#last nights were crazy we were fighting this terrifying elemental woman

[rendoesthedoodle]

very soft dream i had about us >w< star was playing some made up ds game while i snuggled him so so much

[19mrs-barnes17]

A Real Puzzle

Summary: You’re a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent on a walk home, your night is rudely interrupted

Part: 1/1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

Warnings: violence? none?

Word count: 1,592

A/N: Hello! I’m back in the groove of writing, so please send in requests!

~

The wind rippled through your hair and nipped at any exposed skin, sending a chill down your spine as you walked the streets. An edge to the air had you pulling your shoulder bag close to your frame and your eyes darting about the empty area. Dimly lit lights marked the pathway, stars hardly visible within the depths of the sky. The only comfort provided was a young woman jogging with her german shepherd ahead, a witness at the very least. But soon enough that comfort faded into the shadows. A clang from behind had you instinctively turning your head, your feet quickening their pace as you took in the dark empty. A shudder tickled your spine but you pressed onward. A heavy thud sounded to your left and you began to quicken your pace once again, too tired to deal with any bullshit tonight.

It was so quick you barely caught yourself in the fall, hands grappling for a hold but coming up with nothing but gravel. Flipping yourself on your back you stretched toward your wrapped ankles, fingers struggling to remove the blade from within your boot. Once it was cut you were quick to your feet, searching for your attacker in the velvet of the night. A dark, hooded figure emerged from the trees and was reeling back their chain to whip once again. You bolted between the trees, zig zagging as you ran across the muddy pathway. The ground was trying to swallow your shoes, in fact it almost did several times. 

“You’ve. Gotta. Be. Fucking. Kidding. Me.” It was simply your sort of luck to be attacked by some psycho with a chain whip, in the park, alone, at nine at night. Your endurance was holding but you had been out of work for months, your shoulder barely finished in its healing, and soon enough you knew it would run out. Shelter. You were in desperate need of a sanctuary and fast. An idea pinged inside your mind and you began to test your luck in the open, sprinting down alleyways and cutting corners. Sparks fly when the chain strikes the pavement in front of you, your feet halting momentarily but enough for the culprit to strike you across your right calf. A cry slipped from your lips as you turned to face your opponent, blade in hand.

They maintained a distance, which meant they were smart in keeping themselves in their element but could suggest they were weak in hand to hand. Maybe you were insane but you thought the risk was your only option, so you sprinted at them. Their shape suggested male, but underneath the cloak it was a tad difficult to confirm. Either way they were no novice in a fight, even in hand to hand they were quite formidable. However, you were more so. He was strong and relentless but you were quick and patient. You played your hand, one trick at a time, just as you were trained to. He was a talent, but he was no Natasha Romanoff. She made him seem less terrifying, for he was too reliant on his brutish strength whereas she believed in tactics. 

“Need a hand?” You were nearly thrown by the new voice, gruff but gentle, emanating from around the corner. After dealing a stun-like blow to the strangers head, your eyes glanced at the newcomer with intrigue. Shaking your head, you smirked softly at the man who had ‘come to your rescue’. He was exactly who you were hoping to find, but your pride was a bit wounded by his inquiry. 

“Not yet, just stand there and look pretty. Unless you’d like to speed this up by being his punching bag.” You sent a wink, ducking as the aggressor swung a left hook. A chuckle from your left and suddenly it was two on one, you allowed your partner to take the blunt of the blows while you strategize strikes. Two separate and simultaneous kicks to the chest and the assailant disappears into the alley. You half expect him to reappear with an attempted sneak attack, and yet the continued silence negates that theory. You venture cautiously, scanning the vacant alleyway before trailing up the walls and peering up at the rooftops. 

“You hear him?” Your eyes didn’t flicker down to the Devil of Hell’s kitchen, remaining above instead. He mutters a ‘no’ as he approaches, stalling for a moment before smirking slyly.

“What gave me away?” If you were being honest, it was the way he fought and how smooth his motions were. But, you weren’t being honest.

“Your voice for starters. And I’d recognize that sly smirk anywhere, Red.��� He seemed off put by the sudden nickname but only for a moment before leading you up the fire escape to his apartment. “You were just the blind crusader I was hoping to ‘bump’ into.”

“Aw shucks.” He removed his mask, walking to his kitchen and holding up a bottle of whiskey. You shook your head and he nodded in recollection. “Right, how’s the shoulder.”

“Super Doc!” He shook his head slightly, a soft smile stretching across his lips as he lifted your legs and sat underneath them. “Almost cleared, going through phys.”

There was a blanket of silence over the room, both of you likely thinking through the night’s event with great scrutiny. Who? Motive? Solo or Hired? Dozens of questions and theories compiled within your mind like an ever growing leaf pile in the fall. Something was eating at you, and you couldn’t fight it off. Swinging your feet off Matt’s lap you made your way to the windows, searching the skyline and eyeing the streets.

“He’s not here, I don’t hear him.” You turn to look at Matt, who now stood beside you, your eyes studying his features in the neon lighting. “How did you know I could hear like that?”

“I’ve seen the way you tilt your head when listening to people, and how you react to their words. At first I thought, ‘huh, he must hear their tone and judge from that’, but then I got to thinking about what would be a bigger tell.” You smirked softly and shrugged, knowing he could hear it well enough to decipher. “A heartbeat. Not a totally crazy theory considering the inhumans I’ve come across. Plus, it would account for your ability to be a human lie detector.” 

“I should’ve known you of all people would be able to put the puzzle together.” The smile he had plastered on his face had your chest tightening. 

“I’m fucking amazing at puzzles.” You rested your cheek on Matt’s shoulder and felt the vibrations of his laugh. “You laugh, but I’m serious. I’ve got mad puzzle skills.”

“That so?” You smirk, walking over to his kitchen and grabbing water from his fridge.

“Yes it is, mister I wear devil's horns in public and it's not a kink.” You pause and your smirk grows bigger. “Or is it?”

He throws a pillow at you but you catch it with ease and launch it back at his head. This was something you had missed over the past few months, you had been so preoccupied with your injury and regaining your footing that you had sort of ghosted your best friend. You sat back on the couch and wrapped your arms around Matt when he joined you.

“I’ve missed your kinky ass.” Matt smacked your head with a pillow but chuckled softly.

“I’ve missed you too, you gremlin.” You gasped, taking the pillow from his hand and holding it above his head. “You wouldn’t hit a mostly blind man, would you?”

“Oh absolutely, if that blind man is your dumbass.” 

***

Your neck cracked as you tilted your head from side to side, scanning the skyline once again out of habit. Mostly. You still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. But perhaps that was just Matt sneaking up on you. 

“Alright ninja, calm it with the sneaking.” You smacked his chest, smiling up at his bedhead. “I do not need to have a heart attack today.”

“You’re the former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Shouldn’t you be prepared for something like that?” He sighed softly as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “Still not here you creature of habit.”

“Gee, you sweet talker. Take me now.” There was a slight blush on his cheeks and you became increasingly more curious.

“We need to talk about what happened last night. I’m assuming you don’t know our friend in black.” His change in topic would not detour your subconscious as it rattled off suggestions of how to proceed with your newfound knowledge. 

“I’m afraid we skipped the small talk and I will definitely be swiping left.” Your stomach growled like an animal and the conversation halted while Matt offered to take you to breakfast. “Gasp. So soon?”

“I could just shove you out on the fire escape.” He smirked as you smacked him once again, but dropping it the moment you inched close.

“You love me too much Murdock.” His cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat before walking to his bedroom to change. “Oh, and Matt?”

“Yeah?” He called from his room, a shirt slipping over his scar littered torso. 

“You’re not the only one who can tell if a person’s heart rate spikes. I just winked in case you were wondering.” You giggled at the crimson overtaking the pale complexion of his cheeks. “It seems we have two conversations to have, Matty.”

~

Tags: @qtmeryr​ @broken-hearted-barnes​

Send asks to join tags!

[diyunho]

The Joker X Reader - “What Death Tastes Like” Part 2

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 1         Part 3        Part 4      Part 5

“That was very nice,” you whisper in The Joker’s ear. “I know you’re not sleeping,” you sigh and force yourself to get out of his bed after watching TV together for almost 3 hours. “I’m going, OK?” you whisper, not sure why he’s ignoring you. But you have a clue: he probably just wanted to avoid a huge fight with Emma or your father finding out about his cruel words regarding your illness. “Fine, whatever…” you admonish and exit the premises, upset he’s behaving like that since he offered truce a few hours ago. The King of Gotham is actually completely out, even if you believe otherwise.

It was awesome having him carry you in his arms and not protest when you kissed him; you have to admit you were disappointed he didn’t initiate anything once you ended up in his bed; you really thought he would. J let you snuggle to him and you hoped for more to happen, yet his lack of interest made you realize it was stupid to try and hint you wanted him. What is a 40-ish old man supposed to do with a 22 years old woman that playfully keeps flirting with him? In this case, obviously just enjoy a couple of movies which proved he doesn’t take into consideration your dumb crush.

The more you analyze this night, the more you’re inclined to vote for the exact opposite of what you did: you should have kept your mouth shut and refrain sharing intimate matters with him.

I guess sometimes genius truly skips a generation …

*************

3 Weeks Later

You didn’t come to the mansion in the last 3 weeks: when J woke up the next morning after your visit, you were gone. Emma informed him you waited for her to catch up and then went home; he wondered if you left because of what happened or if there was no reason for it at all. One thing’s for certain though: The Joker got the slight impression you evade him, especially since two days ago you dropped Emma off then raced out of the property in a hurry when you noticed he was coming out of the house. The skid marks on the pavement were a pretty clear sign you didn’t want to linger at the place you normally enjoyed hanging out at.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t mean you can escape The Clown Prince of Crime forever.

“OK,” Emma gives you a soft nudge in the restaurant owned by her parent. “You gotta help me out,” she pleads to a skeptical Y/N. “I insisted we have lunch here for a good reason: my dad brought his wacko-on-and-off-girlfriend and I can’t stand her; I need backup. Please flirt with him and say that stuff you usually say!” she giggles. “You have my blessing to go crazy, I swear you won’t hear a peep out of me! It will be hilarious to see her reaction!” she pushes you and it’s too late to escape the unwanted rendezvous you had no clue about until now.

You are already at the table and didn’t have a moment to take in your best friend’s proposal: you wish you had a warning about this plan of hers but Emma impulsiveness and surprise element runs in the family.

Maybe she thought you would love such a funny challenge…

Yeah… not really...

You know Mara anyway and bumping into her alongside J is not enjoyable to say the least, mainly due to the odd atmosphere you hope his daughter won’t notice.

“Hi daddy,” Emma pulls her chair and you take a seat by her muttering a faint hello.

“Hey kid!... … Miss Crane,” he sneers and you intensely stare at the menu in front of you without blinking.  

“I didn’t see you in forever,” Mara addresses you and you indifferently glare at her. “I must say you look terrific: you are glowing! What’s your secret?” she snickers and you duly inform:

“I’m dying. I’m sure you remember I have terminal cancer; my dad makes my meds and they do help somewhat, thus the glow.”

“As long as you’re not contagious,” the woman underlines and Emma gasps at her affirmation.

You smirk and reach over to touch her forearm, softly digging your nails in her skin.

“I am and now that I touched you, you’ll die too!”

You get up from the table while hearing The Joker saying something but your ears are ringing so you can’t discern a word.

“How can you say stuff like this?!” Emma reprimands and you calmly take a small ampule from your pocket, open it and pour some dust in the palm of your hand.

“I was just expressing a concern,” Mara gesticulates and you bend over, blowing the fine ashes in her face.

“What the fuck?!” she quickly brushes the ticklish powder off her cheeks, worried at your action. “What is this?!”

“Nightmare,” you scoff. “One of my father’s top products. I recently assisted him make it stronger and there’s no antidote. Don’t worry though, it won’t kill you and it will wear off in a few hours. Plus, it’s not contagious. Enjoy!” you leave the gathering and Emma follows, enraged things didn’t go as planned yet she can’t blame Y/N.

Since the restaurant is closed to the public due to his owner’s presence, there’s not a soul around besides J that can hear Mara’s terrified screams once the wicked hallucinogen kicks in: it’s called Nightmare for a good reason!

*************

6:02PM

“Knock, knock,” The Joker enters Scarecrow’s lab, already in a foul mood.

“Not a step further!” his movement gets halted. “Sterilize yourself if you want in: I’m making more capsules for Y/N,” Crane points at the numerous ingredients on the counter.

“Your lab is huge, if I stay right here…” J tries to convince Jonathan although he’s aware he has zero chances: it never succeeds but his stubbornness prompts him to fight the request each time.

“No!” your father firmly rejects the proposal. “Sterilize yourself and come help me!”

“Where’s your daughter?” The King of Gotham starts washing his hands in the sink by the glass sliding doors.

“She went to stay at the cabin. I got lectured,” your dad huffs, scolding in the next second: “You’re not done! More!” he commands and J reprises the cleaning process required by his very obliging host.

“Ugh,” he mumbles and continues. “Why did you get lectured?”

“Apparently, I buried myself in this place and she hates it. I also got threatened that if I don’t stop trying to find a remedy for her incurable disease, she’ll quit taking the current medications. I received orders to call Evelyn and beg for reconciliation also,” Scarecrow briefs a gratified King of Gotham:

“I guess we both have someone in our lives we can’t neglect,” The Joker dries his hands, puts on latex gloves and snatches an immaculate lab coat from the hanger nearby.

“What am I to do?...” Crane whispers. “Let my daughter die without trying to save her?...” then immediately snaps out of it. “Hair net!!!!” he shouts at The Joker, annoyed he’s trying to skip it.

“For God’s sake,” J complaints … still does as required. “What’s in for me in exchange for my services?”

“What do you want?”

“Two vials of your new, improved Nightmare formula. I witnessed it at work today and let me tell you, that stuff’s amazing!”

“How did you witnessed it at work?! It’s not released on the black market yet,” Jonathan carefully measures the quantities for your medicine.

“Oh, funny you should mention,” the evident sarcasm makes your father pay attention. “Y/N used it on Mara earlier today and she totally lost her mind! I had to lock her up in the pantry at the restaurant with three of my men guarding the door! She went bonkers!!!”

“Sorry,” Scarecrow’s flat tone irritates J. “I guess either you or Mara did something Y/N didn’t like. Welcome to my daughter’s shit list,” he cordially emphasizes.

“You shouldn’t talk to me like this,” The Joker fixes his green locks under the hair net. “One of these days I might become your son-in-law, you know Y/N showers me with her undivided affection.”

“Over my dead body!” Jonathan shrieks and The Clown Prince of Crime seems delighted.

“Hmmm… I can arrange that.”

“Just shut up and help me, would you? What am I paying you for?! Y/N needs more capsules; she’s almost out. Can you tell Emma to take this to her? I’m gonna let her chill, she’s still mad at me.”

“Wimp, you’re afraid to confront her,” J rolls his eyes and Scarecrow is not the one to be intimidated by his guest’s nonsense:

“Says the man that freaked out and searched the town for hours thinking his daughter run away when in fact she was asleep behind the rose bushes in the backyard at their mansion.”

“I didn’t freak out!” The Joker sulks at the unwelcomed reminder.

“Of course you didn’t,” Jonathan serenely replies. “Now fill out the capsules with the amount I already weighted and don’t mess up! I’ll verify your performance.”

“Give it a rest!” J growls. “Emma left for New York; she’ll be there for a couple of days. I’ll take this to Y/N.”

“Don’t think so,” he gets cut off. “I’ll send one of my couriers.”

“I’ll do it for free.”

“Why?”

“I have a score to settle,” J confesses to Scarecrow’s dismay. 

“If you hassle my daughter, I’ll create a plague designed only for your genes and I’ll exterminate you from this planet!”

“Imagine this is not the first time I’m threatened with a pathogen manufactured to ensure my demise,” The Joker hints even if he doesn’t have to.

“She is my daughter,” Crane explains, entirely understanding the reference. “The branch doesn't fall far from the tree; she knows I would so you’d better watch it!”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, right?” the pushy menace concentrates on his task, adamant in finding a way to see you no matter what.

**************

8:31pm

The Joker drives on the narrow path leading to the cabin, stirring left when a car coming from the opposite direction hunks at him.

“Heeeeyyyyy, Mister Joker!!!!!” someone yells and the other SUV accelerates past J’s yet he has enough time to recognize the aggravating pest: Sam aka Bane’s son. A few unpleasant phrases are grumbled regarding the encounter when another detail sets off the pissed King:

Y/N is racing towards the cabin after recognizing her best friend’s dad vehicle; you came out to say goodbye to Sam and take a walk when your idea abruptly changed.

“Are you kidding me??!!” J grinds his teeth while watching you stumble in the grass, then energetically gather yourself up and sprint inside, slamming the door behind.

“Wow!” he exclaims while parking close to the stairs, unsure on how this day will evolve; so far it goddamned sucked.

“Miss Crane,” The Joker taps at the heavy oak door. “Open up, I have your med!”

Maybe if you don’t engage he’ll leave.

“Is this how you thank me for delivering your pills?!” he gets worked up, thumping intensifying.

“Leave the package on the porch and go away!”

“Oh, she speaks!!!” J instantly snaps. “Open up, it’s cold out here!”

“No it’s not,” you call him out on his bullshit.

“You owe me apologies for what you did to Mara!” he demands, cringing at your defiance.

“Ha! When hell freezes!!!”

“What was Bane’s son doing here?” he tries a different strategy, definitely losing patience.

“None of your business!”

“I brought dinner,” J adds because that’s the last ace in his sleeve. “From the restaurant… your favorite. Aren’t you hungry?”

Does the silence mean you’re giving in?...

“Did you bring strawberry crepes too?”

“Yeah,” The Joker lies since he naturally forgot about desert.

The door faintly creeks and you unlock it, finally letting him in; you’re hesitant about your judgement and snatch the two paper bags out of his hands: the small one contains capsules, the big one harbors foam containers with the foods you like.

“Where are the crepes?” you frown at the lack of the delicious treat.

“I have this suspicion you’ve been avoiding me,” J talks about the reason he’s there without answering your question.

“I’m not…”

“Then why don’t you come to the mansion anymore, hm?”

His gaze circles the living room, involuntarily noticing the blood stained tissues in the trash can by the couch.

“Did you have another episode?” The Joker inquires. “Should I call your dad?”

“No…I’m fine…”

“Are you sure?” he insists and you unwrap the plastic utensils, sniffing.

“It’s not a big deal, it happens more and more often… I wish Emma was here,” you wipe your teary eyes and J bestows his infinite wisdom upon the young woman.

“Well, my daughter’s not here and I’m not renowned for making people feel better,” he twists the cap of the bottled water near him. He takes a sip then gives the container to the confused Y/N. “I’m not sure if this will help, but you can touch something my lips touched.”

You smile at his offer, kind of happy he’s using one of your catchy lines.

“What’s this? Reversed flirting?” you pout and drink from the bottle, placing it on the table afterwards.

He doesn’t bother to respond besides apathetically mentioning:

“I’ll spend the night; it’s dark outside and I don’t want to end up in a ditch.”

“It’s summertime, still sunny,” you highlight the indisputable truth to a guy that couldn’t care less.

“I’m tired. Crane pressured me to work! Did you know he took advantage of my kindness and made me sink a couple of hours in his project? What project you ask?” J cracks his neck although you weren’t curious. “I helped made your treatment,” he blurs out and your blank attitude irks The Clown. “You can compensate me by letting me crash here for the night.”

“I’m 100% sure my dad already compensated your efforts,” Y/N utters.

“Why was Sam here?” the earlier question is reprised in order to distract you.

“Are you jealous?” you nibble on your lasagna and J snarls:

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Then why do you have to know?”

“Professional interest,” the vague disclosure scores absolutely no credits with the feisty Y/N.

“That’s a huuuge load of baloney,” you shake your head and decide to unravel the mystery. “He picked up an item for his father. Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite,” you tease and The Joker protests.

“I’m not worried! I don’t even care! Can I sleep here?” he switches the topic and has to boast: “We can party all night long like we did last time!” J sassily reveals; he believes you’ll mock yet it’s not the case.

“You’re very late to this party…” your voice dies out and The King of Gotham is aware what you’re referring to. He digs his fork in the fresh salad, reassuring on a whim:

“Better late than never…”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

[elcorhamletlive]

fandom: MCU (Alternate Universe - Medieval) ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark tags: Outsider POV,  Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Howard Stark POV summary: “What I’m about to ask you has no relation to our alliance,” Rogers continues, his voice a lot steadier now. “I come here only in behalf of myself, and what I’m about to ask, I ask as a man, not as a soldier.”

Howard feels as if he can see the anticipation growing in the room, almost as a cloud forming over them. The guards don’t bother hiding the shock in their expressions, and even Jarvis can’t fully disguise the curiosity, his eyebrows quirked.

Rogers takes one short breath before locking his eyes with Howard’s. His blue gaze is almost peaceful in its resoluteness, as if there’s an element of inevitability in what he’s about to say.

“I’m here to ask for your son’s hand.”

“…with profuse thanks for the accommodations,” Obie’s voice echoes on the room, his low, monotone reading turned into a more solemn sound that it has any right to be, considering the dullness of the subject. “Lady Maryam hopes you’ll join her for dinner tonight.”

“And she will remain hoping.” Howard’s throat scratches as he speaks. He eyes the wine next to the throne, his mouth feeling dry as he sees the little drops of water dripping from the bottle. He can’t drink yet, though – there have been whispers, of course there have been, and he will not feed them so easily. He motions for Obadiah to go on, forcing himself to look away from the bottle.

His eyes dart around the large room. There’s a scribe boy next to Obadiah, taking note of his every word with unfailing precision. Jarvis is next to him, his posture very still and eyes focused, expressionless, exerting his wonderful ability of hiding in plain sight.

As Obadiah starts listing the latest shipments coming from the port, Howard feels the beginning of a headache prickling up his neck. It’s an unbearably hot evening, and even the servant girl fanning him does little to combat the heat. The velvet cushion of the throne sticks to his skin uncomfortably.

“Is that all, then?” He asks, barely bothering to hide his eagerness, as soon as Obadiah pauses to breathe.

There’s hears a noise on his side, something akin to a cough or laughter. Howard’s neck snaps as he turns.

Truth be told, he had forgotten Tony was there. One could hardly fault him for that – Tony was never present in meetings about their economic affairs, even though, according to his duty as the lord’s son, he should be.

Then again, Tony wouldn’t recognize his duty if it slapped him in the face with a horse’s carcass.

“Apologies,” Howard says, his voice cutting as his eyes land on the chair to his right. To his frank surprise, Tony is dressed properly, in a blue waistcoat with golden embroidery and blue breeches. His posture is slightly slouched, but, as he schools his features in a serious expression and looks back at Howard with curiosity, he almost looks just as a young man on his position should. Almost. “Should I put on a jester’s hat for my next joke? Would that make it more amusing to you?”

Tony’s mouth quirks as if it had a life of its own - a notion Howard certainly wouldn’t dispute - but he ducks his head, eyes staring down at his lap.

“Forgive me,” he says, voice meek. “My… my immaturity gets the best of me at times, father.”

“Indeed it does,” Howard agrees. He’s astonished by the lack of an irreverent reply; Tony has never lost one opportunity to be snippy with him.

Perhaps he’s feeling ill, Howard thinks. The thought is not strong enough to be a concern, but it still makes him strangely uncomfortable. He grasps the goblet’s stem before raising it to his lips for another sip.

To hell with the whispers, he thinks. He can do as he wants.

When he lowers his glass, he realizes all the eyes are on him, waiting for permission to continue the conversation. He barely fights back the urge to sigh.

“Are we done?” He directs the question to Obadiah, turning away from Tony entirely.

“I’m afraid not yet, my lord,” Obadiah’s voice sounds compassionate, but there’s a glimmer in his eyes that leave no doubt this is the moment he’s been waiting for all night. “The rebels sent a raven to the city walls last night. Captain Rogers has requested an audience with you.”

The last words seem to suck all air out of the room. Howard straightens his posture, forgetting for a moment his discomfort with the throne’s cushion. “They have gotten all the weapons we sent them, have they not?”

“Yes, my Lord. The Captain said it was… a different matter.”

“And he specifically asked to speak to me,” Howard says, not a question.

Obadiah nods.

Howard clenches his jaw. “We cannot afford to spare any more soldiers.”

This isn’t entirely true – Howard could, he imagines, send a few more man to meet the Captain’s forces. But that would weaken their own defenses more than he’s comfortable with. He’s already playing a large risk, allying himself to the Captain’s cause.

Some would say it was a safe bet. Through the entire kingdom, there are villagers convinced of a certain victory, already singing songs of the one who came to free them from Zola’s tyranny. But for the longest time, Howard had dismissed this possibility: rebellions come and go, and it’s foolish for a nobleman to be concerned with the legends of the common folk. Even as tales of the Captain’s prowess in battle started reaching royal feasts, for the longest time the rebels were still perceived as a momentary threat; a thorn on the king’s side and nothing more. When word got around that the king had sent Pierce’s command to handle them, most of the lords - Howard included - had assumed that would be the end of the rebellion.

Everything changed when Pierce’s men were defeated. Suddenly, the tables had turned, and any lord worth his land was scraping for leverage to negotiate with the rebels.

Of course, the Starks were a crucial piece of support for the Captain to get, if he intended to govern the North. The whole continent knew of the quality of Stark iron and the weapons they could craft. It was, then, only a matter of time until they received a messenger to negotiate an alliance. The Captain had not been present, yet according to the messenger - a stunning and terrifying red-haired woman - he had wanted to be there, except it wasn’t safe for him to veer inside the city to reach the palace.

The negotiations went smoothly, and in no time, the Starks were officially allied with the rebels, just – as the rumors said - in time for the Captain to start planning his final assault against the king’s castle.

Howard didn’t mind being late to the party. He’d leave the alliance for after the king was overthrown if he could, but Gods know that would lower his negotiation power considerably. He was left with no choice.

He is not very happy about that. Mind you, he has no love for the king – the crazy, old bastard could jump off a cliff for all Howard cares – but Zola ruled the lands for decades. With him, it was easy to know where you stood. With the Captain…

Well. That remains to be seen.

“Did he, uh,” a voice cuts through the silence, and it sounds so hesitant that it’s with quite a shock Howard realizes it’s Tony’s. “Did he say when?”

“No, my lord,” Obadiah says. Howard barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. He spoils Tony too much, not nearly as much as Maria had, true, but... “Though I assume he must be waiting for a swift reply. We don’t know how long he can stay in the outskirts—"

“I will see him tomorrow,” Howard declares, half-distracted by the wine goblet and the way its gold reflects the lights of the chandelier. “Send word for him to meet me after dinner.”

“Of course,” Obadiah replies, with a slight bow. Tony, sitting on his chair, shifts a little.

“This should be interesting,” Howard states. The wine is a bit on the sweet side for him, he decides. His eyes dart to the door, already wondering—the last bottle the Romanoffs sent, had he finished it? And if not, where had it gone? Perhaps on the last cabinet of the kitchen, the one Happy kept locked at his request…

“Meeting the Captain can’t hurt,” Obadiah agrees, running his hand over his beard. “Perhaps we can gather information on his next assault.”

“He won’t say anything,” Tony counters. “Besides, it’s not as if you will be meeting for the first time.”

Howard frowns at that, though his eyes remain at the door.

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Obadiah says, as if he’s talking to a child. “It’s dangerous for the Captain to veer into the city. We have negotiated through a messenger. He has never been here before.”

Howard glances at Tony’s reaction. Part of him feels curious, the other part is already at the kitchen, thinking about the Romanoff’s bottle.

“I know this,” Tony says, huffing a breath. “I’m talking about…” He trails off when he catches sight of Howard looking at him. “You know what I’m talking about. You know him.”

Howard raises an eyebrow in response.

“Do I?”

“Yes,” Tony replies, and Howard feels a tinge of annoyance at the indignation that fills his expression, as if Howard has insulted him deeply. “He used to live here, years ago, as a child. Don’t you remember?” He frowns as if the possibility honestly confuses him. “He tended the stables. How could you not remember?”

A moment of stunned silence follows his question.

“Oh, yes.” Howard grins and snaps his fingers. “Of course. How could I not remember a kid who once worked on the stables ages ago? I obviously have nothing better to think about.”

The scribe lets out a muffled laugh. Howard, with a rush of self-satisfaction, waits to see Tony’s cheeks flush with shame, but instead he only seems more indignant, hands closing into fists on his lap.

“Are you jesting?” He snaps. His eyes are wide, seeming bigger than ever. He got that from Maria – big, unbearably inquiring eyes. “He set your horse for you every morning for years. And you’re saying you couldn’t even be bothered to learn his name?”

Hot anger boils in Howard’s stomach. “You might enjoy mixing up with all sorts of people, Tony,” he spits, his voice dripping with disdain, leaving no doubt as to what class of mixing he’s referring to. “But I’m a busy man, and I can’t bring myself to learn the names of every poor bastard who makes sure the horses don’t eat themselves to death.”

The flush finally appears in Tony’s cheeks, but it’s not of shame, but anger.“He’s not—” His mouth shuts with an audible click and he stands abruptly. “I should go.” He turns on his heels as quickly as possible, walking in large strides towards the door.

read the rest on ao3!

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 20 [19% - Begin: Iron Man 2]

Despite all the obstacles in your way, time being the biggest one and sadly so since it was impossible to fight against, you found your way through the mess that Tony had laid out for you. Stark Expo was opening tonight and everything felt like it was right in place. He’d done as he said he would and cut back on outgoing missions so that he could spend time helping you clean up and prepare and fix- although it still didn’t stop him from spending long hours in the lab.

You’d fussed over his bow tie, nerves getting the better of you. It was strange how many huge events you’d attended and opened for him and yet every single one was always fraught with challenges. You never felt settled. Maybe that was how you kept your edge. “Should we put a bow tie on the suit, too?”

“Now’s not the time to try and be cute.” You were still miffed he hadn’t come to any dress rehearsals, because as he put it, all I have to do is fall out of the sky and onto a platform.

“I saw what the dancers are wearing. You think you could sneak one of those home?”

Finished prepping him, and because now was the perfect time, you took one of the fairground pamphlets in hand and smacked him on the side of the head. “Can you be serious for even one minute?”

His hands came to your shoulders. “My limit is thirty seconds.” Almost quite literally leaning in to steal a kiss before he wisely stepped far away to get into Iron Man. You left well enough alone.

The Expo was already flooded with people by the time you got back there an hour later and you knew you didn’t have to worry about Tony boarding his jet to be taken overhead. It seemed a little overplayed, over priced too. If he could just take himself up and come back down, but it was Tony after all. He wanted an extremely flashy entrance.

It was why girls in teeny-tiny Iron Man booty shorts and crop tops with LED lights on their palms and boots worked up a sweat on stage as Shoot To Thrill boomed over the speakers. “Start fireworks over main stage.” You were pacing in the back, barking orders into your headset. This all had to go perfect, not because a slip up would bother Tony, but it would bother you.

You hadn’t busted your ass this hard for it to all fall apart now.

The pilot taking Tony in crackled over your transmission, “270 at 30 knots holding steady at 15,000 feet. You are clear for exfiltration over the drop zone.”

“All you, Tony.” You had no idea if he was even listening, peering up from your spot behind the front curtain to look up at the night sky.

Illuminated among huge bursts of color you could see him coming in hot- ...and tried to ignore that he may or may not have gotten hit with a firework. The crowd was screaming at this point, excitement overwhelming every single person in attendance. He’d been on countless dangerous missions, life threatening ones, at this point trying to do his own peace work- but this was the thing that scared you the most.

He fell right through the perfect point in the huge glass dome and landed smack center of his mark. Flash in the pan. Handful of seconds. Standing up he lifted his arms as the machine that he’d designed to take off the suit folded up from underneath the stage. You knew how hard he’d been trying to perfect a single exit delivery, but for some reason he just hadn’t gotten the specs right yet.

It didn’t matter.

The crowd was going wild as his helmet came off with the rest of the pieces, bit by bit. Tony was in his most casual element. Playing for other people. Grinning brightly, pointing a finger across the throes. The song finally started coming to its close and the dancers moved to half circle him, palms up.

Hardest part done. Blind run after no rehearsals. Beautiful.

Chants of his name along with thunderous applause lit up the night. “Oh! It’s good to be back. You missed me.” Turning away from watching him on stage, a few show runners came up to you with clipboards and other scheduling snafus that needed your attention. You tried quickly to abate them as Tony was teasing the crowd so that you could turn your full attention back to him.

He hadn’t prepped a speech either- at least, he hadn’t let you prep one for him. But what damage could he do? He’d already spilled every last secret to the world. Well. All his anyway. There was always you. Even knowing he wouldn’t dare, you pushed away an attention hungry intern as you peeked back out. Needing to keep an eye on him. To watch.

“I’m not saying that the world is enjoying it’s longest period of uninterrupted peace in years because of me.” The crowd erupted again. He spoke over them. “I’m not saying that from the ashes of captivity never has a greater phoenix metaphor been personified in human history.” Arms outstretched his head fell forward and he drowned in the people’s adoration. Only briefly, though, thank goodness, as he started moving across the stage. “I’m not saying that Uncle Sam can kick back on a lawn chair sippin’ on an iced tea because I haven’t come across anyone man enough to go toe to toe with me on my best day!”

A chill crept across your skin. No wonder he wouldn’t let you prep him. You’d have never signed off on something like that. Still inviting trouble after everything. He seemed to be melting in their praise as another chant of his name broke across. Followed by a very determined woman screaming, “I LOVE YOU TONY!”

“Please.” He waved his hand dismissively despite the fact that he was eating all of this up. “It’s not about me. It’s not about you.” Waiting a moment for the crowd to hush a little. “It’s not even about us. It’s about legacy. It’s about what we choose to leave behind for future generations. And that’s why, for the next year, and for the first time since 1974, the best and brightest-”

A touch at your shoulder interrupted your attention. You were almost ready to actually physically hit the next person who couldn’t give you five minutes to watch, but upon seeing it was Happy you calmed yourself. Now you were getting too wrapped up in Tony like everyone else. “The suit’s packed. The car’s around back.”

Despite all the planning and effort and wanting to reignite this huge thing, Tony actually hadn’t wanted to stay to witness much of it past its introduction- his introduction. You hadn’t asked why. You didn’t want to either. Being able to hand it off to the next qualified person was a delight. “Thank you. We’re gonna wait a few minutes for the crowd to thin out but we should be alright.” There would be other things to see and do and security would herd them out the other way so everything would be good.

Howard Stark’s voice rolled from the stadium speakers, an older clip welcoming people to the first ever Stark Expo all those years ago. Looking up you’d missed Tony’s exit across the other side of the stage. Of course he had no idea he was supposed to come see you on the right side, since he’d never once asked. Didn’t matter, you tried to tell yourself, as you walked around back.

Approaching him, his back turned to you, there was a slight flutter of anxiety. Maybe, like you, these things were still hard for him, too. Crazy to think about. Carefully you laid a hand to his shoulder. “You did great out there.” He shifted, hand easing out from his suit jacket to grab hold of the water bottle Happy was offering to him.

“Can’t ask for more than perfection.” Easy smile on his face. Lifting the cap of the bottle he took a long sip, exhaling loudly after. “I need to get into something a little more inconspicuous- you mind?”

You weren’t sure who he was asking, but Happy took the cue to put his hands up and walk himself backwards. “The dressing room is right over here.” He still seemed a little jittery. It felt unwise to leave him completely alone.

Once inside, you handed him the black button up and vest you’d brought, all pristine in its dry-cleaning plastic. “You know… I don’t mind you watching, but if we’re keeping up this secret, I think it looks weird my assistant just walked in here with me.” He started pulling his bow tie undone.

“Maybe they think you’re so helpless you can’t even get dressed without me.” Said sweetly with just as saccharine a smile.

He chuckled as he shed his suit jacket. “Next thing you know, everyone’s gonna be saying you’re the one in the suit with that kind of attitude.”

“Hm, Iron Lady does have a sophisticated ring to it.” Immediately you knew this was a mistake.

“See- I’m glad you feel that way- because-”

Reaching up you yanked his discarded clothes from him, folding them over your arm. “Kidding, Tony. Never in a million years.” Even though you’d turned him down a few times now you had a very huge sneaking suspicion he was working on something for you down in his lab.

He exchanged clothes with you. “Suit yourself. Literally. If we could just work out some specs-”

“You really would just like to eat dinner by yourself, wouldn’t you?”

“Now who’s being ridiculous?” Turning to you, tugging the edges of his vest. A stunning silhouette all in black. “How do I look?”

Setting his other clothes aside you reached up to smooth the lines of his shoulders. “Looks like you’ve got a hot date.” Which was ridiculous, if the two of you were really intent on keeping this a secret (that you thought no one was buying at this point), going out to dinner together after a hugely televised event was the worst thing to do.

But he had asked, and so…

“Yeah. I do.”

Damn him.

Leaning up on tiptoe, you grounded yourself with your palms on his shoulders, risking a short but satisfying kiss. At this point it was clear the two of you were playing it fast and loose. It was rare you’d appear at any event without one another, and while it was easy to say it was just because you were his assistant and kept his life together…

Part of you wanted to announce it. To have it known.

But the other part was terrified.

A knock at the door broke the two of you apart and you went to gather his things. Happy poked his head in. “Ready to go?”

“Already?” There was no way things were quiet outside yet.

But Tony grabbed your free hand. “Yeah, let’s hit it.” And at your disapproving look, “What? They’re gonna hang out there all night anyway. Might as well just brave the frenzy and be free.”

Frenzy was right. Out of the safety of the back stage, hundreds of voices called out as Happy tried to get the two of you through crazed people all pulling and pushing for a piece of Tony. Women and men alike trying to whisper to him, phone and hotel numbers all the same. But he did stop briefly to sign a few autographs for some kids waiting on the stairs. Say a few passing hellos to some fellow developers and celebrities…

It felt endless. And you really would have liked to have waited so as to not be bombarded with all of it. But in moments the thick air of the night greeted you outside, and the noises died to a hush as the doors closed behind you, security keeping people from crossing out after.

“I brought the new model up.” The R8 Spyder. Brand new, in fact, at Tony’s request that it be here. Flashy for his own sake, and you’d noticed a growing trend of him getting attached to that particular model. Sleek, silver, and convertible. Perfect for a night out on the town in this muggy weather.

“Beautiful. She come with it?” Finally out of your thoughts once you heard him ask this, you saw a woman leaning against the car.

Very quickly you were thrust into full alert, dropping his hand and stepping forward. You tried not to let the thrum of amused pride wafting from Tony get the better of you. “Can I help you?” Why had security let her out here? Why had they let her wait?

“I’m hoping so.” She pushed away from the car to come a few steps closer, papers tucked under her arm.

“You got a name?” Tony seemed entirely nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Marshall.” Happy moved around her as she answered, opening the top of the car and taking the rest of Tony’s clothes from you to stow them in the trunk. Clearly he was just as unbothered.

“Irish. I like it.” All charm. It kind of bugged you. Tony was still very used to getting cozy with all sorts.

“I don’t. What do you want?” After all, if this was some sort of corporate nonsense, maybe someone mad they were kicked off the guest list, it was your job to handle it.

“I want to give him something.” Voice soft. But you weren’t buying it.

“I’m on the wheel.” Tony stepped aside the scuffle to get into the driver’s seat. He was intent on leaving, it seemed, so you got into the passenger side with him. Happy went around, rethinking getting into his car, standing by to see what would come of this. Tony looked up at her again. “What are you giving me?”

“A subpoena.” Holding the paper out to him.

Dread struck through you as Tony made a face. “Yikes.”

You bristled. “For what?”

“If he would just take it-”

“I don’t like being handed things.” Adamant. As if it would help the situation.

You reached up to yank it from her, reading over the top words as she spoke them aloud. “You are hereby ordered to appear before the Senate Armed Services Committee tomorrow morning at 9 A.M.”

“You can’t serve subpoenas for a court date that’s twelve hours from now- in a different state.” Glaring up at her. No. This was absolutely not happening. They couldn’t just bully Tony to come to a senate hearing.

“He can take the suit.” Playing coy. If that was really their angle, it would have mitigated the legality of sufficient time for him to get there.

Tony looked up at her. “Can I see a badge?” Of course. You should have asked for the same thing. Now he was doing your job for you.

She just smiled. “You wanna see the badge?” Reaching into her pocket she got it out, waving it in front of him. “You like it?”

“Not as much as I thought I would.”

You just put your hand to your head, a sigh escaping. Turning to look up at Happy who had come to your side of the car. “How long would it take to get from here to DC?”

He made a noise of thought and then shrugged. “About 250 miles... Four hours and change.”

“Still time for dinner, then.” Tony said suddenly, revving the engine to a start and pulling out in a sudden screech of wheels.

Hurriedly you pulled your seat belt on as wind whipped around you. Taking out your phone was the next step. “I’ll make some calls-” Who could you call? A lawyer, first of all. There was no way the government was just going to drop a surprise like this on you without complete and total recourse. Then maybe… Coulson?

His hand came up over yours, pushing your cell down. “Let’s eat. Then make some reservations somewhere in DC.”

“And drive all night?” You tried to keep above upset.

“If we put this off now, they’re just gonna keep coming. And, besides, if I don’t show up they’ll start calling me a delinquent.” It was hard to tell if he was taking this seriously or not.

But he did have a point. This wasn’t as much of a surprise as it was a shock. Those senate members had been on TV for months now pissing and moaning about Iron Man. ...maybe some of them had a point, but you would keep that to yourself. You’d even combated with more news anchors than you would have liked, defending Tony’s name. Iron Man’s name.

You had just been sort of hoping that would be all it was. And that they wouldn’t do something like this. Because the next step, probably, was breaking down the door to the lab and seizing the suits. And you really wouldn’t know what to do then.

“Relax. Don’t let them get you angry. That’s what they want.” It wouldn’t prove useful to show up to a hearing in a huff, that was for sure. It would only be broadcast on every news station for the next few days how you let your emotions get the better of you in defense of your vigilante boss. You could see the headlines now. “We don’t have time to put this off, so we’ll deal with it now and then go about our lives.”

Just be easier to get it done now, he was saying. You guessed he was mostly right… And if he was intent on doing it anyway, there was nothing you could do to stop him. You ended up shaking your head. “Alright. I’ll do some research on the drive up. Try and see what they’ve got.” It was extremely obvious they were going to argue with him about whether or not Iron Man was a weapon, and for that reason that a private citizen should not own it. But they must have had something that finally pushed them to this point.

His hand moved to give your leg a squeeze. “I said relax. You’ve been busting your ass for this Expo and I don’t need you overworking yourself now that it’s over.”

At this you really couldn’t hold back a roll of your eyes. “Work still goes on Tony. If it wasn’t this, it was something else.”

“But it doesn’t have to be this and something else.” Being pedantic at this point.

Leaning over, you rested your head against his arm. That was just it, though. “There’s always more.” No end in sight. Tired, you closed your eyes.

“Yeah.” His voice was a million miles away.

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

 Tony had gone out for food which both annoyed you and was equally fine. After deciding it was just easier to make the drive now, you’d ended up canceling the dinner reservations and going home to pack an overnight bag. A little under four hours of driving time as the roads were mostly clear- and Tony had a huge problem with obeying the speed limit. Something you could hardly fault him for since he was used to going hundreds of miles an hour most days. He was otherwise a safe driver- and your mind was elsewhere, anyway.

You’d gotten a hotel room at 1:30 in the morning, trying to ignore the gushing front desk staff. Also trying to ignore their stares when you requested the suite with one bed. Easier, right? Let them talk. You’d stopped caring very recently. The media was more concerned with Tony’s activities as a superhero rather than that he was spotted everywhere with you. And booking one-bed hotel rooms with you.

The first thing once you got upstairs was offering to just call room service. But he seemed oddly buzzing with energy, not wanting to sit for a moment. You just chalked it up to the fact that he was going to be berated and questioned for hours tomorrow by the biggest assholes in the country. There would probably be no sleep tonight.

So he’d said he was going to go out for a drive and go get food. And then he was gone.

You were in your PJs, cross-legged on the overly large bed with your laptop open when he came back. “Are you still working? I told you to cut that out.”

Looking up from your screen, you spotted the three brown bags he had in hand as he approached. “...did you bring back Burger King?” Of course he had. You should have gone with him.

“Only thing open.” For one reason or another you doubted this. But it didn’t really matter in the end. He came to sit on the side of the bed, dumping the first bag’s contents out. Burgers. Lots of them. Immediately he started unwrapping one and took a huge bite. “You gonna put that away or am I gonna have to take it from you?”

You couldn’t help the laugh. “Now you’re starting to sound like me.”

“All things considered, not the worst thing in the world.” The burger was already gone. His hand came up to shut the lid of your laptop. “I’m serious. Eat something. Please.”

At this point you were too tired to fight. You were also sure you’d found everything you were going to find. So going into the second bag you pulled a chicken sandwich out and took a few bites. “So… Justin Hammer is here.”

“Here? We’ll have to get a different hotel.” Offended at the very thought.

You grinned. “I don’t know if here, here. But he’s in the area. It’s likely they’re going to pull him as an expert.”

Tony scoffed. “An expert at what? Failure? Brown nosing?”

“Weapons.” Despite how true it all was, you tried to keep on task. “He’s on their payroll.” Having picked up a very nice weapons contract after Tony had pulled out. Memories of him bothering you in that airport bar touched the back of your brain.

“And he never even sent us a Christmas card for that.” Wonderful gift that it had been. “God knows he never would have secured it on his own.”

“You have no idea.” Breathing out a tired sigh just as you finished up your sandwich.

He raised a brow, starting in on his third burger. “Enlighten me.”

Now was not a very good time for this. But now there’d be no getting out of it. And so… “When you first announced to the world you were pulling out of weapons, he stalked me to an airport bar and asked me to give him abandoned schematics.”

“You-...” Tony seemed shocked. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” But very quickly he was shaking his head with a big smile. “And here I thought I knew the bottom to his well of shame. You were holding out on me.” Waggling his finger your way.

“He insisted we were old friends and took issue with me questioning his sanity over it.” You unwrapped another sandwich, sharing a much needed laugh.

“Unbelievable. You really should have told me he was following you around, though. Could have given Happy an excuse to put him on the floor.” Going in to the last bag, he pulled two bottles of water.

One which you accepted gratefully as it was handed to you. “Please.” Offended. “I could snap Justin Hammer over my knee.”

“Yes you could. I’d love to see it, too.” A little raise of his brows in enjoyment of the implication.

“No.” You chastised. “I’m not going to assault Justin tomorrow.”

“Come on. Just a little light assault? We could all use a laugh. He’ll probably thank you for the opportunity.”

You were giggling still as you leaned forward to rest your head at the back of his shoulder. “I can’t believe Iron Man is asking me to attack an innocent bystander.”

“Correction.” He held up a finger. “Tony Stark is asking his girlfriend to provide some entertainment at the world’s largest jackass’ expense.”

A fuzz of warmth settled in your chest. “Well Tony Stark’s girlfriend is politely refusing to go to jail tomorrow.”

He sighed. “Oh alright. Fine.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “I’ll go to jail for assault tomorrow.”

Giggling still, especially as he laughed when you gave his shoulder a shove with your head, “No one is going to jail tomorrow.”

Sitting back on the bed more fully, he put an arm around you. “Good thing. I don’t do so well in captivity.”

Your hand came up to rest over his chest. “Don’t I know it.” It would have been nice to let the air settle. Maybe offer to go to bed. But there was one more thing… “Tony...”

“That sounds like bad news. Let’s wait until after the hearing tomorrow.” Sarcastic, knowing it was exactly about that.

As much as you would have liked to not do this, “Rhodey compiled a report at the Senate’s request.”

Tony’s voice was far away when he answered, “He did, huh?”

“I can’t see it right now, it’s sealed from the public. But I’m sure it’s as fair as he could make it.” Being asked to do it, there would be no way for Rhodey to say no without jeopardizing himself. You had to believe in the best for him. “I think because of all this they’re going to make the case you shouldn’t have the suit.” They were going to try very hard. “I mean- not that you couldn’t have figured that out.” Backing out of any credit here. This had been a hot topic for months. It was obvious that’s what the hearing was about.

He gave you a little squeeze. “I’m not going in there completely blind, at least.” Then he shrugged, easing out a deep breath. “Better to get this over with now. Maybe they’ll stop bugging you on TV about it.”

You smiled softly. “If I’m lucky.”

“I’d say you’re not doing half bad.”

“Me either. And just for the record, rebuffing news anchors on your behalf is one of the easier parts of my job. Wouldn’t change it for the world.” Defending him wasn’t always easy, it never had been. Before all this or after. “I’d do it every day, if I had to.” As long as it meant something.

He was quiet for much longer than you expected. “You won’t.” Dwelling on that, perhaps.

Just a tiny, teeny tiny, sliver of unease settled. “Got big plans to tell everyone off tomorrow? Just please at least try to be professional.” He must have just been thinking it over. It was going to be a tough day.

“I’ll do my best.”

[themyskira]

Wonder Woman Annual #2

Previously in FUCKITY FUCK FUCK I FORGOT THERE WAS AN ANNUAL AS WELL: Diana prepared to face down her most terrifying foes yet: the Dark Gods.

Who or what are the Dark Gods? Dunno.

What do they want? No clue.

What is this awesome and terrible power that they wield? So far, mostly just the ability to shoot lasers out of their eyes and incite people to deliver badly-written villainous monologues.

Why are we supposed to be so pants-pissingly afraid of them? Because James Robinson told us so.

Last issue ended with the Dark Gods manifesting over Washington DC, at which point it was revealed that they are… giant floating statues, I guess? But, like, scary floating statues. With lasers. So scary.

And then moments later, a couple of Star Sapphires arrived to whisk Diana away so she could appear in this shitty annual.

Diana is teleported to the Star Sapphires’ home planet of Zamaron, which is heavily battle-damaged.

The two Sapphires who brought her here are called Miss Bloss and Miri Riam, who are apparently pre-established minor Green Lantern characters — something I had to figure out on my own, because Robinson just assumes we all known them, and that Diana does too (I’m reasonably sure they’ve never met). The one time his overexplaining might have actually been useful, and he couldn’t be arsed taking a panel or two to make introductions.

Diana yells at them that she’s too busy to help with whatever their deal is, and launches into a recap of last issue. But, you know, that was all of two weeks ago, so by all means, spend a page getting us up to speed.

She’s also still throwing around ‘crazy’ and ‘insane’ like they’re going out of style. 

“…and although I’m not certain — the woman who told me was insane at the time--“

How about ‘possessed’, ‘out of control’, ‘somewhat incoherent’ or ‘compromised’? Any of these would be more accurate in this context, as well as not equating mental illness with dangerous and violent behaviour.

But anyway, essentially Diana says ‘my world is being attacked by the Dark Gods and it’s my fault’, and Miss Bloss is like, ‘well, if that was your fault, then our thing must be your fault, too’, and points up at the giant floating Dark God statue thing that Diana has somehow failed to notice until this exact moment.

Oh, goody.

Diana starts questioning them about what happened.  Honestly, that’s really all she does these days.  If she’s not delivering plot recaps herself, she’s setting up allies for flashback-exposition or allowing villains to monologue at her. Oh, sure, occasionally she fights somebody, but mostly she’s just a vessel for tedious exposition.

Miss Bloss describes the Dark God’s attack:

“Even to recall it now, it feels like a dream or vision from another world. Almost like we were looking at ourselves from outside of it all.”

The first time I read this, I took it to be a figure of speech. I interpreted it as an expression of Miss Bloss’s deep level of shock at the devastation she’d experienced, that it still felt unreal, as though it had happened to somebody else.

I was giving Robinson too much credit: he meant it literally.

As we’ll learn in a few pages’ time, one of the Dark Gods has some kind of power over people’s perceptions, enabling him to induce in others a sense of unreality and dreamlike detachment. We’ll learn that the Dark Gods have deliberately used this ability in order to confuse enemies and limit their ability to respond to or even comprehend attacks.

Frazer Irving — who illustrates the flashback, along with a couple of other scenes in this issue — plays into this well.  His stylised art and colour work lends a somewhat eerie dreamlike quality to his pages, creating a sense of altered reality.

Unfortunately, Robinson can’t write dreamlike.

So what in theory should be an eerie, confusing, unreal flashback instead just turns into Miss Bloss telling us that her memories of the attack are eerie and unreal and hazy… aaaaand then proceeding to describe the attack, the enemy, his name, the concept he embodies, his powers and the precise reason why he was able to kill so many Star Sapphires, all in exacting detail. 

The Dark God who attacked the Sapphires is called Karnell and he calls himself the god of love, but the love he embodies is dark and gritty and edgy and corrupted. He can sense any ‘impurities’ or ‘flaws’ in a person’s love and rub it in their faces. When he does this to Star Sapphires, something something their rings freak out and they spontaneously combust.

Diana asks, ‘yeah okay, but you didn’t know that this was my fault when you dragged me here, so what gives?’, and Bloss and Miri are like, ‘welp, our leaders are all dead, Carol Ferris is busy in another comic, we all frankly suck, and you were a Star Sapphire once in that Blackest Night crossover event.’

At which point I went, ‘wait huh what??? but that was before the New 52 reboot!’, before remembering that Geoff Johns’ entire preboot GL run survived the reboot for no other reason than because Geoff Johns gets whatever he wants.

Diana agrees to lead the Sapphires against Krakoom (I’m sorry, I’m not going to bother to learn his name, he’s not worth that kind of time), and the Sapphires respond by giving her the Nazi salute due to an unfortunate artistic miscalculation.

Diana: And if I am going to stand among you — fight alongside you — let me look the part. Sapphires: As you wish it, so do we, Wonder Woman… be a Star Sapphire once more.

And with that, they give Diana a makeover.

It’s not a bad costume, especially when you compare it to her Blackest Night design. That one tried to ape Carol Ferris’ hideous then-costume, which featured hip cut-outs and a plummeting neckline that ended around the crotch area, by giving Diana a bathing suit with hip-holes and a bared midriff. This design retains many familiar Star Sapphire costume elements — the stiff pointed white collar, the combination tiara/mask, the starburst symbol, the long gloves and high boots — without going into creepy male-gazey territory.

buuuuut it also looks like Diana is wearing a pink apron over her usual costume, and that is something I cannot get past. It also varies wildly across the issue, depending on which of the four credited artists is drawing it.

By the way, I say ‘makeover’ because despite violet blaze on her right ring finger, it took me several times flicking back and forth before I was certain that Diana had been deputised into the Corps as opposed to just being given a new costume in order to “look the part”, as she put it. I know this sounds like it should have been self-evident, but Robinson gives absolutely no indication of any deeper change in her. Not even lip service to the fact that Diana is connected, through the power ring, to the emotional spectrum and the violet energies of love.

Contrast this with Diana in Blackest Night: Wonder Woman #3:

“Extraordinary. All of them, in their way, have tried to explain it to me before. Hal, John, Kyle… even Guy, may Ares watch and aid him. But it defies all attempts. There is no way to describe it. What it is to wear a power ring, and feel emotion made manifest. To wear fear on anger or will or hope on one’s hand… To wear love. Too beautiful for words…”

There’s a lot about Wondy’s Blackest Night tie-in that’s flawed and frustrating and flat-out bad, but this page gets it right. If you’re going to make Diana a Star Sapphire — going to give one of the most loving hearts of the DCU the power to channel her love into tangible power — then you need to acknowledge the weight of that.

In this comic, it’s as insubstantial as a costume change.

Flying up to confront Kratakoa, Diana wonders if she could really have summoned the Dark Gods. Supergirl said she brought them into this plane with a careless wish, and… oh, come to think of it, she did inadvertently make a wish during the recent Dark Nights: Metal crossover, while coincidentally handling some magical wishing metal. But nah, that couldn’t possibly have done it!

She reaches the big floaty statue and a bloke with spiky wings emerges from it. It’s Klangalang, and he’s got his monologue cued up and ready to go!

He opens with a fairly standard ‘ahaha, I’ve been expecting you, hero!’, and the implications fly straight over Diana’s head.

Kibble: You came, Amazon! Sooner than I expected, too! Good… I’m going to love this! Diana: You’re some kind of seer, too? You expected me?

Let’s review: The villains Diana supposedly summoned, the villains who have been trying to kill or neutralise Diana before she can interfere in their plans, have attacked the Star Sapphires in advance of their invasion of Earth. Despite not knowing about Diana’s connection to their attacker, the Sapphires reached out to her for help, teleporting her away at almost the exact moment that the villains launched their opening assault. Now the one villain who hasn’t joined the invading force is cackling that he’s been expecting Diana.

Even a half-competent hero should be able to join the dots and realise they’ve been deliberately lured away. Not so Robinson’s Diana, who gazes at him wide-eyed and demands, ‘omg, u expected me? are u psychic or sumthin???’

After a couple more rounds of obscenely dense questions from Diana (along with another out-of-character ’crazy’ slur), Klunk ends up having to straight-up spell it out for her. He also explains how she summoned the Dark Gods.

Krunch: You wished for the gods’ return. Well, here we are. Here I am! Diana: Like a dream, but yes, of course. But I meant the Greek pantheon, not— Krump: Gods! That’s all you said.

Small nitpick: Diana would not think of her gods the “Greek pantheon”. She’d be more likely to call them “the Patrons”, “my gods”, “the gods of my people”, “the gods of Themyscira”, “the gods of Olympus”, “the Olympians” — she knew them as all of these things long before she knew Greece, or any world outside her island home, existed. The only reason she might refer to them as “Greek” is for the benefit of people in Man’s World, as a point of reference.

More importantly, are you friggin kidding me, the friggin layers of incompetence here from our supposed hero

accidentally makes a wish while wielding a weapon of magical wishing metal

manages to make the vaguest wish possible, opening a loophole for THE WORST GODS to infiltrate reality

immediately forgets she ever wished it

why would she even wish for that?! her gods haven’t gone anywhere!

To be somewhat fair, the reason she doesn’t really remember it is that “the God With No Name” (YES REALLY) made it all feel like a dream so that she wouldn’t realise she’d made an irresponsible wish and needed to immediately rally everybody together to resist the Dark Gods.

Except… that in itself doesn’t make any sense.

There are two possibilities here: the Horse With No Name could have clouded Diana’s memory of making the wish after the Dark Gods were pulled into this reality — in which case, why? How would she even land on the conclusion that she’d accidentally summoned some evil gods that she’d never heard of, when her intent was to call on her own gods and she’d had no indication that it had even worked?

Alternatively, he clouded her mind in the moment of the wish, to render her thoughts vague and imprecise and open the door for the Dark Gods’ invasion. Which doesn’t work either, because it turns out that the Dark Gods are pretty pissed off at being pulled out of their awesome reality.

King Koopa: War was declared the moment you dragged us from our home… our beautiful world — which you regard as the ‘Dark Multiverse’ — we see as a paradise… where we were more than even gods to our worshippers… we were everything!”

So basically their plan is to turn Earth into a desolate hellscape just like their home.

Diana, who has already been told that Kraig is a god of corrupted love, conveniently forgets this fact just so that Robinson can tell it to us again.

Diana: You call yourself a god of love. What kind of love wants to be feared? Love is unconditional. KHAAAAAN: Spoken like the addled naive romantic I expected. Love always comes with conditions. Sometimes, I confess, I question… am I god of that love, of those conditions behind it? But then I realise… I don’t care.

Cool story. Glad we can agree on one thing, at least.

He monologues for a couple of pages about how he’s going to open her eyes to the truth of how horrible and selfish and corrupt love is, then draws Diana into his mind so that he can monologue some more.

We learn that the world of the Dark Gods was forged by a group of divinities called Titans, “much like the reality of your own Greek pantheon” (incorrect, you’re thinking of the Protogenoi; the Titans were the second generation of gods). But because these Titans were hardcore, they did it by smashing five other realities together. And into this terrifyingly dark edgy metalscape came… +~teh D4rK g0dz~+

Robinson then undermines the super-extra-double-dark feel he’s going for with another embarrassing name and an accidental rhyme.

“We Dark Gods followed, as gods do. King Best and then the rest.”

KING. BEST.

But wait, we haven’t even gotten to Kalamazoo’s dark edgy totally original backstory!

In fact, this is so dark and edgy and original that I’ll throw in a quick content warning here for descriptions of domestic violence and shittiness towards sex workers.

“You’ll meet a boy — his mother broken by a wanton father who forced her to cheapen herself further with wraiths and under-beings. The mother died — beaten to death. When he saw her blood still dripping from the fists of his father, the boy ran, fearing the same fate. The boy loved his mother, but hated his father and the world. Both emotions — love and hate — burned so brightly that even from within the darkness of our world, their glow caught the eye of mighty King Best.”

Domestic violence! Sexism! Slut shaming! Fridging! It’s like a game of grimdark bingo!

After three goddamn pages of this, Diana suddenly twigs what we all figured out eleven pages ago, ‘oh now waaaaaait a minute, you didn’t lure me here so that your buddies could invade Earth while I’m distracted, did you?’

Klinger responds by almost murdering Diana, and is only stopped by the intervention of the Star Sapphires.  They all retreat, and Diana proposes a new plan: all the Sapphires will channel their energy into her, something something, true love wins the day.

So Diana flies up to Kimberley, sword held aloft and blazing with violet energy, and announces, ‘boy did you make a mistake when you told me that you used to be a sad boy child! now I have only love in my heart for you!’

Karma Khameleon is like, ‘oh no, love! my one true weakness!’, and I’m like, “d… didn’t we just have this story?”

Then Diana straight-up stabs him with her love sword, and Korgo fades away with an ‘I’ll beat you next time, Captain Planet! Next tiiiiiime…’

Diana farewells the Star Sapphires, and Robinson shoehorns in this bit of virtue signalling:

Miri: Please… Diana, think of us as your sisters, too, for all time. Diana: Or “brother,” I notice. Miss Bloss: Love is love, no matter who bears the heart.

This is a welcome and needed change to the Star Sapphires. The fact that they have been portrayed up until this point as an all-women corps (with the exception of a few briefly deputised blokes) is bound up in ugly gendered ideas, exemplified by Geoff Johns’ comment in 2009 that “anyone can join, but most men are not worthy”.

But there’s something gratingly self-congratulatory in the execution of this course correction.  Robinson’s doing the absolute bare minimum here — including one or two male background characters in a handful of panels — and flagging it as progress with a phrase associated with the LGBTI community.  We haven’t even seen a single named male Sapphire, let alone one with a speaking part; I think it’s a little premature to be looking for kudos. And either Miri or Miss Bloss could very easily have been replaced in this story by a new male character.

The Sapphires teleport Diana back to Earth, where she finds DC a smoking ruin. And as the air clears, she sees—

—wait for it—

—this is truly shocking and terrifying—

THE DARK GODS MADE A MEGAZORD

THEY MADE A FUCKING MEGAZORD WITH THEIR DUMBASS FLYING STATUES

A GODDAMN MEGAZORD WHO WHAT HOW WHY.

Diana’s face does this:

[vermiculated]

i have three screencaps

here are some words about COLOSSAL.

so this movie! we were talking about it as a kaiju romdram threeway and that is still the best, that's the best for everything forever even if the giant monsters are metaphorical. I mean, isn't most of fiction: person a/person b/person a's problems which are not usually actually monsters yet on reflection are they not? Are they ever not? Ben/Matthew/Ben's past; Thomas/Edward/garbage ideas about who Thomas gets to love fuck you Fellowes; Edith/Lavinia/the constant fear of death even in a good war; platonically Priya/Daniel/Timothy; furthermore May Archer/Newland Archer/Countess Olenska because Michelle Pfeiffer is the living embodiment of a man's fear about a woman.

that went a little bit off on the shoulder there.

anyway: you love somebody, you fuck their problems.

That is not what happens in their movie either! why is this so impossible. SO THE PREMISE is that Anne Hathaway, executive producer of this film, also acting in it, is an alcoholic who likes a good time and Dan Stevens is her long-suffering boyfriend. Their scene together is actually VERY WELL DONE, and worth the price of admission for this film (uh, free, because I got it from the county library, the movie wasn't in theaters here not even the eight dollar ticket theater where I go to see US-made art house gems such as SILENCE, or Starving in Taiwan while Scorsese obsesses over a shot, or Beach Rats, a film that made the mass deletion of dick pics a searing moment of character development. anyway, not even there.) It's well-acted and convincing. Bar the material world it takes place in: is long-suffering boyfriend Dan Stevens a hedge-fund manager? this apartment is the correct combination of soulless and extravagant in its exposed brickwork and white kitchen to be the sort of place outfitted by an interior decorator and never elaborated upon by the inhabitant because he works eighty-hour weeks and drinks Stella Artois when he means to get wild. furthermore. I mean I have no idea why Anne is wearing Talbots separates to a party? maybe it was an after work function and long-suffering boyfriend Dan Stevens is justly outraged because it's Tuesday. Anne is woozy and disoriented in this bland 2.4m USD apartment, as anyone might be. Long-suffering boyfriend Dan Stevens (LSBDS) kicks Anne out by packing her bags for her, it is deeply tragic.

THE PREMISE IS: twenty-five years ago a monster stalked Seoul. Anne, having fled a breakup with a finance bro, moves back to her empty childhood home, which is actually a splendid piece of architecture, it has a wraparound porch and a lovely staircase, it's a pretty beautiful Queen Anne, and Anne is very sad, so much so that even this house does not lift her spirits. Anne, by the way, now that she is no longer in dating-money clothes, is slightly run-down: she wears untucked shirts and low-heeled booties. ( @mimaveil​ just got shivers down her spine.) Anne has a blonde-to-orange dye job that's growing out unattractively, and I have to say, it's a great wig. It tells you what you need to know about Anne and Anne’s problems.(Last week I saw Le Cercle Rouge, which is a good movie for a number of reasons among them Alain Delon's absolutely terrible wig and fake moustache.) Anne has a number of nervous tics, among them picking at the part on her crown, and smoothing hanks of hair at her shoulders. it's enticingly realistic.

okay, FINALLY. the plot begins about ten minutes into the film, when Anne is walking home from the general store and a truck passes her. the screencap below illustrates an important quality of movie-making: a gifted and radiant actress may wear a bad wig, she remains gifted and radiant.

fig. 1: gifted and radiant, even when hauling a sack. she was gifted and radiant even in Tom Hooper's The Miserables, wasn't she.

realism's for fucking suckers.

the dude in the movie (I could tell because he is on the cover of the dvd) is driving the truck and Anne starts fidgeting with her hair, and you can see her remembering that this is a tell of flirtation, and she could stop, but she carries on. this indicates that she has A Problem. a series of problems, really, shortly to become worse.

(my discussions of films may lead the careful reader to believe that I am powerfully interested in hairstyling. I am not, I guess I'm like Ernest Hemingway in that I just like hair? and whiskey, zing. Although I do enjoy scrolling through Pinterest and seeing the 'easy chignons' which require a minimum of five hands and two types of bobby pins to construct. I imagine it's the same kind of interest that leads other people to look at speedboats in catalogues. I don't want it and I can never have it, but it's an interesting sphere of human endeavor.)

Anne and the dude in the movie, hereafter called Beanface because he has a fat jaw and a protruding forehead that make his head seem slimmer in the middle and flatter on the ends, like a broad bean, go to the dude's bar, and holy smokes, yes this is 'Gone Girl.' the bar is partly boarded off because suburban Maine is economically depressed, and also it's a metaphor for feelings. Everything's a metaphor for feelings, cf comments above about monsters. Anne and Beanface and Beanface's friends, Tim Blake Nelson and a dude who looks like Eli Manning, get drunk together. I believe that we are meant to draw the conclusion that Anne is careless of her safety and fixated on alcohol and good times, such that she does not mind being the only woman in company. Ersatz Eli Manning asks her about her work, which is for an "online magazine," and he asks for the address, so that he can read her articles. He seems okay! They all drink together, hail and good fellowship.

Anne stumbles home drunk, and awakens NINE HOURS LATER (this is significant for the plot, even though she doesn't have a clock.) Anne is supposed to be selfish, it is hard for me to discern that based on her immediate and practical response to the next crisis? like so fucking what she didn’t care about a dude’s dead mom? I don’t care about that either, give Anne some real emotional depth. Someone calls her and it is horrible news: Seoul's been attacked by a monster. She follows up on the story, because she's a heroine in a movie, rather than a poor human who can hardly cope with her own life and shivers under the blankets before reaching out a hand like a wary cuttlefish and grabbing her phone to check it under the covers. Anne has substantial psychological resilience, so much so that she is able to recover from more than the mere work of existing continuously. Impressive!

PERHAPS THIS IS BECAUSE SHE IS A MONSTER? real time, we have gone about half an hour since I settled in with a scone and a glass of the finest four dollar sauvignon blanc, and Anne notices on the disaster coverage that the monster scratches her head just the same way that Anne herself does. Anne realizes, admirably quickly, that she is the monster. SHE IS THE MONSTER.

She makes a murderboard up, and the next morning, practices. She does this by stepping in a sandbox and doing semaphore.

Anne gathers up Beanface and his pals for another night of drinking and then she takes them to -- this movie is so wonderfully specific in this observation -- the playground near the woods, and she asks them to watch her on their phones. This is a nice element that grounds the film in 2017: Anne has a rose gold iPhone, and the guys have less-clearly branded screens. They see her on the screen, and they believe her in the flesh.

(this is the most outlandish part of the filme, that men would believe a woman. but they do.)

meanwhile, Anne is working at Beanface's bar, and she and the gang get wasted every night. Slowly, Beanface gives her various items of furniture, about which I got fretful. What if there are bedbugs Anne? Aren't futons terrible for your posture Anne? Anne? She's still drunk one morning when she trips into the sandbox in the playground near the woods, and Anne howling with laughter is intercut with the people of Seoul being terrified by the monster smashing around. And the monster can definitely take down a building. Anne crashes a helicopter, and she's sobered up enough to start freaking out so Beanface steps into the sandbox.

and lo, a giant robot appears!

Anne trips and kills hundreds of people. This is when I got profoundly displeased with this movie. I understand that it is a scifi black comedy, and should have a high body count. I do not like that Anne kills masses of people, and I do not like that the movie shrugs this off for much of its running time. Anne's grief about this is played as hysteria, and when Beanface brings it up, it's only to needle Anne. The movie doesn't really deal with it? which is not the fault of this movie: movies are always destroying large cities, and it's probably not racist to destroy Seoul specifically, but the face is that Anne makes inroads into destroying a city of anonymous South Koreans and this is not discussed? there's no urgent conversation between pokey traffic wardens, and little kids cooing, or any of the leavening that typically accompanies scifi violence. It's just a lot of people no one knows (sayeth the movie, we know there’s more) and they're dead?

WHICH does bring to mind the fact that by this time next month, some people (not me, I will be trapped on a dingus airplane, drinking and trying not to pick fights, travelling to New York) will have seen the next STAR WARS, or "lots of fun stuff happens, also half of the ship that I have helped obsessively curate for the last two years is back to his manipulative crazy lying and war crimes" and how do I feel about that? Not that it really matters; it's happening. It's indefensible, I have no good reasons to offer. It started out as a black comedy and now I am terribly worried that the division we have maintained (an alternative universe! unless we're getting bleak there's no need to discuss canon!) will dissolve and what an individual is doesn't matter so much, the wellspring of the popularly-named Benlouise Organa will choke me like a firehose.

On the other hand, I have still not seen the ACTUAL most important canon for enspacement, which is the comedy clip introducing Matt the Radar Technician, sorry @getlouder as I do generally try to approach everything I do with the profoundest and most glib (where these words mean "several kay of jokes and fucking") ignorance.

the screen goes black and Anne gets depressed. rightly so. (okay, I will cool it.)

Anne and Beanface inquire at the local Korean grocery and there's a very good shot across the dash of Beanface's truck, while Beanface talks about how he got free food, of Anne looking right past him and at the proprietors of the store. ignore Beanface. go on and do it! I am easily manipulated! do it! Anne discusses her plan with the gang, where they mostly make light of what she has done, which is to have a Korean translation of her apology. She goes out the next morning and after clearing the way, writes her apology in the sand.

it's actually nice, and makes me almost take back my earlier thoughts about turning Seoul into a white monster playground. almost.

we are, I notice with apprehension, only halfway through the movie. what is going to happen?

what's going to happen is that is movie is about rage, and futility, alcoholism, and power. Anne has given up drinking, but Beanface has not, and Beanface behaves in increasingly ugly ways.

a. bossing Anne around unduly b. drinking heavily and telling his friends to 'shut up.' c. yelling at his friends d. yelling at Anne e. driving his truck at Anne

Beanface and Anne go to the playground and Anne slaps Beanface, the monster slaps the giant robot, and there is much rejoicing. Beanface, to apologize, dispatches the gang with a truck full of furniture which, if a person had never seen a single schema of the cycle of abuse, might be charming. However, we are all old enough not to trust this. emotionally distant legumeheads are not going to win us over! he has a picture of his ex-girlfriend with the face scratched out, it is time to fuckin' run girl!! Anne confronts Beanface, who is pathetically hung over, and reveals much information about his sad life. buddy, nothing's so sad that you need to frighten the people of Seoul over it. nothing's so sad that I care about it.

meanwhile, Ersatz Eli Manning has decorated Anne's home. somewhere in here the two of them have sex, and it seems okay. The movie somehow resists making a reference to gendered activities here, since Anne has been living in an under-furnished depression-anger-breakup hovel, and the dude decorates with a truly amazing Victorian velvet settee. One of my greatest regrets is not buying a mustard love-seat of the same style. it was four hundred dollars! what else was I going to do with that money that was so important? Once when I had dental surgery under anesthesia, I told the dentist all about my feelings re: Real Eli Manning. He was a Jets fan. (the dentist, not Eli Manning. although maybe! explains a lot.) Real Eli Manning would, I am sure, support me in my passion for furniture. that’s a FACT. a bunch of plot happens next. I'm not going to describe it all, it doesn't really hold together in or out of context. what we need to know is that Beanface is a jerk. He continues to be mean to Anne, and when LSBDS shows up, Beanface tries to intimidate him. (It's actually a fun treat for those of us who have seen THE GUEST, because LSBDS stands in a country-western bar and looks like he wants to start a fight, and I think it might even be the same shot, it's chilling.) They metaphorically compare dicks, so Anne utters the famous line "can you guys stop talking about me like I'm not here?" They do, however, not stop talking about her like she's not there. Beanface blows the bar up with a firework, and then claims that Anne will never leave him. what the fuck! what the fuck!

I thought this was gonna be a fun threeway monster flick! Beanface then BREAKS INTO Anne's house, and we have another flashback to THE GUEST, as he and Anne fight, as people this time, and he jumps out a second-story window into the leaf-clogged pool and she brandishes a stake at him. it's actually pretty great. It's a truly good scary scene. Beanface is behaving erratically, because, as Anne figures, he hates himself, and so she makes a forbidden phone call (he's told her that she must not call LSBDS, or Beanface will create mayhem in Seoul. notwithstanding hating himself, Beanface is a little underdetermined.) to LSBDS that she will leave with him. this makes Beanface very angry. this is, of course, the point. Anne has a flashback to when they were kids (twenty-five years ago!) when she and Beanface climbed into the forest, and Beanface pretended to be retrieving Anne's foamcore model of Seoul, but IN FACT, stomped on it. 

fig. 2: Anne does her best enspacement light body horror look. I haven't seen MIDNIGHT SPECIAL or STRANGER THINGS or LOGAN, I think this is meant to be about that. ("I haven't seen a thing, here are my thoughts about it" is the only emotional register I have.) She gets to be angry, and then the lightning knocks her out, where it is revealed that she has a monster doll in her bag. a monster doll! I like the monster doll, and I like all the anger. I guess that's supposed to explain what's up. Who knows? Beanface is a jerk, LSBDS is a jerk, Anne is wearing dark sunglasses when we next see her. fuck! THE CLIMAX OF THE MOVIE IS: Anne goes to Seoul.

briefly, but enjoyably: Anne is wearing a long black coat, an oversized shirt, and boots. Her looks have been mostly unremarkable during this film, which is nice, she's sleeping on the floor after all and there are threatening men everywhere, but this? the coat looks cool as heck. it begins to rain Thematic Rain, and Anne looks around grimly. 

fig. 3: sorry to sound like I'm trying to describe the Cool Girl in a ya book. she is the Cool Girl though, she has realized that she is more than the fucking nonsense that men put on her, and she's smart enough to figure out that there is no way out if she plays their games. so she becomes a giant monster to fight them and save the world. She talks to LSBDS about how she's really fucked up, more fucked up than ever before, and hangs up on him. (she actually hangs up on him a lot in this movie. it's nice.) She then walks like a hero to the riverside where the robot has appeared. Beanface is still in Maine, and steps into the sandbox, but Anne shadowboxes with him, and the monster appears in the sandbox! The connection works both ways! unforeseen! Ersatz Eli Manning has gone to a non-arsoned bar and cheers for Anne. Anne is among the screaming crowd in Seoul and she realizes what she must do. There's some very nice cutting between Anne and the robot in Seoul, and the monster and Beanface in Maine. really first-rate. and then Anne kills the robot and the monster kills Beanface and Anne meets a cute lady and all is well. I can't believe this movie only made four million dollars u.s.

[iamjustanotheroneshotwriter]

Dangerous Mission (Quentin Beck x Reader)

[My Discord]

[WARNING: Far from Home Spoilers, BLOOD, ANGST, DEATH, CHOKING – yes, this one might be a bit brutal, I am sorry]

[2.8 K words]

[Don´t repost on other websites without asking!]

[Commissions OPEN [via DM]]

[Summary: You work quite close with Nick Fury. When he starts expecting Beck to have evil intentions, he asks you to spy on Beck by joining Becks Side. Fury pretends to fire you and you try to get a job assisting Beck.]

“Mister Beck, please, just give me a chance. I´m quite smart, top of my class, I´ve studied and I´m a good fighter. I´d make a pretty decent side kick I´d say,” you tried to argument.

“Y/L/N, I don´t think, I need a side kick. No one really had one, don´t you think so? Maybe fictional ones. But they are nothing compared to us.”

“But I´m a good fighter and maybe, you could use a guy in the chair- girl I mean, who does some background checks on the enemy for you! I mean, I could even get S.H.I.E.L.D. insights for you without you needing to ask Fury.”

“I don´t need someone like that, Y/L/N, I´m sorry. You should try to do something on your own, like you said before, you are a really good fighter!”

“What about just a companion? Your family died, didn´t they? Over in your universe? Friends would be nice to have, right?”

Beck nodded: “Sure and I think we are friends, Y/N, I really do. But you should find something to do that doesn´t involve me.”

“So, you sure you don´t even need someone, who could spy on the enemy for you? I could just do background checks for you, so no one knows I actually exist and when you need it, I could befriend them, getting even more background informations. People tend to like me!”

“Fine, fine, you win! That last one is actually not the worst idea.”

“Amazing, thank you so much, Mister Beck!”

“Just call me Quentin, you´re part of my team now!”

“Wait, your team? I thought you were working on your own?,”you said in slight shock.

“I have to tell you a few things. I´m sorry, I haven´t really be honest with you, but that´s because Fury can´t know, because he wouldn´t understand. Tony Stark has absolutely overpowered him,” Quentin started explaining.

You weren´t really sure what to say, so you just nodded. Fury was right, something about Quentin was really wrong and it just looked like you were about to find out, what it was. That was a lot easier than you actually thought and you would be able to finish your mission really fast.

Quentin continued: “First of all, I´m not from a parallel universe. To be precise I was a former employee of Tony Stark in this universe. Tony Stark pretended to be the hero, when he´s really just making up for all the stuff he´s done in his life. His company used to build weapons to kill others. And I fool used to work for him. At one point he even stole one of my ideas, my best one and called it barf. Barf. And I did not even get any credit for that invention, he just took all of the credit for it and fired me instead. Even if he´s not alive any more, I think I deserve more attention for the things I have done and he´s stolen from me. I want to become the biggest superhero of all time, so everyone will listen to me instead of praising Tony.”

You nodded. You weren´t really thinking this of this whole thing as right or anything, actually, some points just seemed crazy, but at the same time, you were kind of able to see, why he´s upset. You would´ve been too.

You started talking again: “I have never met Tony if I´m being honest, apart from one really small meeting and he never talked to me before. I have never really seen anything of him, except for what he´s done for us, but I know about his past. And I can imagine that he treated his staff really bad. So I can totally get your point. And I want to support you to get what you deserve! But why did you tell us about the elementals and that you were from a parallel universe?”

“I want to be bigger superhero than Iron Man ever was. And for that I needed to go big and believable. The crazier the more does S.H.I.E.L.D believe in that story. And, a Threat seems more dangerous to start with, if it destroyed the earth once before in the past. So we created drones, that projected a threat and me within the dangerous part of the scene, even though I never really was, and created lasers and guns for some damage.”

You reached the point where you were sure, this guy was absolutely crazy, but you couldn´t show him. You were sure, he´d be willing to kill, to reach his goal.

So you just smiled: “Quentin, that´s genius! I´d love to help you with that! I could maybe show you some hand to hand combat as a small support, makes you look like you can do even more than everyone expected!”

“Thank you so much! I´m so glad you don´t think I´m crazy!”

“Why would I? You´ve got really good reasons for all of this and your plan is more than amazing!,” you lied.

-

“So, Nick, you were right all along!,” you said to Nick Fury on the communicator when you call him at night time.

You told him what Quentin has told you and Nick was speechless in the first moment.

Nick nodded, even though you couldn´t see: “He´s absolutely crazy, that´s really dangerous.”

“Yeah, you better take him down soon! Can´t wait to work with you again, I really don´t want to help this maniac.”

“Oh no, you´ll keep on working with that maniac. Or well, for him. I need the insight, you need to stay there!”

“But Nick, I don´t want to! He´s gonna kill me, if he figures out, I went behind his back.”

“You´re a good agent Y/N, he won´t figure it out! And it´s not up for discussion. Now, I have to go, call me tomorrow night.”

You nodded and hang up. That was just great. You were terrified of what was going to happen next, but you had no choice than to continue.

-

When you arrived at the address, that Quentin gave you, the next morning, a lot of people are already in the huge abandoned theater. As soon as you entered, a woman came up to you and pointed a gun at you.

“You aren´t meant to be here,” she said immediately and you raise your hands.

Before you could respond though you heard Quentins voice behind her: “Janice, it´s alright, that´s Y/N. Our new Co-worker, the bright mind I told you all about last night.”

The woman, Janice, lowered her gun and smiled at you: “I´m really sorry, Y/N, you just seemed really young, so I thought you might be an intruder! I´m Janice Lincoln by the way, but just call me Janice.”

You nodded: “No worries, Janice. I´m only 25 and I have to admit, I look younger than I am.”

You followed Quentin inside of the theatre, Janice right behind you. Inside there was a lot of chattering going on.

“Listen up, everyone,” Quentin yelled to get the attention.

The chattering stopped within seconds and everyone looked at you and Quentin while Janice made her way into the crowd.

“This is Y/N, a former S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent and the bright mind I was talking about last night, who is joining us now to get revenge for what S.H.I.E.L.D. has done to her. Please welcome her as the newest member of our Crew.”

Everyone started clapping and cheering. Even though, you were here to spy, this felt really nice and you felt appreciated. During your work at S.H.I.E.L.D. no one ever clapped for you, no matter what you did. And even though you were always working close to Nick Fury, you have always been a number in the system of S.H.I.E.L.D. But this felt different. You weren´t a number here. Everyone would know your name, at least this situation gave you the feeling that they would.

Before you even know what happened, you were integrated in the group, drinking champagne and  talking to a woman called Victoria. Everyone here was a lot older than you, but still really nice and open-minded and you got along with all of them. You didn´t mind spending the time, Quentin didn´t needed you around, with his group. If you were honest, you started forgetting you were here because of S.H.I.E.L.D, you enjoyed yourself way too much around those people.

“Attention,” Quentin yelled suddenly.

Everyone turned around. He was wearing a motion capturing suit. You didn´t really knew what was going on, but everyone else seemed to know. Some drones flew into the theatre. Quentin yelled a few instructions towards William, who was sitting in front of some technical stuff. Suddenly the drones disappeared and an illusion appeared. It started flying through the theatre and Mysterio chasing it.

“Pause!,” Quentin yelled.

He repeated it, when William didn´t react. The second time he did and you started looking at the fight scene that was now standing still in the theatre. You were amazed by what just happened. And by the scene in front of you. It looked just like a movie, but it wasn´t. It was just a bunch of drones projecting an image. If you were honest, not just the plan was genius, but also the implementation.

“Sorry,” William apologized quietly.

Quentin looked at him and asked: “Yeah, uh, can you fast forward to the end?”

William answered something so quietly that you couldn´t even hear it and did as ordered. Quentin looked at the Illusion closely, while walking through the theatre, mumbling a few things, you couldn´t really catch either.

Suddenly he yelled “Pause!” again and William did.

“I´m not in love with this choreography, but it´ll do,” Quentin then said quietly.

“Kill the image,” he added.

The image disappeared.

“De-cloak drones.”

The drones reappeared.

Quentin looked at the drones: “Alright. Weapons!”

“You wanna weaponize them?,” William asked in slight shock.

“Yup,“ Quentin nodded.

“Weapons only. Stand-by,” William muttered.

The drones started flying around again and started shooting at the pillars. A pillar next to you started splintering. You ducked down and covered your head immediately.

“Stop!”

The drones stopped and you came up again.

Quentin started thinking: “Something... I don´t know what it is, it´s something. Just, you know what, double the damage and then run it again.”

“You want me to double it up?”

“Yeah!”

“Alright. Cover your ears!”

You did as told and ducked behind one of the tables, so nothing flying around would end up hitting you. The illusion started again and everything became incredible loud. Dust flew up around you. But it didn´t last long. When it got quiet again, you uncovered your ears and left your cover.

“That´s good. That´s good,” Quentin yelled happily, showing William a thumbs up.

“We're on schedule?”

William nodded: “Oh, yeah. Uploading software hack to EDITH network, where drones will be able to create an event big enough to cover an entire city.“

“Right, well done. Make sure every drone is weapons hot. We need maximum damage.”

Now, Guterman next to you started talking: “That's gonna cause a lot of casualties.“

Quentin nodded and smiled slightly: “Oh, yeah. More casualties, more coverage. I gotta cut through the static. London is a beautiful city and it will suffer, but they can rebuild. If I'm gonna be the next Iron Man, I need to save the world from an Avengers-level threat. But, when its new savior descends...”

The Mysterio from the projection flew towards Quentin and it almost looked, like Mysterio was just standing there. You just stood there in awe, not kowing what to say or do. Everything they pulled up was just amazing.

„Janice, you'll be in position with a quick change armor, for the victory lap?“

“Of course. Do you want to try...?,” Janice, who stood behind you, asked.

Quentin shook his head: “No, no. That's...”

He stopped, because he suddenly finds a small bug in the projection. The armor started flickering when Quentin moved his arm.

Quentin asked: “What's going on with my hand? Why is that happening?”

“Oh, one of the drones that came back from the plaza was missing a projector. It's fine,” William answered.

“Wait, and you're... You're telling me this, now?”

“It's one drone. The image will be perfect, I promise.”

“That projector is evidence. It's going to tell people what we're doing and how we're doing it. I am trying to fool seven billion people here, including Nick Fury, who happens to be the most paranoid and most dangerous person on the planet. And if he catches on before I've killed him, then he will put a bullet in my head. And nobody wants a bullet in their head! Right?”

You flinched. For a second, you weren´t sure if Quentin was maybe onto you or not. Because it seemed like that. But Quentin wasn´t paying attention to you, so maybe, he wasn´t and this had nothing to do with you.

“Right?!”

Quentin looked around and suddenly some of the drones flew towards you, Victoria and Guterman. You let out a slight scream and Quentin looked towards you.

“Sorry, Y/N, didn´t mean to,” he apologized and the drone that was in front of you moved.

The ones in front of Victoria and Guterman stayed there though and two more flew towards William and aimed at his head.

“William, can you look at me?,” Quentin asked and William looked up.

“Pull up EDITH.”

A computer voice answered: “Hello, Quentin.”

That had to be the glasses that Tony gave to Peter, Nick had told you about them recently.

Quentin looked down: “Yeah. Hi, honey. I need a level 5 search full resource protocol for this device.”

A projection of a map appeared.

“Magnifying...”

“There. Search everything going in and out of that building.”

“Located.”

Footage appeared of Peter and one of his classmates, a girl you didn´t know, standing on a bridge. The girl handed the missing part to Peter. You covered you mouth in shock.

“Shit... You know William, one day, after I've had to kill Peter Parker because of this... I hope you remember, that his blood is on your hands!,” Quentin yelled furiously.

You flinched again. You felt like Quentin was able to kill someone, but now, you were a hundred percent sure. And you were sure, that you won´t be spending another day here. Even though everyone was really nice and you felt appreciated, the risk of Quentin discovering you weren´t who you pretended to be was too high.

Quentin ran a few more tests, before finishing up for the day. Most of the others left already, except for Quentin, William and Victoria.

“Y/N, we´re usually celebrating a good- or well, almost good day over a few drinks, do you want to join us?,” Victoria asked.

You nodded: “Sure! I just need to make a call, but you can head out already, I´ll be there soon!”

Quentin smiled and you and left the theatre together with Victoria and William. When you were sure they were gone, you took out your communicator and called Nick.

“Y/N,” Nick greeted.

“Hey, Nick. I´ve got some news. One of Peter´s classmates found a piece of the drones and gave it to Peter. I think she figured out, Peter was Spider-Man. Also, they´re planning something big in-”

A gunshot pierced the air. Suddenly, you feel a strong pain in your lower abdomen.

“Y/N?,” you heard Nick asking, before you dropped the communicator.

You looked at your lower abdomen, seeing blood dripping from a wound. You pressed your hands onto it before dropping to the ground next to your communicator. Your head fell to the side and you felt how coldness and pain spread through your body. You heard the steps coming closer, stepping onto the communicator and destroying it in the process, before they person lifted up your head. It was Quentin.

“Believe me, I´m so sorry, Y/N, Fury should´ve giving this assignment to someone else. I really liked you, if I´m being honest. It´s a shame you have to die,” he said actually looking sorry.

“How did you...?,” you tried to continue, but you couldn´t, you started chocking on your own blood.

“Know this was a set-up? You aren´t the best spy if I can say that. You´re reaction to my whole being honest thing was just way too relaxed. You didn´t even call me crazy, even though you never worked for Stark and just accepted my point. But I wanted to see what will happen, so I gave you something to tell Nick to keep him satisfied and looked how this situation would continue.”

He put your head back onto the floor and got up again. You couldn´t really breath anymore and most of your body has gone numb.

“I´m sorry, Y/N, I really am,” you heard Quentin saying, before everything was gone.

[ramajmedia]

Mom: 10 Funniest Episodes, Ranked | ScreenRant

Mom is just about to enter its seventh season come its September 26th premiere date. Starring Allison Janney and Anna Faris as a dysfunctional mother and daughter duo, the series has covered their journey from recovering alcoholics to repairing their relationships with one another and basically everyone else. They're not perfect but they certainly earn awards for trying. Over the last six seasons, they've made us laugh with their antics plenty a time. We're taking a moment to narrow down some especially funny episodes, which is no easy feat when it comes to a show as funny as this one. That said, here are 10 of Mom's funniest episodes, ranked.

10 "Crazy Eyes and a Wet Brad Pitt" - Season 2, Episode 6

Bonnie and Christy are swept up into the life of high society when the woman Christy is sponsoring, Jill (Jaime Pressley) asks for their company. From there, everything spirals into luxurious gift-giving, a good highlight for a change when it comes to the uneven and oftentimes unstable lives of Bonnie and Christy. What makes this particular episode funny is the relatable moment of showing off: Christy and Bonnie model their fancy new outfits as they strut into an AA meeting. If you've got it, why not flaunt it? It's more fun to show up to any gathering in style--as long as you don't get too carried away.

9 "Fish Town and Too Many Thank You's" - Season 5, Episode 2

This episode finds Bonnie and Christy in a fix when they take Bonnie's brother's fancy car out for a joy ride. Having been suspicious of her brother being up to something earlier in the episode, Bonnie's suspicions are confirmed when Christy finds substances and marijuana in the glove compartment of the car--right as they're pulled over by an officer for a burned-out taillight!

RELATED: Everybody Loves Raymond: 10 Storylines That Were Never Resolved

We have to laugh at their unfortunate debacle as they try to act cool (especially in the moments where Christy is unsure of where the drugs ended up when she hid them). Not only that, but we loved watching the two enjoy their joy ride in the Mercedes while listening to the radio--how many of us can say we haven't done that at one time or another?

8 "Sword Fights and a Dominican Shortstop" - Season 4, Episode 2

The funniest element of this episode is Bonnie's attempts at hiding her past relationship with Jeanine (Rosie O'Donnell) from her boyfriend Adam (William Fichtner). Bonnie and Christy cross paths with Jeanine when she speaks at one of their AA meetings, and the episode takes off from there. While Christy struggles with whether or not she should quit school and take Jeanine up on her offer of working at her real estate firm, Bonnie fields questions from Adam about her relationship with Jeanine. Adam fishes for details and seems amused at continuously throwing Bonnie off-guard, much to Bonnie's chagrin (which of course we enjoy watching the two of them do in any episode).

7 "Chicken Nuggets and a Triple Homicide" - Season 2, Episode 3

Homeless Christy and Bonnie, alongside Christy's kids, finally find a home with an amazing discount out in the country. Trouble is, there's a string attached: the house comes with a history of a triple homicide. At first thinking they can move past it, Christy and Bonnie soon find that they're too terrified to stay in the house of horrors and run back to Marjorie's (Mimi Kennedy) house, where they were previously staying.

RELATED: Friends: 10 Jokes That Everyone Completely Missed

The ironic thing is that it was Marjorie masquerading as the serial killer in the window to get them to come back to her house as she missed their company. What they don't know won't kill them.

6 "Snickerdoodle and a Nip Slip" - Season 3, Episode 8

Candace (Sara Rue), newly engaged to Christy's ex Baxter (Matt Jones) arranges a fancy lunch at a golf club with Christy and Bonnie to better the friction between them for the sake of Christy and Baxter's son. Just when things seem to be coming along, Candace's and Christy's relationship turns icy once more when Candace's wealthy father takes an interest in Christy. Bonnie highly encourages Christy to go after him for his money (especially since she just ruined a Neiman Marcus dress that she can't afford) and an initially reluctant Christy complies. Funny thing is, she actually likes him, much to Candace's horror and Bonnie's joy.

5 "My Little Pony and a Demerol Drip" - Season 3, Episode 9

The fun continues in the next episode when Candace shows up to Christy's and Bonnie's home drunk in the middle of the night declaring her distaste for Christy's relationship with her father. While Christy and Bonnie make fun of her in her drunken state, Christy also acknowledges why Candace can't stand Christy's relationship with her father and saves Candace from having her eyebrows shaved off courtesy of Bonnie. Baxter later shows up looking for Candace and begging Christy to stop dating his soon to be father-in-law, even offering her a bribe.

RELATED: Big Bang Theory: The 10 Worst Things Amy Has Ever Done, Ranked

Turns out, Christy doesn't like how her new beau treats his daughter and dumps him, to which Candace smugly says it was only a matter of time before her father moved on. Christy lets this go, as she understands why Candace is as mean as she is, while Bonnie grieves for her lost fortune and her "people."

4 "Kitty Litter and a Class A Felony" - Season 2, Episode 12

Still reeling from the death of Alvin (Kevin Pollak), her boyfriend and the father of Christy, Bonnie takes drastic measures to keep him in her life. Grief affects all in different ways, but Bonnie takes it up a notch when she breaks into the home of Alvin's ex-wife to retrieve his ashes and refuses to let go of them. Christy, wanting to do the right thing, substitutes her father's ashes with kitty litter to fool her mother and returns them.  It's given that Alvin's ex-wife was being cold-hearted, so perhaps Bonnie was right in taking Alvin off her hands just for a little while. If nothing else, Bonnie's antics in this episode were nothing short of hilarious.

3 "Dropped Soap and a Big Guy on a Throne" - Season 2, Episode 18

When Bonnie takes a fall in the shower, chaos ensues. First, she and Christy face temptation when Bonnie is prescribed pain medication for her injured back. Then, when Bonnie receives a new dose of said pain medication, she becomes completely loopy.

RELATED: Arrested Development: 8 Cameos From The Office Cast

This episode highlights some of Bonnie's funniest moments as she engages in illogical conversation with a nonexistent pair of missionaries. Well, there have been worse drug-induced fantasies, scenarios or situations otherwise.

2 "Cheeseburger Salad and Jazz" - Season 2, Episode 13

Crazy, insane, outrageous--also known as another day in the life of the Plunketts. Concerned that Bonnie isn't coping with Alvin's death, Christy tricks her into going to therapy. The therapist himself is young and clearly has issues of his own (especially where it concerns his grandmother). Then, Bonnie turns the tables and Christy winds up being the subject and is tasked with drawing her feelings. While Bonnie tries to make another man into Alvin, Christy repeatedly uses her disturbing drawing of a scary face to express her feelings on Bonnie's ideas throughout the episode (especially when it comes to dating a man that Bonnie believes is her next Alvin). To sum up the episode in a word: hysterical.

1 "Wind Chimes and a Bottomless Pit of Sadness" - Season 4, Episode 12

Without a doubt, the funniest episode of the series is when Bonnie snags some of Adam's cookies that, unknown to her, contain pot. She shares them with Christy, and later their friends Jill and Wendy (Beth Hall) as well. The four of them unknowingly get high and start acting all kinds of kooky, especially when they make their way to a playground with little horses and a merry-go-round. While we're sidesplitting with laughter, Adam hurriedly tracks them down, tells them the truth about the cookies, and just as soon as the fun began, it ends when they realize they've broken their sobriety. Luckily Marjorie is there to calm them down and save the day, but we're still busily laughing over the playground scene (and rewinding the DVR so we can watch it again).

Mom has a handle on comedy of all kinds. Slapstick, dialogue, physical, punchlines. You name it, they've done it. We're grateful we've got season seven to look forward to for more laughs--it's the best show to turn to when you need recovery time from the workday.

NEXT: Friends: 10 Joey And Chandler Memes That Are Almost Too Funny

source https://screenrant.com/mom-funniest-episodes-ranked/

[illyrian-of-themyscira]

A COURT OF LOST THINGS

FOURTH PART

              “May we talk?” My heart was beating a thousand times a minute at Anya’s terrifying tone.  I nod and step away as she enters.  Her heels muffled as she walks on the carpeted floor and Anya gives the room an appraising look before taking a seat on the bed. I quietly close the door before standing near it.

              “Listen Anya, whatever you think is between your brother and I, it's not there, I promise.  Even if there was something it wouldn’t work out.  So you don't need to worry about that.”

              She looks at me before signing. “Oh silly little bat.  That’s not why I am here.”

              I frown, confuse as to what this could be about. “Then why?”

              “Because you need help getting home.  I will put aside my dislike for you.” She pauses. And she looks as if she's battling whether or not to say what she was about to say next. “To help you.”

There was a beat of silence.

              Surprised, I ask, “Why?”

              “Because the faster you understand this; the sooner you can leave.”

              Oh. “Fair enough.” I say, nodding.

              “Also.” She continues, her face stern and unsmiling. “Careful with my brother.  He plays the tough card but he feels more deeply than you think.”  

I nod and with that she struts out the door.  I slowly made my way to the bed and curled myself in the sheets, confused and elevated as to what just happened.

              The next morning, I was invited to breakfast and was seated next to Calev. I haven't said anything to him as the people around the table chat.  Pushing the eggs around my plate, I couldn’t help but think of the usual mornings I have with my family.  The loud laughter, the crude jokes...I smile softly at the thought, wondering what it would be like if my family were here.

              I felt a slight nudge on my shoulder and I blink. “What are you thinking about?” Calev asks.

              “My family,” I say softly.

              “Tell me about them,” he says.

              I look at him and jolted as I see his eyes already staring right back at me. And I realize as a thought flash in my mind that his eyes...it reminds me so much of the ocean in the Night Court...and I wanted nothing but to keep looking at them forever. But I stopped myself, remembering what he asked and I contemplated if I wanted to.

“Maybe another time,” I dismiss him.  

His shoulders slumps and he glances away. I turned back to my food then as I felt eyes on me. And as I look up, I was met with the queen’s gaze and I wondered if she saw the interaction I had with Calev. She looks as if she will say something, but before she can Anya’s voice pipes up among the table.

              “Seren, let’s meet in the library after breakfast.” she says.

              “Sounds good,” I mumble.  I resign to look down at my plate, not wanting to see any looks.

              As soon as breakfast was over, I practically run down to the library, wanting to avoid anymore interaction. Plopping down on a plush couch, I wait for Anya to come.  The room is huge with two stories and so many books. I just wanted to devour them all.  But that is not why I am here. I hear the sound of the door opening and I turn to see Anya walking in- well, more like sweeping into the room.  Her golden hair piled atop her head neatly and she wore a beautiful lavender gown clinging to every curve of her body. She says nothing to me as she plucks some books off the shelf and piles them on top of the coffee table in front of me.  

So the research begins.  We sit for two hours with no result. At the last page, I shut the book I was reading before sighing. Glancing up at Anya, I suddenly find that she looks so much like Aunt Mor and I have to blink a few times. Why didn't I realize this sooner?

              I was still staring as she finally looks up and frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

              I blink. “Sorry. You just look a lot like my Aunt Mor.”

              “Is she beautiful?”

              “Very.” I say.  At the answer, she smiles knowingly and nods.

              “Tell me about your family.” she says in a monotone voice.  Yet I can hear the little interest tone in her voice.

              I raise my eyebrow at her and ask, “Do you really care?”

              “I suppose not, but indulge me anyway.” she smiles, which looks more like a sneer but I take it.

              “Well my mother and father are the high lord and lady of the night court.  They are mates-”

              “No. Tell me about their personalities. Not their roles.”

              “Right.” I pause. “My mom’s name is Feyre.  She is beyond beautiful and kind.  She is an amazing artist and owns a small shop in Velaris.    We often are in there together painting and drawing. She is my rock and she is desperately in love with my dad, who is as achingly in love with her.  They are mates and one day, I hope to have a love like theirs.  Although, they can be gross at times,” I made a face. “but most of the time, they are cute.

My dad is handsome and one of my best friends. He calls me his princess.” I smile, thinking of the nickname he always calls me. “He was the one that taught me to fly.” I pause, remembering my first flying lesson. I was so scared but he never lost his patience. He stayed near me the whole time and was always there for me. The thought made me miss him even more and I desperately wanted to see him again. “My aunt Mor is so funny, and kind as well but she is very fierce.” I continue on. “You don’t cross her at all.  My mom is trying to set her up with someone right now.  

My Uncle Cassian is very funny and crude.  He, my father, and my uncle Azriel taught me how to fight.  He is also the commander of my father’s armies.  My uncle Azriel is very quiet but he can make me laugh harder than anyone else.  He actually taught me to swim and how to bend shadows to my will.  My aunt Nesta is a viper.” I laugh softly. “Cunning and terrifying.  She feels so strongly that she burns with it.  I admire her a lot.  

My aunt Elain is soft and sweet.  She tried very hard to teach me how to grow flowers,” I snorted, “but I always kill them.  Amren is terrifying but I like hanging out with her. She is so interesting.” I pause to take a breath before continuing.  “I often wonder if the time is the same there.  If they are still waiting for me...” Silence took over after that and Anya and I stay quiet for awhile, before-

              “I'm sorry. If I was in your shoes, I wouldn't know what to do.  I couldn’t imagine being without my family.” Her voice was quiet, thoughtful.

              “Thank you.” I smiled at her before looking at the books on the table.

“We should get back to looking,” I say softly, pointing at the books.  Two more hours pass when the library door opens again and Queen Aelin walks in.

              “I hear you two are looking into getting our little bat back home.”

              “Why does everyone call me that?”  The exasperation plain in my voice.

              “After Calev said it out loud, it just seemed to fit.” The queen explains, grinning. I groan and scrub my face.   The queen stands over the table, looking at the half-opened books scattered all over each other and frowned. “I know of a way to open a portal.  We need the wyrd keys which I have, but...I don’t know if it will work. There are a lot elements to it.”

              I stand up quickly, my heart pounding. “Please can we look into it?”

              “I will look into it with Rowa- I mean, the king.”  The queen walks up to me and squeezes my shoulder, “We will get you home.”  My eyes are wide as she sweeps out of the room.

              “She couldn’t have said that four hours ago.” Anya groans, shutting the book in her lap.  

The doors groan open as Lysandra saunters in, smiling widely and Anya falls back on the couch and closes her eyes, rubbing her temples.  Lysandra sits down beside me with a dangerous grin.

              “Yes…?” I ask with much uncertainty.

              “Two things!” She says, holding up two fingers. “First, we need to get you fitted for a gown. Second, let’s talk about you and Calev.”  At this Anya sits up.

“Now I am interested in you and Calev.”

              “There's nothing to say.  He saved my life and I guess we are friends. That’s it.” I say, arranging the books on the to give me something to do.   Both women start laughing.

              “That is such bullshit.” Lysandra says.  “That boy is so into you, it's ridiculous! There is no way you don’t have feelings for him.  I see the way you two look at each other.”

              “It doesn’t matter!  We can’t be together!” I stand up.  “I have to leave. We can’t be together. I don’t want to hurt him.  I can’t hurt him. Please,” I whimper.  I don’t know why I said ‘please’, but I collapse onto the couch.  My hands scrubbing against the tears in my eyes. My wings drooping beside me.  A hand rests on my shoulder and I look over to see Lysandra looking at me with tears in her eyes.

              “You should tell him,” she says.

              “How can I?”

              “I think you should just try,” Anya says.  We both look at her in confusion.  She analyzes her nails and says, “It is better to love him then to regret it.”  I chew over her words and maybe she is right.

              “I agree with Anya and think you need to tell him whats going on. I think he is in love with you,” At this, Anya sits up a little more.  “We all know Calev can be a cocky bastard but he feels deeply.  You are probably hurting him more doing what you are doing now.”  

I frown and nod slowly.

“Maybe you guys are right.”

             “Of course I’m right.” Both Lysandra and Anya say together.

              The week of the ball comes quick with no progress in sending me home.  No progress with Calev either. I’m just too... terrified.

I was sitting with Calev in the library, both of us reading when Lysandra stomps in, forcing me to come and try on my gown.  When we get into her rooms, the seamstress helps me put on a form fitting red velvet gown.  Its sleeves ending at a point on the middle of my hand and the dress hugged the curves I didn’t know I had till it flared at my knees.  The back was open and draped at my lower back.  

It was magnificent.  

Lysandra points me to a mirror and when I turned to look, I gasp at the woman looking back at me. She looked like a true high lady. As I stared, Lysandra grabbed my onyx locks and swept them into some kind of pretty updo that highlighted my face, especially my violet eyes.

“If this dress doesn’t make him drop his pants, nothing will,” Lysandra chuckles in my ear and my face goes beet red.

written by me

edited by @crazy-fangirl16

Also someone asked me to be tagged and I must have deleted it before I could get your user so either ask me again please or comment below. SO SORRY OML!  

If anyone ever has any questions please feel free to ask.  I don’t bite!   

[anonsally]

National Theatre Live’s Peter Pan

Last night, two of the other Hamlet roulette fans and I went to see the film of a performance of Peter Pan. One of my friends and I mostly liked it; SuperFan didn’t enjoy it as much but thought it had good elements. I’m sure it was better seen live in the theatre. The stage was large and deep, and the actors were using all of it (and the space above it), so having it flattened out on a screen meant that we were definitely missing something.

Aspects I particularly liked: 

The whole thing was performed by adults, which worked on a couple of different levels. It was both fun and sort of weirdly disturbing to watch adults behaving like children--both in the sense of running amok and being creative and using their imaginations, and in the sense of rejecting any responsibility or mature handling of emotions. In particular, Peter Pan was played by a visibly middle-aged man (Paul Hilton). 

It brought out some aspects of the source material that I’d sort of forgotten, or hadn’t really managed to put together: Wendy’s father is sort of a big baby himself--Mrs. Darling basically has to treat him like a fourth child. When Wendy and Peter play Mother and Father to the Lost Boys, they are not just playing at the most banal, stereotypically heteronormative idea of marriage; they’re also basically recreating her parents’ relationship. There is a bit of an implication that in fact, men do not ever really grow up--or certainly don’t want to--and that they expect or need women to act as their mothers, willing or not. Wendy initially tries to tell the Lost Boys that she can’t be their mother, but she does play at that role while in Neverland. But the part of this that she relishes is the telling of bedtime stories.  

There was a lot of flying, done using the tools of aerial dance--which were referred to as “fairy strings” instead of fairy dust. I thought that was a very good way to adapt it, and one that retains a sense of possibility. That is, seeing the mechanics of how they flew allowed the audience to imagine that they themselves could also do it.

Captain Hook was a woman (Anna Francolini) in this production, and she was both terrifying and somehow sympathetic. There was a great scene at the beginning of the second Act in which she sang while putting on her outfit and wig and hook. It became clear that her fear of the ticking crocodile isn’t about the crocodile, it’s about Time. She is afraid of the passage of time, of aging; she hates Peter because he gets to stay young (and because he’s infuriatingly immature and cocky).

Tinker Bell was played by a sort of chunky man (Saikat Ahamed) speaking what seemed to be a made-up language. This was very charmingly done, though Tinker Bell only appeared in a few scenes.

The sibling rivalry between Wendy and John was played up quite a bit, and was pretty entertaining.

The play didn’t condescend to kids. Parts of it were genuinely creepy or scary or disturbing, but I think many (most?) children enjoy that, provided that the villains are defeated. And at the same time, there was enough irony and humor that appeals to adults, without making it less enjoyable for kids.

I wasn’t crazy about most of the songs, but some were effective. Some of the time it was frustratingly hard to understand the words.

The cast was reasonably diverse, which was great. However, a couple of possibly problematic things: 

Nana the nurse-dog was played mostly anthropomorphically by Ekow Quartey (who also played Tootles and was very good; I recognised him from one of the Harry Potter movies). This was very funny if taken at face value, but there was definitely an issue in the fact that a black man was dressed in the clothing of a (female) servant, and playing a dog (being made to beg, etc.). My concern about that was somewhat alleviated by the fact that although Mr. & Mrs. Darling and two of their children were white, their youngest son Michael was black (John Pfumojena). But I still think it was problematic.

Tiger Lily’s ethnicity was vague--was she supposed to be Native American? The actor playing her was black (Lois Chimimba), and her face was painted, but Tiger Lily wasn’t part of a “tribe” at all. She lived in the forest with the wolves, and was portrayed as possibly friendly with Wendy, who loved wolves. Her being an “Indian” or Native American was never discussed. It was more like she was, like the pirates, a sort of “other” for the children to imagine being--or fighting against.

It’s possible that Tinker Bell was intended to evoke a jinni; I’m not sure how problematic this would be if so. 

All three of these actors also played Lost Boys (Tootles, Slightly, and Curly) and pirates. Overall, I think I see this as an adaptation that attempted to solve some of the bigger problems with the source material, but that may not have entirely succeeded, and that may have introduced new problems.

The show was directed by Sally Cookson, who’d also directed the National Theatre Live adaptation of Jane Eyre, and there were moments when things were staged similarly. Some of the actors were the same, too; Madeleine Worrall, who’d played Jane Eyre, played Wendy in this, which made for a very nice meta reference: when the Lost Boys shoot what they think is a Wendy-bird down on Tinker Bell’s instructions, they realise immediately that they’ve made a mistake. One of them says “This is no bird”, which is both a direct quote from the source material and, since the same actor was in question, a clear reference to Jane Eyre’s line “I am no bird”. 

There were also a few lines in which Captain Hook referenced Shakespeare, which I enjoyed.

[thoughtsfromthebackofmymind]

I waited for you

Jannette

Did you know that I’m not her? And I partially agreed to the wait because I didn’t believe you existed in the first place. But in the slight rare possibility that you did, you would definitely not want me. Because I’m not ‘her.’ I choke on soft words like ‘want’ and ‘need’. I hate flowers, red boxes of unpredictable strangely textured chocolate, balloons that take months to die and everything Valentines Day. I’m sorry but to me The Notebook and Pretty Woman were just okay. I am the one that fairies tell you to stay away from, I was never Cinderella, I was the evil stepmother. I was never the princess, I was the fire breathing dragon. I was Ursula, I was The Wicked Witch of the West, yet you still chose to knock on the door of this castle- my heart, unaware that an invisible fortress had been built due to much more experienced pain than a sting.

Unbeknownst to you, there’d be six more doors you’d have to get through before you ever even saw a glimpse of me. I was still wounded. Conditioned to live with a knife lodged in between my third and fourth intercostal margin which collapsed my left lung so I never left due to you being out of my comfort zone and shortness of breath. Besides I was already in a relationship with pain and I hated him but I loved him because pain had been faithful for years. I could rely on a past history that he was sure to come. My first love on Earth cheated on me, visiting me on holidays bearing beautifully wrapped gifts of empty promises tied with bows the colour of wishful thinking and then leaving me. An egg can’t produce without a seed and winter came, then summer, then spring, then fall and I guess mine took the option to leave because although mummy said I was beautiful, and that it wasn’t my fault, it still felt like incarcerated incidence so beauty, to me, was incomplete. Like having only five heartbeats with no reason to stand up, there was no heart in the house tonight, nights like this I wish and I’d pray;

“Our Father who art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy name, please allow the clouds to gather and the sky to turn to grey. Lead us not into temptation. Oh how I wish that it would rain so when I look in the sky I can see my reflection.”

I got nervous when you got to door six,  but surely when you saw the auction off art on the wall no one else wanted, redescribing each and every one of my wounds, you’d see the ugliness of pain. That I’m not the beauty you thought me to be when you sat in an audience listening to a woman spit a poem about how she would wait. So confidently as I did every morning after taking off poetry and music and talents and great things others think of me because they’re just John’s Legends and can’t see all of me. I stepped outside to bask in the sun. He’s the one that knows me. He loves me. He has the ability to forsee and still loves me. So I stepped outside only to find you sleeping night after night in front of the door of my cold heart, “who led you inside?” I was terrified. No one has ever been this close but all you wanted to do was show me that we shared the same old wounds. There were no butterflies, just extreme discomfort because comfort is uncomfortable to someone more acquainted with pain than love. Fear began to eat at my mind and scared crows pucked up my warm heart long ago but even with the strength of ten men I’ve had no courage. I promise I’m not lying.

But for some strange reason you still felt like heels click three times. I was a relentless unpredictable storm. And I guess those other men were made of straw and hay because I huffed and puffed but the spirit that your brick body house wouldn’t go down. Why couldn’t I admit that your hand placed gently on the back of my neck calms me? Instead I accused you of trying to control me. I hated the way my heart became a defiant teenager and began listening to you instead of me. And even after you kept giving me your ‘I LOVE YOUs’, I couldn’t stop them from replaying in my mind when my spirit, my spirit was a witness to the Christ that I saw in your life. I started getting tired of the fight. I decided to give it a try just to prove to you that you too would leave just like my seed and die before petals, stems and leaves. My trusting heart had been attacked. I didn’t know the difference between accepting abuse and being the peacemaker. I’m left with a pacemaker, nobody wanted me. My rhythm is abnormal.

I lost my footing and I kept asking myself ‘who are you?’ While climbing the attractive mount Everest of your mind, I attempted to hike a little higher to take a peek at your soul. I lost my footing on that trail, dangled off the cliff of your condition of unconditional and that is where I fell in love, skydiving on the wings of your patience. Thank you for catching me. But this love, it’s too much. This love is just way too much because your smouldering volcano erupted upon my arrival. Smothering larva, I mean hot larva chasing me down, burning the pain of my past. Scorching heat on the back of my heels, a fire that screams ‘just let me love you!’  I fell, I am consumed, I am overwhelmed. Did you know that I am crazy? Did you know broken homes and corrupt fathers, fictitious family figments, fractured bones and stained glass windows shattered my windpipe? It’s hard to breathe when anyone gets close. Stand close. And just let me inhale your exhale. Stay close. Even when I punch you with my words, stay close. Even when I cut you with my fears, stay close. Look into my chilling eyes and remember, look at my chilling eyes and remember, look at my bleeding knees and remember, look at my bleeding lips and remember, I fell for you. And it took me thirty three years to let that pain die so that new hope and new life could resurrect.

You caught my tears like wilted worn bible pages, stored them up in bottles and let the collection remind me that as long as I stay close to him, I’d never thirst again. And when God removed the scales from my eyes, I remember looking at you for the first time and finally understood the meaning of the word ’Behold’. I remember the first time I looked into your eyes, it was like staring at the back of the moon only to find that it shines too. You wear patience like a tailored suit. And all I could do was thank God and your mother for raising the man I never believed could exist. You begin to see me transforming by the renewing, I was so comfortable cocooning as you studied the freckles in my face like constellations. How sweet it is to know that I’m with someone who would still find me beautiful with stretch marks? Even when I begin being stretched as I press towards the mark.

We are not Romeo and Juliet. We are just Matthew and Janette. We too are a beautifully written tragedy. We too fought in the beginning like Capulets and Montagues. We too persevered in love’s name. In love’s name, in Jesus’ name, two lovers destined to kill themselves daily for the love of Christ. And although we know the world considers this poison, we will continue to drink truth. Stabbing ourselves with the daggers of his word constantly to convictive. We live to fight another day, we live to die another day in order to live another unending day with our king in eternity. So far from what our adversaries had planned and written for our ending, but he’s nothing but a pretender. Trying to be an author and a finisher, posing as an angry, weak William that Shakespeare but as though many of his weapons would be formed, they’ll never prosper here.

And I know they told you, “Goodluck with her.” Many have tried. Cause not even Charlie could Parker, but your consistent love would make Ella stop having fits and put down her dukes. You have me willing to walk and hop on cold trains even on a holiday. Inspire the desire to not be headstrong but armstrong, you had me in a sentimental mood willing to walk miles to get to you. You became my black coffee and I couldn’t move on. I felt dizzy because I was out of my element like a uncovered monk but you’ve been a good man for more reasons than I could count. May the Lord continue to orchestrate this beautiful lifelong complex cord progression.

I could make a million promises with a long list of what I could vow but we are flawed human beings. And if there’s anyone who could break one before night’s end, it would be me that could show you how. So today I would let my yes be my yes, my no be my no and today my I do my I do. I vow that at times I will fail you. I vow that at times I will fall short but in failures and short comings, I won’t tap out, I won’t give up. I vow to gather arguments like evidence left behind by unsubs, having the humility to say I have this criminal mind and it is CSI for the sake of Law and Order. I vow not to buy into false romanticism saying things like “you complete me” because you don’t. In Christ I have already been made complete, the head over all. So I vow not to attribute glory to you that only belongs to God.

To you and only you today I commit, to you and only you I submit, with an attitude. The attitude of Christ Jesus. Who although existed in the form of God did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped but humbled himself and emptied himself  and made himself to the point where he became obedient even to the point of death. Even death on the cross and he would be my constant reflection as death on that cross was the greatest public display of affection. I’ve learned that he loved me enough to give me you, and so I vow to you my last breath.

[hope-n-prayers-blog]

Did you know that I’m not her? And I partially agreed to the wait because I didn’t believe you existed in the first place. But in the slight rare possibility that you did, you would definitely not want me. Because I’m not ‘her.’ I choke on soft words like ‘want’ and ‘need’. I hate flowers, red boxes of unpredictable strangely textured chocolate, balloons that take months to die and everything Valentines Day. I’m sorry but to me The Notebook and Pretty Woman were just okay. I am the one that fairies tell you to stay away from, I was never Cinderella, I was the evil stepmother. I was never the princess, I was the fire breathing dragon. I was Ursula, I was The Wicked Witch of the West, yet you still chose to knock on the door of this castle- my heart, unaware that an invisible fortress had been built due to much more experienced pain than a sting. Unbeknownst to you, there’d be six more doors you’d have to get through before you ever even saw a glimpse of me. I was still wounded. Conditioned to live with a knife lodged in between my third and fourth intercostal margin which collapsed my left lung so I never left due to you being out of my comfort zone and shortness of breath. Besides I was already in a relationship with pain and I hated him but I loved him because pain had been faithful for years. I could rely on a past history that he was sure to come. My first love on Earth cheated on me, visiting me on holidays bearing beautifully wrapped gifts of empty promises tied with bows the colour of wishful thinking and then leaving me. An egg can’t produce without a seed and winter came, then summer, then spring, then fall and I guess mine took the option to leave because although mummy said I was beautiful, and that it wasn’t my fault, it still felt like incarcerated incidence so beauty, to me, was incomplete. Like having only five heartbeats with no reason to stand up, there was no heart in the house tonight, nights like this I wish and I’d pray; “Our Father who art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy name, please allow the clouds to gather and the sky to turn to grey. Lead us not into temptation. Oh how I wish that it would rain so when I look in the sky I can see my reflection.” I got nervous when you got to door six,  but surely when you saw the auction off art on the wall no one else wanted, redescribing each and every one of my wounds, you’d see the ugliness of pain. That I’m not the beauty you thought me to be when you sat in an audience listening to a woman spit a poem about how she would wait. So confidently as I did every morning after taking off poetry and music and talents and great things others think of me because they’re just John’s Legends and can’t see all of me. I stepped outside to bask in the sun. He’s the one that knows me. He loves me. He has the ability to forsee and still loves me. So I stepped outside only to find you sleeping night after night in front of the door of my cold heart, “who led you inside?” I was terrified. No one has ever been this close but all you wanted to do was show me that we shared the same old wounds. There were no butterflies, just extreme discomfort because comfort is uncomfortable to someone more acquainted with pain than love. Fear began to eat at my mind and scared crows pucked up my warm heart long ago but even with the strength of ten men I’ve had no courage. I promise I’m not lying. But for some strange reason you still felt like heels click three times. I was a relentless unpredictable storm. And I guess those other men were made of straw and hay because I huffed and puffed but the spirit that your brick body house wouldn’t go down. Why couldn’t I admit that your hand placed gently on the back of my neck calms me? Instead I accused you of trying to control me. I hated the way my heart became a defiant teenager and began listening to you instead of me. And even after you kept giving me your ‘I LOVE YOUs’, I couldn’t stop them from replaying in my mind when my spirit, my spirit was a witness to the Christ that I saw in your life. I started getting tired of the fight. I decided to give it a try just to prove to you that you too would leave just like my seed and die before petals, stems and leaves. My trusting heart had been attacked. I didn’t know the difference between accepting abuse and being the peacemaker. I’m left with a pacemaker, nobody wanted me. My rhythm is abnormal. I lost my footing and I kept asking myself ‘who are you?’ While climbing the attractive mount Everest of your mind, I attempted to hike a little higher to take a peek at your soul. I lost my footing on that trail, dangled off the cliff of your condition of unconditional and that is where I fell in love, skydiving on the wings of your patience. Thank you for catching me. But this love, it’s too much. This love is just way too much because your smouldering volcano erupted upon my arrival. Smothering larva, I mean hot larva chasing me down, burning the pain of my past. Scorching heat on the back of my heels, a fire that screams ‘just let me love you!’  I fell, I am consumed, I am overwhelmed. Did you know that I am crazy? Did you know broken homes and corrupt fathers, fictitious family figments, fractured bones and stained glass windows shattered my windpipe? It’s hard to breathe when anyone gets close. Stand close. And just let me inhale your exhale. Stay close. Even when I punch you with my words, stay close. Even when I cut you with my fears, stay close. Look into my chilling eyes and remember, look at my chilling eyes and remember, look at my bleeding knees and remember, look at my bleeding lips and remember, I fell for you. And it took me thirty three years to let that pain die so that new hope and new life could resurrect. You caught my tears like wilted worn bible pages, stored them up in bottles and let the collection remind me that as long as I stay close to him, I’d never thirst again. And when God removed the scales from my eyes, I remember looking at you for the first time and finally understood the meaning of the word ’Behold’. I remember the first time I looked into your eyes, it was like staring at the back of the moon only to find that it shines too. You wear patience like a tailored suit. And all I could do was thank God and your mother for raising the man I never believed could exist. You begin to see me transforming by the renewing, I was so comfortable cocooning as you studied the freckles in my face like constellations. How sweet it is to know that I’m with someone who would still find me beautiful with stretch marks? Even when I begin being stretched as I press towards the mark. We are not Romeo and Juliet. We are just Matthew and Janette. We too are a beautifully written tragedy. We too fought in the beginning like Capulets and Montagues. We too persevered in love’s name. In love’s name, in Jesus’ name, two lovers destined to kill themselves daily for the love of Christ. And although we know the world considers this poison, we will continue to drink truth. Stabbing ourselves with the daggers of his word constantly to convictive. We live to fight another day, we live to die another day in order to live another unending day with our king in eternity. So far from what our adversaries had planned and written for our ending, but he’s nothing but a pretender. Trying to be an author and a finisher, posing as an angry, weak William that Shakespeare but as though many of his weapons would be formed, they’ll never prosper here. And I know they told you, “Goodluck with her.” Many have tried. Cause not even Charlie could Parker, but your consistent love would make Ella stop having fits and put down her dukes. You have me willing to walk and hop on cold trains even on a holiday. Inspire the desire to not be headstrong but armstrong, you had me in a sentimental mood willing to walk miles to get to you. You became my black coffee and I couldn’t move on. I felt dizzy because I was out of my element like a uncovered monk but you’ve been a good man for more reasons than I could count. May the Lord continue to orchestrate this beautiful lifelong complex cord progression. I could make a million promises with a long list of what I could vow but we are flawed human beings. And if there’s anyone who could break one before night’s end, it would be me that could show you how. So today I would let my yes be my yes, my no be my no and today my I do my I do. I vow that at times I will fail you. I vow that at times I will fall short but in failures and short comings, I won’t tap out, I won’t give up. I vow to gather arguments like evidence left behind by unsubs, having the humility to say I have this criminal mind and it is CSI for the sake of Law and Order. I vow not to buy into false romanticism saying things like “you complete me” because you don’t. In Christ I have already been made complete, the head over all. So I vow not to attribute glory to you that only belongs to God. To you and only you today I commit, to you and only you I submit, with an attitude. The attitude of Christ Jesus. Who although existed in the form of God did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped but humbled himself and emptied himself  and made himself to the point where he became obedient even to the point of death. Even death on the cross and he would be my constant reflection as death on that cross was the greatest public display of affection. I’ve learned that he loved me enough to give me you, and so I vow to you my last breath.