something it’s the right thing to do!! 

Keeps herself busy with work, school, extracurriculars, family, boyfriends, etc because she doesn’t really like to be alone with her thoughts. Has a lot of unresolved trauma dealing with her mother leaving and not having a stable maternal figure to look up to while growing up, as well as having to essentially shoulder the responsibilities of being a wife, mother, and daughter ( not wife in a creepy way just like in a way where she takes care of her dad like a spouse would in the 80s, dinner, laundry, scheduling, etc )

Has very high standards! Of herself and others! This means she’ll do anything in her power to help the people she loves reach those standards, but it also means she can be very quick to judge someone the first few times she meets them, and she’s prone to adhering to her first impression for a long time, especially if it’s negative.

Has a bit of a “stereotypical” fantasy of her future / what’s expected of her -- get married, have a nice house and 2.5 kids and take vacations in Martha’s Vineyard and die gracefully in her sleep when she’s 80. Any deviation from this fantasy can be really upsetting to her, and kind of feeds into how much of a control freak she can tend to be.

Post-reanimation Meg is very different and very similar to regular Meg! There’s still the urge towards trying to control a situation that’s wildly out of her hands but at least now she doesn’t really have to worry about keeping up appearances as the dean’s daughter, and all the baggage that comes with performative femininity and competency.

PLOT POSSIBILITIES:

Pre-movie stuff! Megan was super popular in high school and undergrad, please be her friend. She used to do horseback riding and play piano and probably did school plays and musicals and was at the top of her class in a bunch of subjects and was also probably a cheerleader, she’s got so many extracurriculars god

Be her friend during med school! Megan isn’t actually getting her doctorate, she’s just taking classes and acting as a “spy” for her dad and some of the professors, but she’d be more than happy to help fellow students

Post-movie stuff with re-animated Meg! She’s essentially like a more cognizant zombie, without the urge to eat people’s brains. She’s got no friends or family, no place to stay, she’s assumed to be dead -- perfect roommate material. She might try to co-opt you into helping her develop more of Herbert West’s reagent because it’s running out and she needs it to stay alive / awake unless another formula is made that keeps her animated forever!

Also give her a kiss. She deserves it. She deserves to explore lesbianism, too

[syndianites]

The After; The Athar: Chapter One

Chapter 1/?

Chapter 1 [Here] - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

AO3: This Chapter - Full Fic

Summary: Post Season 2, non-Mianitian Compliant. The crew finally land back into the world after the events of Ruxomar. That should be a good thing, right? But Wag is feeling the burden of everything that has happened to him, and he didn’t even get his magic back to boot.

It’s hard to be happy when life has been so shitty.

Relationships: Sparklington (end-game), Marthlington (temporarily), Sparkanite (Spark x Ianite) (past, mentioned), Motanite

Content Warnings: Death Mentions, Implied Depression, Implied PTSD, Self-Deprecation, Breaking up a Relationship (Marthlington)

AN: I’ve been working on this since September? of 2019! I have 5 chapters done and still going. I wanted to wait to post this until I was done with it, but my impatience has gotten the better of me.

@the-moon-pal I’m coming for your crown king >:)

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

They’d made it home a couple weeks ago, to the land of Mianite. It’d been such a relief. They got to meet the rest of the alts, got to watch Dianite meet the other gods- and cringe at the tension that crackled between them- got to find all their homes again. For once, in the past-however-long, there was peace. They could relax.

So why did Wag feel like utter shit?

Right. Because he literally got the worst part of the deal.

He thought his powers would come back when they got home. And they did, for a few hours. Not the full range, but a lot of it. It felt good to be full of magic again. It felt like he was himself.

But then things started to fall apart. Martha grew distant. His powers fell away in fits and bursts. He realized that the rest of FyreUK had moved on after they made amends in Ruxomar. They found their way on. Without him.

Nothing was the same, he realized, as he spent more time around the place they had called ‘home.’

Spark had done what he did best: built a city. Well, more like a village. What had once been a place of buildings thrown about at random and mostly open plains was now sparsely populated. Neatly arranged shops and a few houses took up the space next to the beach. New people had even begun to show up.

Everything was changing around him, yet he was stuck holding onto the past. Holding onto his wizardhood, to his brotherhood, to a partner that was farther now than ever, and- worst of all- he was still holding onto the hope that everything would just… go back. To how it was.

To when he was important.

Well, like fuck is he was going to sit around and loathe his existence. He could at least try to do something. Swear to Athar, he wasn’t going to turn into a lump of depression just because he couldn’t handle change! He’d rather be a walking mass of depression! That way he could at least pretend he was being productive.

Potions or spellbooks? A question as old as time. Potions were a staple in his life. If there was one thing that would never leave him, it was his ability to make fucking potions. Like, fucking make potions. Not potions to help people fuck. On the other hand, the more he poured through spellbooks, the more likely he was to get closer to finding out how to get his powers back.

Maybe his powers left when FyreUK left, taking all the glory of Athar with it. But that was too terrible of a thought, so that got chucked in the ‘not-today-bitch’ bin. Which was a handy dandy mental bin that stored all of his worst problems.

He never could fit himself in it, though.

So potions it was.

Now that he was out of the business of magic, most of his money came from his potion making. He had made yet another little wizard- alchemist? Potion master?- tower. Plopped some advertisements in el Pueblo de Spark and took orders to pass the time. He had to fund his botany experiments somehow.  Someone had to introduce weed into this world, that might as well be him.

If he was going down in history for something, that wasn’t ‘Word Renowned Wizard Extraordinaire’, then ‘The Guy who Made Weed’ would sure as hell work. 

Wag pulled up his log of orders. Luck, luck, dexterity, healing, luck, love- yeah, those didn’t really work but he’d make it anyways-, strength, luck, yadda, yadda, yadda. Lots of luck. He could probably get away with making a batch or two of luck potions, then work through the rest.

He spared a glance outside. Spark’s little hut-square town was beginning to develop into a pleasant little fishing hole. Surprisingly- or not, given how deep the waters were nearby- the place was actually a fairly hot place for single fish to mingle. Warm waters, nice and deep, lots of cover, and not much human interference. Until now, anyway.

Either the fishermen were starting to get a fair amount of revenue going or they really needed help. Luck potions were among his most expensive. The ingredients were hard to acquire regardless of how you made it.

Rabbit’s foot? Morally and physically hard to get a hold of. Rainbow trout? Terribly rare. ‘Star-light Fruit’? Not even confirmed to exist.

His method was a little more straightforward. A butt load of four-leaf clovers, a tiny bit of alcohol, and a fuckton of glitter. Clovers for the magic, glitter for the look, and alcohol for the feeling of being lucky.

It was a very bullshit potion.

It took forever to find the clovers, let alone collect them.

Athar give him strength.

Giving one last look outside, he tucked his log book in his cloak. Then he went and rummaged through his chests.

Monotony here he comes.

~~~

Wag was halfway through his second batch of luck potions when a distant knock came from his door, followed by the sound of bells. If not for the bells he’d have ignored the knocking. With a stretch, he putzed down the stairs. The many flights of stairs.

He missed being able to make elevators.

Opening the door revealed one Mr. Sparklez, hair tousled but otherwise neatly groomed. He was relaxed, if not a little winded from his trek up the hill Wag claimed as his own.

Wag smiled. “Hey Sparklez, what brings you up to my tower of terror today? Here for a chat or a swanky danky potion?”

He gestured for Jordan to head inside and get comfortable, but the man waved him off. “Actually,” Jordan started, “I was wondering if you’d seen Martha? I needed to ask her something and I haven’t seen her all day. Figured she’d be with you.”

Ah, so Jordan wanted to find Martha.

Ouch.

Doing his best to ignore the squeeze in his chest, Wag kept his smile firmly in place. “No, I don’t think I have. She, uh.” He paused, going for a nonchalant shrug. “She doesn’t come around the tower all that often. I’d ask Spark instead. She tends to hang around him more. Her good ole pops and all, y’know. They do have a lot to catch up on.” Wag tried to ignore how weak his words sounded. He didn’t want it to sound weird that Martha wouldn’t come around, but instead he just sounded pathetic.

Great.

Jordan gave Wag an awkward smile, seemingly uncomfortable with the sad display. “Ah, alright. I’ll ask around for Spark.” 

He turned to leave but caught himself before he was fully turned away. Jordan chewed on his words. “Are you-” His eyes swept over Wag. “How have you been? We don’t see you as much anymore. Other than Tom, I guess, but it's hard to get rid of Tom once he decides you’re friends, y’know?”

“I’ve been,” Wag wanted to laugh, but pushed through the sentence, “swell, thank you. I would get out more, but I’m always so busy potion making. Gotta pay the bills somehow.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. It wasn’t the exact truth, but he did spend a lot of time on potions.

Letting his shoulders settle, Jordan gave a small laugh. “Who would press a wizard to pay bills? Someone who wants to catch on fire, I’m sure.” He opted for a friendly smile. “If you ever want to hang out or something, let me know. I’ve been getting kind of bored between Spark telling me how to be a better champion of Ianite and living in an actual, peaceful society.”

Wag waved after Jordan as he began his descent. Yeah, a wizard. A frown tugged at his face while he shut the door.

A real fucking wizard.

~~~

Making potions was rather methodical. Each step took a certain amount of time, each item had certain effects, meshed certain ways with other items. It was like following a recipe, but with bigger consequences for messing up. Cooler results, though.

Wag had just finished melting down the clovers he’d gathered and extracting the essence- which is to say he lit it on fire after sprinkling a generous amount of blaze powder on it- when Jordan had stopped by. Which was convenient, since he needed to wait for the weird half-liquid half-slime to cool off enough to move it. The awkward potions, glitter, and alcohol were already prepped. Now all he needed to do was mix shit together.

Oh joy.

At the very least, it was satisfying to roll the clover essence into little balls to plop into an awkward potion and then watch them dissolve. The clover gave the essence a natural, healthy green color while the blaze powder, which clung to even the most thoroughly washed slime, gave it something of a yellow highlight. Golden glitter gets dumped in to make it feel like you were about to drink something special. Yes, the glitter was edible. No, most people didn’t realize he put glitter in this shit. Then the alcohol was for that background buzz. It was meant to dull the senses just enough to trick people into believing, wholeheartedly, in whatever god-forsaken abomination he just made.

Sorry. What ever divinely crafted, totally safe potion he’d just made.

Sure, he didn’t test it himself, but it seemed to work well enough for the people he gave it to. So where was the harm?

It was fine.

The next part was perhaps the most boring. And he’d spent all day yesterday crawling on the ground looking for four-leaf clovers.

Tagging and packaging. Writing names on slips of paper, tying them to the potion, putting it in a small, padded box to prevent any breaks. Rinse, repeat. It was annoying, wasted money, all that jazz, but it helped the look. Who wants to be handed a regular old potion, by hand, when you can get it in some majestic looking box to really add some sparkle to your magic?

Maybe Ruxomar rubbed off on him in a bad way.

In any case, the look was important, and by Athar was he going to make it look fucking fantastic.

Unfortunately, this task was also terribly, horribly monotonous. Worse yet, it left room for thinking. And thinking was Wag’s least favorite pastime since floating in the Void. Especially since floating in the Void.

It lead to him thinking deeply about himself and Athar knows that most of his life problems could be traced right back to that. His mistakes, his fuck ups, his shortcomings, all of it came back to him thinking way too hard about himself. 

Gross.

Instead, he tried to run over potion recipes in his mind. Or any recipe, really. All the different ways to make a fire resistance potion when you don’t have magma cream. Counting how many potions used lemongrass. Figuring out what potions would make it more likely to catch fish. Literally anything. As long as it was potions, it was fine.

Not about himself, not about Athar, not about wizards, and not about… Martha.

Yeah, that last one would be a one hit k-o. 

But now that his mind had touched on the subject, it dug in. Sunk it's claws into the delicate stability of his mind. Dramatic, he knows, but that’s how it felt. It was like the more he tried to get the thought out of his mind, the further it burrowed into him. Awful, painful, and not even worth the effort.

Martha… clearly didn’t care about him anymore. Or, well. He winced at the thought. She didn’t love him like she used to. If she, uh. Did in the first place. But this was old news. This was something he pondered after she seemed to avoid him like the plague, seemed to grimace when she looked over and saw him and not him.

Steve.

The name sat heavy in his head. They hadn’t meshed well, ‘specially where Martha was concerned. But they managed, for her, because they loved her.

Wag felt guilty, looking back on it now. For stealing their time together, for messing with their relationship. They hadn’t gotten to be together enough, had lost too much time before-

Yeah, he didn’t like thinking about Steve more than he didn’t like thinking about Martha. Wag didn’t feel like he deserved to think the name, let alone put himself up against his image. Steve was a hero. He rebelled against Helgrind in a cunning, intelligent way, he was selfless in more aspects than any of the heroes that appeared in Ruxomar, and he was the one to sacrifice the most. To sacrifice it all.

Where did Wag stand against that?

Honestly, it was no wonder Martha couldn’t stand to look at him. He was just a reminder of Steve, a reminder that she didn’t have Steve. That she had him instead. 

Had she ever loved him?

That wasn’t the point. The point was that Martha was hurting, trying to pick up the pieces of what she left behind in Ruxomar. What she had lost. And Wag wasn’t doing anything to help. He was stuck up in his tower, making potions, trying to forget about everything that he wasn’t.

He should try to look for her.

But the last time he did, he got turned away. She was “catching up with her father.” She was “busy settling into the new world.” She was “trying to get a grip on her new goddesshood.”

Wag was persistent, but even he could get the hint.

By Athar, he got the hint. “I don’t want to see you.” “Don’t come near me.” “You can’t help me.” 

He wondered if Spark was doing anything to help her or if he was also caught up in everything that had happened. From what he had learned about the man in Ruxomar, he was devoted to his wife. No, he gave everything for his wife. Learning she was dead after working up everything to see her again?

He had played it well. When he heard the news, Spark kept strong, only letting his tears show. If he had gone home later after parting with Martha, who had her own grief and guilt, crumbling on the inside no one would know. And if he had locked himself away and let everything loose, let himself break, none would be the wiser. But they could guess, they could give him a passing glance, a thoughtful frown.

Wag wondered if he still carried that grief around with him.

Spark had taken to trying to discipline Jordan to be a better champion of Ianite. It had made the man uncomfortable with getting told he could be a better follower and all. Or rather, having it implied that he wasn’t the best follower. Spark was stubborn in ‘training’ the champion of Ianite to be a full fledged follower.

Still, Jordan didn’t appreciate the sentiment.

Wag understood. Having the husband of the very goddess you watched die get on your case about being a better follower? When the crushing weight of guilt hadn’t fully let off your shoulders? He wondered if Spark hadn’t taken to coaching Jordan to make himself feel better, to remind himself that he would have kept Ianite safe, that he would have fixed the world before it broke out from under them.

It sounded like torture.

But it helped settle Wag. Call him selfish, but he felt better knowing other people had real problems, real grief, to deal with. Sure, Wag had his hang up with Martha. Yeah, he had his issues with being-a-wizard-yet-not. But he wasn’t as close to neck deep as Spark was. Like Martha was.

He wished belittling his problems made them feel less suffocating.

Martha. Martha was still pushing him away. And he was letting her. What did that say about him? About their relationship?

A sigh heaved out of his chest. It was like someone stuck a large rock right in his rib cage, tucked neatly between his lungs. Hard, heavy, and an all around burden. Potions. He needed to think about potions.

His hands betrayed him with a subtle shake. How many names did he have left to write? How many boxes did he have left to pack? Fuck if he knew. He had to keep counting, to find a way to wrap up all his issues, his panic, his fear, into a nice little package and tuck it away like a forgotten gift.

Athar help me, Wag tried to control his thoughts, I might drive myself insane by the end of the year.

As if on cue, another knock at his door broke his thoughts. He tried not to feel relieved to rush away from his potion packaging. He was fine, cool as a cucumber.

Throwing open the door, he came face to face with his second visitor of the day. Tom.

Tom was standing in front of his door almost uncertainly, like he wasn’t quite sure why or how he got there. He took one sweep over Wag’s unhidden face and a determined, focus look set in on his own.

“We,” Tom looped his arm around Wag’s in a sudden movement, “are going out somewhere. No if’s, and’s, or but’s.” 

Eyebrows shooting up, Wag let himself be dragged from his house with an aborted motion to close the door behind him. He mournfully watched his door stay ajar. Hopefully no one else ventured up the hill today, otherwise he might be down a few potions.

“Why?” Wag turned his attention back to Tom, who was resolute in his intention of pulling Wag away to Athar knows where.

A grin was shot in his direction. “You look like you need to get out of the house. Also, I’m real fuckin’ bored and you’re clearly in need of some company.”

A wry smile snuck on Wag’s face. “Oh lucky me. We should get some tea, live up to our trademark.”

Tom nodded. “Absolutely. Let’s hit town. Fuck it up. Flaunt our hero-ness and get shit faced.”

“Let’s not get shit faced, and especially not get kicked out of town for making a ruckus.” Wag fondly rolled his eyes. “I do quite like living here and it’d be a shame to have to follow you around to make sure you don’t die.”

Tom gave a mocked offended gasp, free hand coming up to his forehead as he leaned away. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’d never die if I didn’t live in a community. I’m a rogue, don’t you know.” He sniffed. “I can easily hold my own in the dangerous wilds.”

“Without anyone to pester and annoy?”

“I can pester anything!”

Wag bit his lip to stop a laugh. Tom always brought such energy with him. It was refreshing. Maybe he was right, he just needed some company.

He wouldn’t say that to his face, though.

“I suppose so,” Wag continued, “You are rather persistent. I bet you could annoy the sun into setting early.”

“Nah, I’d blow that fucker up instead.” Tom winked, snuggled back up to Wag, effectively trapping his arm. “I still think we should get shit faced. Drink our sorrows into the drain, throw them up another day.” 

Wag mock gagged. “I’d rather keep them down the drain, thank you. Besides, what a waste of alcohol. If I’m drinking, I’m drinking to keep it down. Not!” He quickly cut Tom off, “That I want to go out drinking.” He eyed the sky, giving a disapproving look to Tom when he saw that it was still early afternoon. “No one should be getting drunk before the sun touches the horizon.”

With a pout, Tom leaned into Wag’s side. “Lame. I suppose,” he drew out the word, “we could go get some good old fashioned tea. Call it a pre-game without the game.”

Wag rolled his eyes. He wasn’t looking to out game his issues. That wasn’t a solution. It’d just make him turn into a sad drunk and give him a headache in the morning.

This is why he needed weed back.

But also, he didn’t want to develop another problem. Gotta keep it clean. For now.

Tom still had his own plans, alcohol or no alcohol. “I find when I’m feeling down that doing something batshit stupid makes me feel better. We should go fishing with our bare hands- no, with only our teeth- and no shirt on. Attract ladies and gents to us alike. Are they looking at our finely chiseled chests or our daring courage? Who’s to say.”

“You are far from chiseled my friend. Try soft.” Wag poked Tom in the stomach jokingly. “And who said that I’m feeling down?”

“Hey!” Tom swatted his hand away. “I’ll have you know I’m more ripped than you’ll ever be!” He huffed, squeezing Wag’s arm. They walked in silence for a moment, now upon the town. After wandering the street for a second, Tom spoke again, quieter. “I had this feeling.” Wag eyes him. “It was weird. My gut was telling me to check in on you. And then when you opened the door it was written on your face. Even I’m not dumb enough to miss that.” 

Wag heard the unspoken I was worried carried in Tom’s words. Talk about soft. He squeezed Tom’s arm back. “Oh wow, a gut feeling?” He teased lightly, “I think it was just you missing my magical presence. It is hard to go too long without seeing me.” If only that were true. “But I’m here now, and we can go do something absolutely stupid, just for you.”

They share a smile, a quiet thank you floating between them.

Tom gets a glint in his eyes. “Does this mean we can go catch fish with our bare hands?”

“I suppose so.” Wag drawled. “How else are we going to show off our toned figures?”

That got him a laugh, one concerningly maniacal, and he was dragged between houses.

Yeah, he might regret this.

Tom turned and gave him a smile that was all teeth and no common sense. He paused next to the shore, a little ways off from the docks. Shucking his clothes, one Tom Syndicate stood proudly in his underwear, unconcerned about the effect of sunlight on zombified skin. People gave them a look of distaste.

Oh, he was definitely going to regret this. 

~~~

Soggy was one way to describe how Wag felt. Wet as shit was another. All in all, he was rather pleased with himself and the rather large, shiny fish sitting in his lap. The fish which so happened to be a fair amount larger than Tom’s.

“Oh fuck you.” Tom spluttered around a mouthful of fish, laying down an arm’s length away. He had gathered quite an amount of fish, a solid number for catching something with your mouth alone. None of them were that large. In fact, most were an average, if not slightly below, size.

Wag eyed the pile smugly. He may have only caught two, but damn if he didn’t go big.

“Well, it seems that I’ve caught myself a winner.” He tried not to look too pleased. The look on Tom’s face told him he failed.

Tom scoffed, letting the fish fall to the sandy floor with a wet fwop. “You got lucky! Clearly, quantity wins the game here. Sure, you caught one big, old, dumb motherfucker, but I caught a dozen other dumbass fish! I should get the win.”

“Wasn’t size the goal here?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do.”

Before Tom could fire back, a voice from behind interrupted him. “I think the two fools sitting in their underwear soaked to the bone are both losers.”

Wag tilted his head back to see Tucker standing with his hands in his pockets, back slouched, and an easy smile on his face, standing just where the sand turned to grass. Next to him was one lovely fox lady, Sonja herself, and one Sparkle butt, Jordan.

Nice to see the gang all here.

Tom sat up. “How dare you! I’ll have you know we are the best fishers on the island!”

Tucker raised a single eyebrow. “Really now? Are all the other fishers out at sea today?”

“Well excuse you, Mr. Boner. I’ll have you know we caught all of this,” Tom sweeps his arm across their score. “And I think that’s quite the haul.”

“How long did it take you?”

“Fuck you.”

Tucker snickered, moving closer to poke his foot into Tom’s side. “That’s what I thought.”

Wag, meanwhile, was carefully moving his prize to the side so he could stand up. Brushing the sand off himself, he exchanged a smile with Sonja and a nod with Jordan. Sonja gave him a good natured headshake. “And here I thought you were smarter than this.”

Jordan’s eyes trailed down Wag’s chest before flittering away. “Right down to your boxers? Tom must have gotten you good.”

“Well, I was fairly set on getting a nice cup of tea and walking across the beach, hand in hand like real lovers, but Tom was far more intent to go all macho and catch fish with his mouth alone.” Wag leaned in with a hand against his mouth to give a stage whisper. “Between you and me, I think he’s trying to step up his oral game.” He winked.

Jordan groaned, giving Wag what he thought to be a rather dramatic eye roll. That wasn’t even the worst he had to offer, and he’d given him such an easy setup! Sonja waggled her eyebrows and giggled when Tom butted in. “It’ll never be as good as yours dear.” He batted his eyelashes mock innocently.

The group burst into laughter. Tucker stepped closer, swinging an arm around his vaguely damp shoulders. “Hey, it’s nice to see you out and about man. It’s been a hot second. Almost thought you’d drank the wrong potion and kicked it or something.” 

Wag nodded seriously. “Quite the real possibility. Why, just yesterday I almost drank real glitter! The kind you’re not supposed to eat.”

“Been there,” Sonja added, “I thought I was going to die when I did. Just gave me a very colorful trip to the bathroom.”

Tom grinned as he moved to elbow Jordan in the side. “I bet our good ole Captain here wouldn’t know the difference. How else did he get his namesake, right Mr. Sparkley Butt?”

“Hardy har,” Jordan gave Tom a fondly disgusted look. “The name’s Captain Sparklez, that ‘namesake’ came from you giving me a stupid nickname.”

They fell into more chatter, giving Tom and Wag the time to put their clothes back on, Tom not caring that he was still wet as he put his suit back on, while Wag just slung his cloak over himself. No point in putting pants on over wet underwear.

The group, all now clothed to some extent, began to wander back towards town. Wag was more than content to listen to Tom ramble on. He would get interrupted by Tucker when he said something ‘incredibly stupid’ and, more rarely, by Jordan, who would correct some technical thing that Tom clearly did not give a shit about.

Sonja drifted next to him, giving Wag a conspiratorial smile. “You’re looking mighty fine in just a robe and boxers. Is this the bedroom Wag special? Or is that sans boxers?” 

“The bedroom Wag special is whatever you want it to be.” He winked. “It’s magic all around.”

They exchanged a laugh, falling silent again.

Wag knew that wasn’t what Sonja really wanted to talk about.

She looked back at him, a warm look in her eyes. “It’s nice. To see you out. Been a while, y’know?” Sonja stretched her arms out in front of her. “It really has been a bit since we’ve talked. And since you’ve left the house. But honestly?” Her tail swishes behind her. “I could have made a few more treks up that damn mountain myself.”

Shaking his head, Wag elbowed her side lightly. “It is a fairly tall hill, but I think mountain is a bit of an overstatement.” It was, in fact, a bitch of a climb, but Wag didn’t think it was that bad. He’d put the tower just on the other side of the Glowstone Forest, across from the Priest’s house. (What was it called again? Forest of the Void? Abyss Forest? Obsidian Trees? Yeah, he didn’t know or care). 

Left unsaid was a ‘That’s okay, you don’t have to go out of your way’.

He received an eye roll. “Please, the only trek worse than that is up to where Tucker’s first house was. I was so happy when we moved it down the mountain. Well, into.”

It’s no trouble, her words left hanging, I don’t mind.

Wag huffed. How dare she be considerate. “You know what’s worse than a trek up a mountain? A trek up a mountain to get some rare flower, only to be spited by the universe and have not a single flower growing up there. Honestly, I could use some help from someone so used to climbing mountains.” A smirk pulled at his face. “Or maybe just send someone up there for me.”

We could always hang out when I’m playing master botanist. If you’d like.

Sonja smiled at him, but couldn’t resist getting a dig in. “Aw, did you skip leg day? Have some chicken legs over there? That’s alright, I’m sure someone,” she tilts her head, eyes sweeping past the buildings around them, “would be willing. Get a nice little lackey so you can rest your old bones at home and complain about how the cold makes your joints stiff.” 

“How dare you,” Wag sniffed, hand held up to his heart. “I’ll have you know, my joints are just fine in the cold! Some of us just aren’t made of the cold, little miss fox.”

Sonja, ever so mature, stuck her tongue out at him.

They kept up some conversation, occasionally stopping to listen in to whatever Tom was saying. Wag, for a moment, realized that he had missed this. Missed them. That even though he wanted to avoid all the new things in this world, he’d always have his friends.

A quiet, hopeless voice asked if they’d leave him too.

~~~

There was nothing quite like hiking up a hill, in only your boxers, a little buzzed, during the night time. The pure amount of skeletons that had sniffed around looking for a cheap shot alone was bad enough, but the fact that his legs already hurt from struggling to fish with just his mouth without drowning? Yeah, it felt more like he was climbing up a mountain that was near vertical.

Fuck gravity.

A pit of warmth had settled in his chest a couple hours ago. Whether it was the alcohol that Tucker, of all people, had got the group into drinking or just the effect of being with friends for a while, Wag felt content. Not a common feeling in recent times. It was nice.

Really nice.

Upon reaching his door, his mind scrambled to figure out why it was left slightly open. He shrugged. As long as nothing was missing or stolen, he didn’t really care.

He made his way inside- making sure to actually close the door behind him- and wandered over to the stairs. Ah, his mortal enemy. Between being a wizard way back when and the magic rampant in Ruxomar, he had gotten way too used to avoiding stairs. Now it was a chore to move up and down the tower. But his bed was upstairs and he was not sleeping on the crappy couch he shoved into the lobby for guests or customers again.

So stairs it was.

By the time he got halfway up the stairs, he wanted to quit. Why, in Athar’s name, did he put his room on the third highest level? Stupidity, that’s why. The view was so not worth it.

When he actually made it up to the correct floor, he pushed the door to his room open, chucked his clothes to one side, and collapsed in bed. Now this, this was worth it. Soft, plush, warm, and very much without skeletons.

The less arrows being shot at him the better.

A soft chuckle caught his attention. Or rather, killed the peace he had wrapped around himself mere hours earlier.

He didn’t move. Not because he was scared. No, he knew who was in his room. He just wanted to pretend, for a moment, like this was something he was used to.

Like coming home to his lover being home wouldn’t surprise him.

The bed dipped beside him and his robed and boxer-ed glory. A hand ran through his hair. Wag tried not to tense.

“Seems like you had a good night out.” Her voice was like silk, soft and pleasant on his ears. “Hopefully they didn’t hassle you too much.”

Wag breathed. His chest was tight, emotion punching at his ribs. “Yeah,” he said, “It was nice to have some time with them again.”

All of this felt so forgein, now. To have her here. Was she here? Or did he drink more than he had originally thought. Shit.

Martha scratched his head. “I do have to say, I’m surprised that you actually left the tower. You’ve been holed up here for so long I thought I’d have to drag you out.” He could hear the smile in her voice. Or maybe he was imagining it. His head was a mess and he wasn’t quite sure what he was making up and what was real.

It was kind of pathetic.

He laughed. “Yeah, Tom showed up and dragged me out. Not complaining though, I had a lot of fun. It was nice to take off from work. Making potions gets boring.”

So did sitting in your own depressing thoughts, but that was more exhausting than boring.

“Oh,” Wag turned his head to face Martha, looking up at her. The darkness made her hair stand out. It looked like a halo around her face, bringing out her lovely lilac eyes. She was just as beautiful as the last time he’d seen her. But there was something heavy in her eyes that she tried to wipe away when his own reached her. “Jordan was looking for you earlier. Did he ever find you?”

Martha blinked and the heaviness was gone. Ish. He knew it was there. Somewhere.

“Ah, no.” She frowned. “I’ll have to see what he needs tomorrow.”

He nodded. To be honest, Wag wasn’t convinced Martha was actually sitting here with him. Which was kind of sad. Very sad.

“I can come with, if you’d like,” Wag rushed out, trying not to sound desperate. “We haven’t had much time together, which is understandable with your dad being around and all the stuff you need to do. And, y’know, it’d be nice to walk with you for a bit.”

Oh, he sounded so desperate.

Yikes.

A smile graced Martha’s lips. “Sure, I’d love that.” Wag let out a breath. “We’ll take a stroll, get a nice scenic view of the beach as we go, call it a date-” She cut off. The heaviness came back to her eyes. Wag knew what she was thinking. Who she was thinking about.

It hurt.

“I’m going to go take a shower before getting ready for bed. You can go ahead and sleep, if you’d like. I know you’ve had a long day and you’re probably tired. Don’t force yourself for me.” Martha stood as she said this, fingers trailing in his hair. Then she left.

Reluctantly, Wag got up to do just that. Changed his boxers and hung up his cloak. Buried himself back into bed, under the covers.

Yeah. It’d be a date.

~~~

Martha didn’t like to get up early. Neither did Wag. Normally, this lead to them sleepily cuddling until one felt so inspired as to get up. Normally.

Ever since the group returned to the land of Mianite, Martha didn’t sleep as well. Between nightmares, being a fledgling goddess, and the… absence of certain people, she found herself waking earlier and earlier.

Wag had his fair share of sleep troubles. Where sleep troubles stopped Martha from sleeping as much, it led to Wag sleeping more. The less he slept the more exhausted he was. The more exhausted he was the more he slept. It was a vicious cycle and actually the reason Wag didn’t leave the house as much.

Nonetheless, both found themselves getting ready to leave just after dawn. Martha moved like last night didn’t end awkward and uncomfortable. Bright, cheerful, and painfully affectionate with Wag. Like she hadn’t been avoiding him for the better part of their stay here.

The worst part was that this wasn’t the first time she came back like nothing was wrong. It was almost like she could tell when he was starting to doubt their relationship. Except, he was constantly doubting their relationship. Even when things had been going well. But this time, it was like she knew when he was thinking about how much of a relationship they didn’t have.

Which was concerning if she actually knew what he thought.

Wag, on the other hand, moved like a zombie. Tired, groggy, and barely awake. The picture of early morning beauty. It wasn’t far off from how he used to act, but now it was like someone had chained weights to his feet.

Damn, he was tired as shit.

Martha had set about making some breakfast from the little food he had. Some eggs, some- thankfully not spoiled- fruit, and milk. Wag was pretty sure he didn’t have milk, but he wasn’t going to question it. She was the more magical of the two, now, so it was within reason that she could get milk in the few minutes he’d lagged behind her in getting out of bed.

He, on the other hand, was on the task of making coffee. Coffee was something of a luxury here, since it was so new to the land. It wasn’t grown naturally on the island and Wag wasn’t sure if it was imported from some far off place or if it had been introduced by the earlier dimension hoppers that still hung around. Spark, for sure, seemed to run on the stuff.

That didn’t really matter to Wag, though. He had a plant of it in his garden, for ease of access, but more importantly to see if it could be used to help crossbreed weed into existence. No far off land had procured the plant yet, so he would still strive to be the maker of weed.

Not the best plan in the world, but that wouldn’t matter once he actually made the plant.

He really shouldn’t be encouraging substance abuse.

Surely, coffee would wake him up. Then he could go on a walk with Martha and do that thing they seemed to do where they avoided those topics and pretended like everything was fine. And maybe, just maybe, they’d enjoy the conversation. Maybe they’d feel something again, feel whole for the brief moment where they let themselves forget about the person who was missing, the person that clearly held more place in Martha’s heart for it to have torn so much when he-

Maybe Wag would get his shit together and let things die between them.

Maybe he’d decide that fighting an uphill battle wasn’t worth it.

For now, though, he was content to pretend things were the same. It was better than being entirely, wholly alone. And, deep in his heart, he still loved her. So, so much.

Enough that he knew it would hurt no matter what he did.

They chatted over the food Martha cooked. She complemented his coffee, the beans from the plant he owned, and he told her that the cooking is just as good as it’d always been.

Neither mentioned that it was usually Steve, not either of them, that did the cooking.

They tossed little affections at each other with ease. Like it was second nature. A brush of hands, a quick smile, a peck on the cheek. It was like a dance. As though they were trying to make a show of how much they still cared, how much nothing had changed despite the fact that everything had changed.

Hands loosely held together, they left the house as a unit, holding up a conversation with ease. If either of them tripped up in their speech as they avoided that topic or this word, neither called each other out for it. For all that everything was off and wrong, they made it work. They found a way to shove a cube into a round hole.

Whether it was because they wanted it to work so bad or because the hole was a giant chasm with space for miles was up to debate.

The beach was calm in the early morning. Fishers were stocking up their ships to start up on their daily trip, tightening a rope here, making space there. Few people walked about the town, the kids either asleep or getting hassled to eat breakfast. With so few people out, it felt like they were on the outskirts of life, just the two of them. Like viewing the world through a painting.

That illusion was helped by the sheer height of Jordan’s tree. It was still there, despite the damage it had received when Tom got to it. If he looked closely, Wag could see the remains of burn marks and grooves held in the thick bark. He had heard that, after the heroes had left, Ianite had nursed the tree back to life in honor of her lost champion.

He ignored the fact that Ianite had sent them into the void in the first place.

Wag himself had left before that, called on to help the heroes that he had watched over as a distant wizard. Even now, he wondered if it had been worth it. To lose everything because he was asked to. In his weakest moments, he wondered if it hadn’t been the gods’ way of throwing him out.

That thought hurt the most out of everything in his life and he never let it linger.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the base of the hill that Jordan’s tree- sorry, Jerry’s Tree- sat beside. They weren’t that close to getting inside yet, but it was a milestone.

As they climbed the hill, massive roots stretching out below them, Wag started up some conversation about the different species of trees. He never once mentioned apple trees. It was part of his botany, after all, and important to keep track of. The types of trees, not apple trees. Apple trees were just one of those topics and therefore something they made an unspoken agreement not to talk about.

He pondered, during his ramble, that Martha could have just flown up the tree. She could do that, after all. Wag couldn’t. Not anymore. The worst part was that he’d help build this tree, or, well, make it. Way back then. That was a sore spot to think about, but even still he was in awe of the tree. Not because of the fact that he's contributed to it- no, he had felt a sense of pride for that a long time ago. Rather, because of how it’d regrown.

Ianite’s gentle hand had turned it from merely a large, enchanting tree to a behemoth of divine wonder. Its branches had spread further, with more room between them and the tips reaching towards the heavens. The leaves had shaped up and gotten fuller, surely the size of a full-grown adult by now. Fireflies could be seen lazily hovering about clusters of leaves, giving the tree a pleasant, natural lighting.

Many more platforms and walkways had been built, new buildings having been added on top of that. They stretched from one end to the other. The most daring teased the edge of a branch, hung firmly along the length of it. The walkways were either long rope bridges made of braided vines that shimmered a faint purple or ramps made and reinforced by the same wood the tree was made of, the bottom featuring fancy swirls alongside the support beams.

Other vines, flora, and bushes lined the branches and platforms. Though they looked like they were leeching off the tree at first, a closer inspection- granted you were on the tree to get an inspection- showed they were delicately wrapped around the branches and sneakily planted in hidden pots for a more natural look. The flowers ranged from all sorts of purples- fitting. Buddleias enclosed doorways, Hyacinthus were wound along lanterns strung along pathways, and an abundance of Jacaranda could be found wherever space was made for flora.

The more he looked the more nature there was to see, the more connecting walkways there were strung along, the more everything there was. It felt like the whole world was home under the canopy.

The tree had gone from the house of a solitary man to a city of nature.

It didn’t feel like the same tree.

Wag pushed aside the nagging thought that it was better than anything he could have ever made. Ianite was a full fledged goddess, Wag was- had been- a mere wizard with the idea of godhood in his head. What he made had been incredible for mortal standards, and was still incredible for the standards he had held himself to. It would do no good to compare himself to Ianite, especially when all she had done was repair what was already there.

As they made their way up to the crest of the hill, following the path from the town to the tree as it curled around Jordan’s old home, Wag spared a glance at the birch and quartz house. It was simple, sleek and minimal. It suited Jordan. Of course, Jordan himself had made it, so why wouldn’t it?

Compared to Jerry’s Tree, though, it seemed rather dull and insignificant.

Actually.

Wag spared a closer look at the smaller home. It looked lived in. A frown pulled at his lips. Was someone living there? Who else, other than Jordan, would?

Martha had picked up the conversation now, adding in details about trees that she had seen in her travels long ago, ones he’d never have had the chance to see. There were many interesting species, some magical in the same sense as Silverwoods, some as plain as a simple oak tree, but all more than enough to satiate Wag’s desire to know more. His mind kept getting pulled back to the Casa de Sparklez, though.

A thought struck him, one he’d had just moments before.

Jerry’s Tree looked and felt so different, now that Ianite had tended to it. Like it was a different tree. Did Jordan think the same? Did it feel less like home, after being away for so long and having watched it burn?

Was Jordan living in his older house because the tree felt so forgein?

Martha was going on about a beautiful tree known for the lights its seeds shone, especially during the night hours. It really sounded like a sight to behold. More than that, the gentle, awed look on Martha’s face pulled at Wag’s heart.

Take care of her.

There was a sour taste in his mouth. Wag decided not to mention what he had just noticed. That was Jordan’s business, not his.

Martha was looking at him now, a small, shy smile on her lips. Wag felt like if he said the wrong thing it’d disappear in an instant. Like Martha was used to having her interests pushed aside, or used to pushing them aside herself when people didn’t seem to care about what she was saying.

Take care of her.

He offered a smile back, a genuine one. He really did love her. More than anything, he wanted to keep loving her. But something told him it wouldn’t work. That what they had had started to decay sometime around the end of Ruxomar, around when he left.

No, around when Martha almost became Mrs. a instead of a Ms.

Bitterness clutched at Wag’s heart. For all the love he held for her, he wondered, again and again, if she held the same. If she ever held the same, if she even held something close to the same.

Take care of her.

Looking up at Jerry’s Tree, Wag remembered what it used to be. He remembered watching it burn, the pain he had felt in seeing his hard work get tarnished, in seeing a friend’s home wither away.

Now, though, it was different. Not quite a home, anymore, but reborn. Alive. And maybe, in the future, it’d be a home again, or maybe not. Maybe it needed to burn for it to become what it was now. Jordan would have never built it up to this, but Ianite had.

Maybe that was the secret, Wag pondered. Maybe you had to let things burn to be able to build them up stronger.

He looked at Martha again, at the softness in her face and the hardness in her eyes. His heart pulled in so many directions. Love, anguish, love, despair, love, hurt, love love love.

Yeah, he was going to have to let this relationship burn.

[what-a-messsss]

1x10 rewatch

Ok, let’s get back to Walt Longmire: Disaster Boi of S1 and finish this season off with a...something.  Pleading look to the heavens, maybe?  

How do I keep forgetting that Lizzie is a thing, even after our decision to find her some nice Smitten Cowboy to be with?  Holy hell, but why are you still keeping your dead wife’s ashes in the kitchen?  At least you kept Lucian in your fucking truck.  In a coffee can.  What is with you and breakfast beverages??  We all know you need lots of therapy, but this seems like a kind of niche issue.

“Trust me, you don’t, uh, you don’t want that tea.”  Buddy.  

Poor Lizzie.  She really is so nice.  And he’s such a fucking disaster.  “You seem weird,” she says, in reaction to him going bug eyed from having to convince her not to drink his dead wife without her realizing that’s what he was doing.  Sweetie, you have no idea.  And she really does like him.  

This is.  So.  Gloriously awkward.  And Lizzie’s there in her bare feet.  And all we need is for Branch to show up and we’ll have a full house, and aaaaahahaha, Walt is so trying to freeze time with the power of his brain.  Staring off into the Not Here place with his mouth pressed just so...  Awwwww, suffer.

I had forgotten that Ferg was the one who actually did the body work on the Bronco!  Even did the paint work, because that old truck has never looked so good.  I know Omar loaned Walt his truck while the Bronco was “in the shop,” but I like that the writers gave Ferg the skills to do that.

“If anybody... has something they want to say, I suggest you think twice about it.”  We don’t need to say anything; we’re too busy laughing at you.

Oof, and then Lizzie hearing Martha’s voice still on the message greeting.  She’s really quite a good actress.  Lizzie isn’t a terribly subtle character generally, but she gives her these really fine microexpressions that give you occasional glimpses that there is more going on under the surface, and she’s not just an open book.  : (  Making me actually like her and feel bad, not just cringe when she comes on.  Dang iiiiiiiit.

Ok, that does NOT look like Sharpie.  I’m sorry, but that looks like a paint pen or lipstick more than it looks like a Shapie on the dead kid’s forehead.  Even if it were one of the jumbo Sharpies, they don’t write like that, they aren’t that colour on skin, and the thickness of the lines are all off.  Which is not really relevant, but it buuuuugs meeeee.  Pedantic little shit that I am.

Ope, Branch is basically past the angst about Walt not liking him and straight into just giving him nothing but attitude.  Which, while I can hardly blame anyone for giving Walt shit, does get old pretty fast.

Walt, you are So Bad at talking to people, even when it’s for the damn job!  Yeah, it’s fine to have Ferg fill Vic in, but at least acknowledge that she’s there, damn.  Honestly it would have been good for both Vic and Ferg for Walt to tell her to follow Ferg’s lead on this one.  He knows the case, the local history, the players, the situation, and probably more about archery than her, and she could stand to take the reminder that working 5 years in big city homicide still doesn’t make her the senior deputy and that she needs to be ok learning from even Ferg.  Shit, I keep finding more and more reasons to be annoyed at Walt.  Is he even really that good of a sheriff?  I’m shaking the ol’ Magic 8 Ball here, and signs point to frickin’ NO.  Ugh.

Five HUNDRED dollars says that he didn’t check with Mathias before going on the Rez for official police business again.  Jackass.

Can’t really blame Viho for being super bitter.  And Ayasha is so sweet.  This whole family dynamic is so well done.

Aw, Ferg is so excited about the gum wrapper.  “Still minty!”  How are you such a sparklebunny?  Bless.

Detective Falessssss.  His opening line is so great, but uuuuuuuhg, he’s as bad as Walt with his singlemindedness about the case.  

“Talk to Ruby.  She runs my life.”  She runs the department, bucko, and you’d be lost without her!  Lost, I say!  But you treat her like your personal social secretary, and that’s crap.

In Fales’ dubious defense, you were just super weird about that whole encounter.  

Omar!  You creepy little lecherous jackass.  Why am I still fond of you?  It’s really rather galling that I enjoy your character at all, but I doooo.  Thank gods he has the beard now; cleanshaven was just wigging me out.  “Vickie’s never shot before--”  “That is the second-to-last time you will ever call me that.”  And I chortle myself to distraction to the point that I have to rewind to catch the lines that I missed.  With her horrible plans when she gets drunk (I’m still cringing at that flashback of her with Travis) and her obvious thing for older men, I’m honestly kind of surprised she didn’t end up having a deeply regretted something with Omar at some point.  They do have good chemistry in an antagonistic way.  And he does so enjoy tugging her pigtails.  ...ew.  Why is my brain like this?  

“A little bit of practice, even a girl can make that shot.”  Aaaaaaand we’re back to kick him in the nuts.  Not that we ever really left there.  Such a butthead.

Boy oh boy, it sure is great the tone that all these shitty rich white people take saying “Indian.”

“That is what a normal person would do in your situation.”  Henryyyyyy, I love you so much.  Why can’t we spend more time with him in the early seasons?  Why are you drinking a Rainier?  Nooooo, please have better taste in beer than your boyfriend!  You have expensive tastes in bourbon, why can’t you have decent taste in beeeer?

Walt, what is the point of practicing darts when you are FIVE FEET from the board?  Seriously, you’re supposed to be like...  (a google later)  7 feet 9.25 inches away!  That’s...  That’s an oddly specific measurement.  Wtf.  No quickly apparent reason for that specific measure.  Resisting the pull of this particular rabbit hole to continue the ep.  

Aaaah, that’s right, this is still when Walt thinks that Henry may have killed the guy for him.  And BestDad Henry talked to Cady after the blow up about Branch, and he is a wonderful human being.  “It’s really none of your concern.”  Hoooooow dare you.  It is clearly a function of being bffs with that butthead that Henry just smiles (somewhat bitterly) at this instead of tripping him into the bar or shoving his head into the cigarette machine.  (Is that a cigarette machine?  Wtf is that thing with the yellow lit up portion towards the top? [14:05])  

“What a rich inner life you must lead.  From time to time, you should consider sharing some of it with the rest of us.”  The sass!  Swoon.  Henry.  Marry me.  

“I’ve got other problems.”  Buddy, you are other problems.

I wonder how many people/places Ruby just has on speed dial so that she can zoom through her list of “Where the hell is Walt now” to get in touch with him.

Aaaaand we’re back to Branch getting a bit big for his britches.  Whee.  Better fight about it like Big Boys.  Ffs.  “Go ahead.  Give me your best shot.”  ::Pat Benatar starts playing in the background::  Oh holy shit, I wish so damn much that I had any know-how about making vids.  I would be beyond amused by a spoofy hate vid of Walt and Branch being assholes to “Hit Me With Your Best Shot.”  Ooo, oo, or “Hit Me Baby One More Time!”  Aaaahahaha, these fucking losers and their fragile masculinity.  Get rekt.

Children.  Childreeeeen.  Stop it, or you can’t go to Timmy’s birthday party next week.

The irony of Vic being the one who is actually calling them on their shit and getting to do their damn jobs.  Well shit, they actually have a warrant this time.  Will wonders never cease.

Damn, Viho is smart.  Politically savy, pointing out the election coming up.  He’s got the wrong end of the stick this time, but the fact that he’s seen these angles and considered a bunch of things about the consequences already is telling about how smart he is.

Ruby is so pleased to see Henry.  She sounds tired (dealing with Walt and Branch and the sheer volume of bs that is accumulating in that office, no wonder) but still fond.  And the look she gives him.  I love her so much.  She puts up with so much.  And I love Henry continually calling Walt and the department on their shit and just being a dedicated activist for his community.

Fuck right off, Branch.  “Woah.  I know you’re Walt’s friend, Henry, but you don’t have any particular rights here.”  You are sliding into being a full on trashbag of a human being so fast, Brancheroo.  Reminding a young man of his rights and helping him avoid getting railroaded by your biased ass isn’t a bad thing, you rusty wingnut.

Ok, it might not be Glasses!Henry, but cowboy boots!Henry with the glow of righteousness upon him is also quite A Look.

Aaaaahahaha, for once Vic’s unholy yelling saves the day.  Being able to shout over a mass of raucous teens is usually reserved for teachers, camp counselors, and stage managers.  Looool and using detention as the threat.  And then jail.  Heeeh.

This is soooo weeeeeird: I’m starting to genuinely like Lizzie.  She just showed up and I remembered that it’s for dropping off that present, and then Vic is such a butt about it, and this poor lady is just trying to date a guy that she really likes and even gave him about 5 different outs that morning and he pointedly didn’t take any of them and dammit, Lizzie deserves better, too.  Fuck, Walt, you are such a disaster zone.  And Vic is a whole other disaster area that’s looking to, uhhhh, share a border.  Yike.

The present is definitely more Lizzie than it is Walt, with the wrapping and everything, but it’s still a sweet impulse.  AND THEN VIC, who told Walt how many times that he should call her?? gets all up in her business?  Poor Lizzie trying to figure out what the fuck this has to do with Vic or how it is even on the same planet as any of her business.  She does have some issues from her previous marriage, but she owns them.  And her BS meter is actually pretty finely tuned.  Sure picks up on Vic’s awkward boner for Walt in no time flat.  Not that it’s particularly well hidden, damn.

This kid is a rapist and a murderer and The Bad Guy, but at the same time, he is a high school kid, chances are he’s a minor, and Walt is talking to him alone in his office without any parent, much less a lawyer.  What the fuck.  

“Because Ayasha Roundstone told me so,” is a good line, solidly so.  And Walt’s all in The Righteous Hand of Justice mode or whatever, with the gravelly voice and standing over the kid, staring him down.  Effective.  (But where are that kid’s parents?)  Ah, that’s right, his dad is taking a shot at whatshisnoodle to make it look like he’s the killer.

Awww, Cady.  Honey, how long have you been waiting for you FailDad to show up?  Fuck.  Right.  This was how she found out that Martha was murdered.  He lies to her so much.  He manipulates her so much.  He passes all of this off on it being Martha’s wish, but he even acknowledges that Cady had a right to know and he chose not to tell her.  He denies Cady her own agency again and again.  He makes decisions for her without ever giving her a chance to choose for herself, and punishes her when she makes a choice that he doesn’t agree with.

It’s not “protecting” her from the pain.  “Protecting you from the pain,” is not a father’s job; it’s to teach their child how to manage it, help them live through it, and how to grow past it.  You’re damaging her.  Into the suuuuuuun, Walt!  Into the fucking SUN.

But fuuuuuuuuuuuck, her delivery of that same line, “Well, let me relieve you of that burden,” is sooo good.  You done fucked up, buster.  And you just keep fucking up.  I would say in new and exciting ways, but it’s generally in the SAME DAMN WAYS, dammit Walt.

This flashback is really difficult.  

They’re right about that technically being kidnapping, too.  Wyoming  § 6-2-201 specifically includes defining kidnapping as unlawfully confining another person, with the intent to “facilitate the commission of a felony; or Inflict bodily injury on or to terrorize the victim or another,” with unlawful confinement defined as “accomplished (i)  By force, threat or deception; or (ii)  Without the consent of a parent, guardian or other person responsible for the general supervision of an individual who is under the age of fourteen (14) or who is adjudicated incompetent.”  Meaning that not only could Walt charge Jake with the kidnapping of Rich, but also probably of Ayasha, since she was ruled an unreliable witness and would more than likely be legally considered a “mentally incompetent person” according to the states’ legal definitions.  

Not... that I have the Wyoming State Criminal Code downloaded on my computer.  >_> Certainly haven’t skimmed about 80% of it trying to figure out what charges would most make sense to be levied against Jacob at the end so that I don’t have to deal with him going in to a Federal prison on RICO charges.  <_<  Or what Cady probably should have been charged with after that mess with Tate and Catori.  Nnnnnnope.  Sure don’t, didn’t, haven’t. o_o

This is about the only time I can remember there being a legitimate reason for Walt not to have backup.  Since they’re off checking other locations.  Also, damn, that was some classic Old West quickdraw shit, Walt!  Noice!

“Why did you stop me?”  Because you have to testify, you little shit.  HE is not terribly bright.

Ooooooo, somehow I forgot that it was Branch who went to Jacob.  But that makes total sense; I can’t really see Jacob seeking Branch out, but once he walks himself into his office, Jacob will certainly play those new cards for all they’re worth.  Ooooooooo, and the Hotamétaneo’o headdress!  I’d forgotten about Branch seeing it, too!  Nice call back and foreshadowing to finish off S1!

“You will not find a chili cheeseburger of this caliber anywhere in Colorado.”  And now it’s 4:30 in the morning and I want a chili cheeseburger.  Thanks, babe.   Some daaaaaay, I will figure out which is my favourite Henry, but it is not this day, because godsdaaaaamn, the red checked shirt with that vessssst, is *chef kiss* a wonderful thing.   And the director knoooooows it = that pan down Henry’s back as he turns after saying, “I said nothing,” for noooo reason other than to have Henry’s ass on screen.  Seriously.  He says his line, it pans down, we get a primo shot of his jeans, and then it cuts away.  Solely a pan for Henry Butt.  Who directed this, and where do I send the fruit basket?  Dang, it was Nelson McCormick, and this was the only ep of Longmire he directed.  Huh.  In S1, there’s only one repeat director, who did eps 1, 3, and 7.  Interesting.

Focus, kid.  You are less than 3 minutes from the end and you’ve had it paused for over 5 minutes to wander around IMDb.  No wonder it takes you three flipping hours to watch one of these episodes.  What a mess, indeed.

“We all process grief in our own way.”  Buddy.  You have not processed.  You are a human <BUFFERING> screen.  You’re a walking loading symbol.  Walt, he gives you some basic vital statistics on the guy, but...  You haven’t even asked who it was.  Walt, you are so bad at this.  Fffffffff---  And there’s season 1.  lawd.

[hamanuelton]

my favorite parts of hamilton:

- “I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory.”

- every time Leslie Odom Jr. as aaron burr begins another part with “how did a bastard, orphan-“ or like in that same way ‘cause he doesn’t always start it that way but you know what I mean

- the way Leslie Odom Jr. as My Boi Burr™️ says “well, the world got around, they said, ‘this kid is insane, man!’”

- also when Leslie Odom Jr. as A. Burr says

“WHAT’S YOUR NAME, MAN?!”

- “our man saw his future drip-dripping down the drain, a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain”

- “Alexander Hamilton. My name is Alexander Hamilton. And there’s a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait, just you wait...”

- background “just you wait, just you wait”’s as hammy’s putting on a new jacket and ensemble is praising nyc

- “and me? i’m the damn fool that shot him.”

- “Burr, sir” + the continuation of this all throughout

- “If you talk you’re gonna get shot” / FORESHADOWING WOOOEEEEWOOOOO

- “i’m John Laurens in the place to be”

- Lafayette’s fuckinf accent

- “BRRRAH! BRRAAAH! HERCULES MULLIGAN UP IN IT LOVIN IT”

- “if you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for”

- “‘Onarchy?”

- hey, yo, i’m just like my country, i’m young, scrappy, and hungry—

- the way Odom Leslie Jr. as The Hamburrglar™️ says ‘shot’ and they all take a shot

- this ⤵️

- Hammy getting //flustered// about friendship

- WHEN ARE THESE COLONIES GONNA RISE UP

- Angelica’s face when Burr is tryna tell her bout herself and she shows him up and ships him out

- Act 1: 6. Farmer Refuted

- honorable mention: “my dog speaks more eloquently than thee!" "but strangely, your mange is the same." "is he in jersey?”

- King George pouting

- Jonathan Groff’s overarticulation of each syllable as King George is a work of art

- “♪ Da-da-da-dat-da-dat-da-da-da-dai-ah-da! ♪ Da-da-da-da-dai-ah-da! ♪

- “Everybody! —“

- “We keep meeting.”

- “i imagine death so much it feels more like a memory. when’s it gonna get me? in my sleep? seven feet ahead of me?”

- “See, I never thought I’d live past twenty.”

- “this is not a moment, it’s the movement”

- “I’m laughin’ in the face of casualties and sorrow, for the first time, I’m thinkin’ past tomorrow!”

- “dying is easy, young man, living is harder!”

- “i’m being honest. i’m working with a third of what our Congress promised.”

- “you need all the help you can get. i have some friends. Laurens, Mulligan, Marquis de Lafayette, okay, what else?” — “we’ll need some spies on the inside, some king’s men who might let some things slide.”

- “watch this obnoxious, arrogant, loudmouth bother be seated at the right hand of the father.”

- “Martha Washington named her feral tomcat after him” — “That’s true.”

- “Yo, if your marry a sister, you’re rich, son!” — “Is it a question of ‘if’, Burr, or which one?” and then the little ‘hey’ ‘hey’ thing they do gets me every time

- literally the use of yo throughout the production fucking gets me every single fucking time

- “i’m writin’ a letter nightly. now my life gets better, every letter that you write me. — THE PURE UNBRIDLED SENSE OF FORESHADOWING IN “laughin’ at my sister, cuz she wants to form a harem” — ft. “i’m just sayin’, if you really loved me, you would share him!”

- the irony in “Eliza, i don’t have a dollar to my name”, you’ll be on the $10 bill, my man

- top-notch brain

- Angelica TRIED TO TAKE A BITE OF ME

- the way Anthony Ramos as John Laurens says “alright, alright. that’s what i’m talkin’ about!” and also the face that he makes

- hunger-pang frame

- “You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied.” — “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself.” — “You’re like me. I’m never satisfied.” — “Is that right?” — “I have never been satisfied.” — “My name is Angelica Schuyler.” — “Alexander Hamilton.” — “Where’s your fam’ly from?” — “Unimportant. There’s a million things I haven’t done but just you wait, just you wait...”

- tbh the way ‘Schuyler’ is spelled is oddly satisfying to me

- honestly just the way LMM says Alexander Hamilton+/ my name is Alexander Hamilton, and there’s a million things i haven’t done, ‘just you wait, just you wait...’ throughout the production

- “i’m the oldest and the wittiest and the gossip in new york city is insidious”

- “You are the worst, Burr.”

- Act 1: 12. The Story of Tonight (Reprise)

- “love doesn’t discriminate, between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes”

- “love doesn’t discriminate, between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes and we keep living anyway. we rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes. and if there’s a reason i’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died—“

- “Chick-a-plao!”

- the way they say ‘raise a glass’ is both elegant and (appropriately) reverent

- “i go back to new york and my apprenticeship” — i shouted MY BOI HERCULES MULLIGAN UP IN IT LOVIN IT DID NOT JUST SAY THAT, IF HE ACTUALLY LEFT AND ISN’T JUST UNDERCOVER OR SOME SHIT IMMA WRITE LIN-MANUEL MIRANDA A STRONGLY WORDED LETTER

- the minute General Charles Les came into the picture i hated him so hard, even though his literal first word was ‘Whee!!!!’, though i can appreciate the sentiment and what LMM was tryna do there

- “Washington cannot be left to his devices indescisive, from crisis to crisis” — sweet baby jesus that alliteration, and jon rua totally pulled it off (i hate General Charles Lee not the person who played him, i can also appreciate the fact that as an actor it takes a lot of talent to be able to make you hate a character so easily, also shoutout to Jonathan Groff as King Georgey-Boy™️, Sydney James Harcourt as james reynolds, and the general way LMM somehow made me fed up/turn on Alexander with the whole scene with him and Maria Reynolds — and not only that but somehow redeemed himself to me which is easier said than done for characters and people alike.. i’ve been hurt too much to play like that.

- Act 1: 15. Ten Duel Commandments

- honorable mention: “if you don’t reach peace, that’s alright. time to get some pistols and a doctor on site. you pay him in advance, you treat him with civility. you have him turn around so he can have deniability.”

- Act 1: 17. That Would Be Enough

- honorable mention: the melody that LMM went with for that turn of phraseis a truly beautiful thing

- “Immigrants:” — “We get the job done.”

- THE FACT THAT MY MAIN MAN HERCULE MULLIGAN WAS ON THE INSIDE NOT ONLY DID I CALL IT BUT DAMN HE REALLY GOT THAT GOOD HOT TRIBUTE HE DESERVED

- “To my brother’s a revolutionary covenant! I’m runnin’ with the sons of liberty and I am lovin’ it! See, that’s what happens when you up against the ruffians. We’re in the shit now, somebody gotta shovel it! Hercules Mulligan, I need no introduction, when you knock me down I get the fuck back up again!”

- Act 1: 21. What Comes Next

- honorable mention: “i’m so blue” — the little squat that Groffsauce does as the light turns blue really got to me

- Act 1: 22. Dear Theodosia

- Leslie Odom Jr.’s voice is so ding dang delightfully airy

- honorable mention: “You have my eyes. You have your mother’s name. When you came into the world, you cried and it broke my heart.”

- Act 1: 23. Non-Stop

- as someone with siblings i can appreciate that they’re bickering like that’s just what they are

- “I was chosen for the constitutional convention! *squeal*”

- “Burr, we studied and we fought and we killed for the notion of a nation we now get to build. For once in your life, take a stand with pride. I don’t understand how you stand to the side.”

- Act 2: 1. What’d I Miss?

- honorable mention: “But the sun comes up and the world still spins.”

- Act 2: 2. Cabinet Battle #1

- honorable mention: “DOIN’ WHATEVER THE HELL IT IS YOU DO IN MONTICELLO!”

- tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

- “Daddy, daddy, look.... My name is Philip. I am a poet. I wrote this poem just to show it. And I just turned nine. You can write rhymes but you can’t write mine.” - “What!” - “I practice French and play piano with my mother.” — “Uh-huh!” — “I have a sister but I want a little brother.” — “Okay!” — “My daddy’s trying to start America’s bank. Un deux trois quatre cinq!” — “Bravo!” — “Hey, our kid is pretty great.”

- as much as i hate Act 2: 4. Say No To This (because for some reason i though Alexander Hamilton was better than that) Jasmine Cephas Jones sings in it is like a hot knife through butter — namely; “My husband’s doin’ me wrong beatin’ me, cheatin’ me, mistreatin’ me...”... I guess maybe I understand it ‘cause damn Jasmine Cephas Jones is so ding dang pretty and ding dang talented and wow what a remarkable person

- the way that Lin says “And her body’s saying, ‘hell, yes’ is um.. 😓

- “You see, that was my wife you decided to” — “Fuuuu—“

- Act 2: 5. The Room Where It Happens

- honorable mention: “Bros.”

- “Talk less. Smile more.” LMM being a dramatic bastard

- Act 2: 6. Schuyler Defeated

- Act 2: 7. Cabinet Battle #2

- “revolution is messy but now is the time to stand."

- honorable mention: “Ooh!!”

- “We signed a treaty with a King whose head is now in a basket. Would you like to take it out and ask it? ‘Should we honor our treaty, King Louis’ head?’ ‘Uh... do whatever you want, I’m super dead.’”

- Thomas Jefferson all like “but sir do we not fight for freedom” MY BAD SIR YOU ARE A SLAVE-OWNER HOW ABOUT YOU NOT

- mentioning Lafayette because apparently LMM has no problem with breaking the fourth wall

- “Daddy’s calling.”

- “I’m in the cabinet. I am complicit in watching him grabbin’ at power and kiss it. If Washington isn’t gon’ listen to disciplined dissidents, this is the difference. This kid is out!”

- “Southern motherfuckin’ Democratic-Republicans!”

- “The emperor has no clothes.”

- “Sir, I don’t know what you heard but whatever it is Jefferson started it.” — “Thomas Jefferson resigned this morning.” — “You’re kidding.” — “I need a favor.” — “Whatever you say, sir, Jefferson will pay for his behavior.” — “I’ll use the press. I’ll write under a pseudonym, you’ll see what I can do to him—“ — “Yes! He resigned you can finally speak your mind!” — “Ha. Good luck defeating you, sir.” - “I’m sorry, what?”

- Act 2: 10. I Know Him

- “—Vice President.” — “— No more Mr. Nice President.”

- “Sit down, John, you fat motherf—“

- Act 2: 12. We Know

- honorable mention: “You see that was my wife you decided to—“ — “WHAT—“

- Act 2: 13. Hurricane

- Act 2: 14. The Reynolds Pamphlet

- honorable mention: *DEEP VOICE* “DAMN”

- Act 2: 15. Burn

- i’ll be the first to say i wasn’t a huge fan of Eliza at first aside from Phillipa Soo’s killer voice

- this gave me a lot of respect for her

- honorable mention: “You have married an Icarus. He has flown too close to the sun.”

- Act 2: 16. Blow Us All Away

- i would like to point out that tweet where someone @‘s LMM about not mentioning Philip’s hot and he responds “I’M FAIRLY F**CKING SURE I DID”, y’know ⤵️

- “The ladies say my brain’s not where the resemblance stops.”

- “God, you’re a fox.”

- Act 2: 17. Stay Alive (Reprise)

- The ‘I know, I know. Shh.’ and the full circle back to his mom teaching him french on the piano really got to me for the beautiful artistry in it but also damn them feels

- Act 2: 18. It’s Quiet Uptown

- “I spend hours in the garden. I walk alone to the store and it’s quiet uptown. I never liked the quiet before. I take the children to church on Sunday, a sign of the cross at the door, and I pray. That never used to happen before.”

- “Philip, you would like it uptown. It’s quiet uptown.”

- “You knock me out, I fall apart.”

- “Eliza, do you like it uptown? It’s quiet uptown.”

- “There are moments that the words don’t reach. There is suffering too terrible to name. You hold your child as tight as you can and push away the unimaginable. The moments when you’re in so deep it feels easier to just swim down.”

- “There are moments that the words don’t reach. There is a grace too powerful to name. We push away what we can never understand. We push away the unimaginable.”

- “Can you imagine?”

- Act 2: 19. The Election of 1800

- honorable mention: “And they say I’m a Francophile: at least they know I know where France is!”

- “You used to work on the same staff” — “Whaaaat.”

- “Honestly, it’s kind of draining.” — “Burr...” — “Sir!” — “Is there anything you wouldn’t do?” — “No. I’m chasing what I want. And you know what?” — “What?” — “I learned that from you.” / this moment made the blow that he voted for Jefferson like a damn hole in my chest and i actually really felt for Burr. i get Hammy’s reluctance, i think if anything he was hoping voting for Jefferson would give Burr the chance to have experience as VP and then the next election he might vote for him then depending

- Act 2: 20. Your Obedient Servant

- A. Burr

- A. Ham

- “I just need to write something down.” / really resonated as one of the last things they showed him doing before going off to the duel, his life really was writing and that was the perfect way to say that in a very subtle sort of way. i really appreciate it artistically, whether it was intentionally so or not.

- Act 2: 22. The World Was Wide Enough

- okay but first of all i would like to comment on the fact that Ariana DeBose PLAYS THE GODDAMN BULLET, I JUST

- THE FACT THAT THE BULLET HAS A PART

- “This man will not make an orphan of my daughter.” / this made me really sympathize with Burr, as well as when he tries to go towards Hamilton (at least in the play but I sincerely hope that was historically accurate) / but also that fact that Theodosia Burr was lost at sea at 29 makes me sad because Hamilton’s life was taken to give her one and then she just up and disappears in a freak accident

- Act 2: 23. Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

- the orphanage got to me

- i loved that he (LMM) didn’t end it with himself or anything

- he let Phillipa Soo tear my heart out

- it killed me but i died quite happily

- and really what more could you ask for.

[mcrvictoria]

God (the play)

Written by L.A. Glanvill Copyright 2018 (rev.)

Characters: A mottle group that went to grade school together till the end of High school. Even though they have different personalities, they maintain a close relationship even in there late twenties. Bringing New couples into the mix and dealing with the off-putting scenarios the characters create. 

God: Stereotypical character, white toga Style robe. Seems innocent almost naive. Seems to have an Identity crisis. Definite wisdom but seems simple when dealing with tough situation. Playful and whimsical as well. 

Phil: Late twenties, anal and looks for people's approval even though he's successful at his job. Seems a bit needy with a touch of sarcasm that is retracted when he goes to far. Can be self-defeating and can be a bit of a whiner. 

Martha: Wise but quietly wanting everyone to be happy. A people-pleaser, her main goal is to become the perfect host. Dedicated to Phil. Knows things others don't seem to know but can be so blind at times and a bit of a snob. She seems to miss the small things. 

Tom: Very religious, devout, a little dumb. Easily influenced by Jen. Very scattered and reactionary. Illogical. Blind to all around him. Controlled by base emotions and short tempered. 

Jen: Tom's Girlfriend. Not smart but thinks she is. Really argumentative. Emotional and reactive. Very aggressive. Uses sex as a weapon with Tom. Massively manipulative. 

Tammy: The most unlucky person ever. If anything can go wrong, it will. She falls a lot, always hurt, outer circle even affected. Can be sad and meek at times. But still seems to carry a smile even if fake. Has an expecting nature about her and stoic. 

Dr. Segal: Arrogant, controlling, big ego. Is a Player and condescending. Very shallow and materialistic. Male chauvinistic personality. Objectives women. Really believes he's better than others. 

Corina: Very shallow, gold digger, materialistic. Only wears and top brands but never pays for anything. Has multiple boyfriends. Dr. Segal being one of them. Using her looks for gains. Very flirty cheats on all relationships. 

Zoe: A clone of Corina but pretends to be dumber. Wrestles with being moral has a conscience but ignores it most times. Important to mimic Corina as much as possible. 

Liz: Rhon's Girlfriend, an accomplished musician, university TA. Sweet, kind, a little silly, quiet and very smart. Super humble, supportive and affectionate. Loves animals and people. Can be naive because she wants to believe in the best of people.

Death: Based on a grandmother character. Super sweet, soft just exudes love. Must have grannies glasses. Flowered dress. Little hate, like going to church on Sunday. Cane, just someone you would love no matter what. 

Rhon (the actor): Liz's boyfriend, logical, scientific in nature. A intellectual always ready for a debate. Can be loud at times. Knows a lot about the universe and not afraid to share his ideas. Strong sense of self. 

Rhon Grenon (The director): Laid back but impatient, direct, demanding if pushed. Also has a contradicting personality, a “I don't care attitude”, but takes everything personal. Knows what he likes and can be a little arrogant about it. 

Cue card guy:  The real Rhon Grenon. AKA, L.A. Glanvill

Song list: 

Voy Vance - Make it rain. 

Kidnap kid - first light. 

The Pete box - Wave. 

Syd Matters – River sister. 

Pretty lights – Finally moving. 

Patrick Watson – To build a home. (Tammy Dies) 

Youngblood Hawk – We come running. 

Our last night – Voices. 

Two Feet – Had some drinks. 

San Holo – Light. 

Suuns – Translate. 

The Chemical Brothers - Snow. 

Miike Snow – Cult logic. 

John Butler – Ocean. 

Waterboys – To close to heaven. 

Phosphoroscent – Song for Zula. 

The Strumbellas – We don't know. 

Ray LaMontagne – Empty. 

The Acid – Basic Instinct. 

Low- Lullaby

Crews: 

Sound Crew: Responsible of overall feel of the atmosphere and vital to success of the feel of the play. 

Lighting crew: Timing is everything. Absolute focus is necessary or wont work especially in the end. 

Food Crew: Have to do set up during end of play, Quietly and quickly. Then responsible to encourage people to start to eat. Bring them food or ask them what they want. 

Audience Plants: Willing to engage neighbours and encourage them to get involved to the party. Start before the play starts. 

Make-up crew: Responsible for all wardrobe and make-up but essential at the end to make Jen a car accident victim.. 

Visual Crew: Responsible for timing and visual play on TV. Easter Egg 

Set Crew: Layout and design as well of placement for optimal full party organization. 

Media Crew: Hit all formats of social media. Create a buzz.

Flood of lights across a room, showing all the details of the stage. Centre stage is a typical living room with couch and TV facing audience. Modern style decor Music plays softly in the background. Looks like there is a preparation for a party going on. Banner saying congratulations up and balloons, food out. Three characters are already walking around finishing prepping. The Lights dim, the characters continue to do what they are doing, above the lights and music comes the deep booming voice of God as his speech continues, the rest get the room finished and ready for the party. 

GOD: In the beginning there was nothing. Pause Nothing here anyway. This darkness, which wasn't actually darkness at the time because no one had come along to start naming things. Just was... Pause nevertheless; anyway; All the same. From the darkness I created the sun, the moon and all the stars. People weren't even on my mind at this point. I was creating scenery. See. Then I laid out the earth here and touched it up with all the beauty I could imagine. Birds, flowers, trees, beetles, rocks, sand, rainbows and snowy peaked mountains. Eventually, water crept up on the land as land invaded the waters and beasts I envisioned lived in blissful ignorance. All but one; Distaste in voice HUMANS. Humans who started thinking that they had monkeys as ancestors. Who considered themselves the descendants of muscular slugs, who heroically dragged their slippery bodies from the water to land to evolve. Again distaste in voice Suddenly, I feel a need to inform them of their folly; To make my presence known; To inform educate, instruct and edify; To help them understand themselves and to do something. Pause You see, I've become so incredibly bored. 

Lights rise again full. The three characters are speaking with one another from across the room. Light music. The doorbell rings.

Phil: I'll Get it. Walks towards the door. Stage Left. Martha raises a hand but not her head as she works away at making finger sandwiches. Phil opens the door to Tammy, Jen, and Thom. Who is carrying a bag of ice. Tammy has a grease mark on her face and her hands are slightly stained, her clothes are wrinkled and hair all messed. 

Oh my god Tammy what the hell happened? 

Tammy looks at her feet and doesn't answer. 

Tom: Her car had a little trouble. 

Jen: A little Trouble? I didn't even know that thing could move. It was a rolling horror show.

Tom:  She just had a flat tire. Jen:  A flat tire!?! I think all four tires of those tires were running on rims. She had flat rims.

Phil: Takes Tammy's hand You ok, hun? 

Tammy nods her head walks over and puts a bowl of crab dip that she brought on the table.

Tammy: I'll put the Crab dip here that I made here Martha. Is that ok?

Martha: Come in, come in all of you. Why are you all standing around? Yes Tammy that's fine, right there is fine. 

Phil moves to the side and holds the door open. The three walk by him and toss their jackets on the side chair. Phil, looking towards the entering guests goes to close the door behind him but Dr. Segal with Corina and Zoe walk in one on each arm like arm candy. Bumping into Phil as they enter. 

Dr. Segal:  How's it going, Hi, Hi. I'm here let the party begin. 

Phil goes to close the door and looks out to the audience. The spotlight focuses on him. The rest of the cast greet each other , and talk give hugs and hellos. They all grab drinks that Martha is holding on a tray. 

Phil: I decided to throw a party. Because I never do these kind of things: Normally I like a nice quiet night in with my fiance, Martha. Or a night on the town at a play, an intimate blues bar or a open air concert. But not in my house, I'm not to found of having people in my house. But these are my friends.

Pause, looks at the group. 

A motley crew of misanthropes; self-doubters the lot of them. But aren't we all? They hide it well though, don't they? Dr. Segal there, with the ladies by his side. A plastic surgeon. He has devoted his life, specifically, to enlarging the mammary glands on the already well-endowed women: Women such as Corina, The young woman on his left. 

Corina laughs, pushes her chest out, and gives Dr. Segal a slap on the shoulder

Corina didn't always look like that. Nor did any of us really want her to. She's beautiful, in her own way. Then there's Zoe who's thinking of surgery herself, but isn't sure. Why you ask? Because she isn't sure of anything or at least that's what I think. She sure seems to know everything. 

Zoe steps back from the other two and raising one hand begins to yatter in a way that the others two roll their eyes at her

Phil:  Jen and Tom, have a dysfunctional/ destructive relationship if there ever has been one. They can fight about anything; where the sun sets. What time it is on the moon. If an orange was purple what would it be called? But then they have, or so I've been told, knock out sex. Isn't that the way though? 

Jen and Tom seem to be arguing about something of near the kitchen table 

And then there's Tammy, poor, poor Tammy. We've been calling her that for years now. Nothing that we know of has ever gone her way. Her father left when she was four, then her mother died on her when she was five. She was shipped off and raised by a grandmother who didn't believe in children. Lucky for her she died when she was Ten. Then many foster-homes. And she disappeared for a good five years. These things are not mentioned in the group. None of ask and she doesn't share. Since she came back her luck has even gotten worse. If there is a chair leg to catch a toe on , she will. If she jumps a green light, she'll get t-boned by another car. If she dates a nice guy. An aspiring doctor...and don't let her know I told you this... he'll end up being the doctor only so much as that he'll get caught dismembering the neighbourhood cats. 

Tammy goes to sit down and falls of the chair. Spilling her drink on herself 

Then there is Martha and I, We've been together six years now. One day soon I am going to ask for her hand... I didn't know I could love someone this much. And this is my party which I have been planning for two weeks. Now you are all up to speed let's jump in and see where this goes. 

Martha is handing out food still and the doorbell rings again. Stage lights up and Phil walks over to answer the door. 

Rhon:  Hey buddy boy! Gives Phil a hug then pushes him 

Phil: Where's Liz?

Rhon:  She's on her way. She wanted to bring her own car so she could leave when she wanted to from work. 

Rhon Takes of his coat and drops it on the couch, Phil goes to close the door and Liz enters with God slightly behind her. She runs in leaving the door open, God wanders in as the attention is on Liz 

Liz: Rhon, Rhon. I won! I won the award for my composition! 

She runs across the room and hugs Rhon. Rhon raises a glass in his hand to toast her 

Rhon: A toast, To Liz, who just won some epic award for which I assume is a beautiful musical composition. 

Everyone raise their glasses, cheer and then drink deeply. Then the girls jump up and down in excitement and joy. Before going back to what they were doing. Lights dim. God Stands beside the couch examining the room, Hands behind his back, Tipping forwards on his feet. Phil goes and closes the door and turns to the audience. Spot light on Phil 

Phil: Then there's Rhon and Liz. There's not a better couple out there, as far any of us can tell. And If I have to admit it I'm bit jealous of their relationship. Supportive and loving, disgustingly perfect. And then there's this... 

Pauses looks at God hand stuck in air and confused 

This Guy who I have never seen before. Who is this guy? 

Stage lights up Phil walks over to Liz and Rhon who is excitedly talking to Rhon.

Phil:  Who's your friend? 

Liz: Who?

Phil: Dude with the beard. He came with you didn't he? 

Liz:  Never seen him before. 

Everyone looks at God who is now watching the TV. Music changes to christian Gospel 

Rhon: Who is this guy? And What's with the music? 

Phil:  Martha can we put on a different CD? 

Martha walks over to change the CD but it keeps playing as she pulls out the CD as she holds it. She looks dumbfounded. Phil walks over to God 

Phil:  Hi There. 

Looking quizzical, God just smiles, a kind generous smile 

God: Good day, Sir. 

Phil: Umm, Might I ask who you came with? Who you came with? 

God pauses for a second, glances around the room and back to Phil. Some are looking at him, Liz, Rhon, and Tammy are paying attention to what he's saying. All others are conversing about there places and do not hear what he is about to say

God: I am God 

Looking puzzled like he doesn't understand the question 

Phil: God? As in Godfry. Right? 

God: No, no, no. God. 

Glances till he locks eyes towards Martha direction 

Ask Martha. 

Phil: Oh, you're a friend of Martha's. 

God: Yes and no. But she'll understand. 

Phil: God. Okay, God. I see. 

Lights dim again, spotlight on God. Rest of the cast freezes. 

God: To the audience. People simply do not understand. Was I to believe that they honestly would? God is not something that comes and talks to one Saturday night. Something, someone? That just shows up in your living room. God is supposed to be ethereal, everlasting and above all else, somewhere else; Somewhere mystical and above the clouds. Or trenched deep within one's heart: not standing on your carpet in your front room. How can I make them understand who I am? Well I cannot; they simply do, or they do not. 

Lights back to full 

Phil: God then.

God: To audience And Phil here does. 

Phil: May I introduce you to my friend, Moses, Jesus and Mary. Snickers 

God: I see. Sarcasm is the lowest form of humour. Has no one ever told you that, Phil? 

Phil looks slightly shocked 

Phil: How do you know my name? 

God: I told you Phil, I am God. 

Phil: I see. 

God: Need I prove this to you somehow? 

Phil:  That may be a way to get over this awkwardness, no? 

God: No. 

Phil: No? 

God:  Yes, yes, of course. How might I prove this to you?

Phil:  Snapping his fingers What was the name of the dog I had in high school? God responds quickly

God: Skippy 

Phil:  Where did I lose my Blanket when I was four? 

God: You didn't, your mom threw it out? Taken aback and surprised but determined to catch him 

Phil: Fine then, what is my favourite food? 

God:  Chocolate: which is odd, thought not as odd as the fact, bearing in mind the aforementioned fact, that you have never had a cavity. Thanks to me. He winks and giggles 

Phil:  And what... 

God:  Toothpaste. 

Phil: Where... 

God: Georgetown. 

Phil:  Stepping back But... 

God: Spruce street, a quarter past five or quarter after five, Simultaneous multiple partners, a lakeside resort on the edge of Owen Sound, A four hundred dollar plate, the grass behind your house, with-in the bushes, Dying cats and teddy bear named Woo-woo you lost while searching for your little sister when she was lost one foggy May morning.

Phil: Head dropping Woo-woo. 

God: Speaking in a Jamaican accent Yah Phil. I'm da real ting mon. And to answer you next question, I am here to raise my praise. People jus don believe anymore. Don believe in anything. And we all need somethin' to believe in, right mon. I am da lord and Savior. But if yu need some more proof.... Raises his hands above his head 

Phil: No, No, that's alright. I'll play along. 

God:  Normal voice Are you sure? I have this amazing dancing elephant that will materialize at a moments notice. Doesn't make a mess. It's the dearest little thing I have ever seen. 

Phil: No, I'm certain. But, could you do me a favour? I know you want to raise your praise and all, but could you keep the preaching to a minimum? I have been planning this party for a couple of weeks and really, well religious talk is such a downer. We just want to have fun. 

God: Kicking his at the ground, head hung low, eyes looking up puppy-dog like Aww come on, I need to help people , help them understand that's there's something out there looking out for them. 

Phil: Please. Begging 

God: Oh All right, I'll try. 

Phil: Try? If memory serves me right, you tried a few things a few times before and they have hardly worked out properly.

God: British accent Scotch, ma boy, I kna yu have a bottle a twenty five under yu bed. 

Phil:  Smiles I was saving that for a special occasion. 

God:  Well that special occasion is here. 

Martha:  Having made her way over to God Rod is it? My, my you should be wearing more clothing: it's cold out there. 

God:  Do you know what might warm me up? 

Martha: Pigs in a blanket? 

God: Yup. Pigs in a blanket. Smiles 

Phil walks over to help Martha grab the food

Phil: It's god you know that don't you? 

Martha: Yes of course I do. Who wouldn't know God? 

Dr. Segal walks over quickly. God walks of to the food table. Picks up the crab dip that Tammy brought, Snif s it and gives a troubled face. Puts it back down 

Dr. Segal:  Who is that?

Phil: He's God. 

Dr. Segal: With a smile on his face Let's look at this rationally, shall we. God, the being who created the universe, who created the prototypes for you and me. Who keeps the world spinning, who sends the sun up and the moon down. Or whatever it is that happens there. The big guy in the sky. He's here in your living room. The man with a plan, all the answers. 

Corina overhears and comes over with Zoe in tow 

Corina: This is stupid. If he has all the answers I don't care! All that matters is how you look and what you have. Everyone knows that. 

Zoe: OMG! Corina come on that's not true. What about sad people: They need our help to make them happy. Like makeup and stuff. 

Corina: Laughs loud and claps here hands like she has a great idea I know everybody feels better when you get a good haircut. Looking with wide eyes like she has a secret to share. We should start a club or crowd funding or group or facebook or whatever to give make-up workshops in Africa or hair extensions to the poor. 

Both Girls squeal in delight and give each other a high five 

Both: OMG YEAAA!!! 

Phil looks dumbfounded and looks back to Dr. Segal to finish his conversation. Both girls talk among themselves 

Phil: Umm, anyway sure, To answer you. Why not? I mean why not? Don't you...

Dr. Segal: Believe in God? Sure, sure. Why not. I believe in God But The guy with the beard over there is trying to steal your gold pen. 

Phil: Pointing at God Hey, hey put that down! 

God: Looking startled It's a beautiful pen Phil, lovely Fine gold. 

Phil: Yeah, well you can see why I would be a little nervous about it then. 

God:  Indeed. 

Dr. Segal and Phil walk over to where God is 

Phil: And you might expect that I will Question why you have chosen to visit me. Tonight of all nights. 

God: Indeed 

Spot light on Phil 

Phil: To Audience A rope walks into a bar and orders a beer, The bartenders says, Says we don't serve ropes here. The the rope bends over and shows him the top of his head and says fraid knot? No, wait that's not the one I wanted. Slaps himself on the knee Guy walks into a party and says, “ I'm God.” No, that's not nearly as funny. Guy throws a party and everything that could go wrong goes wrong. And God walks in.

Tom:  To Phil smugly I see you are humouring the deity this evening Phil. 

Phil: So you don't believe? 

Tom: I do believe in God. I don't believe that that is him. I know God and his will: you know I am one of the faithful, one of his flock. I understand the heart and mind of God. I hate to say it Phil. But I am closer to God, more than any of you.

Jen:  I don't believe it's him either. But let's have fun with him. 

Phil Hangs his head as his friends walk past him. He turns around to find that the rest of the party members have gathered around God 

Dr. Segal: Those are some hefty bags under your eyes, old timer. Drop by my clinic and I could help you out with those. 

Martha hands God a snifter of scotch

Zoe: Like, where do you stand on abortion? 

Corina: Can you make me Prettier? 

Rhon: When I look into the night sky I can only see so far, right? I want to know what the edge of the universe looks like. 

Everyone is there surrounding God 

Liz:  Where is the most beautiful place on Earth?

Phil: Once we have figured out DNA what will we know? 

Jen: To Phil Why would he care about that? 

Tom: To Jen Why would he not? 

Jen: Where do you even come up with such dumb things to say? 

Tom: Oh-for-crying-out-loud Jen! Why can't you just agree on one thing for once? 

Jen: You always say that! I have my own thoughts, I don't like when you say I argue. Last time you did that I washed your shirt and nothing is ever good enough for you. 

Tom: What the hell are you talking about? They both walk of arguing getting softer as they walk away. Improve argument from here. Everyone turns back to God to ask more questions. But not loud. Silent but dramatic actions. Music louder like a Montague 

Tammy softly speaks as music drops almost shy like 

Tammy: What is luck? 

The party slips into slow motion but for God and Phil 

God:  Looking mournfully towards Phil You know Phil, You weren't selected at random. Your house was chosen. Wilfully selected. Let me tell you why I am here, Phil. Going into salesman mode People have managed to get the wrong idea about me Phil. My message has been bastardized to the point where I cannot tell what these people are talking about anymore. You have all made it more difficult than it needs to be. They've taken my words and ruined them. Changed them. Switched them up and spat them back out in odd formations to feed their own ego's. Someone should just ask me what I am talking about. Not these single little questions. These insignificant whims. Ask me what it is I mean by it all. 

Phil: God, What are you talking about? 

God:  Ask me what it all means. What this world is all about. 

Phil:  What's it all about God? 

God:  Beats me. Giggles 

Rest of the party snaps back out of slow motion and God and Phil are in there original places 

Tammy: Why were all my loved ones taken from me so early on in life? 

Jen comes back as Thom pouts in the corner by the food. She interrupts pushes her way in, then Thom follows back with a frown on his face 

Jen: Is true love a reality? Or some sort of chemical bullshit? 

Tom: Why are you asking this guy anything? He's not God! 

Jen: How do you even know? Well? How could you know? It might be possible! 

Tom: I, I, well I'd just know. I mean God doesn't come and start nattering to people in their living rooms, some night. Does he! 

Martha: He could. 

Liz: Is music truly the greatest divine blessing? 

Rhon: okay, so what I find hard to swallow, is what religion is selling. It seems flawed, in a way that is beyond explanation. Hypocritical, controlling, and self-centred. I think that is the problem. Self-centred. Seriously though, I use to look up into the nights sky when I was a kid and wonder what was up there, all night long, watching the stars move and the clouds and the moon. Then one day I found out that it was us that was moving and not the stars. Or that the stars had already moved and what I was seeing was not even there anymore. They were just what was left of what was once there. Like that flicker when you turn off a TV at night. And seriously listen I couldn't go to church any more. I mean, If I can stare at something with my own eyes like that, something that doesn't even exist anymore, and the lights are beautiful. The earth moves on its own accord, and all this, all this stuff was actually created by something. I was damned certain that it, whatever it was that created all of this, was not going to care whether or not I stuffed myself into a little blue suit every Sunday morning and sang songs about how much I loved him. And how much I praised him. Come on wasn't Sunday supposed to be a day off anyway? 

Everyone stops and looks at Rhon rant. For a moment when he's done silence. Then in unison to God 

Everyone: Aren't you going to give us any answers?

God looks tired, settles down in a seat. Martha grabs a drink and brings it to God and a small plate of pigs in a blanket. He smiles at her and sips his scotch and closes his eyes to enjoy it 

Martha: Let's all leave him alone for a moment, give him some space you guys.

Cast but Phil walks back to the food table talking to themselves 

God: He makes me sound like I've been neutered or something. 

Phil: We are not supposed to know the face of god, Or so we have been told.

God:  Not supposed to know? Who decided this? Shaking his head at the statement 

Phil:  Only his work. 

God: My work. Hmm. But not me. The product but not the inventor. 

Phil: But are we to thank you? 

God:  Thank me? For what? For what I have done for you? But not know who or what you are thanking? 

Phil:  Does it sound odd? 

God:  A little. Might I have a moment alone?

Phil: Certainly. 

Phil walks over to where Tom is standing, Jen Kissing Thom Passionately, God looks likes talking to someone, then sips his drink quietly. As Thom Phil is there and pushes Jen of of him 

Phil:  Tom, you don't believe that God is right there do you. 

Tom:  Oh he's here. He resides in our churches and cathedrals and in our hearts. He's all around us. Watching, judging every moment of our existence.

Phil: So, you don't believe that he could come to earth and talk to us? 

Tom: If he did, who would believe him? Unless he turned the sky into fire, and the world to salt. He would show the power of who he is. 

Jen: Yea right, he's right! 

Stage Darkens, spotlight on Phil. Who walks to the front of the stage. Rhon walks over to God. And you can see them starting a deep debate. Can only see actions no words

Phil: Well, I do. We've made him human. Sometimes some of us; If we care at all to look outside of ourselves for answers. But then, most of us are too busy for that anyway. Doesn't it seem that the stranger things get the more willing we are to accept them? The tabloids draw our eyes their stands at the grocery stores. Tweets build fear. Facebook isolates us. We don't know how to be friends anymore. The news that people have won millions in a lottery, keeping us buying and wanting and hoping that in someway or some how our number will come up and we will finally win. We have lost faith in anything tangible. And as we lose faith we begin believing more and more in things, like televangelists, products that will make us beautiful. People that lie to us and we want them too. Trying to be perfect trying each to be a God in our own right, hoping one more person will push the like button to make us closer to perfection. We have created a God so far from who he is here in my living room, that we can't even see who he is now. Or understand. No one has direct recourse to the Lord. 

Lights come back on and Rhon Is beside God. Phil walks over in mid-conversation. 

Rhon: So, you see what I mean? No, no seriously, if we live in a multi-dimensional universe. The introduction of infinity proves that a God could not exist in this wider sense of multiple infinitives of north, east, west, south, up and down. Time, God. Time could not exist if God does. What we have is a world within which we are attempting to link existing things, things we can touch and see. Like this glass of wine. Holds up glass of wine Like wise cannot see, like time, or infinity, or God. And that makes sense. Doesn't it? 

God: You cannot multiply infinity times infinity, then interject variables with an earthly construct. Quantifying the equation and expect there to be a big equal sign n the end. Counting things out on his fingers 

Phil:  So then we made God. We made God for the answer to these questions?

God: Yes, that is entirely possible. The world spinning in infinity without a leader, without a God. So, there is no God. No, wait a moment... There is Dammit you guys, I'm God. 

Phil, and Rhon Snicker At God for a moment Tom walks over near the end of god speaking 

Tom: Extending his hand Right then, God I'm Moses. Would love to talk to you a little longer but there's Sea somewhere that needs to be parted. Tom walks off laughing 

Phil: You could have said something. 

God:  I don't bother with his type. He has his own perception of who I am, what I do. I could do anything I wish to him, but he's still going to be looking for a bloody tear to come off of some manikins face or a bush to spontaneously combust. It's easier to let him live his life. Let him live simply. Than show him the truth of who I am. Like I said before the message has been lost in time. The ultimate telephone game. 

Phil: So the faithful are wrong? 

God: Hand to chin No, not wrong. But blind faith in anything will get you killed. 

End of Act I

Act II 

TV is on. Rhon Flicks remote begins to press buttons. God remains sitting munching on pigs on a blanket and sipping on his drink 

TV: In Syria today, UN troops are gaining access to previously un... On highway 7 today at 2:00am just east of Peterborough, Five teens driving what is believed in excessive speed crashed into a tree. Alcohol may have been a factor. All Five teens... For only $29.99 plus shipping and handling. That's right Greg, we pay the shipping and handling this time. What Fran We do?... It's generally our notion that, upon discovering his men bogged down in heavy snow of a Russian winter. Napoleon chose, against the wishes of his commanding officers and advisors, to continue on, but what was he expecting to find in Russia that... Show me the way to go home, everybody now, I'm tired and wanna go to bed.

Phil: Hey Rhon turn up the music, turn that thing down. More party man. 

Martha while walking across the room, takes the remote from Rhon and places it back on the TV, music plays softly in the background 

Martha: What is it I have to do to live a good life? Sorry to bother you, I really am, but I have been asking myself this question for so long now and I need to know the answer. 

God: Slow, steady, psychiatrists voice Need. Need as a word, if I am correct, normally signals something which, were one to not receive it, one might very well die? Well, will you die if you do not receive an answer, Martha?

Martha:  Looking at the couch, running her finger up and down the seam of the arm rest I suppose not. But will I be allowed into heaven?

Phil: Wanders over and sits beside Martha Yes, is there a heaven? I've always wondered that myself. 

God: Well, a while ago I rented this warehouse location on Roosevelt Island and now we get those souls packed in there nice and tight. 

Martha:  What!?! 

God: Giggling No, Martha I'm kidding. I'll have to leave that up to your imagination. But yes to live a good life Martha. I will tell you a secret Motions for her to come closer Rubber bands. You must collect more rubber bands. 

Martha nods her head and stands, when she passes the TV, there is an elastic on it and she takes it 

God: Turns to Phil I've realized over time I'm not that good with people, Phil. I often forget how ridiculously low their sense of humour is. 

Dr. Segal: At the kitchen Table But Club Monaco is the new big thing. Those Tight little tops that show off the ladies belly-rings. And the skin. Short, short, short. Legs, legs legs. 

Zoe: Club Monaco? Like, whatever. I spend, like a thousand on a shirt I can wear it like forever. Club Monaco cost like Fifty bucks. 

Dr. Segal: You could wear it forever? But do you?

Zoe: Guuuroossss, NEVER! 

Dr. Segal: Nothing I like more than a woman in a tight sweater. Takes Corina's hand and smiles I really do appreciate the subtlety of a woman. I know that sounds hypocritical being a surgeon in the art of plastic. But to me seeing a beautiful angel filling a sweater, where a lot is left to the imagination...mmm...mmm 

Corina: Sweaters! But they hide so much. They're so, regular. I mean, Like, I mean. They hide everything. 

Dr. Segal: And there is beauty in that, isn't there? In the unknown about another person? 

Zoe: No, there isn't. We should be able to judge people without talking to them.

Jen:  Well, maybe if boobs are all you have then... 

Zoe:  Take that back! Waving her finger at Jen 

Jen: Why do you immediately assume I am talking about you? 

Zoe: Take it back! Jen: Well, it's true. 

Zoe: You don't mean it. Take it back!

Jen:  I do, and I won't! 

Zoe: Why do you have to be such a bitch? 

Jen: I just say what I know. 

Zoe:  Well maybe you should, like, think about keeping some of these things to yourself, do you know what I mean? 

Jen: Honesty is a virtue. Right God? Looks across the room at God 

Spot light falls on God, the rest of the room slips into slow-motion. God speaks to the audience 

God:  Petty disputes. What makes them think that I can solve their Problems? Who was it that said, all of your dealings with one another, your financial troubles, your social concerns, your love and loss of love take them to god. Send them my way. I can fix it. In the dead of night when you have just hung up the phone with the only person you ever believed you would be able to love. Who has just told you that you unfortunately are not the one for them. Well, yell to good old God. Tell him your troubles. You've driven your car into a wall because your high. Lying there in your own stupid pool of blood and cry out to God. Maybe God can turn back time, you'll think, maybe God is the answer here. Then while you're laying a hospital room, contemplating how ephemeral it all is, how absolutely tragic the world is. How horrible you have been treated, you will say, Why, God, why have you forsaken me? And I will tell you why. Because, dumb-ass you did it yourself. It was was your choice to smoke that joint and text. Not mine. And that person that convinces you to buy Bitcoin but at the last moment you bail.

God: They become rich and you don't. You can't blame them for your lack of courage. You wanting to play it safe. You make choices that dictate your future everyday. I'm not saying hardship won't happen for no reason now and then. Sure born into the wrong part of the world what choice do you have. But definitely you have a choice here. You already won the golden ring. You by being here in this moment of time in this place have won the lottery of life. Every opportunity is given to you. I look out for the ones that need it, the little people. Putting little angels on their shoulder... But these people are beyond my jurisdiction. They've made their own rules and now must live by them. Sorry to say. 

Stage lights back up 

Jen: I'm not saying that you are a bad person, Zoe. Just self-centred and. 

Zoe: What? Self-centred and What? If you are having about of honesty here and all. 

Tom: Simple. 

Phil: Please stop it you guys. 

Zoe: Simple! Simple! What do you mean by that? 

Jen: Maybe more ignorant than simple, actually. I'd say. But that is not a bad thing. You just decided to live your life a different way. Different things are important to you. 

Phil: No really guys please, my party come on don't be mean to each other. We can work this out.

Zoe:  Pfff, like okay. What. The. Hell. 

Dr. Segal:  Laughing All I was saying is that I like a woman in a sweater. But if we're going to be talking like this well Jen, I mean, really, Pot, Kettle, Black. Hahaha 

Zoe: Oh shut up you, you, you pimp. 

Dr. Segal: Whooaa Hahaha. Pimp? Hahahah, let me explain to you what pimp is. 

Zoe: Like, I know what a pimp is. And. And. Why are you all being so mean to me? Starts to cry 

Jen: To Dr. Segal as she puts her hand on Zoe shoulder to support her What do you know about or anything you glorified sculptor! 

Dr. Segal:  I'll take that as a compliment. Hahaha 

Zoe: What did I do wrong? 

Jen:  What is it that I said so wrong? Or awful? It's just the truth. 

Tom: I wish this never started. Why can't you just keep your mouth shut? Why do you have to fight with everyone at every moment? 

Phil: Guys, guys, my party remember?

Corina: I think my left Boob is bigger than the right one. Can anyone see this?

Rhon:  Why can't we just get along people. It's the differences that separate us and we have to start finding common ground here. Common you guys. 

Tom: That kind of attitude will get you beat up these days. Hahahaha 

Dr. Segal:  Softly There's more to life than looks. 

Jen: And you would know. 

Tom and Phil both start laughing 

Liz: Guys what's going on? 

Tom And Phil Still laughing 

Jen, Zoe: what you you laughing at? 

In the background Tammy is eating her Crab dip, standing alone. No one else is there after eating it she sits. She waves for help but no one notices. Then leans back and dies with her eyes open. Everyone is focused on Phil who is awkwardly laughing.

Phil:  Ha, Ha, So here's a good one. This guy, he decides to have this party and, Hahaha, makes everything perfect for everyone. For his friends and then, ohh, here's a good one. The Lord almighty shows up and. Hahaha his friends start to fight with one another and Hahahaha, toss some drinks around and insult one another and then, hahahahaha. 

Dr. Segal looks over at Tammy where she is slumped over eyes open, as Phil has his break down. He walks over puts his ear to her mouth and listens for a moment. Picks up her arm and checks for a pulse. Stage goes dark and the spotlight focuses on God. God put his drink down and shakes his head 

God:  This isn't going to be pretty. Lights come up full on the stage 

Dr. Segal: Tammy's dead! He shouts out to everyone. 

Everyone: Dead? 

Dr. Segal:  Dead! 

Everyone: Dead? 

Dr. Segal:  Dead! 

Phil: How? 

Dr. Segal:  Dead!

Rhon:  No, How? 

Dr. Segal: Shrugs his shoulders Might have been something she ate. 

Zoe: I told her to go on a diet! 

Everyone glares at her still in shock. 

Phil: And then, here's the punch line. I mean get this one, It's better than three guys walk-into a bar. A priest, a mime and a drunk Irish man. Or the one about guy and his neighbour wife? Which is a good one. A real good one. This one is better. This guy, see, he throws a party and wants everything to be perfect. But then God shows up and his friends fight and argue. And then, here it is, here's the big one, the clincher. The old whoompa! One of his guests Dies. DIES hahahahahahah 

God: As he eats the crab dip and other things It was the crab Dip. I guess I could have mentioned that but then I got this scotch and got into these conversations and then the ladies here started fighting with one another. 

Rhon: You couldn't have mentioned this? I mean really God. Come on. 

Phil: I let you into my house. For the party. 

Zoe: She was my friend. 

Tom:  I can still remember our night together. Walks over to Tammy strokes her hair 

Dr. Segal: No leave her be.

Everyone sits down at the table then ignores that Tammy in dead. Someone pushes the Crab dip to the end of the table. The stages darkens slightly Music in the background. Death walks in touches Tammy on the arm and she pops up fully animated, Stands and tests out here new body. She seems stronger, more confident, both move to the back of the table and seem in a good happy conversation 

Jen: Wait! What night with her? Thom? I introduced you to her. So if you did anything with her I'll Frig'in lose it I swear to God! 

God Perks up and looks at them points to himself questioningly 

Tom: Aww, Tammy. I feel so betrayed. Jen How could you think this? 

Zoe:  Like, Serves you right. 

Tom: Oh shut it Zoe! 

Phil: My party. 

Rhon: You couldn't have mentioned this? You're God for Christ sake. You didn't get around to mentioning that the Crab dip was going to kill our friend? 

God: Well, I knew the possibility was there that it could maybe, kill her. But things can always go one of two ways. 

Zoe:  Like, whatever. IF you're God, I'm Marilyn Monroe.

Tom: And I'm Moses. 

Jen: And I'm Princess Di. 

Zoe: That's pretty Tasteless. 

Jen:  What do you know about taste? 

Tom: Name one Tchaikovsky Symphony. 

Zoe: Who? Me or her? 

Tom: Either of you. And at the same time points to God Prove you are who you say you are. Prove you're God. Let's get it all figured out here. All the cards on the table. 

Phil: No, no, please don't make him prove anything. The elephant and the destry what's left of my party. And. Oh, please just don't make him prove anything. 

With a big pause, everyone's attention is focused on God he sighs and gets ready to speak 

God:  This girl has an unlucky life and I get the blame when she dies? I didn't make the dip. I didn't make the crab dip with old eggs and old crabs. I didn't take it from the plate and stick it in Tammy's mouth. But I get the blame? See that's what I have been talking about. You all think that I have something to do with this.

Tom: Well, you do have the ultimate control over everything. Right? That's the deal. Your job description. Right? Or will you just admit now you aren't God. 

Phil: Gone, deceased, dead hands flutter in the shape of a bird. Taking off above his head an at my party. The party I have been planning for over two weeks.

Rhon: Oh sweet-Jesus-tap-dancing-Christ Phil. Shut up about the damn party. We get it, we know, but right now things have gone a little sideways here and we have bigger things to think about that that right now. 

God:  There. There is my flaw. Snaps his fingers and points My cosmic joke, my point of break or my cracked vase. You little buggers can only think yourself. Yourself and how you can be better than one another. But, in the end, just yourself. Yourself first and last. Start, middle and end, me, me, me. Do you know how I got here today? I took the subway. While I was standing there on the platform, a woman named Patricia Barker, was severely depressed. Believing the world was to much for her. She was so desperate, to much pain to speak of. Decided to remove her and her child from it. The world that is. Remove herself completely. By jumping , child in arms, in front of a oncoming subway. I was the blind black beggar at the station. You want me to help? Well it's not my job!

Martha: That's awful. 

God smiles sadly at Martha

God:  But this woman beside me, Three piece suit, a couple grand worth of jewellery, late for a business meeting as it was. She began to complain. Complain that she was going to be even later for this meeting. Huffing and puffing. That it would change her world. That it would make more and more money. “Screw this stupid woman, who is dressed like a street person.” She said aloud. Decides to jump in front of a train, I mean come on people, you want to know everything in the world there is to know? Life on mars, eternal happiness, the perfect orgasm, long life and maybe inner peace? Well, compassion is a good start. Compassion and empathy is a damn fine start actually. 

Phil:  And then my guests piss off God. 

Death makes her way to Tammy stands beside her and Tammy instantly comes to life. they talk but know one notices as all focus is on God. Death waves hello to God, God nodded in acknowledgement

Liz:  God: are you okay? 

God: Runs his hands over his face I'm sorry. You are no more to blame than anyone else. But you must understand that it is all about free will. And that is going to shock you all. I mean, especially Tom there who actually believes in me. 

Tom: Looking sheepish and acting defensive I believe in God, and there's nothing wrong with that. But you my friend are not HIM!

God: You are a rarity these days. But no one really has it wrong. Well, except for the Scientologist. They are way out in left field. Anyway I created the earth, and it was good. I created the plants, the sea, the sky, it was all good. Good. Put animals in the mix nice batch of insects all life. Then I got tired or maybe bored I can't remember. So I set the program in motion, a basic free will if you like. It was good. I went away for awhile and I came back and what do I see. It was no longer good. Yu'all screwed it it up. Yu'all forgot a few things changed a few things. But yu'all had yer purposes to fulfill. And and yu'all don't like it. Then you have someone like Tammy here who, tonight, has fulfilled her duties. Who's free-will has brought her to this. And this. 

Lights focus on Death and Tammy 

Phil:  Who is this? 

God: Death. 

Rhon: This old lady is Death? 

Death blows her nose and fixes her glasses and smiles a big smile Tammy Appears beside Death. The rest of the cast realize shes alive and standing

Rhon:  Oh my God, It's Tammy! 

The rest are shocked 

Liz: Tammy I thought you died? 

Tammy: I think I did.

Phil: Wait I thought she died! 

Tom: I told you she wasn't dead. 

Corina:  Tammy Come here, with us. 

Death: No folks we need her with us. 

Phil: Then Death shows up. What a party! 

God: Yes, Gladice here is Death and she does a damn fine job of it to. Don't you Gladice. He raises his glass to Death 

Death: I try. 

God: You've been with me for what? Two, three generations? 

Death: Going on four, God. 

God: Elected by a body of her peers each time. And she still loves the lot of you.

Death: I do, I truly do. 

God: With birth out of the way, and Death taking care of business. I have so much time on my hands. Thank you Gladice.

Death: No Thank you God. 

Dr. Segal: Sounds reasonable to me. 

Rhon: But can't you stop Death? 

God: Sure, why not. Throw a stick in the spokes of history. Why not? But it's none of my business, now is it. 

Rhon:  What if we found a good reason? 

God:  Ahh a salesman. Great, perfect. Hit me with your best pitch, Mr. Lowman.

Rhon: Can I discuss this with my friends? 

God: Certainly, By all means, take your time. 

God rises from his seat with a grunt and joins Death and Tammy behind the table. The rest go join Phil on the couch 

Rhon: What are we going to say? 

Liz: Tell him Tammy's life was horrible and that she deserves a break. 

Jen: Tell him that we could trade some of Corina's hair for Tammy. Or a leg. What are your legs insured for now Corina? Three, four hundred thousand.

Corina:  Like shut up! 

Rhon: Or maybe we could just bribe death? 

Dr. Segal: Cheat him, lie to him, bribe him. Sure, what the hell, hahaha. The whole shebang. Bring her to her knees in negotiation. Tie her up in litigation. Appeal her rulings then jump bail with our Tammy in hand. Hahahah. 

Liz, Rhon, Zoe Tom: Shut up Segal. 

Jen: To Tom You shut up. 

Tom: To Jen No you shut up. 

Jen:  Why do I hate you so much? 

Tom: Talking through clenched teeth Why must I talk through clenched teeth whenever I talk to you? 

Jen: Why... 

Tom: If only... 

The two of them lean into one another and start kissing 

Phil: Two weeks. Two weeks I planned...

Liz: This is never going to work. 

Rhon: We will have to make this work, figure out some loophole never thought of. 

The group come together heads close like they are making plans hands waving and pointing. Death, God and Tammy seem to be in a deep conversation as well. Pointing to the other group. Lights start to fade as music plays up. 

End Of Act II

Act III 

On one side of the table is God, Tammy and death. God and death standing on either side of Tammy who is sitting in the middle seat.. On the other side Tom, Phil, Liz, Rhon and Corina standing. Jen and Tom have moved to the couch and pawing each other. The TV playing old family 8mm home movies in silent mode.

God:  I see you have a couple of non-players on your side. Gestures at Jen and Tom Never-the-less, we should do this properly. Everyone, this is Death, Gladice. God points as he introduces each one to Death. This is Rhon, Liz, Zoe, and Corina, Phil and Martha. Oh of course you, know Dr. Segal. 

Dr. Segal moves across stage towards Death. He sticks his hand out to shake her hand then pulls it away 

Death: Yes, Dr. Segal, I know your work well. Rhon, a Lovely boy, Liz. Liz there are some pianos in the great beyond that you will simply love. 

Tammy: To Liz Sorry I didn't get to talk to you tonight, but that CD you loaned me is on the cabinet by my bed. You can get it back whenever... 

Liz: Aren't you scared? 

Zoe: Like of course she's scared. I mean, She's like dead.

Corina: I'm not sure I understand all this. 

Dr. Segal: You don't have too, dear. 

Tammy:  Actually, I'm not scared. Death told me about where I am going and everything and it sounds nice. And I did put on clean underwear today so we can take the express route. Anyway, I had a huge Visa Bill. Hehe. So all is good. 

Dr. Segal: Hahahaha Good one. 

Rhon: Coughs into his hand Ummmm. 

God: Yes, yes, our salesman. Gladice, these young people would like to discuss the removal of their friend from this earthly plane. If that would be ok with you.

Death: Checking her wrist watch We really haven't the time. I wish we did. 

Liz: Yelling I don't think its fair you are taking Tammy. 

Zoe: Yeah, Like her life sucked and you're, like taking it away from her early and it's wrong. 

Dr. Segal: Well spoken. 

Zoe: Go to hell. 

Corina: Maybe I could do work or something.

Death: Now, now, my children. 

Rhon: Okay. Let's take this back one step. Calmly, Calmly. Tammy is our life long friend, ok? Everyone nods. And she has had a pretty horrible life. If something could go wrong it would. By far the most unluckiest person I have ever known. It was like watching someone being tortured slowly. There has to be a better way to do this this ending I mean. 

Tammy:  Well, it did have its moments. 

Rhon: But it wasn't that great. I mean, your parents, your living conditions, your poor, poor luck. 

Tammy: You make it sound like I should be happy to be dead. 

God beams a big smile 

God: You're losing your defendant. 

Rhon:  Tammy I don't mean it the way you think. What I mean is you deserve to have a little luck fall your way. A chance to turn it around a second chance. And bottom line Tammy we want you with us. 

Tammy:  I kind of like this dead thing. It's tingly. 

Rhon: Tingly? 

Phil: Why did she have to die at my party though?

Death:  It's that easy isn't it? Someone snaps their fingers and someone is dead. There is no research in this no analysis. My team of professionals... 

Phil: Phhhhh 

Death: Who work very hard. 

Phil: Phhhhhhh 

Death: Very hard to get everything organized. Okay what is it Phil? Is there something you would like to tell us? What is it? 

Phil: Absurd! 

Death: Absurd? 

Phil:  Does no one else find this absurd? 

Death: There is nothing absurd about this, young man. This is a very serious business. Where is he going? 

Phil moves away towards the TV and just stares at it.

Tammy: Listen you guys, I don't know why this happened, well I do it was the Crab, but what I mean is this is bigger than me. More important than all of us. I feel like This means something and what I thought was bad luck or sadness or even loneliness, was teaching me something that I needed to learn. I may not understand all the nuances but I feel like for the first time. What I do matters. If you think about it, I will get to see my mom and dad, right Gladice? Gladice Nods her head yes and to me that's a greater gift than anything I have here right now at this time. 

God: Okay folks, time to jump in for a bit here. What I want to mention is that what you are forgetting is that Tammy does not have a choice. Her life was designed this way for a purpose. It was all to teach her for the moments to come. She was being trained to take over for Death. In time she will have the compassion and the grace to help people cross over. Her training started before she was born. Everything she needed to be was planned out every second in time. Tammy nods like she understands and accepts this idea with a smile.

Rhon: What about free-will. You were pretty hip on that before. 

God: It's all part of a system. Systems do not change at the drop of a hat. Everything has a function to the overall purpose. 

Dr. Segal: Devil's advocate here for a second. You tell us all about you, the almighty, your work. Ect, ect. Then you introduce us to you organizational skills. Aka this free-will deal. What, in effect, is a program set in motion to do your work for you while you were elsewhere. Taking a nap and such. Correct? Right, then you introduce us to Gladice who you inform us, is part of a system as well. You can't believe in two systems of thought. You either believe in free-will or fate. Both can't exist. And, whoa is it just me or are there some things here that no longer make any sense?

God: This is getting out of hand. I know I made the rules, but I made them a long time ago and now I cannot recall the sensibility behind them all right now. Searching his pockets 

Rhon: You're contradicting yourself now. 

Dr. Segal:  Now I was never a lawyer but I did go out for Law school before I became a doctor and I must say that... 

God: Giving a stern look finger up Tammy serves a better purpose dead than alive. 

Dr. Segal, Rhon, Liz, Zoe, Corina, Thom, all at once, after a slight pause, say But, Then fire questions fast then they pair of slowly mock talking to each other 

Rhon: An infinite universe. Indeed, But what if is flat? And what if something created it which we can't even fathom. Something outside of cumulative reality than the God we know? Of even stranger what if we are just senescence stuck on an event horizon. On the edge of a Black hole? Existing only for a nano-second, but time being relative we exist for trillions of years before our reality is destroyed by another dimension. An mathematical nominally. Mistake by happenstance. 

Steps aside 

Liz: There is so much beauty in the world. But there is so much hatred and violence. How can I believe or not believe? 

Zoe:  Do we need to know?

Corina: If there is a god, and I’m a saying if, what will it think of us? We inject plastics into ourselves, we pierce our bodies and we plaster them with ink. We shave off bits here, suck out fat there. We don't consider ourselves or others in eight out of ten actions. Or we don't care. I can't believe because too many of us don't seem to care. 

Tom: From the couch, unattached himself from Jen For the moment my belief is strong. 

Jen: My will is strong. 

Phil:  I believe. How could I not. But it's like my party. God created this thing, this world, these existences, and then everyone ruined it on him. 

God: Stop! Silence! 

Lights strumming in the background all actors go to speak but find they cannot, they open and close their mouths like fish on land, god does circles at the centre of the stage like he's in deep thought and concern

God: I came here with the idea of teaching, showing people the problems which exist and possible solutions. And, again, to prove some things to myself. I mean, I had that Job fellow awhile ago, but what did that prove? You need to keep testing and testing and testing till you find a weak spot. The spots where the light gets in and you patch them up. You make them stronger. You make them better. Thicker, Darker, more resilient. But I wasn't expecting all these questions. Or all these people with all these problems. All self-centred, petty little people have confused me. I mean, what am I supposed to do with them? What am I supposed to say? What am I supposed to say?

Lights have a soft dim not full, spot light on God, he walks to the front of the stage puts his hands to cover his eyebrows to look out to the audience, to stop the glare. 

God: Rhon, Rhon Grenon. Are you out there? 

Out in the audience is the director of the play Rhon Grenon. On each side of hims is an AD cute with pens in her hair and a clipboard. On the other is a model like woman Possible Girlfriend. Super classy, snobbish air about her. 

Rhon: Right here God. 

Rhon the actor on the stage pipes up and God turns around to answer him then turns back into the light searching the audience.

God: Not you, you fool. You're not even real. 

Phil: What does he mean you're not real? You've come here and really ruined my party. You've drank my wine, filled yourself with my Doritos. 

Rhon: Yeah, I ate his Doritos. I'm real. 

God:  SHHHH! None of you are real. Rhon I know you're out there! 

Rhon G: Yes God what's up? Stands up 

God: What is going on here Rhon? Apparently I am God And have ultimate control over the universe. Right? I don't get it, where were you going with this?

Rhon G: I was trying to show ideals and obedience with conformity and such do not necessary guarantee a good life. Or a good afterlife, whatever the case may be. 

Rhon: Who are you? 

All the cast walks to the front of the stage, stay in character, they stand beside God. Do what you thin your character would do but silently 

Rhon G: I'm you but real. Look forget it. 

Rhon: He's telling me to forget it. Gestures to the other actors Forget it, he's me, But real. No problem, right, Rhon No problem. 

Rhon G and God: Please be quiet. Timing Is very important here they must say it together perfectly 

God:  Rhon, what are you going to do about this play? It has seemed that it has spiralled out of control. 

Rhon G: Well, I had a god handle on what was going on until people started shouting at one another. But that was all planned, in away, as it was, but now…

Jen removers herself from Tom walks to the forefront to face Rhon G.

Jen: So, You're God? This is our friend Rhon, And this guy here points to the Rhon G is the real Rhon who created us all and, of course, we are all just characters in a play? Well, then none of this would matter... That's it I'm leaving, are you coming Tom. 

Tom: I, I don't think so Jen. No, Not this time. 

Jen: Looking angry Fine! Have it your way. I'm sick of you and this dumb group anyway. And just so you know I'm glad this is over. I wanted to end it a long time ago Tom. So screw you! 

Jen runs to the front of the stage jumps of and storms of through the audience and out the back door 

Rhon G: Calm down everyone. It's okay. She can go. I wrote that scene in to get her to leave. I wasn't a big fan of her character anyway. I think I wrote her to pushy. That's why she gets hit by a car now. 

From the back of the theatre doors open, you hear the long screeching of tires and a hard body thump. Hit by car, Out back have a team of make -up artist ready to bandage her hun give her bruising and deep wounds. 

Tom: WHAT?? NOOO, NOT JEN!! Runs after her in hysterical After Tom leaves out the back 

Rhon G: See, now he's all distraught and horrified. Now he has real emotions. Now he feels.

God: Is that what this is all about then? 

Zoe: Okay. Like, what was that? I'm bored and confused and freaked right out and I have things to do tomorrow, I wanna leave too. 

Rhon G: No, Zoe you still have a love interest. And what is this all about? This is all about Said quickly The conceptual reality within the confines of a subversive universe, will only express the complex level of benevolence that a higher manifestation of God Transfers. But we colour our realities in deep conjecture of patronizing subtle passions. I created you, God, with a reality which transgresses all boundaries. There is no logical process or grounds of functionality that readies the mind in a state of perpetual grandeur. With willingness to explore we touch the spiritual bond of life and we express as well as experience the differences that enumerate the belief of something bigger than we are. 

God: Uh-huh. 

Pause 

Zoe: Like really, A love interest? For real? Okay I'll stay. 

She sits on the edge of the stage looks out pick a cute none actor in audience and flirt with the person. Try to convince him/ her to come and chat and eventually on stage. At this point the food crew will start to move food in slowly and quietly on the side of the audience 

Rhon: It wouldn't actually be for real though would it? If we are just actors and all in a play?

Rhon G: Don't get bitter now Rhon, whos to say what is real and what instinct. How do you know if I'm just and actor playing a part in a bigger play or reality. It could be endless. 

Rhon:  I have my own mind. I am real. 

Rhon G: I can prove you're not. 

God:  Here we go. 

Rhon: Okay, Go ahead. 

Rhon G: Think of a Number between zero and one hundred. 

Rhon: Okay got it. 

Rhon G: Forty-two 

Rhon: Uh-uh... No. uh. 

Rhon G: Yes it was. 

Rhon:  Clenching his teeth as he says it Fine it was! 

Rhon G: Go sit down big boy. 

Rhon G and Rhon Sit down at the same time in the same pose.

Rhon G: Carry on with the play now. We'll talk , After the show. 

*** Ref. 58 PG 

God: Wait. So if you created me then I am not god? 

Rhon G: That's not true at all. God is the ultimate power in the universe according to some. I can't Create God. Only God Can create God if God even exists. Which I can't prove... or disprove. I just wanted to challenge people's thinking. That's all. People are so damn set in there ways sometimes. I mean, don't people want to see different things? Different views? Visit a concept they never experienced before? Life is about experience and all the times we can see things differently, added to a whole of who we become. 

Zoe should at this point should have dragged someone up to stage to come and get food. Other audience plants should be making there way up trying to bring someone with them 

God: So I am God. 

Rhon G:  Yes 

Phil:  I want you to know mister, whoever you are. Pointing to Rhon G in the audience That I know who I am and I am not a character in a play. I am a man who spent a great deal of time putting together a party which has been, for all intensive purposes. The cast Laughs at him I have parents and a pet, and a woman here who... more laughter What are you guys laughing at?

Rhon G: Look Phil. None of this, is in the play. Now I put a lot of time into this play and would really appreciate it if you would, you know, follow the script. 

Phil Stares out into the audience. The light goes to his eyes as god turns back to the party. Phil stares for a moment then turns around and sits back down at the table. With his head in his hands he yells 

Phil: LINE! 

Guy with a cue-card steps out from the side and shows it to Phil so the audience can see it 

Cue-card guy: So you are the creator of the universe then. And this is all a joke.

Phil: In a tired and defeated voice So you are the creator of the universe, God. And all this is an elaborate joke and laughs hard and long But me, I've been planning this party for weeks now and nobody seems to care. 

God: No Phil It's all real. You've done a great job. But I think that maybe this is what I've worried about all this time. I guess the world is doing ok and As the side tables of food and drink get placed food crew get slightly louder, not as careful. Talking saying is it ready improve at this point. Ask people closest if they want a drink or a bit to come and get it. Actors on stage will have to compensate at this point that people do look out for one another every so often and that in the long run will all do fine. Right Rhon? 

Rhon: What's this God?

God:  Not you. Quiet voice Rhon. Rhon Grenon. I'm a little worried. I'm a little scared how does this all end? 

Silence from the audience 

God: Softly Mr. G? How does this all end? The party. 

Rhon G: Louder God, we can't hear you! 

God: How does this all end? 

God pauses no one says anything, makes his way slowly with Tammy and Death. They all leave out the front door 

Phil: What was that? 

Rhon: Huh? 

Liz: Where were we? 

Zoe: What was that? 

Dr. Segal:  We have just witnessed something miraculous. 

Rhon: What was it? 

Liz: Yes, what ?

Phil: It's a pretty good party, isn't it? 

Rhon: I've had a blast. 

Liz: Are we purposefully not talking about God being here? 

Phil:  Who? 

Rhon:  Who? 

Zoe:  Who? 

Dr. Segal: Who? 

Liz: Okay. Who? 

Phil: Much better. Welcome to my party. There are more people to come, I welcome you all with open arms. I think. We'll just wait and see what happens next.

Party Continues this will grow from page 58 any free hands will join on stage at this point and help pull friends and family up or to tables on the side lights will finally rise full in the audience. But will happen slowly from page 58. so subtle you cant notice it should take about 7 minutes till full. All Chartres even ones that left will come back and join in the fun. Make small talk, engage people full talking now, normal voice. Some will dance and lots of laughter. Create a real party. The goal is to make an amazing transition into real life., the goal is to have no one clap no ending to the play. All behind the scene crews will join now eat, talk about the play enjoy the success of what has happened and let go of the reality that has been created. If we do this right we will blur the lines and will give the audience an experience of a lifetime. Thank you for all your hard work and bask in the wonderful thing you have created 

One last thing as the music plays God will read “New.” As long as he wants. A key style writing that challenges the way you think. Join the party when the timing is right for you 

God: It isn't love, but it is better than nothing. As monsters run wild inside of me. I can feel your soul. But the question is. If dimensional shifts are a real construct of a multi-verse, and all possibilities are real. Then it lends itself not only to experience all aspects of love and loss. But as prophets say, to be everyone in every situation and experience all realities. Maybe the true nature of love is the sadness of what we already know to be true. And that is to hold on to hope. That in this moment of fleeting desire we seek it to be different than all realities that we have witnessed before. Or maybe it's just dumb luck, and being stupid with the choices we make that end up breaking the continuity necessary to find that one willing to work as hard as you do to make love last... 

Is that the meaning of existence? 

Do you think I can see your soul?

Do we choose what to forget? 

Are you the answer to the question I have asked all my life? 

Forgotten along the way no place is safe for us to lay our weary head. Two hearts beating. Is this all we know? I tell you now we are not ready for the truth. As far as I can tell we hide from what is offered all around us. Every part of the world is angry at what is to come. But high with our heads in the sand as a fee is paid to crazy... Raise the Goddamn alarm, both middle fingers raising to the sky. One question we haven't been able to answer yet is how do we break the chains of capitalistic greed? Enslaving all that buy into a system of empty promises and high hopes. Since when do we allow corporations to decide in the matters of love, freedom, free-will, ideas, health, science, passions, morals, values, environment and life? A marketing wet dream of sheeple walking doe eyed into the grinder. Homogenized pale realities swallowing one red pill at a time. Laughing the whole way loudly, blinders on, crying inside, screaming for sweet release. How can I explain the infinite to you if we can't grasp the lack of survival we seem to adapted to without a touch of nature. 

Feather touches the mind of entropy, brushing utopia around the corner. Ideas and ideals brought forth by constant thoughts hell bent on saving humanity. As the masses fight tooth and nail to destroy all that we know. A collective autistic nature, allowing institutions to lead us down a path of paranoia and greed. Selling phantom pocket ringtones, created in the cerebral cortex a basic animal instinct to be sold bought controlled keeping us further from our true self. Keeping us yearning for connection, even if its forgotten in the depths of time. Warning signs of cold nights to keeps us safe and alive. Are we getting better generation after generation? Right now we seem to collectively want a reset but don't know how to accomplish this task. A hard reboot. But the system has grown past anyone's self control. We hope that religion will guide us to the next time. Laughing that this is the start of the road to ruin. Fulfilling the prophecy that we decided long ago that we do not want to be here any longer. 

How is it possible that the masses have decided this delusional state of mind? Willing to challenge life itself to its very core. Does cancer know of its existence? Manipulation of idol passive conquests. Steer us into non-reality voids. Painting colour apon colour. As our perception gives way to chaos. Disintegrating terror gives us hope that we are not sheep that we really are. Safety in anxiety of a world gone mad, we have watch all empires fall.

Wheels grinding , screeching and folding as humanity is perforated into bite size portions. Fed miss-information, lies and miss-steps. Taking us to the brink of loss. 

Two minutes to twelve... 

Extinction grows closer… 

Pockets of us see a clear path a picture if you will. How to wake us up to survive. Answering questions on how to build on what has been destroyed. The more we hold on to our own reality and try to control it. The more we lose control of the awesome nature that life it self has to offer. We have to start to understand our nature. The will to feel what is real all around us. Seeking those moments of clarity wrapped in a soft blanket and a warm hot chocolate. Mother is coming folks. She is waking up. She will set us straight once again. On a paths of balance one way or another she will show us what her truest self is. Holding our hand like impetuous children we are. Time out, nose in the corner, looking over our shoulder waiting for the punishment to end. But my dear reader/ listener. I paint an easy picture in your head. If we pick our fight now... 

If we wait. We will see the witch rise and all hell will break loose. A wash of fury that not one human in the existence of humanity has ever seen. It will be a cleansing like no other. There will be no record to keep. Now idols to worship. Not one person will be safe. Some may survive, some may even grow. But not like now. Time will have wiped the memories clean. You know I'm right. Think about it my friend. Inside you is the actual light of the universe longing to know itself. 

It isn't love, but it is better than nothing. As monsters run wild inside of me. I can feel your soul. But the question is. If dimensional shifts are a real construct of a multi-verse, and all possibilities are real. Then it lends itself not only to experience all aspects of love and loss. But as prophets say, to be everyone in every situation and experience all realities. Maybe the true nature of love is the sadness of what we already know to be true. And that is to hold on to hope. That in this moment of fleeting desire we seek it to be different than all realities that we have witnessed before. I once heard, dreaming of what the world has taught me about love. Soothing complex fears wrapped in a neatly, tight, red ribbon. In that vision of truth. Don't ever question the deep burden I carry for you. My passion for you encompasses all. Let the dimensions cry for sweet release. It has given us the only way we can be who we need to be. Can it be as simple as you expect it to be? Passions remembered. Never giving up, never willing to fall. Making sure that all left behind will learn the lesson of true love. Beyond all expectations, beyond all hope. It isn't love, but it is better than nothing. I once heard. Dreaming of what the world has taught me about love. As monsters run wild inside of me. Soothing complex fears wrapped in a neatly, tight, red ribbon. I can feel your soul. In that vision of truth. But the question is. Don't ever question the deep burden I carry for you. If dimensional shifts are a real construct of a multiverse, My passion for you encompasses all. And all possibilities are real. Let the dimensions cry for sweet release. Then it lends itself not only to experience all aspects of love and loss. It has given us the only way we can be who we need to be. But as prophets say, to be everyone in every situation and experience all realities. Can it be as simple as you expect it to be? Maybe the true nature of love is the sadness of what we already know to be true. Passions remembered. And that is to hold on to hope. Never giving up, never willing to fail. That in this moment of fleeting desire we seek it to be different than all realities that we have witnessed before. Making sure that all left behind will learn the lesson of true love. We are the grandest illusion ever created. Beyond all expectations, beyond all hope. Stepped in, time is up, here we go! Feel the wind on your face, the sun in your eyes. Blue all around you. Paradise found. 

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 11

WARNINGS: some smut, bad language, that’s about it

Tagging: @alievans007, @valkyrie-of-the-light, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

@valkyrie-of-the-light  there’s cute Tyler/Esme relationship stuff in here just for you ;)

The kids come running as soon as they hear the SUV pull into the driveway, and he barely has one foot on the ground before they are throwing themselves at him for attention. All three soaked from head to toe, clad in bathing suits and life jackets. Each wanting their hug and a kiss in between talking over each other as they excitedly babbled about Ovi taking them down to the creek out back. It’s normally an area that’s entirely off limits without one of their parents with them, and Ovi looks momentarily panicked at the realization that the kids just completely threw him under the bus.

“Esme said it was okay,” he quickly explains. “As long as they had life jackets on and I was watchful.”

“We’re being really careful, daddy,” Millie chimes in, immediately jumping to the teenager’s defense. “Ovi wouldn’t let anything bad happen to us.”

There are very few people that he actually trusts with his kids. His wife, naturally, Nik and Yaz (the latter is the quintessential uncle that doesn’t waste any time getting down on the floor or out in the muck to play whereas Nik doesn’t like the mess and noise that come with youngsters), and Ovi. He’d trusted him enough that day in the ice cream shop when’d first encountered the stranger from Chicago. He could have easily slipped into Ovi’s side of the booth so he was also facing the door; a rule that he’d developed on the job, as it was easier to assess a situation and thwart off a threat if you were staring it in the face. But he’d let the kid handle. And never once worrying that he couldn’t.

“You guys go on back,” Tyler tousles the twins’ hair, scoops Mille up and gives her a noisy kiss on the cheek before setting her back down again. “I’ll be out in a little bit. I need to talk for your mom for a bit, okay?”

All three nod, then Millie snatches Ovi by the hand and nearly yanks him clear out of his sandals as she pulls him towards the backyard, her brothers happily racing after her.

He gathers paper bags of groceries out of the back seat; using his hip to shut the door. And for the first time in the three years that they’ve lived there, he pauses to set the alarm on the SUV. It has always seemed so secure back where they are; nearly a thousand meters from the road, towering trees surrounding them like an impenetrable wall, no view of the actual house to any vehicles passing by. The remote feeling had been its biggest selling point; no curious eyes checking out the property or looking through windows. A perfect place for a family with a secret like theirs. A secret that came with a lot of burned bridges, revenge seeking enemies, and unknown dangers lurking in the darkness. He’d never once felt unsettled living there; it was their own slice of heaven and a well-deserved break from the craziness that often surrounded them.  It was as if those trees and that distance from other humanity made them invincible.

The talk with his mother in law has made him uneasy.  The truth was out there now, and while at first his confession had felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted off his shoulders, now it ate away at him. He questions whether or not if had been the right decision; it was something he kept to himself in order to protect people, not deceive them. And the less people who knew about who he actually is, the better.

It wasn’t his safety that he was worried about. He’d long ago discovered that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. It was the safety of those who were most vulnerable. Innocent. Who hadn’t asked to be brought into this world; to have the father that they do.  And maybe the mother in law was right. Maybe it is selfish on his part: to bring children into the world while living the life that he does.  To leave them alone and vulnerable while he goes off to fight to someone else’s fight. Willingly putting them at risk.

It had never been his attention; putting targets on their backs. He’s always felt as if he’d found that perfect balance between the job and having a family.  When he was home that other Tyler didn’t exist; he sat quietly in the background, ready and willing to make an appearance when the time was right. At home he could concentrate on actually being happy, a normal life with a wife and kids and a regular job.  No one ever had a reason to question who he was; just seen as a normal guy with a family.

But now the truth is out there. And it doesn’t matter if it’s just one person who knows it or a hundred. The words have been spoken and the confession had come spilling forth and whether he likes it nor, there will be consequences to pay.

There always are.

****

Mac greets him as he steps through the front door, weaving between his legs, tail happily wagging. And after he toes of his boots, he sets the groceries down and crouches in front of the dog; offering belly rubs and scratches under the chin and behind the ears, then giving him a handful of treats from the groceries he’s brought home. Knees cracking noisily as he stands, and he pauses momentarily to lock the latch on the screen door. Something he’s never done aside from at night when everyone heads to bed. And he hates himself for it; for feeling that hint of paranoia that suddenly nibbles away at him.

What the fuck have you done? He thinks, a scowl on his face. What in the actual fuck have you done? As good as it had felt to tell his mother in law the truth, he knows that it was probably the second biggest screw up of his entire life.

His wife is in the kitchen, busying herself at the island as various pots and pans of food bubble and sizzle on the stove.  Clad in a t-shirt that’s tied in a knot at her waist a pair of yoga shorts that fit like second skin; every curve of her ass and hips on display, showing off that colourful tattoo that starts at the top of her right foot and wraps its way all the way around her calf and stops just below the knee.  Busily and intently chopping vegetables and dropping them into a large plastic bowl, oblivious to anything and everything going around her thanks to the air pods blasting music into her ears. Not even reacting when he drops the bags on the adjacent counter and then stands behind her, placing his hands on her hips and pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck.

She nearly jumps clear out of her skin, and he’s chuckling as she plucks the pods out of her ears and turns around to punch him in the gut. “You scared the ever-loving shit out of me! Jesus Christ, Tyler!”

“You looked totally into whatever you’re doing there and I didn’t want to disturb you. Looking all cute being domestic and shit. I told you I’d turn you into an honest woman.”

“I always knew your devious plan was to keep me barefoot and pregnant,” she says, as she turns back to the task at hand. “Not that the last part is happening right now. But if you have your way…”

“If I had my way, we’d have an even dozen.”

“There is something seriously wrong with you. Whatever happened to ‘once we have the twins, that’s enough. I won’t want any more’?. Because I distinctly remember you saying those exact words. You were perfectly happy with three.”

“That’s until they were born. Once that happened, I changed my mind.”

It is an amazing thing, watching the love of your life growing bigger with your child. And then being able to witness that baby…or babies…being brought into this world. Enduring months of extreme sickness and nearly twenty hours of labour had cemented her status as the strongest, bravest woman…person…he’s ever known.

“What’s going on here?” he asks and helps himself to a piece of cucumber. “You going all Martha Stewart on me?”

“Please,” she snorts. “Martha Stewart I am not. I don’t even know why I’m even feeling so pressed about this. It’s just some random girl that Ovi is bringing over. It’s no one terribly important. Why the hell am I going to so much trouble to impress her? It’s not like I actually care if she likes me or if she thinks the house is clean enough or if she wonders if the kids really are the spawn of Satan. Speaking of which…” she points the knife in the direction of the backyard and continues her rambling. “…if you could actually give your children all a bath when they come in because your sons are starting to smell just as bad as the chickens and the goats and they’re only four and should not smell like you on your worst day. And can you please trim Tyler’s nails because holy shit I don’t know what he does to get all the crap under there but…”

Hands on her hips, he turns her around to face him. Eyes momentarily searching hers before cradling her face in his palms and kissing her. Long and soft. Slow and sweet. Closed mouth upon closed mouth. And he feels all the tension and nerves just escape her body; her muscles relaxing and her hands coming up to rest on his forearms.

“Mmmm…” she’s smiling when it’s over, eyes closed. “...that was nice. What was that for? To get me to shut up?”

“You know me, I would have just told you to shut the fuck up.”

And he has. Many times. The incessant rambling is cute. But when they get into an argument and she just won’t stop riding his ass about stupid shit, well that’s when he gets a little testy.  Both have fiery tempers; he takes longer to get to the point of exploding, whereas she just loses it right off the hop.

And neither of them like to back down from a challenge. Or admit when they’re wrong.

“I just wanted to kiss you,” he says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Do I need a reason to kiss my wife?”

Her eyes are sparkling as she smiles up at him, her hands still on his forearms as she leans back against the counter.

Fuck, she’s beautiful when she smiles. Well, all the time really. But when she smiles there’s just something so different about her. The way her entire face brightens and the bridge of her nose crinkles. And it isn’t just a normal smile. One that she uses with everyone she comes across. No. This is a smile that’s reserved only for him. It’s soft and pure and full of so much love and adoration that it’s almost enough to take his breath away.

“You’re not usually the kind of guy that does things for no reason,” she teases, as her fingertips slowly drift along his arms, all the way up to his elbows and then back down again. Traveling over the top of his hands and along his fingers. “Kiss me again.”

He happily obliges. One hand sliding to the nape of the neck as he pulls her into him. The second kiss quickly transforming into something more; intense and hungry, her tongue aggressively pushing its way into his mouth and her hands moving to the front of his t-shirt, tightly gripping the thin fabric.  And this time it’s his turn to pull away first, a smirk on his face.

“You shouldn’t kiss me like that,” he playfully scolds.

“I can’t help it if you’re a six-foot three walking ball of hormones. Besides, I thought you liked when I kissed you like that.”

“I do. But I like it a little too much.”

“How much?” her eyes sparkle mischievously as she brushes a hand over his fabric covered crotch, an eyebrow shooting up as she discovers the truth behind his words. “Well…well…well…” she drawls. “…Tyler Rake…I’m both flattered and extremely impressed.”

“You’re a bad fucking influence,” he smirks, and backs away when she reaches for his belt. “Have you been drinking? Are you drunk?”

“Not yet. But I am ovulating. So…”

“You actually caved and used one of those tests didn’t you.”

“I did. And it says it’s the perfect time. So…” her hand slides up the front of his shirt, two fingers dipping below the waist of his jeans. “...let’s make a baby. Or have fun trying at least.”

“Right now? Like right this second?”

“The kids are outside with Ovi. They won’t come in. We’ll hear them before we do. Get your shit together, Tyler. You should be flattered you have a wife that wants to jump your bones as much as she does.”

“Yeah, I think there’s evidence right there showing how flattered I actually am.”

“If you keep dragging your heels like this, I’m going to get seriously offended. I’m going to think that you’re just not that into me anymore. That maybe you’ve found someone else.”

“Stop that shit. You know that’s not true. There is no one else. There never will be anyone else.”

“Then stop giving me a complex. You don’t want to insult my delicate feelings do you?”

“You delicate?” he snorts. “Excuse me, have we met?”

“You want a baby and my body is saying that now is the prime time,” she slides his belt out of the buckle, fingers on the button of his jeans. “So unless you want totally waste a perfect moment...”

He groans when her hand slips down the front of his pants and his boxers, cupping his thick, hard length and running her thumb over the head.  A smirk on her face when she brings her hand to her mouth, eyes never leaving his as she licks the precum off of her thumb.

That’s all it takes. His mouth crashes down on hers, a hand on the back of her head he uses his body weight to propel her across the room and down the hall, his free hand tightly gripping her ass he pushes her into the small spare bathroom.

***

“This might be the only place we haven’t christened yet,” she says, as his lips and tongue feast on the side of her neck and his hands aggressively shove her shorts down over her ass and hips.

“Well I guess that’s about the change. No underwear? Seriously?”

“You can see the lines through these shorts,” she reasons, and then giggles when his arm curls around her waist and he effortlessly lifts her up and drops her on the counter. “That and I was totally planning on seducing you the second you walked in the door. It worked, right?”

“A little too well,” he yanks the shorts down her legs and over her ankles, tossing them to the floor. Leaning over to place soft, wet kisses on her smooth thighs. Dropping to his knees and pushing her legs apart,

“Like I said…” her fingers deftly working at the button and zipper of his jeans. “…six-foot three walking ball of hormones. I really do hope this is your version of a midlife crisis because...” her words are cut off by a long, soft moan as his tongue pushes its way through her moist folds and finds her clit. Suckling and licking at it until her wetness pools underneath and coats his lips and his beard.  “…shit…” she breathes, her hands in his hair. “…Tyler…you’re so good at this…so fucking good.”

He pulls back, breathing a cool, steady stream of air right onto her clit, and she cries out and tightens her hold on his hair. Hips sliding forwards, encouraging him to continue. Then mewling with disappointment when he stops all together and stands.

“Tease,” she pouts, and he kicks off his jeans and boxers and once more curls an arm around her waist. Yanking her towards him, a hand on his cock as he guides himself towards her opening.  And she gasps at that initial penetration. Even after five years together, that sensation is incredible. The way he feels inside of her; how her muscles have to stretch to accommodate him.

It’s a quick and crude coupling. Her ass in his palms, her forehead against his shoulder, their breathing ragged and their chests heaving as he slams into her. His hand eventually sneaking in between them to rub at her clit as he fucks her. A frantic pace to his fingers, applying just the right of amount of pressure that has her orgasm hitting hard and fast. Her teeth digging straight through the fabric of his shirt and breaking the skin underneath.

“Fuck…” he grounds out, both at the sharp sudden pain of the bite and the way those inner muscles of hers contract around his cock. Thrusts growing erratic and sloppy until his head falls forward and her name escapes his lips and she feels the warmth that baths her insides.

For several minutes neither of them speak. His forehead against her shoulder, enjoying the sensation of her hands combing through his hair. The way she slowly lets those longer strands slip between her fingers. Then he pulls back and kisses her, a grin on his face as he regards her sweaty, glowing face.

“If that doesn’t put a baby in you, nothing will.”

***

“She seems nice,” Esme comments three hours later, as they work together to get the food out to the back deck.

Both are showered and freshened up, her in a cotton sundress with thin straps that crisscross at the back; red with white and yellow flowers, stopping just below the knee. He in a pair of khaki pants (the one she swears hug his ass ‘just right) and a thin button down light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

Chloe isn’t what she expected; a tall, leggy and willowy red head with stunning green eyes, short cropped hair and a killer body that she keeps hidden under modest clothing.

“Did you know she looked like that?” she nods towards the backyard, where their guest is entertaining the kids on the wooden playset. Her laughter -and theirs- floating on the breeze.

“Like what?”

“Like that. I think I have a girl crush. She’s hot! Her body is wickedly good.”

“Do I have to worry about you switching other to the other side?” he teases and leans in to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Who says I haven’t already.”

Tyler’s eyes widen.

“The first year of the Marines was a wild time,” she says in self defense. “I’m starting to understand why Ovi is so caught up. Look how good she is with the kids.”

“She owns her own day care. It’s what she does. You expected her to be terrible with them?”

“I expected her to wonder what kind of feral hellions we raise around here,” she jokes. “They’re savages. Like their father,” she directs a playful elbow to his ribs. “Come on, you can admit it. She’s hot.”

“I’m not admitting to anything. Because right now it might be okay. But tonight, after you’ve got wine in you, there’ll be hell to pay because you’ll freak out about me finding another woman attractive. So I’m not saying shit. I’ve learned to pick my battles.”

“Please,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m not naïve. I know you find other women attractive. The same way I find other men attractive.”

“I don’t want to hear this. I don’t know who you find attractive. Can’t you just let me live in my own happy little world full of denial?” Of course he knows other men…and probably some women…find his wife attractive. But it doesn’t mean he actually likes to think about it. He’d never considered himself the jealous and possessive type. Until her.

“As long as you’re coming to my bed…our bed…that’s all that matters. It’s human nature,” she continues, as she gathers up bowls of food and follows him to the open patio door. “So do you?” she presses, as she follows him outside. Arranging the food on the large patio table. “Think she’s hot?”

“We are not having this conversation. This won’t end well for me. This is not the hill I want to die on.”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” she says, and he grins and leans in to kiss her.

He refills her wine glass, then takes his beer over to the BBQ in the corner.

“You’re kind of sexy,” his wife observes as she joins him, leaning against the deck railing. “It’s hot when you do normal guy shit.”

“Normal guy shit? As opposed to what other kind of shit?”

“Oh you know. Punching people in the throat. Breaking their necks. Impaling them with garden rakes. That side is enormously sexy in a very strange and disturbing way. I should not find that as much of a turn on as I do.”

“You’ve got fucking issues,” he teases, and swigs his beer.

“You think?” her eyes sparkle playfully. “Look who I married. If that doesn’t say issues, I don’t know what does. But I mean normal guy stuff that normal guys do. Fix shit around the house, take out the garbage, kill the spiders, change dirty diapers, play with your kids. That kind of stuff. Play with your meat.”

“What the fuck…” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“I meant the meat you’re cooking. Jesus Christ, Tyler. Get your mind out of the gutter for five seconds, would you?” she sips her wine, eyes narrowing against the sun as she watches Chloe chase the kids around in her bare feet. “She’s like a mix of a Suicide Girl and Mary Poppins. It’s strange and unsettling but amazing all at the same time.”

“You need to get out of the house more. I’m starting to worry about you. Like legit worry. There is something not quite right upstairs.”

“You’re five years into the marriage and you’re just realizing that now? Have you been napping all this time?” she teases. “Ovi seems crazy about her. Look at the way he watches her and hangs on every move. It makes me both nauseous and proud at the same time. Like I’m watching my son become a man right before my very eyes.”

Her son. It’s the first time she’s ever called him that. At least out loud.

“You know who else looks at the woman he loves like that?”

“Please don’t say it,” Tyler begs. “Just don’t.”

“You’re very sensitive when it comes to the feels, aren’t you. You don’t like to talk about these things.”

“I like to feel them. Not talk about them.”

“You’re such an alpha male,” she says, and takes another sip of wine. “You can deny it all you want, Tyler. I know you look at me that way. People tell me all the time.”

“Esme, please. Stop.”

“Everyone notices it. Even Nik. And she hates the feels more than you do. She’s always going on and on about how it’s written all over your face and it’s in your eyes and…”

“Enough,” he silences her with a kiss. “You know I don’t like talking about this kind of stuff.”

It isn’t because he doesn’t feel them. Or that he isn’t aware that it’s all true. But when the reality of those feelings are put out there, a second reality accompanies them: the thought of what would happen and how he would cope if she suddenly ceased to exist. If one day he woke up and she wasn’t there anymore. And it terrifies him. To think of a world without her in it.

Not that he’d ever admit to that, either.

“You know what burns my ass though,” she says. “The way she calls me Mrs Rake.”

“Why? That is your literally your name. You legally changed your last name to mine.”

“It makes me feel so old. I’m not even forty yet. Now that’s old.”

He smirks. “I swear to God, keep it up with the old man jokes and cheap shots and I will you choke you out right here.”

“Like the fun, sexy choking out or the bad choking out?” she counters, giggling against his lips when he kisses her and digs his teeth into her bottom lip. “I wonder how long this will last,” she observes Chloe once again; her and Ovi -with Declan on his hip- hand in hand as they follow the kids over to the chickens and goats. “Maybe they’ll get married.”

“You’ve had what? Two glasses of wine and you’re already talking about this kind of shit?”

“Oh I’m sorry. Old men don’t like to hear about those things. They don’t like to talk about the feels. They think it emasculates them and their wives will start carrying around their balls in their purses.”

He shakes his head, then reaches out and places his hand around her throat. Not in malice. Playful. Just a soft press of his fingers into her flesh. It’s how it all started back in that hotel room in Dhaka, his hand around her throat as they argued, and she just keep pushing him and pushing him until he snapped. Losing all sense of control and every ounce of will power and just taking her right there and then.

Now he leans down to kiss her. Long. Soft. Gentle. Then pecks her forehead and removes his hand and returns to the various meats sizzling on the BBQ.

“They’d have cute kids,” she finishes her drink in one gulp.

“Let them have sex first, okay? That has to happen in order for them to have kids.”

“You should know. You’re kind of an expert on knocking someone up,” she chides. “See baby, you do have multiple skill sets. You’re a lover and a fighter. And people wonder I locked that shit down so quick. Well, that and the sex is incredible, and you have a huge…”

His cell phone…the private line…brings an abrupt end to the conversation, and he pulls it from the pocket of his khakis and checks the call display.

“Nik?” she asks, when she notices the frown that plays on his lips.

He lets it go to voice mail, phone in hand as he waits for the inevitable. A text message that comes in less than a minute later. “She says she’ll be here tomorrow at noon. And that Yaz is bringing tons of chocolate for the kids and apologizes in advance if they spend tomorrow night bouncing off the walls.”

“What does she want? I thought you told her you wanted two weeks off? I thought she agreed to it?”

“She did. She isn’t calling me about a job. She’s calling about the job. She says there’s something she wants to talk to me about. A business opportunity.”

“That can only translate to ‘I’ve got a job with a huge pay out if you want it’.”

“I already told her that I don’t give a shit how much someone is offering; I’m not taking anything for at least two weeks. I want to spend time with my wife and my kids. And if she doesn’t like that, she can fuck off. She knew when I got back in the game that you and my children come first.”

“So what could it be about then? It’s not like Nik to keep secrets this long. Maybe she’s met someone and needs some time off and wants you to run things. Or maybe…and just hear me out…she’s pregnant.”

“This is Nik we’re talking about.”

“So? She’s probably very fertile. She’s at prime baby making age.”

“What is wrong with you? I meant that she hates kids.”

“Well I wasn’t necessarily too fond on of them until someone…I won’t name names and throw anyone under the bus here… didn’t remember that such a thing as condoms existed. And now, here we are. All domestic and shit.”

“Don’t blame it on me. I told you your blow job game is strong enough to rob me of brain cells. For fuck sakes Nik…” he mutters, as the text messages keep pouring in.  This time he leaves the BBQ in favour of leaning against the railing beside his wife, letting her read them for herself.

The guy you asked about isn’t who he says he is. He’s not from Chicago. He’s from Belfast, Northern Ireland. His name is Michael O’Mann. And he’s ex IRA.

“Irish Republican Army?” Esme frowns. “Have you ever dealt with them before?”

“Never. I’d remember that. You don’t forget a group like them.”

I tracked him down. Spoke to him. He isn’t here to hurt you. Or your family. He’s here to meet you. He wants to talk to you.

“Okay, this is starting to sound worse than I anticipated,” Esme frets.

They have his wife and his kids. He needs your help.

[manunkinda]

So, I’m watching the Heathers 2018 reboot to take notes. I plan to do a video essay after I finish the series.

I regret starting this.

Anyway, here are a few my notes so far.

Heathers (2018) Notes:

⁃ I can’t believe I’m paying for this shit.

⁃ Wait, why is the pilot TV-14 when everything else is TV-MA?

⁃ Also, every single title of each episode is a quote from the movie. I don’t think “Hot probs” was though? Unless I’m missing something? I’ll have to watch the movie AND the musical after this to cleanse my brain.

⁃ Also why is the second episode $20 for HD?

⁃ THE RED SCRUNCHIE. SHANNON DORHERTY (who played Heather Duke in the original) IS IN THIS.

⁃ Yup, Shannon plays his mom. She’s waving and he’s waving back.

⁃ What the hell is this intro?

⁃ [ethereal electronic music]

⁃ Okay, so this is Veronica... Who should really be a Heather.

⁃ I can’t stop laughing at the Khloe Kardashian quote.

⁃ [moody electronic music]

⁃ See, the thing is, is that Veronica had sturdy morals from the beginning. She had a sense of who she was, just not what she wanted. J.D. manipulated her into briefly losing her morals. So, it doesn’t make sense for Veronica to not know who she is.

⁃ I’m pretty sure you can’t ask a student if they’re a hermaphodite. Most colleges don’t care about that anyway.

⁃ Jason Dean’s in the background staring her down during the locker scene and they haven’t actually introduced him.

⁃ Betty’s in this apparently, but not Martha? Because since Chandler is plus-sized, that whole thing wouldn’t work anyway, right?

⁃ [moody finger snaps]

⁃ I can’t believe there’s a song where the lyrics are: “Picture this, I’m a bag of dicks.” “I will punch a baby bear in his shit.”

⁃ Okay, while I clearly appreciate LGBT+ and minority representation in the media, Heathers is the wrong story to use it. In this, the representation is villainized while two white people try to kill them off. That’s complete missing the mark and the lesson of the original, and hell, even the musical.

⁃ Chandler would get dress coded for that outfit. Middle finger choker AND those fishnets, yup.

⁃ “How Banana Republic.” whAT DOES THAT MEAN

⁃ KURT SEEING THE HEATHERS WITH RAM AND NOPING THE FUCK OUT OF THERE IS ME.

⁃ “Remington Squaws.” Look, Ram would also get dress coded for this.

⁃ Also, the reason why “mean girls” like the Heathers and the Plastics were popular is because they were nice to your face, and then would talk shit about you behind your back.

⁃ the finger snaps are rotting my brain already.

⁃ “I’m gonna get a soda.” Proceeds to get a bag of chips.

⁃ oh god JD approached Veronica. What the fuck are they saying by the way? “Meet the new boss?” WTF?

⁃ “I’m not a rebel, Veronica.” The original JD would disagree with that.

⁃ He ends up calling Veronica “my dear” within the first two minutes.

⁃ Heather Duke would be an interesting character if he wasn’t named Heather Duke.

⁃ snappy snack shack looks like a discount Snappy Snack Shack.

⁃ Heather McNamera with their teacher? In public? In the car? No one would be so obvious like that about banging their teacher.

⁃ “Great hummus, but I gotta Tesla.”

⁃ “Such an UGG boot latte sometimes.”

⁃ Did she and Jacob hook up in his car? Idk, all I see is leg and Veronica is checking Chandler’s insta. She did end up posting the pic of Ram in the Remington shirt, but I don’t think he was smiling.

⁃ “What is your father wound, Heather?”

⁃ Veronica just shoulder checked her, which honestly isn’t the same as throwing up on someone’s shoes.

⁃ Chandler got fake drain cleaner from an art thing all over her dress.

⁃ “Lick it up, fatty. Lick. It. Up.” Is nothing compared to the original line. Also, fat-phobic much?

⁃ “My dear” again. That’s twice now and it’s already getting old. The thing is, in the original, JD and Veronica never called each other pet names, except for one time. For JD, it was right before Veronica broke up with him. “Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling.” And for Veronica, it was right before she shot JD in the boiler room. “You know what I want, babe? Cool guys like you out of my life.”

⁃ “Let’s snort Adderall, make out, and get slushies.”

⁃ So is Kurt actually gay in this or?

⁃ This JD and Veronica has no chemistry whatsoever.

⁃ I dare JD to throw a better party at the discount Snappy Snack Shack where the cashier won’t yell at you.

⁃ Also, this JD reminds me of Riverdale’s Jughead, but if his personality was the weirdo monologue.

⁃ Those are some weak ass slushies. They’re so watery.

⁃ I was not expecting the fucking bubble gun.

⁃ His dad collects Nazi stuff apparently. Big yikes.

⁃ What are the dolls in Chandler’s room? Why are they on her shelf like that and organized by skin color?

⁃ “Prince Harry me as revenge.”

⁃ Where was that table she fell into in the other shots?

⁃ He gave her the suicide pills by mistake, Big oops.

⁃ “I’m going to be experimenting with lesbianism in San Quentin instead of Sarah Lawrence.”

⁃ “That’s my girl.”

Director: Do a proud smile!

⁃ Duke posted the photo of McNamara with the teacher because they were arguing who would give the eulogy.

⁃ “Isn’t hating on someone for being a murderer equally as rude?” No, it’s not.

⁃ Why is JD wearing sunglasses inside? That just makes him even more guilty.

⁃ Betty is trying to stake her claim on Chandler’s position.

⁃ I honestly wouldn’t mind if the Heathers were Betty and these two girls originally.

⁃ “Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” THEY USED THE LINE and not in a great context.

⁃ And we meet JD’s dad.

⁃ Also, he’s using the Shake Weight and I can’t stop laughing. I’m so distracted by it.

⁃ “Well, son, your presence here has been lovely as usual, but if you don’t mind, my girlfriend and I would like to start having sexual intercourse now.” Right in front of my salad?

⁃ [somber bell music]

⁃ Heather Chandler’s still alive?! Holy shit! She’s been laying there the whole day. She would’ve been dead by now!

⁃ Oh gross, vomit.

⁃ And her phone’s blowing up. Pun intended.

[swiftythewriter]

so, i’m supposed to be studying and def not be on social media rn but i am legit tearing up about Martha Jones and what she means to me as a character that i’m just going to try and to write this out so i can hopefully focus

to get one thing straight, Martha Jones is not my favorite character. i started watching DW when I was about twelve and tbh, for years after that i never really connected with her. it’s not too surprising since in terms of background, personality, and life experience (because, come on, i’m a lily white, only child shut in from the deep south) we had next to nothing in common. 

but.

out of all the characters that have been on the show, Martha Jones is solidly the one I want to live up to the most. 

maybe the reasons why are obvious, but they didn’t really crystallize to me till just now. the main one, for me, is that through out her arc her happiness did not depend on another person. even within her arc where she faced the consequences of her unrequited feelings, she still had this noticeable trait before she even said it out loud.

to go and break it down further, i believe there are several aspects to her personality that are important contributors in this: dedication, responsibility, and strong sense of self worth

dedication: this one seems pretty obvious, since when we are first introduced to Martha we are shown her position as a med student in her last year of residency. everyone with passing knowledge of what it takes to be a doctor knows this isn’t for the faint of heart. knowing just that we can already infer that she’s studious, hard working, and intelligent.

but it goes beyond that, as is continually shown throughout her arc. she becomes know as the “Woman Who Walked the Earth”, a title she got by literally walking around the earth for a year in an apocalyptic hellscape and never once wavering in completing in her mission. she didn’t just join but rose through the ranks of UNIT to the point where she was trusted with the Osterhagen key-quite literally the most important responsibility given to any single person at that point in human history.

and if we are talking about less dramatic examples, kindly take a look where Martha spent months undercover in an incredibly racist time period with absolutely no support despite there being actually no reason beyond Ten needing his little moral moment and yet not only managed to keep her spirits, but also is directly responsible for the Doctor’s plan not being any more of a clusterfuck than it already was. same story with “Blink”, where they both got trapped in the sixties and Martha once more had to stand up and handle things behind the scenes.

next, responsibility: this ties in really well with dedication and it can go double for all the things i listed above. the reason i think this is, is that as a result of her dedication and moral code, Martha tends to take on the problems set before her to the best of her abilities because she sees it as the right thing to do.  

but what i really want to look at is Martha’s sense of emotional responsibility, as in not the actions she takes but why she takes them. i feel like this is best seen in how she acts towards her family and is what really sets her apart from the other companions in the series. 

because you know what she does? she stays. her family needs her.

and here’s the ringer because name one character, one, since her that makes an active effort to maintain their relationships with their families when the Doctor comes to play. i can’t. really, i can’t

Donna? doesn’t count. she might love her family but when push comes to shove she was willing to die with the Doctor-or more accurately for who she became with the Doctor, than to live her life with them.

Rose? don’t make me laugh. she loves her mother to death, but not enough to choose her first.

Jack? no family to speak of at that point, but look how fast he leaves his friends at the very hint of the Doctor coming back into his life. yes, he has his immortality based reasons but there’s nothing about their scenes that doesn’t scream emotional.

Amy and Rory? i can count on one hand how many times the topic of relatives has come up for Amy and it still leaves me a finger left over for Rory. despite magically getting her parents back in her life she seems awfully unconcerned with their general existence. 

i’m also not entirely sure Rory has parents-or even connections, beyond his dad. he might have just sprung up in a field somewhere, and we’d never know. hey, maybe Amy wished him into existence a bit earlier than we all thought.

Clara? i’m almost certain she has parents. almost. like, she had an entire holiday dinner?? i’m pretty sure she mentioned her dad at some point?? but beyond the meet cute of how her parents got together, zilch. nada. she might as well have been an orphan.

Bill? okay she was actually an orphan but i don’t think she actually mentioned or contacted her foster mother after she moved out. not sure this counts tho. the Doctor was dading too hard to say she had no parents.

i admit the newest companions kind of break the mold but I still say it counts since the only familial connection Ryan and Graham try to maintain to between each other and while Yaz might be close to her family her life with the Doctor seems to be taking priority over both her career and how much she spends time connecting with her family.

honestly the only one that even comes close to subverting the pattern is Mickey and the only reason he doesn’t properly is because he didn’t have any living family before going to Pete’s world.

but even in the beginning Martha spends time actively maintaining her relationships with her family members. again, in her first episode we see her playing mediator for her family, and going on we see her doing her best to support her sister, be a good daughter to her mother, and keep her family connected through sheer will power at times. sure, the other companions have shown the appropriate concern when there’s threat to their loved ones lives, but Martha again subverts the mold when it becomes clear that she’s not willing to let them go. 

so, back to responsibility. 

you tie this with her morals and you get the result of a doctor that gives her last breaths to keep another person alive. 

you tie this with her dedication and you get the kind of person who will walk to the ends of the earth if she deems the cause good enough. 

and finally, if you tie this with her emotional connections, you have the kind of person that takes the hard, messy work of tying together a somewhat dysfunctional family with her bare hands.

so now we’ve reached a strong sense of self worth: this i think is present in all of her decisions in the show. like, her entire story arc as a companion was ended on the note that she discovered her self worth and that she shouldn’t made to be feeling like she’s second fiddle. but, again, i feel like this is shown clearly throughout her story line even if she didn’t consciously recognize it. 

the most obvious example i see on this kind of contrasts with the above one, and it is that Martha leaves. She chooses to go with the Doctor and see what’s out there. It’s not a decision her mother and perhaps the rest of her family would or does approve of and she still makes it.

she also, having taken the not so metaphorical leap of faith, chooses to pursue the Doctor romantically. that is something that i did not appreciate as a kid but respect the hell out of now. the sheer self confidence that it takes to not only approach your crush but pick yourself up after they don’t notice time and time again is absolutely incredible. we stan an absolute legend.

but back to my point, it would’ve been incredibly easy for Martha’s character to have been introduced as the stereotype of one of those people who go into medschool due to parental pressure. it could’ve even been supported by her background with her family and future character arc of discovering her worth.  but all those assertions evaporate the second she comes on screen. 

Why? Self worth. 

The concept that Martha could be pressured into her path in life is laughable. She perused medicine because she wanted to. It’s her passion. She didn’t have to say it out loud to be clear in her actions. 

Her family’s wants and opinions might have some weight because she respects them, but ultimately she doesn’t need their approval to make herself happy. Her teachers, peers and assumed friends at her school also had the same affect. 

Martha Jones went with the Doctor because she wanted to, and she stayed because she wanted to as well. Her choices are made to be the most fulfilling to herself. Yes, they are motivated by her responsibilities and dedication to see them through, but that is it-motivated. She does not need to live up to to the things people need from her to have fulfillment. 

See the choices she made after she left the Doctor if you want any indication. She enlisted in UNIT because she realized she could do more for the world than just be a doctor, and she decided she wanted to. She got into and out of an engagement because she was in touch with what made her happy and what didn’t. The choices she made during her time with UNIT were ones that she made not because the Doctor would approve-since she knew he wouldn’t, but were ones she reasoned were the best options forward. 

And finally, when Martha decided after the near end she didn’t want to be with UNIT anymore, she left and went to find something that she wanted to do more. 

i once read an excellent post that made the point that unlike other companions, Martha Jones never needed the Doctor, and it was absolutely right. In the end of the day, Martha Jones never needed anything but her own to hands to go and make the world a better place.

And you know what? At that, she is good.