#she and Hogan are very similar in some ways

[radarsteddybear]

A Marya spinoff definitely could have been something

#Hogan's Heroes #Marya #Marya the White Russian #she and Hogan are very similar in some ways #both coming up with insane plots that largely rely on manipulating those around them to further their causes #except she's coming at it from the perspective of a woman who's MO is to seduce her way close to those with power #and he's coming at it from the perspective of a POW working within the military hierarchy #and Hogan trusts his men and lets them in on his schemes while Marya won't show her cards to *anyone* #it's not that she doesn't trust Hogan (or his men) #it's just that her brand of manipulation relies on them acting and reacting in specific ways #and if they know what she's up to they might not do what she wants #anyway this is all to say that the female-led counterpart to Hogan's Heroes would be a show staring Marya #Teddy Bear musings #original post

[storiesofsvu]

Olivia Benson Caring for a s/o w/anxiety

FAM! This took way longer to write than I expected, but honestly, 99% of it is because it’s LITERALLY my life. I’ve been coping/dealing with anxiety/panic disorders for years and its terrible. So yes, the restaurant story is something that happened to me, darker alcohol WILL affect your nerves the next day, and for all of you out there who deal with similar situations, I see you, I hear you and I feel you. I know how terrible and tough this is and I love each and every one of you. 

Also TW: Anxiety/panic attacks

***

The first time it happens is after a very long week of work with barely enough sleep to keep you going, the entire squad had been living off caffeine to keep going which only made the situation worse. You and Olivia had brought a couple of files to Barba for more warrants and end up getting into it with him, he in turn comes after you, criticizing your police work. You do your best to hold your ground but he can’t help but roll his eyes at the tremor in your lower lip, the glassiness of your eyes, you storm from the room and he mutters something that sounds like ‘pathetic’. Liv tells him to smarten up and not be such an asshole, finding you outside Hogan Place pacing, trying to burn off the adrenaline burning through your veins.

At first she thinks that you were just riled up, tired from the rough week, upset at the way Barba came after you, though he was always an ass, and you were usually able to spit back just as much fire as he was. She gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, telling you to go home, try to get some sleep, take the weekend off.

The second time she noticed you’d been on edge all day, snapping a couple times you probably shouldn’t have, your hands were nearly shaking, your paperwork was a scribbly mess when it was usually immaculate. The squad headed out for drinks, you were beyond thankful to be done with the day, dropping down into a chair, swigging back a hefty amount of your drink. The bar was crowded today, loud, the squad was letting off steam, shouting over the music, Amanda started flicking bits of coaster across the table at Carisi, making fun of whatever story he was telling. It only took a second for you to down the rest of your drink, slipping away from the table, flagging down a cab. Everything rung in your ears, feeling completely overstimulated, you needed quiet, you needed peace, you needed darkness. You felt your body trembling the entire ride home, your heart palpitating way too fast, your chest constricted so tightly you felt like you could burst at any second. You hated being enclosed in the small space, hating more at the music playing from the radio, trying to take deep breaths, quickly tossing cash at the driver as you clambered out, thankful for the cold air.

When you got up to your apartment you burst into tears, finally letting out the tension in your body. You felt like you sobbed for hours, throat hoarse by the time you thought you were done, the need to move still driving through you, pacing back and fourth through the living room. Your phone pinged, Olivia, asking if you were okay. You replied with a simple “I need you here please.”

It felt like moments later that she was at your door, you buried yourself into her arms, a fresh set of tears throbbing through your body. She held you close, tight, the embrace that you simply needed so badly in that moment. Her lips softly meeting your head, she was concerned, but didn’t ask any questions until you finally pulled away, wiping your eyes and blowing your nose. A muted ‘Sorry’ coming from your lips, barely able to meet her gaze.

She guides you to the couch, asking if you want to talk, you apologize again, saying that nothing particular is wrong. It takes a minute, her soothing squeeze of your hand makes you meet her eyes, admitting that you deal with anxiety. It’s something that sprouted unexpectedly, you’d never dealt with it in your adolescent life, and it was always worse when you were low on sleep, had caffeine, or the day after a big drinking night. You got overstimulated easily, and tonight it was just too much for you. As much as it wreaked havoc on your body you preferred not to take the Ativan, attempting to calm yourself down, doing breathing exercises, cooling your body down, something as simple as jumping jacks to burn off the extra adrenaline. You knew things could be a hell of a lot worse and you didn’t want the Ativan to lose it’s effect when you had an actual panic attack. 

The first time you’d had a panic attack was your last year of college, you’d been out late with friends, having downed at least a full bottle of red wine, despite having to open the restaurant Saturday morning. You felt groggy and on edge all morning, your body shaking with energy, the hungover part of you divulged in greasy food and a Venti espresso filled coffee to give you the energy to get through the day. You felt light headed, shaky, nearly like you couldn’t breathe. It was Pride, the restaurant would be FULL this afternoon, so you mentioned to your manager that you weren’t sure if you could make it through the 10 hour shift, knowing something was wrong. It was halfway through taking payment for a table that you stumbled to the hostess stand, a simple “I can’t breathe.” before you had to sink to the floor, scared and barely able to see. You’d already taken a Benadryl and your inhaler. The hospital wasn’t able to figure out what was wrong, but upon doing more research over mental health you figured it out yourself months later.

You’d much rather take the Ativan in something like that than the little anxiety bursts you experienced.

Olivia’s quick to take this into part of her daily life. She doesn’t overbear you with questions, but she’s going to be checking in with you, a soft smile on her face, a little squeeze to the shoulder.

She always makes sure your medication is refilled before it really needs to be, and that it’s in your bag at all times. It can only take a second for something to trigger you, and she wants to make sure that you’re always taken care of.

She knows that sometimes you need her embrace like nothing else, and sometimes that physical contact will make things horrifically worse, always asking for your permission before she touches you.

She comes to learn that temperature is a big thing with anxiety, with the higher heart rate you’re burning up. She’ll always drag you outside in the cooler months, letting you breathe until you calm down, despite the fact that she’s freezing. In the summer months she always makes sure the ice cube tray is full, holding one against your neck or wrists, cooling down your blood, reminding you that it’s going to be okay.

Olivia encourages you into a physical activity, knowing that morning runs will help you burn off the extra adrenaline coursing through you, she enlists Amaro to teach you some boxing techniques, taking out your emotions that way.

You very well know what she’s doing, but you won’t admit it to her, simply coming home to her with a smile on your face, kissing her softly as you tell her how much you love her.

Olivia’s always going to keep a careful eye on you, watching for signs that she knows mean you’re slipping into a state of overstimulation, making sure you’re getting enough sleep, getting enough healthy foods, not using alcohol to cope (or that if your are that you’re onto things like vodka soda and not scotch or red wine ‘cause they trigger it more). She always makes sure to fill your coffee with half decaf, knowing how the caffeine affects the jitter in your chest. 

Most of all she never judges you for it, she accepts it as part of who you are, and you remind her of how thankful you are of that every night. Her heart swells with the fact that she’s the only person you want to be around when you’re going through an attack, she knows it isn’t ideal, but knowing she’s the only one allowed to touch you makes it known that you love her, and only her. ___________________________

#olivia benson #olivia benson x reader #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #svu #law and order

[thealmightyemprex]

Sci Fi Month :I read the Canon Spider Man script by Ted Newsome and John Brancato

So for those not in the know ,in the 80's -the 90's there were several attempts at a Spider- Man movie,most of which were done by Cannon ,best known for low budget fair ,though they attempted both prestige and blockbusters .Now they went through several scripts but this is the one that got the closest to being made from what my research tells me .

So Dr Otto Octavious makes a device that shifts reality that goes wrong ,fusing him to metal appertauses and mutating a spider which bites wannabe photographer Peter Parker.As Octavious descends to murder,madness and crime ,PArker attempts to use his abilities for fame and fortune till through tragedy he learns with great power comes great responsibility

So I mostly really liked this ,this is one of the better unmade scripts Ive read .....It is a first draft so there are things that seem to ambitious and definately thing that needed to be ironed out

Peter/Spiderman himself is pretty well handled,they got the quips and cleverness and the orgin is pretty faithful to the comics ,no real notes

Doc Ock is well written ,a broody obsessive who is driven to complete his experiment at the cost of humanity .Now I liek how Ocks and Spidey orgins are intertwined ...But their is no dynamic to them :To Peter ,Ock is just a crazy guy ,to Ock ,Spidey is a mere annoyance .....And there are two perfect ways the script couldve fixed that.Simple way is instead of making Ock just annoyed with Spidey,have him monologue and really go into his God complex .In the comics Ock is VERY verbose and Spidey is infamously chatty,so really lean into adding some heroo-villain banter .Option 2 is Octavious is a professor at Peters university ......And it does nothing with that.Well how about make Otto a mentor to Peter,or the one student he likes ,hell later versions really lean into that dynamic for good effect ,it adds a sense of tragedy.Speaking of later versions ,Octavius's motive is similar to 2004's Spider Man 2 ,so am curious if they took some inspiration from this script

Harry is kind of typical 80's weird friend but the friendship feels genuine and I liked him

This Aunt May feels more modern,more of a stylish cool old lady then the doddering oldwoman about to keel over every 5 minutes from the comics

Uncle Ben is not in much of it but he is a kind if not bright guy who tries his best to show he cares about Peter

I am conflicted on Liz Allen ,I like the clever duel she has with Peter but as a love interest the film feels like it is juggling so much stuff it feels out of place ,though the last scene is swweet

Jameson is typical Jameson thogh with non nuance hes pure comic relief

As for the rest of the script the action is well described ,comedy is pretty funny,drama hits,and Ocks murder scenes are effectivel menacing .The only real oddity is some of the 80's pop culture refrences ,like David Letterman and Hulk Hogan are characters in the film

I do think if this had a bit more work it could be a good script for a film.I very much enjoyed this

@ariel-seagull-wings @piterelizabethdevries @the-blue-fairie @themousefromfantasyland @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @princesssarisa @countesspetofi @filmcityworld1

[bizarrequazar]

GJ and ZZH Updates — October 16-22

<<< previous week || all posts || following week >>>

This is part of a weekly series collecting updates from and relating to Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan.

This post is not wholly comprehensive and is intended as an overview, links provided lead to further details. Dates are in accordance with China Standard Time, the organization is chronological. My own biases on some things are reflected here. Anything I include that is not concretely known is indicated as such, and you’re welcome to do your own research and draw your own conclusions as you see fit. Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or additions. :)

[Glossary of names and terms] [Masterlist of my posts about the situation with Zhang Zhehan]

10-16 → Bluebird posted a translation of the essay written by the person who attended a cult-like fan-meetup of Zhang Sanjian fans, as a followup to the chatlog translated by Flora the previous day. The essay gives a more detailed account of the event.

→ Starting on 10-14, Gong Jun stopped using umbrellas to cover himself from paparazzi when he arrives to hair and makeup for Fox Spirit Matchmaker. 🍬 On this day, he wore a pair of Hogan shoes from last year’s collection that Zhang Zhehan wore on 2021-08-10.

10-17 → Going-to-work 🍬: The shirt Gong Jun was wearing is the same (even in the way it’s ironed) as one Zhang Zhehan wore in an ad campaign released 2021-04-28. He also possibly had a hickey. 

10-18 → Going-to-work 🍬: Gong Jun wore an outfit very similar to the one he wore on the same day in 2021. The hickey(?) was still visible.

→ Colgate posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ QuelleVous posted about the tea shop, specifically about how she hired people to visit it and take some footage. Its current location is on the 19th floor of an office building in a space previously rented by a tech startup and requires a QR code for entry, was only open five of the fifteen times the people went despite it being during its stated business hours, and if you spend enough money the shop attendants promise to bring Kele (the cat) out during your next visit. [followup by Flora]

→ LockNLock posted customer-submitted photos that include a large display on a desktop monitor of the time 17:11.

→ Fans made a donation of 16,431.64 RMB in Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan’s names to the Beijing New Sunshine Charity Foundation Children's Palliative Care Special Fund Project supporting children with leukemia. 

→ 361° posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ The company that Zhang Zhehan requested to be dissolved on 09-26 was successfully deregistered, meaning that there are no pending litigations or debts against it or himself as sole proprietor.

→ Safeguard posted a collection of photo ads featuring Gong Jun to their Taobao.

10-19 → Gong Jun posted a commercial he did for Colgate. Colgate reposted it and mentioned that a livestream will be held soon, later announced to be on 11-01 at 17:00 on their Taobao.

→ Going-to-work 🍬: One of the staff(?) near Gong Jun was holding a CPF orange plush charm. There was also a second possible hickey. Update 10-23: The person with the orange charm has been concluded to most likely be a fan, based on the fact that a few days later she was joined by two others with the same charms.

→ Gong Jun posted a commercial he did for Safeguard. (1129 kadian)

→ NCAC Children (committee for child actors) posted an article about Gong Jun’s song Little Shoulders.

→ A video was spread of a Zhang Zhehan lookalike (almost definitely a body double / deepfake) sitting outside a restaurant in Shenzhen.

10-20 → Going-to-work 🍬: Gong Jun wore a hat with a graphic of a sun setting behind a rooftop (easily mistaken for mountains at a glance) and the text “Sunset & Flowers”. He wore the matching sweater on the same day last year. Fan Observation: The clothing’s brand, Kijun, is a womenswear company and therefore not something likely to be in his normal radar. It’s possible he specifically sought it out after seeing the design. (Mountains and flowers are easily associated with Word of Honor, Zhang Zhehan is known to like sunsets.)

→ The Taobao Livestreams official Weibo posted a teaser for upcoming celebrity livestreams, including ones that Gong Jun will be appearing in on 10-24 (Hogan, 19:30), 11-01 (L’Oreal, time TBA), and 11-02 (Hsu Fu Chi, 15:00). There’s also a rumor about a 361° livestream on 11-06.

→ Kangshifu posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ NCAC Children posted a promotional video for Little Shoulders spoken by Gong Jun, filmed around 07-15 (same outfit as in the pre-recorded Fresh livestream posted that day). [text translation]

10-21 → Hogan posted a “missing dog poster” with a dog doodle based off the one Gong Jun previously did. (1129 kadian) Caption: “Help! @ Gong Jun Simon's puppy ran away from home this morning. We found a note on site that said, ‘I'll be back when I become a puppy warrior!’”

→ Kangshifu posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

10-22 →  A photo ad for Fresh featuring Gong Jun was used on Weibo’s opening screen.

→ Hogan posted three photos including the dog doodle. (1129 kadian) Caption: “@ Gong Jun Simon's puppy has not been found, but so far, we have received clues from many enthusiastic people, where is the puppy's destination??” They later also posted a WeChat article to the same effect.

→ Kangshifu posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

Additonal Reading: → A notable late addition to last week’s post: ELLEMEN Fresh posted an article on 10-11 about period drama costumes, in which they included a section talking about Gong Jun’s costuming in Word of Honor. → Flora’s daily fan news thread  → The National Congress ran this week, where one of the main things discussed was that every citizen should experience fairness before the law. 

<<< previous week || all posts || following week >>>

This post was last edited 2022-10-23.

#Zhang Zhehan #Gong Jun #Word of Honor #woh cast #lld timeline

[the-firebird69]

Our son and daughter wants to start the recycled motors company. And we are enthused he does like her hair but she's a little girl I mean teeny jam and he looks a little bit different but these guys are wearing the outfit that fits with our recycled motors company motorcycle it's not really big it fits him perfectly it's a little large for hers but we lower it may slightly different size tire and rim and smaller motor and different color and it would be closer to her outfit it's massively purple it's kind of cool looking and his would be a similar green a little bit shinier he says and will come up with some prototypes for them to have and they can use them for the upcoming real movie show he suggest doing a reality show it has clips of the movie and then you can play the recording of the movie so what they say is we want the stuff but we know where it is and they wanted to get into it so you know he's trying and we're going to go ahead and do this and the recycled motors company and he's and he's now thinking David's Harley will handle the others and what you want to do is well we're going to post it separate this would be a new motorcycle and we have to build these and recycling makes them very cheap

Thor Freya

We could recycle the others but Davis Harley will be all new material because they're going to be light cycles and it has to be stronger steel

We do agree with this approach and everyone's putting it all in and they're going to label these Honda dax and ice bear and I'm going to label them as Davies Harley spelled correctly though and we'll have names for them.

Thor Freya

Olympus

And don't embarrass me again I don't like your names little a-hole little bastard that's a little bit much not for our company so he says that's going to be the street legal mini bike and that's coming up and it's going to be those names and it's not going to be associated with David Harley which provides real motorcycles and real real small scooter motorcycles to get to work and it's really actually serious that legal street legal mini bike but I think that he's right and a lot of Harley-Davidson guys ride these and they like the names already and they're saying it and I really kind of big but will probably have a sturdy and he wants to use recycled materials to make it less expensive

By the way they bought way too many of those real cheap mini bikes didn't work very well so we're not going to post anything real cheap

Hera

Thank God we got these guys on our side or bothering them and harassing and we don't have our plan running very well it's not running good.

Hulk Hogan in the gang like four of us

Olympus

[lokiondisneyplus]

Most Marvel post-credit scenes hint at the future. Loki opted for a blunter approach: the God of Mischief would return in season 2.

Based on the final turn of events, there was really no other choice: Loki (Tom Hiddleston), having journeyed to the furthest point in spacetime with his variant Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) to meet the founder of the TVA, a scientist-turned-survivor-of-multiversal-war known as He Who Remains (Jonathan Majors), finds himself zapped into a new reality when his lady self slays the omnipresent being. The mind reels!

Creator Michael Waldron takes delight in the endless possibilities of Loki’s core premise. And as a veteran of Rick and Morty, he knows what anchors a mind-bending show, and what will keep Hiddleston’s character hurtling through his chaotic, rewritten future. Below, Polygon talks to Waldron about landing on the key choices of Loki season 1, what to expect from season 2, and a bit on his next project, the wrestling drama Heels, which is set to premiere on Aug. 15.

Did you know there’d be a second season of Loki from the beginning or was that choice made later in the process?

Michael Waldron: We always knew that it was a possibility. We always knew that we wanted to propel Loki and these characters out into the MCU after this, into further stories. But that didn’t really crystallize as a sure thing until we were in production and everything. And as we were really figuring out the finale.

So you were still cracking the ending as you shot the show?

There was a hiatus due to the pandemic. So things were constantly being retooled because of that. I think, by and large, everything with He Who Remains and the Sylvie-Loki conflict was always there. But that cliffhanger was the sort of thing that suddenly became a really appealing opportunity, a chance for that to lead into a second season.

What element of the series helped you crack the macro story of Loki, and made all the other pieces fall into place? Each episode almost feels like a standalone adventure, similar to Rick and Morty, but what helped it all click?

The first couple of weeks in the writers room was just laying out the individual episodes. It was very important to me that each episode stood on its own, and you could say “This is the Lamentis episode,” “This is the apocalypse moon episode,” “This is the Void episode.” I didn’t want it to just be cut up chapters and have one long continuous story. Obviously, we had to figure out the time travel for things to slot into place. I think a big idea for us was the way you get around the TVA by hiding in apocalypses. That felt like such a big, cool, exciting idea that it drove the action of episode 2, episode 3, and in a way it’s like Alioth is the ultimate apocalypse that He Who Remains is hiding behind. That sci-fi idea cracked a lot open for us. I know that after we had that I went home and I slept a little sounder.

Did adding the multiverse to the Marvel Cinematic Universe feel like blowing something up or expanding it, in terms of narrative possibilities?

In the same way that after the first couple Iron Man movies, and with the first Avengers, suddenly these movies were kind of going to space. Then we had Guardians. I think of the multiverse as another version of that. It’s new ground to cover, and particularly interesting because characters meeting other versions of themselves and other versions of people they know is... cool. That’s just a cool sci-fi concept! But I think with anything, as you expand outward, it only works if the humanity remains. It’s exciting to watch characters dealing with big crazy multiversal conflicts because we can see ourselves in them. I think you just have to hold on to the humanity that makes these stories work in the first place.

Did you go back to the Thor movies for Loki? Was there anything to find in the past of Marvel as you were paving the future?

Absolutely. I mean I watched them many times, contrary to what Twitter might think because I did some bits on there saying that I’ve never seen Avengers and I upset some people [laughs]. I have seen it many times. “Confirmed: Loki writer has seen Avengers and saw it before writing Loki show.”

In fact, I was watching all these movies on a loop in the writers’ room. I gleaned so much because you watch the evolution of the character. Avengers was particularly informative because our story picks up Loki right after that, but I also I found a lot of inspiration in Thor: The Dark World, a maybe sometimes maligned movie that I actually really enjoy. I just think there’s great stuff with Loki being tangentially responsible for the death of his mother, how he reacts to that. That is the start of his journey of that version of Loki’s redemption, so I was inspired by that.

What’s propelling the characters into season 2? Where are you headed in basic terms?

In season 1, you saw a lot of characters reckoning with and questioning their own glorious purpose, and that glorious purpose changing, [characters] realizing that that can change. Everybody except for Sylvie. I think she holds onto hers, which is vengeance, and to the detriment of us all, perhaps. And we’ve got a Loki who, at the top of our show, assessed himself as a villain and, I would argue, at the end of our show, has become a little bit of a hero. There’s nothing more heroic to me than fighting for the right thing and losing. You see that washing over him as he’s there back at the TVA, after Sylvie has knocked back there. And then he gets up because that is what heroes do — they keep going. So I think that you’re gonna see a Loki that looks at himself in a different way certainly that at the top of this.

Do you hope to explore more of Sylvie’s backstory in season 2?

I guess we’ll see. We certainly have our own rich backstory for her, stuff that didn’t get to make it into the show. Elissa Karasik, our episode 2 writer, wrote a lot of amazing backstory for Sylvia and everything. So those ideas exist out there.

And her version of Thor?

Tune in.

How did He Who Remains come about? Did you bring the character to Marvel or was that a character Marvel hoped to introduce?

I was pushing and our team was pushing early on in the writers’ room that it should be a version of Kang up in that Citadel, sort of fusing the mythology of He Who Remains with a little bit of the Immortus mythology. And that was a thing we were excited to do. And it became clear that it actually made sense for our story. The only way we were going to do it was if it made sense, but it was like, who had a better argument for creating the TVA to prevent other versions of themselves from existing then a guy as evil as Kang the Conqueror?

You wrote the upcoming Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness — did Marvel hire you for that after Loki? Does the movie feel like a continuation of the show?

Yeah, that opportunity came as we were getting ready to start production on Loki. It was a pleasure. I got to work with Sam Raimi, a hero of mine. I was in London for five months making that movie at the top of this year. We had a blast. I think that it’s a continuation in as much as ever every Marvel movie is to some extent a chapter in an ongoing story, but these things are meant to stand alone and the most important thing about Doctor Strange too is making the most kick ass Doctor Strange movie we could.

Is Loki a two-part show now or are you invested in telling a longer story with future seasons beyond season 2?

Time will tell, but I do my hope is that season 1 stands on its own. We always wanted to tell a complete story there. And in whatever the next chapter may be will stand on its own as well.

Your next show, Heels, is already on the way. We got a big preview out of Comic-Con this year, but I’m curious about the scope of this story. You’re starting with two brothers running an independent wrestling franchise, but you’ve dropped the name “Vince McMahon” a few times — is this about the building of an empire? Would you liken it to The Godfather or Breaking Bad?

I always thought about it a little bit of a Scorsese-sort-of rise, and we’ll see if there’s a fall. Starting from humble beginnings and trying to build some crazy. Wrestling was certainly not always the empire that it is and that’s what’s interesting, to watch the evolution of a family-run wrestling business from something you do in your small towns and perhaps a national, even global empire. That would be a really compelling arc for a show over the course of several seasons. I’d be excited to explore that.

What’s the most dramatically fulfilling wrestling moment you’ve witnessed? What’s the bar for the wrestling drama of Heels?

It’s gotta be Hulk Hogan turning heel in the WCW. There was an invasion storyline, these guys from WWF, Kevin Nash and Scott Hall, came over and they were the bad guys. It was at a Pay-per-view and and they were beating up on the good guys that you love, and here comes Hulk Hogan in the yellow and red and he’s the hero. “The Hulk’s gonna get ‘em! The good guy’s here!” And then the Hulk just leg drops Randy Savage. That was the original Red Wedding. I just think about the boldness of turning him heel. To a little kid... I wasn’t even like a massive Hulk fan, but he was just such a mythological figure. What a chance that Hulk Hogan took as a performer, as a bankable kind of movie star at that point. That was bold, risky storytelling and it set off two years of amazing storytelling with Hogan just playing a craven, cowardly heel and just being so evil. I really respect the hell out of them for doing that. That was a great storyline.

#michael waldron #interview #loki #s1 #s2

[joyful-soul-collector]

❄️Week 1: December 9-15❄️

stars in the city ch. 10 by @parkrstark (Pt. 3 of constant as the stars above)

Summary: Peter and Steve are finally settling into their new life with Tony. Recovery isn't always a straight line, especially with a four-year-old, but they're trying their best. Their newfound fame has Steve juggling between his private life and the one plastered on the front page of every tabloid. He shouldn't have been surprised that the public didn't believe in his rags to riches love story. Tony usually makes it easier for him to handle it all. Until he starts to distance himself from Steve, as if now he's the one hiding something. And Steve is left wondering if he's about to lose Tony for good this time.

Relationships/Tropes: Stony, Irondad, Papa Steve, Homeless Peter Parker, Homeless Steve Rogers, No Powers AU, (Coffee Shop AU??? Sorta)

Review: This fic just always makes my heart ache in the best way. So much fluff, so much angst, it's a perfect balance that I'm just absolutely in love with!

❄️

Devils Roll The Dice ch. 9 by @ephemeralstark

Summary: “I miss you Mr. Stark,” Peter admitted as he stared up through the leaves overhead at the stars that twinkled promisingly at him, “I wish you were back here. I would give anything to fix things, I would give anything for you to be alive today.” What Peter didn't know, as he made that wish and closed his eyes, letting the tears fall shamefully, was that the Universe was always listening, and it was dangerous to make a wish and offer up anything. - Tony Stark wakes up in his bed one morning, not realising that months have passed since his death - that's going to be awkward to explain to the world. Peter Parker has been living on the streets, trying to hide his identity as the entire world wants Spider-Man dead, and dealing with the trauma that Beck left him. To make things worse - it's now his fault that yet another bad guy thinks they're entitled to owning Earth.

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Spideychelle, Pepperony, Happy Hogan/May Parker, Homeless Peter Parker, Post-FFH, Post-Identity Reveal, Tony Stark Comes Back To Life

Review: Oh man this fic is so sad and so sweet, I love it so much! I love how it combines Peter's trauma after Mysterio with his reaction to finding out that Tony is alive again, it's just so creative!

❄️

His Heart Bloomed Sunflowers (and he wore them on his skin) by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 24 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Peter honestly didn't know how no one had discovered his tattoos yet. He wasn't broadcasting them but he wasn't exactly being the most subtle either. Although he was partly grateful for it since he was dreading what would happen when May on Tony saw them. But he was pleasantly surprised at the reactions that he got when he was found out. Peter had expected anger, disappointment, maybe annoyance at the very least. What he got was far from that. (A sequel to Comfortember Day 4. Anxiety) Comfortember Day 29. Make/Build/Create Something Beautiful

Relationships/Tropes: Minor Spideychelle, Tattoos, Comfortember

Review: I love this fic so much! I loved the description of how the flowers wilted when the ones he'd drawn had faded, and how the ones he got tattooed never wilted again :']

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I’ll drive all night (to keep them warm) by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 23 of Comfortember 2020) 

Summary: For the next hour they tried to calm Morgan again but, just like the rest of the day with Tony and Pepper, nothing was working. No teething rings, gel, nothing. The little girl was just well and truly grumpy, tired, and sore.

Suddenly an idea came to Peter and he turned to Tony and Pepper. 

"Can I try something?"

They both nodded at him, prompting him to continue with his idea.

"Can I take her for a drive?" He asked. "I'm not sure if it'll work but Ben used to do it for me when I was younger and it always calmed me down."

Comfortember day 28. Car Ride

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter & Morgan, Pepperony, Baby Morgan, Car Rides, Comfortember

Review: This one was so cute! I love Peter being a good big brother to baby Morgan, and I relate to finding trips in the car relaxing and nice :D

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It’s What Brothers Do by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 22 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Morgan was somehow full of even more energy than usual that day and wanted to see if she could do the monkey bars that were attached to the jungle gym herself. Before Peter could stop her, she had already grabbed hold of the first one and let herself swing towards the next one.

But the little girl had misjudged just how heavy swinging your own body weight was and almost immediately started falling. Peter shot forward from his place on the ground, jumping and diving, just managing to catch her before they both hit the grass of the park grounds. Comfortember Day 27. Park

Relationships/Tropes: Minor Pepperony, Peter & Morgan, Irondad, Peter Protects Morgan, Comfortember

Review: Another cute Big Brother Peter fic! I love that Peter was really protecting Morgan in this one, he loves her enough to put himself in harm's way to protect her

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The Burger Debate by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 21 of Comfortember 2020) 

Summary: Tony and Peter shared a lot of similarities, there was no doubt about it. A lot of their mannerisms were the same, personality quirks (especially in the lab), occasional recklessness, selfless hero personas, etc etc. However, one thing they didn't share was their taste in burgers. Whenever the topic came up there was a friendly, yet heated, 'disagreement' as Tony called it. No matter what anyone ever told him, Tony thought that a cheeseburger was the holy grail of burgers. And Peter, well… he happened to think the same only for chicken burgers.

Comfortember Day 26. Junk Food

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter & Morgan, Pepperony, Infinity War Compliant, Not Endgame Compliant

Review: This was so sweet and so sad, especially the part where Tony couldn't eat burgers while Peter was snapped because it hurt him too much. It showed his grief really well

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Career Day Drabble by @jen27ny 

Summary: uncle happy and uncle rhodey come to peter’s career day

Relationships/Tropes: Happy & Peter, Rhodey & Peter, Happy & Rhodey, Minor Irondad, Career Day

Review:  I loved this story so much! I really appreciate seeing some nice Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy content!!

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Gifts by @wayward-fairchild (Pt. 5 of Holiday Collection 2020) 

Summary: Rhodey and Tony have been together to the point Rhodey sees the kids as his own. Maybe that is why the kids agree to help with Rhodey's biggest gift to Tony yet.

Relationships/Tropes: Rhodey & Tony, Irondad, Rhodey & Peter, Christmas, Kid Peter

Review: This was just absolutely adorable! I love some Irondads content and this was very sweet

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evermore by @lyssismagical

Summary: Just a Solid Vent Fic. I wanna do 30 days of Taylor Swift-inspired fics (folklore and evermore) lmao but idk yet we’ll see lemme know tho

Relationships/Tropes: Spideychelle, Irondad, Peter Overworks Himself

Review: I loved this one a lot! I definitely relate to Peter with tending to overwork myself during school and letting other things fall away, and then feeling quite exhausted after it's all over haha. I'm glad MJ and Tony were able to help him <3

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Two Hours Spent Cuddling by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 2 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: A giant snowstorm takes out the power in the tower. While waiting for the backup generator to come up, the Stark-Rhodes family finds a way to stay warm.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: I. Love this story. So much. I haven't seen very many stories that center around Rhodey being a father-figure to Peter, and this one definitely filled all my desires for such a story! It's so fluffy and sweet, and I loved every word :D

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Three Stark-Rhodes’ Decorating by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 3 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: Tony, Rhodey, and Peter Stark-Rhodes begin decorating for the holiday season.

Relationships/Tropes:  Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: This story was absolutely adorable! It was another featuring Papa Rhodey and Dad Tony with Little Peter, and it was so well done! I love that Tony's robots and JARVIS each get a stocking hung over the fire too, and the way Peter pronounce ornaments as "orminents" was so cute!!!

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Four Poorly Wrapped Presents by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 3 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: Peter has two presents each for his Daddy and his Papa. The only problem was, he had no idea how to wrap them. He figures the Avengers could help.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Avengers Family, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: This was so sweet! Clint, Nat, and Steve treat Peter with such sweetness, and it made my heart all fuzzy and warm <3

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If you look at any these stories, be sure to show the author your appreciation with a comment/kudos/reblog where applicable!

Click here for more fanfic rec lists!

#irondad #Ironhusbands #spideychelle #pepperony #stony #peter parker #tony stark #Steve Rogers #rhodey #james rhodes #pepper potts #clint barton #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #irondad fanfiction #ironhusbands fic #spideychelle fanfiction #pepperony fanfic #stony fanfiction #spider-man #Iron Man #captain america #war machine #hawkeye #black widow #marvel #Avengers #Marko's Monthly Fanfic Rec Lists #December Rec List

[dwellordream]

“Girls’ schools promoted an intense female peer culture which contrasted with the disciplines of moralistic home environments. Evidence from the accounts of girls attending the myriad female seminaries and girls’ boarding schools throughout the Northeast suggests that their academic programs were relatively gentle, and that their peer culture was powerful and often fun. Despite the best efforts of outnumbered teachers, relations with friends tended to overshadow lessons learned. Overwhelmingly when girls wrote home to their parents, they described the girls they had met, and the antics they had shared; in diaries they noted the romantic intimacies they had formed, with academic work generating only occasional mention.

Girls’ peer life at school was high-spirited, collective, and ritualized all at once. Teachers themselves often participated. At Miss Porter’s in Farmington, Connecticut, in 1860, teachers organized a costume party, suggested characters for everyone, and helped sew costumes—perhaps in part a sewing lesson. (For Lily Dana, suggestions included an elf, Mischief, or a witch.) At a Prospect Hill School party in 1882, townspeople came, the girls wore flowers and white dresses, and Margaret Tileston reported that she had done the quadrille with Miss Clarke and the gallop with Miss Tuxbury—concluding that she had had ‘‘a very nice time.’’

Girls remembering their days at convent schools report similar good times. Julia Sloane Spalding recalled elegiacally her years at Nazareth Academy, a school run by the Sisters of Charity in Louisville, Kentucky, in the 1850s. ‘‘The sisters allowed us to romp and play, dance and sing as we pleased and our stage performances were amusing, if they had no greater merit. Musical soirees, concerts, serenades and minstrelsy kept our spirits attuned to gladness. Varied by picnics, lawn parties, hayrides, phantom parties, nutting parties in summer and candy pullings and fancy balls with Nazareth’s colored band to fiddle.’’

Exclaimed Spalding, ‘‘O what fun!’’ in fond reflection on the good times among the sisters who served ‘‘good substantial sandwiches, cakes and fruit’’ from ‘‘great big baskets.’’ She concluded, ‘‘and so, the spice of life conduced to our health and happiness.’’ Mary Anne Murphy arrived at Nazareth Academy with her sister in 1859 during a quadrille, the slave musicians calling out the figures. She and her sister stood in ‘‘wonderment that such fun was tolerated in a convent.’’ Whatever the nostalgia of middle age, certainly these reflections suggest that elite Catholic and Protestant girls’ academies left some of their richest memories in collective fun.

If teachers sponsored some activities, they implicitly sanctioned many more. Wilfrida Hogan attended the Sisters of St. Joseph convent school in St. Paul in the 1870s and remembers fondly her class, which was known for its lively irreverence: ‘‘Each girl seemed to view the other as to who could play the biggest pranks, or have the most fun.’’

Ellen Emerson overflowed with delight in a letter to her mother (significantly, not her father) while at Miss Sedgwick’s School in Lenox, Massachusetts: ‘‘Every night we do things which it seems to me I can never remember without laughing if I should live to be a hundred. The most absurd concerts, ludicrous charades, peculiar battles etc. etc. Then the wildest frolics, the loudest shrieks, the most boisterous rolling and tumbling that eye ever saw, ear ever heard or heart ever imagined. I consider myself greatly privileged that every night I can see and join such delightful romps.’’

When teachers were around, the pranks were more likely to occur upstairs in student bedrooms. Lily Dana and friends joined together to victimize two other girls by putting crumbs in their bed, and cutting off candle wicks. Another evening Dana noted that she ‘‘Had some fun throwing pillows and nightgowns,’’ and though Miss Porter caught her, it did not seem to dampen much her spirits. Teachers at girls’ schools were occasion- ally disciplinarians, clearly.

One teacher told Lily Dana that ‘‘she supposed my mother let me do everything,’’ and the sisters at St. Mary’s Academy in South Bend, Indiana, turned the piano to the wall in order to keep girls from waltzing with each other. Yet students often emerged victorious; at St. Mary’s they played combs for dance music instead. (One participant reported that ‘‘the Sisters had to give up, for they knew not what to do.’’) The ideology of nurture combined with the shared exuberance of age mates overpowered much teacherly remonstrance.

It is sometimes hard to read such tales of schoolgirl exuberance without wondering whether the inmates had taken over the asylum, however, so a corrective is in order. One such account which requires a second look is the spirited account of Agnes Repplier, In Our Convent Days (1906), about her time in the late 1860s at a Pennsylvania school run by the Sisters of the Sacred Heart. Repplier writes of the pranks and passions of her band of seven partners in crime, in an ebulliant account designed to appeal to a readership newly attracted to childhood naughtiness in revolt against Victorian propriety. It is clear in retrospect, though, that she must have concealed or minimized an- other side to her experiences. For the denouement of her story is her expulsion and removal from a school she adored.

Peer cultures could also be cruel and hurtful beyond the control of evangelical teachers, as the practices of hazing in British public schools testify. Some of the most painful memories of inclusion and exclusion in girls’ schools centered around that most primal of media, the sharing of food. Food boxes, customarily sent from home, were the occasion for impromptu parties, a demonstration of wealth and taste, or an opportunity to play favorites.

The elation which greeted such arrivals might well prove a commentary on the regular fare at boarding schools, which sometimes undoubtedly was very poor. (The advice giver Mary Virginia Terhune’s critique of girls’ boarding schools included the accusation that they fed their students from a ‘‘common vat’’ which supplied breakfast, dinner, and supper all together, a practice partially confirmed by one account of eating the same stew at least twice a day at an Ursuline academy in San Antonio in the 1890s.)

At any rate, the arrival of food from home occasioned select gatherings and provided opportunities for discrimination among friends. When one friend’s mother brought good things to eat, Josie Tilton noted that ‘‘we’’ had a feast tonight, explaining for the future who she would always mean when she said ‘‘we’’—‘‘Lizzie, Emma, May and I’’— the groupness secured by inclusion in this select group of diners.

Lily Dana suspected a friend of being miserly and so snuck into her room to inspect. ‘‘There was a box which had been filled with cake, part of a pie and several other things filling her trunk nearly half full. . . . If I had a box sent to me I think I should give my friend more than ‘five or six cookies.’’’ If girls could feel short-changed by each other, relations with parents could also strain over the sending of food boxes, which represented extremely conspicuous con- sumption for girls attempting to ‘‘belong.’’

In an unusually direct letter home in the 1840s, Maria Nellis passed on to her parents her unmediated hurt and sense of disadvantage in the competition for food—and the status that came with it. Elizabeth got her box yesterday and was favoured with six times more things than I was. Her box was so large and heavy the master found it his match to carry it upstairs. She has 4 kinds of cake, nuts, apples, candy, clothing and every thing else, but after all, Dear Poppy, I am not jealous. . . . When you sent that box you did not send half what I asked. I was very disappointed. You said it would be eatables, but it wasn’t. You sent only a few apples, one cake and some clothes. Why didn’t you send me some nuts? I haven’t had a nut yet this winter, and indeed I expected nuts above all things. E. Fox had a box worth speaking of. Now that shows that you don’t care enough for me to even send me a few nuts.

Intermittently, Nellis regained control, but her grievance was palpable. Finally at the end, she acknowledged to her parents that she might be hurting their feelings, reassured them that she loved them all with ‘‘a deep and fervent love,’’ and promised better behavior in the future. Clearly at stake for her was both status in the school world and a primitive sense of deprivation in her own family.

As the correspondence suggests, the emotional atmosphere in girls’ boarding schools was not only intense but more expressive and enacted than that within moralistic, Victorian households. Within private, female, boarding academies, duty-bound Victorian daughters learned languages of sentiment, desire, and emotional excess censored from other parts of their lives. The elaborate conventions accompanying the expression and affirmation of affection among boarding-school girls, sometimes involving teachers as well, was indeed a separate ‘‘female world of love and ritual,’’ as Carroll Smith-Rosenberg affirmed in a classic article about nineteenth-century women’s culture.

In recent years, Smith-Rosenberg’s ‘‘Female World of Love and Ritual’’ has been attacked for its overgeneralizing characterization of an exclusively female emotional sphere in the nineteenth century, but her strongest evidence confirms the significance, the power, and the longevity of girls’ boarding school friendships, which were enacted through elaborate rituals in a range of schools.

The rituals of boarding school life centered around the making and breaking of special friendships, known variously as ‘‘affinities,’’ ‘‘specials,’’ or ‘‘darlings’’ and increasingly as either ‘‘smashes’’ or ‘‘crushes.’’ One way of expressing interest was to ‘‘filipine’’ with someone, to leave her a surprise gift outside her door. (When Lily Dana was caught, she needed to give her gift, a large apple, outright.) Such relationships played out in diaries, letters, and the poetry of autograph books. Girls expected to pair up for many school activities and entertained a variety of ‘‘dates’’ with different girls for walking, going to church, and sleeping.

Sally Dana wrote home to her mother explaining that she was following her father’s advice not to form special friendships too soon, and so had ‘‘slept in eight different beds.’’ During these private moments, girls would share secrets about their own likes and dislikes, each other, their teachers, families, and their school lives. The intricacy of such social calendars opened ample opportunities for misunderstanding and frayed feelings.

These peer relationships characterized elite female seminaries in the North- east, but they also appeared in a range of schools, including the African American Scotia Seminary, founded by the American Missionary Association in Concord, North Carolina, following the Civil War. Scotia had northern roots, which may have influenced its student culture. Glenda Gilmore tells us it was modeled on Mount Holyoke, and was ‘‘calculated to give students the knowledge, social consciousness, and sensibilities of New England ladies, with a strong dose of Boston egalitarianism sprinkled in.’’

Roberta Fitzgerald went to Scotia in the early twentieth century and kept a composition book, likely in 1902, which was filled with the talismans of schoolgirl crushes. A note inside addressed to ‘‘Dear Roberta’’ asked, ‘‘Will you please exchang rings with me today and you may ware mine again,’’ and Roberta herself wrote a sad poem to a friend ‘‘Lu’’ who had thrown her over.

And so you see as I am deemed

Most silently to wait

I cannot but be womanlike

And meekly await my fate.

Ah! sweet it is to love a girl

But truly oh! how bitter

To love a girl with all your heart

And then to hear ‘‘Cant get her.’’

And Lulu dear as I must here

Relinquish with a moan

May your joys be as deep as the ocean

And your sorrow as light as its foam.

On the back of the notebook, which also contained class assignments, was a confidence exchanged with a seatmate. ‘‘I was teasing Bess Hoover about you and she told me she loved you dearly.’’

For those much in demand, this charged atmosphere of flirtation and intimacy in the North and South represented an exhilarating round of fun and sport. For those less secure, diaries and letters presented an obvious outlet for the anguish of the neglected. Agnes Hamilton, a member of a Fort Wayne clan which sent several daughters to boarding school on their way to prominent careers in progressive America, experienced some of both. Sometimes she basked in the glow of family reputation; often she worried over her own inability to keep up with her illustrious cousins. Her unusually detailed accounts document an entire school culture rather than just an individual emotional life.

Hamilton’s first impressions of school social life at Miss Porter’s School were favorable, but even these revealed insecurities to come. In an entry from November 1886, when she was seventeen, Hamilton noted that ‘‘Farmington is just as perfect as they all said it would be, the girls, Miss Porter, and all.’’ Her reservation had to do with her own imperfections: ‘‘But I don’t think I am the right sort of a Farmington girl.’’ Even so, Agnes was in demand, describing a flurry of close attentions from numerous girls. A week later, in her cousin’s absence, she received displaced attentions:

Yesterday Mannie was very nice to me. I suppose she thinks I am lonely without Alice. We walked past the fill around by the river to the graveyard. Then she came in and we talked for an hour. All evening we were together. This afternoon we walked together too for Tuesday is her day with Alice. We went down to the green house where Mannie gave me some lovely roses. I would give anything to know what she thinks of me. . . . Will I ever be able to talk and be jolly as other girls? Some girls are frightfully stupid and yet they can make themselves somewhat agreeable. I have struck up a sudden friendship with Lena Farnam. We were together Saturday afternoon and evening and Sunday I asked her to be my church girl in Alice’s place.

Agnes was still in a position to be picky, noting one drawback: Lena ‘‘seems very nice indeed but I wish she were not only fifteen.’’ Lena was far from the only prospect. Agnes noted another new friend: ‘‘I have seen a great deal lately of Edith Trowbridge too. When she overcomes her shyness she will be exceedingly nice.’’ Not surprisingly, with all the intensity of the socializing, Agnes mentioned with no comment that only three out of thirteen in the class were prepared for their lessons that Tuesday. In those early weeks, Agnes Hamilton’s enthusiasm for this exciting life of emotional intrigue was palpable. The next week (she seems to have written on Tuesdays), Agnes announced to her diary ‘‘the jolliest crush in school’’ involving one of her very own intimates of the week before.

‘‘I walked with Edith Trowbridge this afternoon, on purpose to have her tell me about Lena. I hinted and hinted in vain. I told her about every other crush in school but she never said a word about Lena’s, so at last I told her that I knew all about it but even then she would not say a word about the subject. I hope she will tell Lena so that she will speak to me about it next Saturday when we are driving.’’ The triangulation of such relationships increased the possibilities for intrigue. Agnes wearied a bit of the uncooperative Edith, though, observing that though ‘‘very nice . . . she did not get over her stiffness.’’

Agnes Hamilton seemed to be trying to do her schoolwork, but her roller- coaster social life intervened. One day when she was preparing for class, a friend came by to teach her a dance step, from which she was interrupted by the arrival of a buggy she had rented to take another friend for a ride, the same girl whose ‘‘jolly’’ crush had amused her the week before. (‘‘The more I see of her the better I like,’’ she now reported. ‘‘Her face is rather attractive at first and then it grows on one.’’) When she returned, she found another visitor who stayed till it was time for tea.

The result: ‘‘I have not looked at my Mental since Thursday.’’ By the end of the same day, yet a new ‘‘crush’’ had taken over when Agnes got word of someone’s interest in her, and Agnes wondered ‘‘if I have ever been as actively happy.’’ The frenzy had settled down a week later, when Agnes announced that she had all her walking days ‘‘just as I want them.’’ Each day of the week was assigned a different companion, with whom Agnes would exchange intimacies and gossip, using the rituals of girls’ school life to structure its emotional extravagance.

One must conclude that the intensity of the social life was seen to serve some purpose, for evidence suggests that it was allowed to flourish until the turn of the century. (Lily Dana noted that Miss Porter’s permission had been sought for at least one and probably more sleeping dates.) At that time, new sexualized interpretations of girls’ and women’s friendships brought a crackdown on such friendships. At the time, though, they appear to have received official sanction. In fact, one of the first of Ladies’ Home Journal ’s ‘‘Side Talks with Girls’’ took up the question of ‘‘School Girl Friendships.’’ The Journal endorsed such girlish relationships for their innocence and energy and their precious brevity, saluting ‘‘the giddy, gushing period’’ as one which ‘‘never comes to some and to most it soon passes.’’

In particular, it contrasted this girlish spontaneity with the superficiality of the jaded young lady. Its contrast of ‘‘young girls, lively, radiant, energetic, spirited, loving girls’’ with ‘‘young ladies who talk of their beaux, dresses and the surface shows of society’’ represented another version of a conventional warning against precociousness. Girls’ crushes on other girls were still perceived as innocent and healthy—and would be well after doctors first began to cast suspicion over such relationships in the 1880s and 1890s.”

- Jane H. Hunter, “Competitive Practices: Sentiment and Scholarship in Secondary Schools.” in How Young Ladies Became Girls: The Victorian Origins of American Girlhood

#victorian #history #education #sexuality #american #jane h. hunter #how young ladies became girls

[hale-13]

Slipping Through the Cracks

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 5 - Broken

Just when his life was finally leveling out Parker luck struck again. Peter has had four opportunities with parents and has lost all of them. The way he sees it, this is the least of what he deserves.

Post-Homecoming - Tony didn’t meet with Peter immediately to offer him a place on the Avengers.

Words: 3856, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen-Teen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan, Ned Leeds

TW: Depression, Dissociation, a single line of Suicidal Ideation, Referenced Child Abuse

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

Peter was silent as he exited Midtown with Ned keeping a quiet pace with him. Seven months ago they would be just as excited as their classmates for the weekend, for the plans that they surely would have made to build Legos or marathon movies or even to just study together. Ned would have been ecstatic to set up in Peter’s bedroom as his ‘guy in the chair’ while Peter did a quick patrol or two. If they were at Peter’s instead of Ned’s, May would attempt some new dish that would, inevitably, be awful and they would order pizza from their favorite place for dinner.

Now Peter never saw any of his limited friend group outside of school. He didn’t build Legos or watch movies or eat take-out pizza and he certainly wasn’t Spider-Man anymore – he had given that up after the Homecoming disaster when he had destroyed Mr. Stark’s plane.

It had been just over six months since he had found May dead in their kitchen and Peter didn’t really do anything at all anymore.

The ER doctors told Peter that she had an undiagnosed aneurysm that had finally burst – there was no way for anyone to know. She went quickly. She felt no pain. There was nothing that Peter could have done even if he was there when it happened.

The reassurances meant nothing really – Peter was numb. May was his last living family member, he had no one else and nowhere to turn. He can vaguely remember telling the social worker that was with him when they told him the news about May that he was alone now. He can remember being taken forcibly from the hospital before he was ready to go, wanting to kick and scream and drag his heels but too shocked to do so. And then everything was a blur.

Somewhere in his mind he knew that he had been allowed to pack up everything important from their apartment to go into storage until he was eighteen besides the bag of essentials he had for himself. He knew that everything else was donated or sold to pay off their remaining debt and the medical bills he had incurred by calling for help when he found May on the kitchen floor. He knew that the social worker told him that, even after selling everything, they couldn’t afford a funeral. He has a business card in his wallet with the number of the crematorium that was holding May’s ashes until he was old enough to retrieve them and, hopefully, give her a proper burial in their family plot next to Ben.

He spent the two weeks after in a group home, mute and dissociating with seven other boys in similar situations. He didn’t go to school, but he remembers the constant stream of unanswered texts and calls from Ned and MJ before his phone plan was discontinued then his phone became a dead relic in his bag. There were a lot of discussions about school that Peter didn’t take part in but, thanks to his full scholarship, he was able to continue at Midtown at least until the end of the year.

And then he was placed with his foster parents.

The Fishers seemed to be pleasant people when Peter first met them; they didn’t force him to speak, they had extensive fostering experience with teenagers and were willing to pay for his subway pass so he could get to and from his school even though there was a decent public school in walking distance. It didn’t take long, however, for their true colors to show.

Now, though, Peter knew the rules. He was always home by his curfew of four on school days and he never went out on the weekends. His grades were perfect. He kept his undecorated room spotless. He cooked supper every evening and breakfast and dinner on the weekends. He kept the house presentable. He stayed out of the Fishers way. Mostly he drifted. His days slid together to the point he had difficultly remembering entire weeks passing him by but it was fine.

He was fine.

“I’ll see you Monday,” Ned muttered as he split off to get in his mom’s car, not acknowledging the pathetic little wave Peter offered in return. A coiling feeling settled in his gut and Perter felt guilt rise up to swirl in his throat. Ned was his best friend and he was treating him like shit. With Peter basically unresponsive, bullies had taken to picking on Ned instead… well except for Flash. Flash had been the only one to back off and stand up for both of them – it helped but didn’t fix everything.

“Better if he leaves you now,” a little voice in his head whispered. “It’s better to be alone.” And maybe at one point he would have fought against that mindset but now he couldn’t help but agree. Peter destroyed everything he touched and everyone around him was doomed for misery. Better for Ned to get out while he could.

Lethargically, Peter began across the empty football field toward the subway entrance – his trip home was always a little tight and he couldn’t afford to miss this train.

“Peter!” A harried voice shouted as his shoulder was grabbed and he was roughly turned around to face a red-faced and irritated Happy Hogan. Peter’s mind blanked for a moment in total shock at seeing the man again after so long. “Didn’t you hear me calling for you?”

“Sorry Mr. Hogan,” Peter mumbled, not making eye contact. He felt the phantom sting from the slap he had gotten for that when he first moved into foster care burning his bare cheek.

“The Boss has been calling you, he wants to chat. You screening our calls now?” Happy asked, accusatory as his eyes raked down Peter’s form. Peter felt a shiver crawl up his spine and kept his sight locked on Happy’s chin, trying to remain as relaxed as possible. It was important to not draw any unwanted attention to himself.

“No sir,” he answered, voice a little rough and quiet with disuse. “I don’t have a phone anymore.” Happy huffed and narrowed his eyes at Peter before steering him to the expensive Audi parked in front of the school.

“No matter, he wants to talk to you in person anyway. Hop in and I’ll take you to the Tower.” Peter gulped and fought the urge to dig his heels in – it wouldn’t be polite.

“I have a curfew of four,” he protested weakly as Happy pulled open the door for him and motioned for him to climb in. Peter hesitated but relented when Happy gave him a little shrug.

“I’m sure May will understand and Tony can always give her a call to clear anything up.” And with that Peter was gone. No one had said her name since she died and the thought… the very implication that he could still be living with his aunt, happy and carefree, was insane. His mind floated away and he felt like he was watching himself as a specter. He saw his body relax but his eyes were distant, cloudy. Happy, for the first time that Peter could remember, didn’t raise the partition between the front and rear seats and, instead, watched Peter in the rear view mirror.

The drive to the Tower took over thirty minutes with traffic and Peter would be panicking about how late he was going to be if he had any capacity to feel at all. Instead, he let his mind wander as the skyscrapers of Manhattan blurred into a grey mosaic outside the window, fat raindrops sporadically hitting the window as a drizzle started. “We’re here,” Happy told him as he parked the car in the underground garage that was reserved for Mr. Stark and other high level staff of the Tower. Peter popped his door open and followed the man to the private elevator that he assumed would take them to Mr. Stark’s office.

“Hello Happy. Hello Peter,” the disembodied voice of Mr. Stark’s AI, FRIDAY, said as the doors closed and the elevator began to move. “Boss is awaiting your arrival in his workshop.”

“Thanks FRIDAY,” Happy said, texting intently on his phone. Peter just remained silent as the elevator began to slow before stopping completely, the doors trundling open soundlessly. Happy nudged Peter out but remained inside the car as the doors closed, leaving Peter alone in the sleek room.

Tony was seated in front of a large hologram of his armor, code scrolling past on his monitor as he made adjustments. “Mr. Parker,” he said as Peter edged closer to him, not looking up from his work. “You’re a hard man to get in contact with.”

Though Tony sounded more forthright than angry, Peter still had to fight the cringe in his shoulders as he came to a stop about ten feet away from the work bench – out of reach and with enough time to prepare if the man were to make any sudden moves. “Sorry,” he murmured, keeping his eyes low and doing his best to keep his shoulders from curling in – the last thing he needed to do was show any weakness.

“No need for apologies,” Tony said, light, as he fiddled with a holo mechanism in the right repulser. “Just a statement of fact. According to the news Spider-Man has also been just as difficult to find.”

Peter just hummed in response, choosing not to comment on his previous alter-ego. He didn’t much feel like a hero these days.

“A man of few words,” Tony commented, shutting down the programs in front of him and turning to face Peter fully. “Are you the same kid who was talking my ear off in Germany a year ago?”

“Yes sir,” Peter said, keeping his eyes focused on Tony’s chin. He could feel his mind slipping as his heart rate sped up and he struggled to keep present – it was getting harder and harder to stay in the moment the more he allowed himself to get lost in his head. He occasionally dreamed that one day it might be permanent; one of the few good dreams he had.

“Sir?” Tony parroted, his eyebrows raising and a flash of guilt washing over his features quickly before disappearing. “Look kid, I think I owe you an apology. Actually, I know I owe you an apology. I didn’t communicate with you about the whole alien weapons take-down thing. I underestimated you and treated you like a side-kick and ignored you and then I left you alone and without any protection and you saved my bacon anyway.”

“I deserved it,” Peter said matter-of-factly. “I was in over my head and I disobeyed. The punishment fit the crime.”

“No it didn’t,” Tony told him bluntly but firmly, looking surprised but resolute. “Maybe we both share some fault in the situation but I’m the adult and the one with experience and I didn’t do anything to teach you or help you and for that I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Peter assured him, allowing himself to tap his index finger against his thigh once to let out his stress. Mr. Fisher didn’t like his constant fidgeting and Peter knew that it was pretty annoying so he had done his best to learn how to stand as still as possible to not incur any extra punishments – the index finger tap he was able to normally get away with.

Mr. Stark’s eyes were narrowed as he surveyed Peter. “I wanted to offer you a real spot as my intern. You could spend a few days a week in the shop working on tech and I made you a new and improved suit for the other part of your ‘internship’. I promise that you’ll always have the support you need to be New York’s Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. You’re the future of the Avengers, kid, its pretty clear to me now. Your spot on the team is there whenever you want to take it.”

For the briefest of moments, Peter was overwhelmed with excitement and incredulity. Ever since Tony had announced he was Iron Man to the world, Peter had wanted nothing more than to be a superhero as well, to be an Avenger. If Tony had offered him a spot on the team after Germany, Peter would have taken it in an instant. Now…

“Thank you Mr. Stark,” Peter said, voice still a little broken and hoarse from how little he spoke these days. “But I can’t.”

“Oh you don’t have to join now,” the man assured, misunderstanding. “You’ll need some training first but Rhodey and Vision are always down to join us at the compound for some group work. You have a lot of potential.”

“Thanks but that’s not what I meant,” Peter clarified. “I have to decline all of it but I appreciate the offer.”

“Oh,” Tony looked a little crestfallen, a dark expression of acceptance on his defined features. “I understand. Broken trust and all that. Sure.”

“It’s not that,” Peter reassured quickly. “I don’t hold anything against you – I was the one who messed up. It’s just I have a four o’clock curfew every day so I can’t do the internship.”

“That’s easily remedied!” Mr. Stark said, his eyes lifting with a smile and looking relieved. “I’ll just give Aunt Hottie a call and work things out and we’ll have you in the lab and out swinging through the streets in no time!”

Peter’s ears fuzzed out again, a sharp high-pitched note cutting off Tony’s excited words as a feeling of immense emotion flooded through Peter before he could tamp it down. His breathing felt a little ragged in his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment to gather himself. “My aunt is dead,” Peter gritted out, interrupting Tony and rendering him speechless. “She died six months ago. My foster… the people fostering me are a little more strict.”

“Oh,” Tony said, face blank and an awkward silence filling the space. Peter gripped his worn down backpack straps and backed toward the elevator.

“Thanks for the offer,” Peter said earnestly. “It really is an honor I just…” he trailed off. “Thanks. For everything.”

And with that, he entered the elevator and pushed the button for the lobby, the doors shutting on Tony’s pitying expression before the man could say anything much to Peter’s relief. The metro card the Fishers had gotten him only had a set amount of money on it every month so Peter would be hoofing it back to their house from the Tower. His cracked watch face told him that it was already close to four-thirty and his stomach bubbled with anxiety. At this rate he wouldn’t be back in time to have dinner on the table at five-thirty.

Resigned to his punishments, Peter left the building through the shining lobby and pointed himself toward Queens, moving as fast as he could.

——————-

“You’re late,” Mr. Fishers’s tone was short and monotonous from where he was seated on the couch. The house was otherwise quiet which meant Mrs. Fisher was out that evening.

“I’m sorry sir,” Peter whispered looking at the floor and making no excuses. He had learned the hard way that trying to justify his poor behavior only made things worse for him in the long run.

“Go to your room,” Mr. Fisher told him making Peter cringe. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

Later, when Peter was lying on the bed with silent tears still leaking from his eyes and his back and ribs stinging in pain, he thought about Mr. Stark’s offer with selfish desire. In another universe, in another life, he would have been elated but now he only felt desolation - life always did like to dangle things in front of him he couldn’t have.

Setting his alarm for five-thirty so he wouldn’t oversleep, Peter let his consciousness slip away into the ether, mind going blissfully empty and blank.

——————-

Monday came both faster and slower than Peter wanted. His body still ached from his well-deserved punishment and he was exhausted from the extra chores and minimal food he had been offered as a result of his actions. School passed in a lonely blur for him as he drifted from class to class, hiding away in the deserted music room during lunch to avoid Ned and MJ. They didn’t ask as many questions anymore but Peter didn’t want to put himself in a situation where he would have to lie to his friends again.

When the final bell of the day rang, Peter chose to not stop by his locker where he may be ambushed and, instead, left the school, headed directly for the subway. He had nearly made it when a body physically blocked him from the stairs.

“Howdy Pete,” Mr. Stark said, peering over his glasses to look at Peter and Peter did his best to school his expression into indifference. He couldn’t be late again. He couldn’t take another punishment, he was just so tired all he wanted to do was sleep. Maybe forever. “Where are you headed?”

“Back to my fosters,” Peter told him, trying to skirt around. “I have a four o’clock curfew.”

“I remember you saying something about that,” Mr. Stark agreed with a nod. “Tell you what – let me give you a ride home. You’ll get home well before your curfew and I can talk to your foster parents about the internship. Who can say no to Tony Stark right?”

“NO!” Peter said loudly before smacking a palm over his mouth. He could feel the blood draining from his face as his body tensed, preparing for the correction he knew was coming. Mr. Stark’s brow was furrowed now and his eyes behind his blue glasses had a twinkle of understanding in them.

“Peter,” he began, reaching a hand out with the intention of lying his hand on Peter’s shoulder but he never got that far. Seeing the hand coming towards him and already being on high alert after his exclamation, Peter violently flinched away, only barely able to catch himself from falling over due to his enhanced reflexes, and squeezed his eyes shut tight. “Oh Peter,” Tony said, a desolate understanding in his voice.

Peter cracked his eyes open to see Mr. Stark with both hands raised in the universal ‘backing off’ signal, a soft look on his face. “Sorry sir,” Peter croaked out. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s fine.”

“Do you have something you need to tell me kiddo?” Tony’s voice was soft and gentle and Peter felt his eyes well up with tears he hastily blinked away as he shook his head quickly. “It’s okay buddy. You can tell me.”

“I’m fine. I’m okay. It’s fine.” Tony looked even more crestfallen at Peter’s answer and tapped the side of his glasses to activate FRIDAY.

“Can you I’ve me a scan FRI?” He asked and Peter flinched again knowing there was no way to hide the broken and healing bones and skin that he had been doing his best to conceal. Tony’s face was tight as he stared at Peter and Peter felt all of the blood left in his face drain away.

“I deserved it,” Peter told him desperately. “I disobeyed, it was my fault.” Mr. Stark just looked even more beaten at his words and Peter felt his breathing picking up.

“It’s not,” Tony said, voice still unbelievably soft but firm. “It’s not your fault and you didn’t deserve it. You’re a great kid Pete.” Peter shook his head no and couldn’t stop a couple tears from leaking out before furiously wiping them away. “I promise that it wasn’t your fault Underoos. Will you let me help you?”

“You can’t,” Peter said, feeling hollow. “Everyone… everyone close to me dies. I’m cursed and I can’t do that to you too Mr. Stark.”

“Can I hug you?” Tony asked suddenly, arms twitching with need. After a seconds hesitation, Peter nodded and was hastily folded into the man’s arms; one arm tight around his shoulders and the other snaking up into his hair to pull through the too long strands carefully. Peter felt more tears leak out and, suddenly, he couldn’t hold it in any longer, throwing his own arms around Tony to return the hug and letting out a gut-wrenching sob into the man’s shoulder. Tony just shushed him and let him take as much comfort as he could. “You’re not cursed and none of this is your fault. I get the feeling no one has told you that yet and you need to hear it.”

Peter sobbed loudly again, curling in tighter. He had always thrived on positive affirmation and had grown up in a family where hugs and shoulder pats and forehead kisses were the norm. To go so long without… he had forgotten how nice it was to just be held and cared for. “Thank you,” Peter said, his voice clogged with emotion. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Tony said firmly. “Anyone decent would do the same thing and it’s the least of what you deserve.”

Peter squeezed him one more time and took a deep breath before pulling away. “Thank you,” he reiterated, fighting to make eye contact so he could show just how sincere he was. “But I need to get back before four and I already missed my train. I can’t be late.” Tony, who still had one hand resting on Peter’s shoulder, gripped him tightly to prevent him from escaping up the stairs to the train.

“You aren’t going back,” he said firmly, ducking his head and forcing Peter to make eye contact. “You’re coming with me back to the Tower where I’m going to call CPS and my lawyers. You’re never going back there again.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Peter insisted. “It’s really not that bad if I’m home on time and do my chores and stay in my room. And its only two more years until I’m eighteen and then I can get a job and an apartment.”

“Pete,” Tony said, eyes shining as he wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders and started leading him away from the subway and toward the Audi that was parked in the pickup lane; Peter could see the outline of Happy’s silhouette in the driver’s seat. “You deserve better. You deserve somewhere safe and you deserve to have someone care about you. I know you don’t believe it now and that’s okay – I’m just going to keep telling you until you do.”

Peter sniffed back another onslaught of tears and allowed himself to be pulled away. “Thank you Mr. Stark,” he said, voice clogged with emotion.

“It’s Tony kiddo,” the man told him with another squeeze that warmed Peter to the core. “And you don’t need to thank me for this okay?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, fully aware and present and wanting to be for the first time in a long time. Things were never going to be the same, but maybe, just maybe, they would get better.

#summer of whump 2021 #Prompt: Broken #spider man #irondad #summerofwhump #summerofwhump5

[ao3feed-supercorp]

Stronger Together

by iamgoku

Tony had a lot on his plate after Ultron, dealing with the aftermath while simultaneously stepping back from the team.

Part of him was uncertain about what the future would bring, but he certainly didn't expect a blonde woman in a cape to literally fall out of the sky and into his life.

Now in a world very different, yet similar in some ways to her own, Kara Danvers was supposed to lay low and wait for her friends or Tony to help her get back.

But she can't just stand aside while people are in danger, and is going to show this new world exactly the type of Hero she is

~~

Civil War Team Iron Man! Please read the Tags, comments are moderated to avoid trolls.

Starts Post AOU and will continue beyond CW. More tags and characters may be added in future.

(please bare with the placeholder description).

Words: 2316, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supergirl (TV 2015), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M

Characters: Tony Stark, Kara Danvers, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Friday (Marvel), Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Vision (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers, J'onn J'onzz | Hank Henshaw

Relationships: Kara Danvers & Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Kara Danvers & Peter Parker, Matt Murdock & Tony Stark, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker, Alex Danvers & Kara Danvers

Additional Tags: Civil War Team Iron Man, Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Stark Has A Heart, post Supergirl Season 3, Protective Kara Danvers, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, not wanda maximoff friendly, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Tony Stark Needs a Hug, more tags will be added, Other Supergirl Characters won't be appearing for awhile, Tony Stark Feels, Dimension Travel, Secret Identity, Background Relationships, Tony Stark & Kara Danvers Friendship, Family Feels

from AO3 works tagged 'Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor' https://ift.tt/3Gx79jX via IFTTT https://ift.tt/3Gx79jX

#supercorp #Kara x Lena #Kara Danvers x Lena Luthor #karlena

[storiesofsvu]

Hidden Desires Ch 17

Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of blood, major (canon) character death, the usual SVU case talk.

You were pleasantly surprised with how easily the next few months passed, everything seemed to be falling into place, your personal friendship with Casey continuing to grow as well as your professional one. Sonya, Casey and you were all working better together with every single day, you easily exchanged information and facts over cases, and when need be, weren’t afraid to take on the detectives together when they tried to team up on a single one of you. (Not that Sonya needed any help in that department). There were countless hours spent working in each other’s offices, multiple lunches out in the city as you took a break from Hogan Place, and a few after work drinks while you wound down from the day.

You knew that things had hit a new level of peace, of closure, when you were getting ready one morning pulling your curled hair half back to pin up when your eyes settled on the gem sitting against your collarbone. Your head tilted while your lips pursed, your hands swiftly pinning back the required locks before one moved to the necklace, twirling it between your fingers. It had nearly been a security blanket since the day Alex looped it around your neck, but today…it finally felt like you didn’t need it anymore. Your hands moved behind your head, un-clasping it, moving the gem into your palm. You paused for a moment, looking down at it, unsure if you wanted to completely let go of it yet. Your brain got the best of you, convincing you that you didn’t need it on you, but didn’t quite want to leave it behind, tucking it into the change part of your wallet before you left the house. At least this way it was still somewhat within your vicinity for the day.

Before you’d even managed to make it to Hogan Place that morning you’d been called down to the 16th precinct, at least you didn’t have any current cases going. You spent the first half of your day there, working through the evidence the squad had, listening in on interviews and the like until the perp’s lawyer showed up. After refusing a deal, you made your leave, finally able to head to your office, you started a fresh pot of coffee instantly, knowing you’d need it, you had a full day of research and planning in front of you. The case presented to you at least had some similarities to one that you recalled from a law journal you remembered reading your first couple of years with the D.A’s office. You pushed back from your desk, searching through the shelves of your office until you found where it should’ve been.

“For fucks sake..” you muttered, your hand plucking the post it note from the shelf. Of course the one thing you needed wasn’t actually in your office. You made a silent prayer that it wasn’t back at your apartment, although when you’d grabbed the journal for Casey, it had been the only one on the shelf. Sighing, you stepped back into your heels, over the last couple of months Casey had been moved into Alex’s old office. She had obviously been very against the idea, worried about what you would think, but you knew things had to move on, and you’d rather have someone you knew, and now, liked, take it rather than some stranger.

You gave a quick knock on her door as you tore into her office,

“Hey, I’m pretty sure there’s a journal stashed in here that I- oh fuck! Sorry!” You reeled around as you realized Casey was in the extended part of her office, bare in a bra and leggings. To be completely honest, your eyes dragged up her frame before you turned, gulping over how fucking gorgeous she was. You obviously already knew she was attractive, but suddenly seeing her half naked sparked a previously unrealized desire within you. Her quiet laugh broke you out of your thoughts,

“It’s fine.” She tugged her tank top on, “What’d’you need?”

“I need a law journal that I think is stashed in here. You mind if I take a look around?”

“Course not.” Casey replied as she moved to pull on a sweater, you noticed the melancholy seeping from her eyes.

“You okay?” Your voice was suddenly a million times softer as you stepped towards her, the embarrassment of walking in on her changing suddenly vanishing.

“Yeah.” She brushed it off, avoiding your eye.

“Case….” You warned, “don’t lie to me.”

“My witness disappeared.”

“The cousin? In that Montreal case?”

“Yeah…” she sighed heavily, “we thought we had him in a secure location but it’s looking like someone leaked it…” Casey took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions, she’d already let too many out today, “I’m worried the other boys got to him…I said everything would be okay…” You were absolutely shocked when her eyes glanced up to yours and were brimming with tears.

“Casey… you can’t blame yourself okay? Those boys are garbage, whatever ends up happening, they’re going to slip up, you’ll catch them, I know you will.”

“I know…I just…wish I could’ve protected Jason.”

“I know.” You tugged her into a hug, surprising yourself with the level of intimacy you were showing, but honestly, you’d been there before, and you needed Casey to know she wasn’t to blame. Shit was going to hit the fan no matter what. “It’s not your fault.” You murmured against her shoulder, squeezing her tightly before you pulled away.

“Thanks.” She gave a watery smile and a shaky sigh.

“You burning it off at the gym?” You asked, taking in her attire.

“Batting cages.” She replied, “figured it’s the closest I can get to beating something without actually beating it.” You laughed,

“Makes sense.” You gave her a warm smile, squeezing her hand, “you let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Course.” She smiled softly, “thank you…you’ve been a real help getting used to this, I hope you know that.” You nearly blushed, giving her a soft smile, “what were you looking for?”

“Oh…uh…a 2002 journal? It wasn’t in my office and I haven’t seen it at the apartment.”

“Oh, yeah, make yourself at home.” The redhead nodded toward her office as she grabbed her bag, “I’ll see you later.” Despite being in a not great place emotionally she still managed to shoot you a glittering smile as she left the office.

You let out a huff of a breath, trying to calm yourself down, turning to the shelves of books. You had to get it together. There were too many pretty lawyers in this city, you couldn’t possibly fall for all of them.

*

It was a few weeks later, Casey was stuck in court, Buchanan being a complete dick over literally everything, leaving you and Sonya out on lunch just the two of you. Not that it was an issue, you obviously loved Sonya, and your time together was as hilarious as it was cherished. And you knew she needed some support, she’d finally caught up on a case she had been chasing for twenty five years, the vic’s sister now running one of those ‘to catch a predator’ type shows. There had been a fair amount of controversy over the case and they were slowly closing in on tracking down the actual perp.

The first half of lunch Sonya shot idea after idea at you, it was honestly weird to see her being the one with the legal pad at the table. You knew she was hellbent on solving this case, and had been for years, so you let her do her thing.  You voiced your opinion whenever she stalled, reminding her of the reality of the situation and the like. Eventually your entrées arrived and she suddenly turned her attention towards you.

“I’m so sorry.” She shook her head, “this case just means so much to me.”

“I know how it is.” You gave her a soft smile,

“How’re you? You’ve been kind of weird recently.”

“What?” You laughed, “how?”

“You’ve been all flustered and weird this week.” She took a bite of her food as you busied yourself in taking a large gulp of the wine you were suddenly very thankful of ordering, your cheeks flushing. “Oh…my GOD! It’s a girl!”

“What!? No! Sonya, come on!” You protested, unable to meet her eyes.

“Kid…look at me..” her hand grasped yours, pulling your attention to her face, “I know you better than basically anyone on earth…it’s a girl right?”

“Yeah…” you sighed heavily, stabbing at your food, “I…didn’t realize it at first, but…I might have a bit of a crush…”

“Well Novak’s stunning, so honestly I’m not surprised.”

“What!? Sonya! No!”

“Oh please!” She rolled her eyes, “I watched you fall in love with Cabot. You stare at Casey with that same dopey look on your face. Go for it! You know Alex would want you to be happy, and if it can’t be her, it can at least be another super pretty prosecutor. Hell, I want you to be happy, you two already get along so well, and I’ve definitely seen her staring at you when you’re not looking. Take a chance, ask her out.”

“Oh my god Sonya.” You rolled your eyes, ever so thankful when your phone pinged, you were needed down at SVU. “I’ve gotta run.”

“I’ve got this.” Sonya gestured to the food, “as long as you promise you’ve got Novak.”

“Oh my GOD!” You laughed, calling over your shoulder as you dashed from the restaurant. You had no idea how to even think about reacting yet. You’d barely realized you might have feelings for Casey, this whole ballpark was still pretty new to you, who knew what was going to happen? At least you had Sonya’s words echoing in your head as you headed toward the precinct.

*

You spent what felt like, and what was, hours going through a case at the 16th with Fin and Munch, you questioned the perp, you watched the detectives question the perp and you spent far too long watching the two of them piecing together the case. Throughout the afternoon you’d shot a couple of texts off to the group chat between you and the other SVU lawyers, hoping for a meet up later after all of this bullshit. You were finally done, waiting for the elevator when Stabler’s voice rang through the hallway,

“Counsellor!” You did your best not to roll your eyes as you turned to him,

“Can I help you detective?”

“Do you have any idea where Paxton is?”

“At a meeting…why?”

“We need to get to her. Now.” Liv interrupted, “do you know where?”

“I uh..I can’t remember the name, but if I come with I can guide you there.”

“Good enough!” Elliot practically tossed you into the car and your heart suddenly started to beat a million miles a minute. You knew whatever Sonya was dealing with at the moment wasn’t easy, and if SVU was this concerned, something wasn’t right.

You pulled up to the church where Sonya’s usual AA meetings were held, the three of you moving with ease throughout the building, though you did let the other two take the lead. They began to talk to the group, gaining responses only about how it was supposed to be anonymous. You glanced down the hallway, the bathroom was only a few feet down, and if Sonya wasn’t in the meeting room, maybe she was there.

As much as you’d expected and hoped to find her in the bathroom, you had never imagined you’d find Sonya on the floor of the bathroom in a pool of blood her hands clutching at her throat at she gasped to breathe.

“I need a bus!!!” Your voice screamed through the room, diving down next to her body, your hands taking over the pressure against her neck, “you’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay..” you felt your eyes blur up with tears. No…there was no way you could handle losing a second part of the big three, she was going to be fine, you had to think it into existence. “Sonya, please, please…stay with me, stay with me..we’ve got you.”

You felt Olivia’s presence at your back, her voice shouting into her phone. What you didn’t feel was the slowing of Sonya’s heartbeat against your fingers, her pulse slowly dissipating as she slipped away, the tears that burned in your eyes. You barely remembered the screaming and crying, fighting against Elliot’s arms as he pulled you away, as Sonya’s body was lowered into the morgue’s car, unable to watch the coroner zip the sleeve over her face. This couldn’t possibly be happening. It had to be some kind of bad dream, how were you supposed to deal with losing two of the greatest people in your life. It was like the world was trying to play some cruel fucking joke on you. And you..you weren’t laughing.

*

Casey had had a shit day, she’d spent it with Cragen and a few uni’s while scouring over locations that the boys from the Montreal case may have dumped the vic’s body, and thus, Jason’s. With no star witness, they’d had to drop all the charges pertaining to the original vic, with Jason having not turned up, and statements from a court officer, it was basically confirmed that he was dead. Casey was wrought with guilt over, feeling the bile pooling in her stomach at the sight of Jason’s body being pulled from the river. The only upside was at least now they could arrest the boys for that murder.

She’d gotten home later than she’d planned, heading straight for the scotch while she browsed through a take out menu for dinner, not having the energy left to cook. After ordering her eyes landed on the group chat in her messages, she knew Sonya was at a meeting, but heavily debating calling you. It was one of those nights where she wasn’t sure if company would make things better, or a time where she just would rather be alone.

Her food arrived, she picked at it scarcely, consuming more liquor than nutrients, letting her brain turn to mush over the mindless television show in front of her. She was surprised when there was a soft knock at the door, it was so quiet she nearly missed it, too deep in her own grief to realize it wasn’t coming from the t.v.

The moment she swung open the door she was wrenched out of her dazed state, her eyes widening as she realized your shirt was soaked with blood,

“Oh my God, y/n! What the fuck happened?! We need to get you to a doctor.”

“It’s not mine…” you choked out through a sob. Casey felt her own heart constricting at the uttermost sorrow pouring from you, she pulled you into her arms, kicking the door shut behind you. You easily fell into her embrace, there were barely any tears left by now, your body shaking with silent sobs. Casey’s hand cupped the back of your head, soothingly playing with your hair as she held you tight.

“What happened?” She murmured softly.

“Bastard got Sonya.” Your words were muffled against her sweater, another small cry coming from your lips as Casey pulled her head back far enough to see your face.

“What?!”

“He tracked her down…” you wiped at your face with the sleeve of your shirt, “we were too late…she bled out..”

“Oh my God…I am so sorry.” Your eyes slowly darted around the apartment, noticing the forgotten takeout, the half drank bottle of scotch, moving up to Casey’s face you could see the puffiness and red rim of her eyes, realizing she had been crying and you suddenly felt like you were intruding.

“Fuck..” you muttered, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have just shown up like this, I just…had nowhere else to go. I’ll..get out of your hair.” Turning away you moved for the door, your shoulders slumping at the thought of returning to your cold empty apartment. No matter how shit of a day Casey had had, she wasn’t about to let you wander off alone right now, gently grasping at your hand and pulling you back.

“I said my door was always open, office or apartment, and I meant it.” You gave her a tight smile, “besides, you’re covered in blood, I can’t let you wander the streets of New York like that. C’mon, I’ll get you something to change into.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She gave your arm a squeeze, leading you down the hallway “feel free to shower, help yourself to whatever you need.” She pulled some comfy looking clothes out of her closet, handing them to you, “take all the time you want. I’ll be in the living room ready and waiting with a fresh glass of scotch.”

“Thanks..” you murmured, somewhat blown away by her instant hospitality, unsure of how to handle it all. She gave you another soft squeeze before leaving the room, a quick smile over her shoulder to reassure you. She was relieved when she heard the water begin to run. It didn’t matter what the situation was, but if she was stressed, or having a rough day, things always seemed to feel better after a shower an she hoped it would at least start to help you.

You didn’t take long, opting to pull your hair up into a bun to avoid getting it wet while you scrubbed away the remaining blood, the grime and emotions of the day swirling down the drain. Wiping off what remnants of your make up had managed to stay on your face, you tugged on the borrowed clothes, thankful that Casey had such comfortable and warm attire.

Out in the living room Casey had grabbed a second glass for scotch, and brought out the fluffiest of blankets she could find, tossing it over the back of the couch. She glanced up when you appeared in the room,

“Feel any better?”

“Much, actually.” You replied, crossing to the couch. You dropped down beside her and immediately pulled the blanket around your body, without even thinking you softly fell against Casey, and her arm instantly wrapped around you. The room stayed silent for a few moments before you spoke again, your brain a little more clear than when you’d first showed up, “were you crying before I got here?”

“What?” Casey’s head tilted slightly to meet your gaze.

“Your eyes were all red…It just..looked kinda like you were crying.” You shrugged.

“They pulled Jason’s body out of the river today…”

“Oh fuck, Casey I’m so sorry. And here I am acting like it’s my life that’s destroyed.”

“Hey..” her hand moved softly to your hair, “you just saw one of your best friends die, I had a case take a nose dive, they’re not exactly the same.” You sighed, turning your head back to the t.v.

“Yeah but I should’ve at least tried to listen, let you talk it out.”

“You’re listening now.” A few more moments of comfortable silence enveloped the two of you, you hummed as her hand moved soothingly through your hair.

“Casey?”

“Yeah.”

“Please don’t die on me…you’re all I’ve got now…”

Her heart clenched at your words, she knew what you’d been through, what you were going through, and all she wanted was to help and be there for you. You’d easily been able to lean on each other over the past few months, and she’d found herself almost falling, rather than leaning.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She murmured softly, letting you snuggle deeper against her as you fell silent again.

#casey novak #hidden desires #law and order #law and order svu #svu #law and order special victims unit

[whitehotharlots]

Previewing the 2024 Democrat Primary

Within a couple weeks of his being sworn in, just about every person on earth will wish Joe Biden was no longer president. Sure, the few surviving John B. Anderson voters will be thrilled to see 4 years of crushing austerity and half-assed attempts at Keynesian stimulus. But most people will begin dreaming about a brighter future.

Good news! The 2024 Democratic primary field is going to contain dozens of options. Bad news! They are all going to be disgusting piles of shit. 

The “top tier”

While it’s too early to do any handicapping, these are the candidates the media will treat as having the most realistic chances of securing the nomination. 

Kamala Harris

Kamala did not win a single primary delegate in 2020. This is because she dropped out before the first primary, and that was because no one likes her. She has no base beyond a few thousand of twitter’s most violent psychos. Her disingenuousness approaches John Edwards levels: any halfway incredulous person can see immediately beyond her bullshit. She has no principles whatsoever, and while that may be par for the course for Democrats, she lacks even the basic politician’s ability to intuit anything that might, hypothetically, constitute a principle. 

Even better: she is an awful public speaker. She sounds like how a talking dog would speak if he were just caught stealing people food off the kitchen table. She communicates in weird grunts and faux sassy squeaks, which is how she imagines real black women sound like, but something about her is unable to sell the bit. She begins her sentences in halfhearted AAVE, stops and panics halfway through as she realizes that maybe this sounds fake and offensive, and then reminds herself oh wait, no, this is okay since I’m black. This doesn’t happen once or twice per speech. This is how every single sentence sounds. 

Kamala is like Nancy Pelosi in that no sketch show will ever impersonate her correctly, because anything that came close to authenticity would be considered far too cruel. This might benefit her in the primaries, as she exists in the minds of Democrats as someone and something she absolutely is not in reality. Nominating her would be like allowing your child’s imaginary friend to attempt to drive you to the store. 

Andrew Cuomo

Easily one of the 50 worst people alive, Cuomo has a solid chance because Democrats, same as Republicans, are unable to differentiate between electability and self-serving ruthlessness. Cuomo used the deadliest public health crisis in American history as a pretext for cutting Medicaid and firing 5,000 MTA workers, and his approval rating increased. New York Dems are little piggies who love eating shit. If we assume that the political media will continue their habit of refusing to discuss the legislative history of right wing Democrats, Cuomo might well cruise to the nomination and then lose to literally any human being the GOP nominates by an historic margin. 

Joe Biden

The party loves him because he is a right wing racist. “Progressives” tolerate him because black primary voters over 40 supported him, and their opinion is supposedly a magic window into god’s truth. Everyone else can tell he is manifestly senile. I don’t put it above the DNC to pick a candidate who is in horrible health, dying, or even dead--whatever the financial sector wants, they’ll get. But I would be shocked if his approval rating is above 39% by mid-2023, and by that point deep fake technology will be advanced enough they’ll put out a very lifelike video in which the Max Headroom version of Joe explains he’s proud of his accomplishments--that budget’s almost balanced already--but, man, I gotta abd--I gotta abdica--, uhh, I gotta, I, uhh, I gotta move down, man. 

Wild Cards

These candidates would have all have a chance if they ran, but they could all much more easily retire to Little Saint James off of kickbacks they’ve gotten from Citibank and I.G. Farben. 

Rahm Emanuel

Rahm is going to receive some hugely influential post in the Biden administration. Let’s say he becomes Secretary of Education. His signature achievement will be replacing all elementary school teachers with Amazon’s Alexa, which saved the taxpayers so much money we were able to quadruple the number of armed police officers we put into high schools. This will give him several thousand positive profiles on network news programs and the near-universal support of the Silicon Valley vampires who will own 99% of the country by the time Biden’s term ends. They will use their fancy mind control devices to convince geriatic primary voters that Rahm’s the one who will bring Decency back to the white house. His candidacy will be the paragon of wokeness, as expressing concern toward the fact that he covered up the police murder of a black guy will get you called a racist. 

Rahm has a bonus in that Jewish men are now Schrodeniger’s PoC. When they are decent human beings, they are basic, cis white men who are stealing attention from disabled trans candidates of color. When they love austerity and apartheid, they become the most vulnerable people of color on earth and criticizing them in any way is genocide. No one will be able to mention a single thing Rahm has ever done or said without opening themselves to accusations of antisemitism, and that gives him a strong edge against the rest of the field. The good news is that an Emmanuel candidacy would result in over 50% of black voters choosing the GOP candidate--which, I guess that’s not really good but it would certainly be funny. 

Gavin Newsom

Newsom is every bit as feckless as Cuomo, but he doesn’t put off the same “bad guy in an early Steven Segal movie” vibes. He will mention climate change 50 times per speech and no one will bother to mention how he keeps signing fracking contracts even though his state is now on fire 11 months of the year. If anything, this will be spun into an argument about how he’s actually the candidate best suited to handle all the water refugees gathering on the southern border. Look for his plan to curb emissions by 10% by the year 2150 to get high marks from Sierra Club nerds. He’s also a celebate librarian’s idea of what constitutes a handsome man, so he’ll have some support from the type of women who claim to hate all men. 

Larry Summers

I mean, why not? Larry, like most members of the Obama administration, has politics that are eerily similar to those of Jordan Peterson. In normal circumstances, this makes a person a dangerous fascist who should not be platformed. But if that person has a D next to their name this makes them a realistic pragmatist who has what it takes to bring suburban bankers into our tent. If current trends in Woke Phrenology continue apace, Larry’s belief that women are inherently bad at STEM will be liberal orthodoxy by 2023, and his dedication to the Laffer Curve could see him rake in massive donations. Seriously, I’m not kidding: cultural liberalism is now fully dedicated to identity essentialism and balanced budgets. Larry is their ideal candidate. If he were black and/or a woman, I’d put him in the very top tier. 

Jay Inslee

Unlike Newsom, Inslee’s attempt to crown himself the King of Global Warming won’t be immediately derailed, since his state is only on fire because of protestors. This, however, poses a different problem. He’s going to be a good test case for the Democrat’s uneasy peace with the ever increasing share of the electorate who become catatonic upon hearing a pronoun. On the one hand, you need to take their votes for granted. On the other hand, they’re not like black people or regular gays: most voters actively, consciously despise wokies, and associating yourself with them will ruin a campaign even in deep blue areas. There’s still gonna be riots in a year. Biden’s gonna announce the sale of all our nation’s potable water to the good folks at Nestle and some trans freak named Sasha-Malia DeBalzac is going to use that as an opportunity to sell their new pamphlet about how it’s fascist to not burn down small businesses. No matter what Inslee does in response, it’ll end his career. 

AOC

I’m not one of those “AOC is a secret conservative” weirdos, but I am aware enough of basic reality to know she has zero chance of coming close to the nomination. The right and the center both regard her as a literal demon. The party is already blaming her for the fact that a handful of faceless Reagan acolytes failed to flip their suburban districts even though they ran on sensible pragmatic proposals like euthanizing the homeless. The recriminations will only get more unhinged when the Dems eat shit in the 2022 midterms. She will be a Russian, she will be white male, she will be a communist, she will be a homophobe: any insult or conspiracy theory you can name, MSNBC will spend hours discussing. Her house seat challenger will receive a record amount of support from the DNC in 2024 and it’ll be all she can do to remain in congress.

Larry Hogan

Don’t be dissuaded by the fact that he’s a Republican. Larry is the DNC’s ideal candidate: a physically repulsive conservative who owes his entire career to appealing to the most spiteful desires of suburban white people. He’s an open racist in a material sense--if you’re old-school enough to think racism is a matter of beliefs and actions, rather than the presence of cultural signifiers--but his is the beloved “never Trump” style of racism that Dems covet. He’s also a Proven Leader who thinks the role of government should be to finance the construction of investment property and give police the resources they need to run successful drug trafficking operations. Few people embody the Democrat worldview more than Larry. 

The Losers Bracket

These people will have at least a small chance due solely to the fact that the Democrats love losing. They have lost in the past, and in the Democrat Mind that makes them especially qualified.

Joe Kennedy

The man looks like a mushroom-human hybrid from a JRPG. Trump proved that physical hideousness need not doom a presidential bid, but a candidate still needs some kind of charm or oratorical abilities or, god forbid, a decent platform. Joe aggressively lacks all of these things. A vanity campaign would be a good way to raise money and perhaps secure an MSNBC gig, so Joe might still run. 

Mayor Pete 

I am 100% convinced that Pete’s 2020 run was a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. I am also 100% aware that Democrats are dumb enough to enthusiastically support a CIA plot meant to prevent working class Americans from ever having a chance of living decent lives. If we have some sort of military or terror disaster between now and 2023 the Dems are sure to want a TROOP, and wait wait wait you’re telling me this one is a gay troop? Holy hell there’s no way that could lose!

Stacy Abrams

Never underestimate the power of white guilt. She lost the gubernatorial race to Gomer Pyle’s grandson, and her spiritual guidance of the Dems saw the party lose black voters in Georgia in 2020. Nonetheless, she is regarded as a magic font of fierceness within the DNC. She might stand a chance if she can establish herself as the most conservative non-white candidate in the field, but there’s going to be stiff competition for that honor.

Elizabeth Warren

Liz is probably angry that the party so shamelessly sold her out even after she was a good little girl and sabatoged Bernie’s campaign for them--yet another example of high ranking US government officials reneging on their promises to the Native American community. Smdh. The fact that this woman hasn’t been bankrupted a dozen times over by various Wallet Inspectors genuinely astounds me. So Liz is probably going to run again, and her campaign will be even sadder the second time around. 

It might surprise you to hear this if you don’t work at a college or NGO, but Liz diehards actually do exist. She’ll get even less support this time because there will be no viable leftist in the field for her to spoil, but she’ll still hang in long enough to make sure the very worst possible candidate beats out the second worst possible candidate. Maybe she’ll fabricate a rape accusation against Sherrod Brown. Maybe she’ll spend her entire allotted debate time doing a land acknowledgment. With Liz, anything is possible--so long as it ends in failure. 

Amy Klobuchar 

Amy was the most bloodthirsty of the 2020 also rans. She will double down on the unpopular failures of the Biden administration, explaining that if you weren’t such a selfish idiot you’d love the higher social security retirement age and oh my god are so such a moron you think you shouldn’t go bankrupt to get a COVID vaccine? There’s a non-unsubstantial segment of the Democratic base that’s self-hating enough to find this appealing, but it won’t be enough to make her viable. 

Martha Coakley

She lost Ted Kennedy’s senate seat to a retarded man who was pretending to be even more retarded than he actually was. Then she lost a gubernatorial race to a guy who openly promised Massachusetts voters that he would punish them for electing him. Her record of failure is unparalleled, making her perhaps the ideal Democrat standard bearer for the twenty twenties. 

[the-firebird69]

We hear them saying it we're in trouble this clones are everywhere and he's having a problem and it won't stop and it's a nightmare and the guys after him and it's a nightmare and I'm putting my diary out I'm sure it'll go to New York to a museum. So we have a lot of arguments and fights but he's over there forcing it but you know it's terrible and it'll go to a museum but he wants all of the diaries done in the same format the same size display but the book is the same size as the diary book and the same look the exact same look maybe not the same colors because it will be in brass and it will be a note that most of the time it's a note from the artist you see art that is representative of someone and a single act or some of its some of the work is revealed or it's really the artist's face or a painting but here is art that is truly what needs to be conveyed and it is a tragedy that has struck humanity it's an art form that the writer of the diary has created as well in that their writing thoughts and occurrences in their lives that affected them and affected millions and millions of people and are very potent and very powerful but the message is conveyed very clearly and it is a little bit different than most art where you have only a few messages although very potent and powerful this is something that people will never forget.

So I'm going to put that and not abbreviated or changed and Hera will put her statement under his and we're going to use their stage names no we're going to use the stage names you gave them. And his is Hogan and hers is similar and she's the girl that he talks to. And we might change the first name and they did change the first name so we'll put that there it's going to be wonderful he's never written it down but we do have his handwriting he says it's atrocious so we're going to go with this original and s*** her hand right is still the same as his it's beautiful and they we'll recognize it and he's not only the character but he's the artist and the artist who came up with the concept and others will sign it as their art with their characters names and they're actually here except for the queen who will come to sign it later. And she's going to be listed as Mia. A different designation known whereabouts but not revived. A lot of people are submitting there diaries and they're coming in pretty fast and what it is is an art show but it's like a presentation and it's all as one piece it's a traveling art presentation they're traveling show and it's one grouping all together of everybody of all of the diaries so far we have permission from Anne Frank and Frank's family Queen Elizabeth's family our son and daughter myself and my wife we have writings Nevada Ariana we saved a lot of people from both sides, Frank Castle Hardcastle Duke Nukem Blockbuster yeah what kind of be bunched together except for our son and daughter. And we understand that they're right there all the time and you're right we should be mixed in with them people will see it and understand who we are. And Mac Daddy's going to put one together although he had a diary back then it's not so sure he should Paul dodos says requested his father's be put there. Ineventia yes it absentia. And a lot of people are coming forward it's a great idea it's going to take some work.

And they'll be translated into a different languages and post it so you can look at the different languages thinking of posting it like you post posters in stores like hot topics and stores like the one across the way and Spencer gifts I think we're going to do that maybe the same size cuz you can look at it without moving in or hitting with your toes it's a crazy idea and he wants to put it outside and we have stuff like that that's very durable and it looks like paper inside but it's not it's etched on something and it's a solid piece and it's very very rugged and you can move it

Thor Freya

I get it too it's really like what we should have been doing for years but we're going to go up to it and it's going to feel a lot different than it feels now. And people want music pumped in and a son says nephew says that there are plenty of songs and a lot of people know them and they're playing them in the stores now and it went global and it's working and Brad Germany is selling Waccamole the game and he's making them.

Mac Daddy

[buzzdixonwriter]

Another Pointless Top Ten List (But You’ll Keep Reading, Anyway)

My brother Rikk recently mailed me another top ten list of his, in this instance being his top ten favorite TV comedy shows (which he defines as 30 minutes or less, no movies).

The Three Stooges

M*A*S*H

The Andry Griffith Show 

The Beverly Hillbillies

Hogan’s Heroes

I Love Lucy 

The Honeymooners 

All In The Family

Get Smart 

Gilligan’s Island

His honorable mentions include F Troop, The Patty Duke Show, My Three Sons, Gomer Pyle USMC, Batman, Petticoat Junction, Mr. Ed. Bewitched, and I Dream Of Jeanie.

Again, one of those personal favorite lists that you really can’t argue with because it reflects personal tastes and / or fond nostalgia (though I am calling shenanigans on The Three Stooges; they were theatrical shorts shown in movie theaters, not a TV show, and besides, Laurel & Hardy are soooooo much better…).

But of course we’re going to play the game, so I’ll respond, first throwing in a caveat:  No skit comedy shows such as Monty Python’s Flying Circus, The Marty Feldman Show, Benny Hill, Second City TV, The Kids In The Hall, or Love, American Style.

I’m also omitting programs like The Gong Show and Jackass because while hilarious and under 30 minutes, they weren’t scripted or story driven.

So here’s my list:

The Dick Van Dyke Show -- the sitcom art form at peak perfection.  Carl Reiner’s insight into what writing for a mercurial TV star is like (in his case, Sid Caesar on Your Show Of Shows, for Van Dyke’s Rob Petrie it was Carl Reiner as Alan Brady).  If you’ve never seen the show, start off with their two best episodes, “Coast To Coast Big Mouth” and “October Eve” (though they’re all good).  “October Eve” is the one where Sally (Rose Marie) finds a nude painting of Laura (Mary Tyler Moore playing Dick Van Dyke’s wife) in an art gallery.  SALLY:  “There’s a painting here you should know about.”  LAURA: “If it’s what I think it is, I can explain.”  SALLY:  “If you need to explain, it’s what you think it is.”

The Mary Tyler Moore Show – this is the first American novel for television.  It’s a novel of character, not plot, and it traces the growth of Mary Richards, a 30 year old woman-child who realizes she needs to grow up, as she blossoms into a mature, self-reliant adult.  You can select two episodes at random and by comparing her character growth determine not only which season they were filmed but when in that season.

I Love Lucy -- eking out a bronze medal for its longevity and pioneering of the art form.  The first sitcom shot on film, it led the way in the rerun market.  Not just a historical icon but consistently funny.

WKRP In Cincinnati -- as crazy as a sitcom could get and still be within the realm of plausibility.  Never loved by its network, they bounced it around for four seasons until it faded away (it made a syndicated comeback a decade later, of which we shall not speak).  Great supporting staff, dynamite writing.  While they never steered away from serious subject matters (such as an actual rock concert tragedy in Cincinnati where several fans were crushed when rushing the stage), they will be forever and justly remembered for the beloved “Turkey Drop” episode.

Fawlty Towers – only two seasons and a mere 12 episodes and yet more comedic bang for the buck than anything else on this list.  John Cleese as a frustrated, short-tempered, conniving hotelier practically writes itself.  SYBIL FAWLTY:  “You know what I’ll do if I find you’ve been gambling again, don’t you, Basil?”  BASIL:  “You’ll have to sew them back on first, m’dear.”

That Girl -- looking back it can sometimes be hard to judge just how groundbreaking certain shows were.  Marlo Thomas as a struggling young actress finding romance and success in Manhattan seems positively wholesome today, but in the mid-1960s it was considered quite daring and progressive.  The Mary Tyler Moore Show took their opening credits inspiration from Marlo Thomas’ character exploring Manhattan in the opening credits of That Girl.

He & She -- a one season wonder from 1967.  Another daring and progressive show for its era.  Richard Benjamin and Paula Prentiss played a young married couple, he being a cartoonist who drew a superhero strip (the actor playing the superhero on TV in the series was Jack Cassidy at his manic best).  Another show with a dynamite supporting cast…and just too hip for the room at the time (honorable mention to Love On A Rooftop, a similar show from the previous season that also proved too advanced for audiences at that time).  

Green Acres -- started out silly but quickly took a turn into the surreal, breaking the fourth wall, commenting on the opening credits as they ran by, all sorts of oddball stuff.  Dismissed as a hayseed comedy, the truth is the supporting cast possessed dynamite comedic chops and their sense of timing is a joy to behold.  Forms a loose trilogy with The Beverly Hillbillies and Petticoat Junction since all three referenced the same small towns of Hooterville and Pixley  as well as occasional crossovers (honorable mention to the first season of Petticoat Junction which is as pure an example of Americana as one could hope to find and could easily be distilled into a feature film remake).

The Young Ones -- another two season / twelve episode wonder from the UK.  Four stereotypical English college students go through increasing levels of insanity as the series progressed.  Unlike most shows of the era where there was no continuity episode to episode, damage done in an early episode would still be seen for the rest of the series.  (They also would simply end a show when they ran out of time, not resolving that episode’s plot.)  Their random / non sequitur style proved a tremendous influence on shows like Family Guy.

Fernwood 2 Nite / America 2-Nite -- a spin off from the faux soap opera Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, this presented itself as a cable access variety show for Mary Hartman’s hometown of Fernwood.  With Martin Mull as the obnoxious host, Fred Willard as his incurably dense second banana, and TV theme song composer Frank De Vol as the band leader.  Because it’s so rooted in 1970s pop culture it doesn’t age as well as some other shows on the list, but many of the gags still land solidly today.  For the second season the show-within-a-show went nationwide and became America 2-Nite. Very funny, very well written, and all the more remarkable because these guys were doing five episodes a week!

Okay, so what can this list tell us?

Buzz is old.  Like really, really, really old.

Buzz stopped watching sitcoms in the mid-1980s.

There’s a reason for that.  By that time I was writing for TV and trying to get my own work done.  I didn’t have time to sit and watch TV on a regular basis (still don’t), and too often I could see the gears turning and guess where the episode was heading by the end of the first scene (still do).

I’ve veered away from “must watch” TV, especially shows that require the audience to keep track of what’s gone on before.

Tell me I have to see the first six seasons of a show to appreciate what happens in the seventh and you’ve just lost me as a potential viewer.  I’m strictly a one & done kinda guy now (though I will binge watch if a mini-series has a manageable number of episodes, say six).

My list represents a time capsule for what caught my interest and attention during a very formative period of my life, i.e., from the early 1960s as I became more and more aware that writing was where my future lay, to the mid-1980s when I hit a good peak stretch.

I don’t doubt there are great and wonderful hilarious comedies out there that I haven’t seen, I’m just listing what I have seen that did make an impression on me.

Your mileage may vary.*

    © Buzz Dixon

  *  It should vary!  Be your own person!

#media #comedy #sitcoms #Dick Van Dyke #Mary Tyler Moore #Carl Reiner #top ten lists

[itsy-bitsy-spider-fan]

Hold On to Me (I’m A Little Unsteady)

By @itsy-bitsy-spider-fan for @imgoingtocrash​

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Morgan Stark, Happy Hogan, May Parker. 

AO3 Link

Summary: 

“Can we just not do this right now?” Peter asked tiredly, glancing at Tony.

There was a beat of silence, and unexpected anger was rising in both of them. Tony because he was tired of seeing Peter deteriorate, and Peter because… well Peter didn’t really know. But he didn’t want to breach this right now. He didn’t want Tony to push him into saying something he shouldn’t. He felt like he was standing at a precipice high above an abyss, and he could either step back and give in to Tony by telling him everything that was going on --- everything Peter was feeling --- or he could stay in place and let the ledge crumble beneath him.

After the reversal of the Snap, Peter isn't doing as okay as he pretends he is. Luckily, he has a certain mentor in his corner to help him through it.

Peter knew what was happening to him, but he couldn’t stop it.

***

Hold On To Me (I’m a Little Unsteady)

The Blip had drudged up everything: every fragment of trauma he’d experienced, every bad thing that had ever happened to him (and it was a whole laundry list at that point), every loss he’d faced. He saw it every night.

Peter could count on one hand the amount of sleep (hours) that he’d gotten in the past two weeks. Getting through the day was agonizing, but at night, when he was alone and suffocated by thoughts he’d tricked himself into thinking were behind him, it was worse.

It wasn’t like Peter wanted to stay awake. Needing sleep was the only comprehensible thought that Peter managed nowadays. But the tradeoff wasn’t worth it. Seeing his uncle fall back, a gunshot piercing his brain and jolting him awake and upright wasn’t worth it. A building crumbling, collapsing, crushing him while he screamed for help wasn’t worth it.

Reliving the experience of fading to dust wasn’t worth it.

So he stopped. Stopped trying to sleep and started trying to crash. Peter waited until the exhaustion was too much for his body to physically handle and he crashed, too worn out for his mind to conjure up anything that might jerk him awake with a scream lodged in his throat and knives lodged in his lungs.

His mistake wasn’t staying awake.

It was thinking that pushing himself to the brink wouldn’t catch up with him.

Peter leaned his head against the window of Happy’s black SUV --- a new one, a different one than he’d ridden in five years ago --- lightheaded from the energy drink he’d chugged five minutes before getting in the car. His overnight bag was carelessly tossed onto the seat beside him.

Though his body seemed to buzz with energy, Peter could tell that it wasn’t real. He had maybe a half hour before that buzzing feeling was replaced with tiredness, and he’d be back to dragging himself through the day and pasting on smiles so that nobody would notice that he wasn’t as okay as he tried to be.

Or maybe he’d get lucky, and the energy drink would mimic the natural flurry of excitement that, according to Tony, Peter used to light up rooms with. It was just another he hadn’t quite managed to get back from before the Snap.

Sometimes, Peter thought that some parts of him were still on Titan. That not all of him had been put back together after Tony had reversed Thanos’ actions. As for Tony… seeing him helped as much as it hurt.

It was hard to see past the red and gold prosthetic arm. It was as much as a symbol that Tony was okay as it was a symbol that Peter hadn’t been good enough during the fight. His train of thoughts tended to be pretty depressing whenever he visited the lakehouse. “What ifs” were his weakness. What if he had been faster? What if he had stopped Quill? What if he’d been better, like Tony wanted?

And when he thought of the final battle: What if I had gotten there first?

The Iron Spider was similar to the suit Tony had worn. It could have formed the gauntlet. Peter could have snapped. Could have taken the hit of the ancient magic. Peter could’ve walked away from it. Right?

In the month that Tony had spent recovering and in a coma, Peter had stayed at the man’s bedside --- well. He'd stayed in a chair in the corner of the same room. He couldn’t bear to infringe on the space that belonged to Pepper, and Rhodey, and Happy, and --- and Morgan.

He never voiced his internal anguish, never talked about the dreams he had where he had taken the stones, and he had ended it all. Instead, he distracted himself by borrowing a tablet from a certain genius Wakandan princess and started fleshing out a design for a prosthetic arm. At first, it was nothing more than a means for peace, a cathartic activity. Then Tony, not long after waking, had seen it, and Shuri had built it, and Peter decided that he needed to do more. “Fixing” Tony’s arm was not enough.

He had to go back. Back to the Peter that May wanted, that she used to know, that Peter had been before. Peter thought that if May didn’t spend so much time deluding herself that Peter had come back in one piece, it wouldn’t be so easy to pretend she had.

That’s why Peter was on his way to the lakehouse. He liked it there, liked it more. And it wasn’t just because being at the lake was less stifling that being in the city. It was because Tony understood better than anyone the way that Peter felt, even if Peter never outright said anything. Tony pressed offhandedly, but when Peter shrugged him off, Tony gave him space. Enough to let him breathe without completely detaching himself from Peter.

“Kid?”

Happy’s voice was edged with concern and when Peter blinked, they weren’t moving anymore. The lakehouse stood in front of him, and trees made up the horizon around them. On the front porch, Peter spotted Tony immediately, and Pepper beside him. Little Morgan peeked out from behind them, dark eyes narrowed. She was still in the process of warming up to Peter (though Tony had assured him that it was a given.)

“Sorry, Hap,” Peter mumbled, popping open the door and swinging his bag over his shoulder. “See you Sunday.”

“Two o'clock on the dot,” Happy agreed.

Peter walked up to the house, and a small burst of warmth managed to loosen the tightness in his chest. Tony and Pepper both greeted Peter with a smile. Morgan was still watching him with curiosity. He probably needed to spend more time with her if he could manage.

“I’m making carbonara for dinner,” Tony told him, slinging an arm over Peter’s shoulder as they walked inside.

Peter shot a startled look at Pepper without thinking. The last time Tony had cooked for Peter --- BT (Before Thanos) --- they’d become distracted and the lasagna that Tony swore he could make in his sleep turned out worse than the store bought ones May liked to (try to) cook on Thursdays.

Pepper caught his look and laughed, “Don’t worry. He’s gotten much better.”

Tony made an offended noise, but Peter was already slipping back into his thoughts while they bickered, tripped up on how easily the joke had come. He headed upstairs to deposit his bag in the guest room and wondered if maybe this weekend would end up going fine. That he ’d be fine.

He should have known better. He didn’t even make it through the day.

Things went fine until dinner. The buzz of the energy drink predictably disappeared after an hour, though Peter was still clinging onto the hope that nothing would go wrong. But then Tony had pressed him after dinner, questioned how he’d been doing, how things with May and Happy were going, if he’d talked to May, if he was okay.

“Tony,” Pepper said quietly, when she noticed the way that Peter had gone tense, stifled anger warming his face.

Tony shot her a glance in acknowledgement, but his face was set and determined. “I just want to know how he’s doing, Pep.”

Peter wondered why just that much was leading him to irritation. “And I told you I’m doing fine, Mister St-- uh, Tony.”

“Mr. Tony?” Tony repeated, and Peter rolled his eyes, stabbing at his carbonara with his fork. “That’s new.”

“Can we just not do this right now?” Peter asked tiredly, glancing at Tony.

There was a beat of silence, and unexpected anger was rising in both of them. Tony because he was tired of seeing Peter deteriorate, and Peter because… well Peter didn’t really know. But he didn’t want to breach this right now. He didn’t want Tony to push him into saying something he shouldn’t. He felt like he was standing at a precipice high above an abyss, and he could either step back and give in to what Tony wanted by telling him everything that was going on --- everything that Peter was feeling --- or he could stay in place and let the ledge crumble beneath him.

“No,” Tony decided after a beat, stubbornness etched onto his face. Clearly, he’d been planning this ambush for a while. “Peter, just talk to me, kid.” He hesitated. “Or even if not me, then talk to May---”

“What do you want me to say, Tony?” Peter cut in, setting his fork down forcefully. He was breathing hard. Part of him wanted to know the answer to his rhetorical question.

“At this point? Anything. Tell me what’s wrong---”

“Just lay off me,” Peter half-yelled instead.

They both snapped their mouths shut when Morgan jumped, eyes wide and looking at both of them.

Peter grew angrier, but he was unwilling to admit that most of that anger was at himself. For not putting up as good of an act as he thought he was, for scaring Morgan, for yelling at Tony.

“Kid, calm down---”

“Or what?” Peter spat. “You’re going to take my suit? Ground me?” Tony’s face twisted with indignation and Peter stood, knocking his chair down in the process.

He stood up too fast though. The floor lurched under his feet, swinging back and forth like a pendulum, and black spots danced across his vision. Tony’s anger melted to concern and he reached forward but Peter batted his hand away and gripped the table instead. Unwilling to prove Tony’s point that Peter was very much not okay, he kept going.

“Well, newsflash, Tony. You don’t get to do that anymore. You never did.”

“Is that what you think?” Tony challenged, sufficiently distracted again.

“Yeah,” Peter answered, breathing heavily.

He hadn’t noticed Pepper take Morgan out of the room, but at some point, she had. It was just Tony and Peter, staring each other down.

“Sit down, Peter,” Tony said harshly. “I just want to talk.”

“ Why ?” Peter breathed, angry and disbelieving, both at once. “Why can’t you just let it go?”

“Because---” Tony stopped, pursing his lips. “It doesn’t matter. I know you’re hurting---”

Peter scoffed bitterly. “Of course that’s what you say. You think you know everything, but you don’t. And I’m not some math equation that you can just solve because you’re bored. So quit pretending to be a father and leave. Me. Alone. ”

It was a low blow, and Peter knew it. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care, or even stop to see the shock and hurt play across Tony’s face. Instead, he turned and stomped upstairs, heart beating rapidly. Blood rushed in his ears, almost drowning out the sound of Pepper and Tony talking downstairs --- apparently she hadn’t gone far.

Peter swept over to his bag and furiously began unzipping it. At the bottom, exactly where he’d left them, were his webshooters and his suit. Peter was clipping his webshooters onto his wrists when he heard footsteps and a small voice behind him. He turned, freezing at the suit of Morgan hovering in the doorway, looking unsure.

“Peter?” she asked quietly. “What are you doin’?”

Peter unfroze, shaking his head. “I’m leaving. I’ll--- I’ll see you later.”

He headed over to the window, opening it. Without looking away from the ground fifteen feet below, he heard Morgan take a few cautious steps into the room. Peter sighed. Anger still raged through his veins, but he knew better than to take it out on a kid, especially Morgan.

“But why?” she questioned. “We didn’t even have dessert yet.”

“I know,” Peter said quickly, deciding to only put his mask on, leaving his suit in a twisted heap on the bed. “It’s fine.”

He was halfway out the window, one leg hooked over the sill, when Morgan whispered, “Bye.”

Peter felt regret clench in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t be leaving. It was just a dumb fight, and really, it was Peter’s fault. Most of the anger that he’d taken out on Tony was derived from anger he had for himself.

But he wanted to act out. Wanted to be angry instead of face the exhaustion that never left him, or the fear that made it hard to breathe all the time. Or even the nightmares that, no matter what he did, never went away. His hands were shaking, he realized.

Peter leapt from the sill and landed on the damp earth without error. He glanced back when he paused for a deep breath. Morgan was standing at the window, leaning out and looking at him. Wind whipped her hair around her face.

Peter broke his gaze away and took off through the trees.

The knowledge that May and Happy were on a date night was what compelled him to stop by the apartment and put on his suit. He’d received too many shouted, “Who are you?”s from New Yorkers who recognized Spider-Man’s brand but were probably shocked to see him after a five and a half year break.

It only took an hour of patrolling for the regret to really set in. Tony had only tried to call him once, and Peter had ignored him.

Before the Blip, Tony would have called again and pushed it through. But that's not what he did. He just left Peter to his own devices, even though Peter was starting to realize that's not what he wanted.

Normality. That's what he wanted. He wanted it back. Bad. That seemed to be the root of his problems. He wanted things to go back to normal. Where having a conversation with May wasn't painful. When Peter could tell Tony anything. When waking up from breath-stealing nightmares wasn't an everyday occurrence.

Peter perched on the top of a building and let out a deep breath. He'd have to apologize. At least for the last part, because Tony had confessed to him more than once how much his own father had made him wary of his ability to be one. And Peter had thrown that in his face.

Peter stood, stretched, and started thinking about what he'd say.

I'm sorry.

The obvious starter but not enough.

I'm drowning. He could tell Tony everything. And Tony would help him tell May but May… would be so disappointed. Wouldn't she?

I didn't mean it.

Back to Tony, because Tony was the one that Peter had thrown cruel words at like knives.

A shrill scream and a grunt pierced through Peter's thoughts, and he snapped back into reality.

Looking down on the street revealed a woman being pulled into an alleyway by a hooded man.

One more save, Peter decided. Then to the lake house.

Looking back on the moment that he leapt from the building, he wondered: was he stupid for thinking that anything could go right? That it would? Or was he just too tired to realize that something was off about the alleyway attack he was about to interrupt?

The woman was nowhere to be found when he swung to the ground, but the hooded man was standing with his back to Peter.

"I knew you'd come," came the low, gravelly voice of the man. "Spider-Man always does."

Peter swallowed uncomfortably, feeling the familiar spider sense of his crawl up his neck. "Where did she go?"

Finally the man turned, a cruel, taunting smile pulling at his thin lips. "Pity. They told me you were smarter than this."

"Smarter than---"

Crack!

A baseball bat slamming into the back of his head. Pain shooting through his skull, white hot and breathtaking. Vision shuddering and warping.

Peter stumbled onto his knees, blindly firing a web behind him, but the newcomers had the upper hand, would have had it even if he hadn't have spectacularly missed like he did.

Panic streaked through him when he felt arms grabbing him, pulling him, dragging him backwards over cracked and dirty asphalt.

One clear thought filtered through his mind. Tony.

"Karen," he croaked, only for his hopes to be shot when hands fisted the back of his mask, pulled it off. "N-no---"

Another brain-rattling blow to the back of his head and Peter's thrashing and twisting lessened. His fights were almost completely dulled when two needles slid into his neck: either darts or syringes but both containing some kind of concoction that made his stomach flip and his limbs feel heavy.

The people who had him stopped dragging him and hefted him in the air, carrying him to the mouth of the alleyway, where the shadow met the street.

They were approaching a running vehicle, Peter realized, and his thoughts melted together. They were taking him oh God and he'd been so stupid, hadn't told anywhere where he was and he needed to tell Tony sorry, to tell May sorry that he didn't fight hard enough to get away ---

A loud bang reverberated through the alley, so intense that it drew a strangled gasp from Peter's mouth. A blast of heat washed over his body, too confusing for his muddled thoughts to comprehend. Then the arms digging into him were pulling away and he was falling.

He slammed into the concrete on his back, mere feet away from the awaiting van. Peter groaned and rolled onto his side, gripping his head as another wave of pain slashed through it, coupled with more bang s that made him grip his ears in agony.

He squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw and swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat, and just when he was at the brink, when his vision was starting to dim --- pain and overstimulation to his senses dragging him into an abyss --- all became quiet.

"Peter," someone breathed, voice shaking and scared but familiar. "Pete. Kid. Open your eyes for me."

Peter didn't want to. Didn't want to open his eyes and realize he was dreaming this up because Tony was mad at him, Tony wouldn't be here, but---

There he was, when Peter hazily cracked open his eyes. Crouching in front of Peter in the suit, though the faceplate was retracted. Concern was etched in every line of his face.

"Tony," Peter croaked, overwhelmed with regret and fear but also relief.

The pain was still there, too. Pulsing through his skull like a thick, hot fire poker being stabbed into his head over and over again.

"I'm right here, kid," Tony said. "I'm going to get…"

Tony didn't trail off. Rather, Peter found safety in his voice, his presence, and the tension seeped out of his body --- as did every ounce of consciousness that he'd been hanging on to.

When he woke up in the hospital room, he'd thought he'd be alone. He remembered pretty quickly what had happened, and the guilt still clung to him like wet clothes. He'd be disappointed, but not surprised, if the chairs surrounding his bed were empty.

Somehow, they weren't.

May was the first one he saw, and his chest tightened. She didn't see him stir, and neither did Happy. Tony, asleep in a chair on Peter's other side, didn't stir yet either.

It wasn't until Peter sat up --- and regretted the motion instantly since it made his head hurt like no other, drawing a shaky gasp from his lips --- did May look up. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw Peter struggling to move his pillows to support an upright position.

"May," Peter said, voice gravelly from disuse.

It was then, at the hoarse sound of Peter's voice, that Tony jerked awake, eyes flickering around the room before landing on Peter. Almost comically, Happy remained asleep.

"Kid," Tony said, moving forward like he wanted to reach Peter's hand.

May moved at the same time, and Tony jerked back, glancing at May like she might yell at him.

May paused, glancing from Tony to Peter before staying on Tony. "Don't fool yourself, Tony. He's your kid, too."

Tony looked at her, then nodded. When May looked away, Peter saw relief cross Tony's face, and he tentatively reached forward to grab Peter's other hand, waiting for Peter's nod of approval before actually grabbing it.

"I'm so sorry," Peter whispered. "To both of you. For fighting with you, Tony, and for not calling you May and---"

"We can talk about that later," Tony said, and May nodded in agreement, chewing her lip nervously.

Peter wanted to protest, wanted to apologize until it was drilled in their head how sorry he was, but a man in scrubs stepped into the room, and his attention was torn away. He glanced at Tony panickedly. This wasn't the same, confidential doctor that Peter had grown used to before the Blip.

"He knows you're enhanced," Tony said, squeezing Peter's hand. "And he's trustworthy. He specializes in enhanced people."

Peter glanced back at the man, who stepped forward with a kind smile. "That's right. I'm Doctor Weber. Do you know your name?"

Peter nodded slowly. "Peter Parker, sir."

Weber smiled again. Peter figured if the man was dangerous, his Spider Sense would have let him know already.

He didn't think about how unreliable it had been when he was sustaining the very injury he was in the Medbay for.

"The sedative your assailants used has already been metabolized," Weber began as he fiddled around with the nearby machines and screens. "There should be no lasting effects, but I am more worried about the fractured skull."

Peter winced, resisting the urge to prod the back of his head.

"I have a few precautionary questions…"

Peter answered Weber's questions correctly and was given another dosage of souped-up pain meds. He tried not to let his heavy eyes fall closed, but before he knew it, they were slipping shut… and his body was heavy and he was tired…

But he had to know who had done this to him in the first place. He managed to force his eyes open and glanced at Tony, who would probably start with the truth instead of trying to censor it to protect him like May would.

"Who did this?" he managed.

Tony's eyes went dark with a familiar anger, the one he saved for whenever someone targeted Peter and landed Peter in the Medbay. "Natasha's working on it as we speak, but so far, we think they may have been a splinter group from Hydra."

Peter nodded drowsily. "I am… safe?"

His tongue felt like it was made of rubber.

"You're safe, kid," Tony affirmed as May squeezed Peter's hand.

"Sleep, Peter," May instructed softly. "We'll be here when you wake up."

That turned out to be a lie, because the next time Peter opened his eyes, it was just him and Tony. Tony had a tablet in his lap and was video-calling someone.

Peter stayed quiet, not wanting to intrude, but Tony noticed him anyways. The soft grin on his face dropped and was replaced with stone.

"I'll be up later, Pep," Tony said, not looking away from Peter, who instantly felt worse for pulling Tony away from his conversation with his family. "Bye."

"Where's May?" Peter asked quietly.

Tony set his tablet down on the empty chair next to him. "She went upstairs with Happy. Said it was to shower but I think she knew that your meds were wearing off and wanted to give us a chance to talk." Tony paused. "A great woman, your aunt is."

Peter nodded, but there was a lump in his throat that kept him from speaking. Peter didn’t know if it was a big fat ball of regret or just plain emotion. Tony looked at him and sighed.

"I'm not mad, Peter."

Peter looked down at his lap. “You should be.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I was,” Tony said, and even though his voice was light, it sounded strained. “But then Weber showed me your charts, and Friday ran some scans. They estimate that when I brought you in, you hadn’t slept for thirty-two hours, Peter.”

When Peter said nothing, Tony said, “Did you know that skipping on sleep for so long causes moodiness and irritability?” It was a question with an answer that Tony didn’t want an answer for. “Now, there’s a lot of fun side effects to sleep deprivation --- hell, I’ve been there more times than I can count --- but I think those two matter the most in this situation.” He eyed Peter scrutinizingly. “What do you think?”

Peter swallowed. “That I’m an idiot.” Peter paused. “And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be---”

“ Not just for our--- our fight,” Peter said urgently, needing to get the weight off of his chest that it had been crushing his lungs and ribs for weeks. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Tony was clearly unwilling to push on that, probably after what happened last time, but Tony didn’t need to. The truth was already spilling out: a dam that should have come down a long time ago.

“I’ve been having nightmares,” Peter confessed, unable to meet Tony’s eyes. “Bad ones. And I’m… I’ve been too scared to sleep because every time I close my eyes I see you, dying. Or Thanos snapping, or my uncle, or--- just. Everything, Tony.”

Tony’s face was masked off, but his words were soft. “You should have told me, kid. You should’ve came to me sooner---”

“I know, ” Peter breathed, and when he looked back at Tony, his eyes were shiny with tears. “But I didn’t want to bother you when you were still..” He waved his hand vaguely towards Tony’s prosthetic arm, which was mostly covered by the gray hoodie that the man wore. “And I was scared that you would think, I don’t know, less of me? That I couldn’t be part of the team and I couldn’t lose Spider-Man even if I haven't been him for a while because that’s all I had left from the old me---”

Tony’s mind was spinning like lottery slots, probably because he was processing Peter’s ramblings at light speed. He clearly didn’t know where to start, but his voice was firm and insistent when he reached out, gripped Peter’s shaking hand and said, “Kid, there is no old you, okay? You’re still Peter Parker, you’re still my kid, and having nightmares or trauma doesn’t make you weak or take that away from you.”

Peter sniffed, ready to say something, but Tony wasn’t done. “Trauma isn’t something you can just push away and get over. Not when you’re dealing with things like Thanos or any villain you’ve faced as Spider-Man for that matter. Fighting people, putting them away, seeing death: it follows you home. It sucks. And I say that as the posterboy of PTSD.”

Peter wiped his eyes, disbelief shining in them. Tony had never opened up about that kind of stuff before, though Peter had pressed after Homecoming whenever he spent the night at the Compound.

“We’ve both gone through some shit,” Tony said. “It’s not ideal, but it’s part of the job. An occupational hazard, if you will. We might as well make that a prerequisite for joining the Avengers.”

“That doesn’t make me feel much better,” Peter joked with a watery laugh.

“I’m trying to say,” Tony continued, “that we’re here to help. All of us, but especially me. Right now. I’m going to do whatever it takes to put a smile back on your face, okay?”

Peter studied his face, and after a beat, nodded. “Okay.” He looked down, toying with the blanket in his lap. “Will you help me talk to May?”

Tony stood, and for a brief, terrifying moment, Peter thought that he was leaving. But instead, he gently nudged Peter’s leg out of the way, and Peter scooted over to the side of the bed to make room for Tony to lay down. Peter couldn’t help but smile when Tony crossed his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, like they were sunning on a towel on the beach and not squished together in a hospital bed in the Medbay.

“Like I said,” Tony answered, “Whatever it takes.”

Peter nodded, which quickly turned to him yawning. The conversation --- plus the fractured skull --- had worn him out. Exhaustion, but a different kind, was already dragging him into sleep.

But even with his eyelids drooping and bodily tension disappearing, he still heard Tony murmur, “I invented time travel for you, kid. I’m not giving up on you now.”

#friendly neighborhood exhange #irondad #peter parker #tony stark

[that-shamrock-vibe]

Movie Review: Sonic the Hedgehog (Spoilers)

Spoiler Warning: I am posting this review the day the movie is first released in the U.K, so if you haven’t yet seen the movie do not read on until you have.

General Reaction:

It's difficult with today's movie going audience to predict how movies like Sonic are going to perform and be received. Especially when the ad campaign did absolutely no favours for this movie other than convince Paramount that Sonic needed a more truthful redesign than what they originally put out.

Here's the thing. Sonic the Hedgehog to me is trying to be 2020's Detective Pikachu capitalising on that nostalgia of a beloved classic franchise.

However, I do feel that the haters and internet trolls out there are not going to be able to get past the comparisons this movie draws to 2011's Hop, which was a live-action/CGI-hybrid movie starring James Marsden who becomes the companion of a somewhat overbearing CG creature.

But, I encourage all movie goers, including the haters, to go into this with an open mind...particularly if you have any history with Sonic because you will get some enjoyment and walk away afterwards feeling happy overall.

My personal history with Sonic is slightly less-so than I would like. I played the original 2 SEGA games countless times and did watch some episodes of the earlier animated shows.

Having said that, my main Sonic fandom actually comes from the mid-noughties series Sonic X, which I feel this movie could have adapted but alas. Also I played the Shadow the Hedgehog spinoff game and more recently Smash Bros where I actually won as Sonic recently.

Now this movie reminds me of those shows and games practically in no way. I mean there is that opening sequence where you see Sonic running around and looping like he does in the SEGA games, I do also feel like James Marsden's character could easily be an older version of Chris, the boy from Sonic X, but aside from that, the gold rings and Robotnik...there's not a lot for the Sonic fans to spot.

I can't say this is a perfect movie, because it really is not. There are a lot of super speed gags and some of them do stick but some just fall flat and at times feel repetitive.

The worst crime this movie commits in my opinion is stealing Quicksilver's gimmick of speed scenes. By which I mean there are not one but two occasions when time is slowed down to almost a halt and we see Sonic running around still. They even have songs specific for these scenes.

Also, because I'm not fully aware of every Sonic incarnation, I did not understand why Sonic is effectively The Flash with being able to generate lightning. I mean I understand the laws of physics of generating enough friction can create static but I have never known Sonic to have any electric attacks.

I did like how the static electricity was preserved in his quills when they fell off though. In animation and the games you don’t think about Sonic’s realistic hedgehog qualities such as having quills so it was a nice touch.

I am also aware that Sonic has turned Super Saigen before with the help of the Chaos Emeralds I believe, so the fact we see a similar transformation here is quite good to see for that reason.

In terms of story I do think this is a simple plot that has been done numerous times, Hop is definitely one example that comes to mind, but I feel it’s also a very accessible story for non-Sonic fans.

I don’t know if Longclaw the Owl is an original character or one from Sonic mythology but I did not really vest much interest in her. Baby Sonic I thought was cute, but I refuse to accept anyone saying he is cuter than Baby Yoda as no one is cuter than Baby Yoda.

On the subject of age, it was good to see them acknowledging Sonic’s age for a change as opposed to just presuming because up until now I did always think he was some sort of teenager but this confirms it. If Baby Sonic is around 5-9 years old then Sonic in present day is late teens which makes sense with his temperament.

The gold rings being used as teleportation devices, I don’t know if they’re meant to be in the games but loved their use here.

I enjoyed the use of technology in this movie and particularly Robotnik’s commentary on how technology is more reliable than people which ties into his ultimate fate of being stranded alone without another soul on the planet he is sent to which forces him further into insanity.

The fact Sonic’s story is about fitting into society while James Marsden’s character is about figuring out what’s right in front of him are great parallels and do balance each other out rather well.

Also where he ends up with effectively being part of a family as well as a town hero was a nice way to wrap things up.

However, that mid-credits scene showing the arrival of Sonic’s faithful protege Tails to the real world looking for his friend screams for a sequel, especially if this means that more of Sonic’s companions could be introduced in the future like Knuckles, Shadow or even Rouge the Bat.

Characters:

Dr. Robotnik:

I don’t want to say he is the best character because I feel all four of the main cast members do a great job, but my favourite definitely is Jim Carrey as Robotnik. This is Carrey back on form and there were so many great shades of back when he was at the top of his game in the 90s with work such as Ace Ventura, The Mask and The Grinch.

From his first scene he stole every scene he was in. You could tell that he was taking the role seriously while also having the time of his life with it and this is why, back in the day, he was on such high form.

He may not have been the overweight bald megalomaniac, at least with the latter two not until the end of the movie, but he was the evil genius and mad scientist and almost every line he delivered he nailed.

I think “rockonnaissance” is going to be the new “joygasm” for him but it worked for The Riddler and it works for Robotnik.

I’m also happy he was nicknamed Eggman in the movie by Sonic because of the shape of his drones, I thought it was fitting. I can’t wait for Sonic to see the new bald version.

Sonic:

Yes Sonic is second but I said it before, there were times when he was overbearing.

Ben Schwartz by the way does a fantastic job voicing the character, I know he voices Dewey in the new Ducktales series and also for some reason voices BB-8 in the Star Wars sequel trilogy, but this is my favourite role of his voice is so realistic for a wide-eyed and somewhat innocent “alien” hedgehog.

I enjoyed how when he first came to Earth he was this urban legend around Green Hills who spent those 10 years people watching and either making up nicknames for the citizens while also longing to fit in with them but knowing not to.

Also the movie’s comedy was never as vulgar as Ryan Reynolds or immature as Russell Brand. I think they had one fart joke in the movie but the rest was generic comedy movie material which was hit and miss in comedy.

It was quite touching also that he was so protective of Green Hills and the status quo so much so that when Tom said he was planning on leaving to move to San Francisco, he was so offended and I thought it was going to be that trope of “Oh now they’re going to separate only to discover they need each other later” but instead it was a few digs and then they got over it.

I am so happy they did redesign the character because the movie’s original look for him was horrendous and did make Cats look reasonable whereas this is more like the Sonic everyone knows and I did not realise he didn’t have his traditional running shoes until Jojo, the niece of Tika Sumpter’s character, replaced them for him.

I will keep saying I want a sequel just because I am interested to see where Sonic’s story takes him next, especially with Tails now on Earth and the potentiality that others could join.

The Wachowskis

Again I thought James Marsden and Tika Sumpter did very pleasant jobs. This is my favourite James Marsden performance to date. Up until now his roles have been either corny or simply bland for me but here, yes there were a couple of dodgy jokes and moments but overall I thought Tom was a very likeable character and at the very least a driven character.

His wife Maddie, first of all props to the movie writers for having a mixed-race couple front and centre in the movie. But also, Maddie, who is also an accomplished career woman alongside her accomplished career husband, did not weigh Tom down or the story down as simply being “just the wife”.

I also enjoyed Maddie’s sister and niece, Jojo is quite cute and for the little screentime that she has does well with it for a child her age. While Natasha Rothwell continues to grow in my estimations after her fabulous turn in Love, Simon as the very sassy teacher.

Others:

As for the rest of the cast, this was a great who’s who for spotting the great jobbing actors as Lee Majdoub, Neal McDonough, Michael Hogan and Adam Pally all have minor supporting roles that do not go unnoticed.

Meanwhile Colleen Villard (née O'Shaughnessey), who voices Tails in the video games as well as voicing Wasp in The Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes series and Sora in the Digimon franchise, reprises her role as the anthropomorphic fox in an uncredited mid-credits scene. I am hoping she returns for the sequel because it is good to hear her acting again.

Recommendation:

I do see a future for this movie in terms of a franchise. I do not quite see it crossing over with Detective Pikachu as I know there were rumblings of some sort of Super Smash Bros. movie cinematic universe.

However, if the movie does warrant a sequel, and with a current Rotten Tomatoes score of 64%, considering this seems to be a deciding factor for some cinema goers, I don’t see why not. I am hoping the future of this franchise does see the introductions of Knuckles, Shadow, Rouge and even Amy.

Potentially also spinning off from this franchise, there could be Donkey Kong, Mega Man and maybe even Mario to create that Super Smash Bros. universe.

Overall I rate the movie 8/10, it’s a great movie and definitely has some rewatchability to it.

Having said that I can see where some cinema snobs or even haters may come from as they inevitably target the movie but I encourage everyone not to be taken in by other people’s opinions, not even mine, make up your own minds and see it for yourself.

So that’s my review of Sonic the Hedgehog, what did you guys think? Post your comments and check out more Movie Reviews as well as other posts.

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedghog movie #sonic movie #sonic 2020 #sonic the hedgehog movie #sonic the hedgehog 2020 #sonic the movie #sonic the movie 2020 #sega #super smash bros #smash bros #tails the fox #james marsden #jim carrey #tika sumpter #neal mcdonough #michael hogan #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #knuckles #knuckles the echidna #detective pikachu #hop #sonic x