#she really didn’t even try pretending to be polite to peter .

[sciderman]

finally got my hands on a physical copy of the one, the only, the notorious, the most hilarious spider-man issue ever

#sci speaks #thinking about this issue all the time forever always #she really didn’t even try pretending to be polite to peter . #“we're gonna spend the rest of our lives together!!” “wtf ew.”

[fairlyang]

Let you break my heart again II🕷️

will your friendship be strong enough or will it be easy to crack through?

w/c: 2.9K

pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader

tags: angst, more heartbreak, no more playboy, typical girl best friend problems, crazy gf, cheating allegations, betrayal, heartbreak, the end

notes: I dragged a lil ass I wanted it done the next day but writer brain </3 FINAL PART !!!!! (My original idea was for mig to only admit his feelings to reader after she got gwen stacy’ed)

part one

Months had passed and this girlfriend actually stuck around. He didn’t get rid of her and he somehow didn’t grow bored of her like he had with the others.

The worst part had to be when they made the three month point and he decided it was finally time for her to meet you.

That day your nerves had grown and you weren’t so sure you’d be able to do it. To pull through and not just burst out crying when you watch as he looks at her with pure love in his eyes.

It looked like his playboy days were over and he was finally ready for a solid relationship.

You barely made it through the night and if it weren’t for Peter’s hugs and MJ’s comforting words when Dana went to touch up her makeup and Miguel went to go change clothes, you would’ve been an absolute goner.

It was getting late and Peter offered to take you home to which you immediately accepted. Miguel then offered to take you after dropping Dana off but you politely declined.

Especially after seeing how wide her eyes got and she was (not so) subtly glaring at you.

Usually girlfriends would hate the girl best friend just because they’re a girl, but in this case Dana is a smart girl, and she had an instant inkling of your feelings towards him.

Even though you’ve remained respectful like you always have been when meeting his girlfriends, she didn’t like that Miguel had a girl best friend.

She kept her mouth shut and pretended she was fine but slowly piecing things together in her head.

So after saying your goodbyes and leaving Miguel’s apartment it didn’t take long for you to break down in the backseat of Peter’s car with an empathetic MJ trying to console you.

It only grew more difficult to hide your true feelings. Especially because Miguel would now bring Dana to group hangouts. Which makes some sense, even though Peter and MJ were just friends when you met them, then grew feelings for one another.

Alas you had no choice but to suck it up.

Three more months passed by and your love for him never faded. He didn’t even treat you that differently either which did end up causing some trouble for him from Dana. She apparently didn’t like how close you guys were, even if you did know each other since you were 14.

She claimed she should be his only best friend and what else could he really ask for.

He told her that you’d always be his best friend and he wasn’t going to toss you out just because she wants to be his only best friend. He can have multiple best friends.

How could he throw away an 8 year long friendship?

He then called her crazy for thinking she can control who he’s friends with.

So she recalled his words right back to him when she randomly ended up befriending his younger half-brother, Gabriel, merrily weeks after that argument.

Miguel wouldn’t ever tell you the specifics of the argument, mainly because in a sense he wanted to protect you. He didn’t want you to feel bad that his girlfriend didn’t like you, (as if you didn’t already know) and that she wanted him to drop you.

So when hanging out just as a pair he’d only tell you he was frustrated with her. He told you that she had befriended Gabriel and you only saw red flags but kept quiet.

You tried to remain cautious of what you’d say when he’d come to you about relationship problems. Obviously deep down you want to tell him to break up with her because she’s toxic and controlling but it wasn’t the best idea as the supposed girl best friend that “isn’t” in love with her best friend.

So you told him to maybe spend less time with you, mostly because you genuinely couldn’t think of an actual suitable solution.

But it didn’t matter because ultimately he denied that idea quickly and looked deeply in your eyes promising you, “you’ll always be my best friend. Nothing’s going to change that.”

If only he knew and kept to his promise.

It was now two months after that conversation was had and a whirlwind of actions, words, and lies would turn everything around.

You went to eat some lunch at a cafe outside of campus when your phone died on the way back. You were fine without relying on your phone and just thought you’d charge it during your next lecture on your laptop.

As you finally hit campus and walked past different students sitting around the grass and benches, your eyes focused on a familiar head with its brown bob.

You sigh and felt your heart ache as you walked past Dana eating Miguel’s face out in public like that.

Until you took a double take and dread hit you after realizing it wasn’t Miguel she was making out with. It was fucking Gabriel.

You couldn’t believe she was just openly cheating on Miguel like it was nothing.

You stood a couple feet from them and you couldn’t believe this was real. You blinked, rubbed your eyes, and blinked again but sure enough it was the younger O’Hara brother with a red scarf and those goofy ass (but recognizable) goggles.

You gulped and took your phone out only for the screen to show that it was dead.

You mentally panicked and were afraid they’d catch you so you quickly ran inside and immediately headed straight to your lecture hall.

The klutz in you unfortunately never went away so you nearly fell as soon as you accidentally hit a body after making a turn.

Horror filled your eyes and body as Miguel held onto your shoulders, trying to see what was wrong.

Your eyes were wide and your heart was racing wildly, you couldn’t possibly do this right now.

“I- M-Mig- uh- ‘m l-late for c-chem- sorry!” You stuttered and pushed past him to get to class and manage your thoughts properly.

As soon as you made it and sat at your unassigned assigned seat that happened to be next to MJ, who was worried to see you so stunned, held your hand and tried to get you to be calm because you looked so distressed.

You hadn’t even realized your hands and legs were shaking. How could they not be?

You just witnessed the most brutal betrayal of all time and there was no concrete evidence whatsoever.

Your first instant thought was that Miguel wouldn’t believe you.

He was full on in love with Dana now, in what world would he believe the love of his love would be cheating on him?

Not only cheating on him but cheating on him with his brother?!?

MJ’s mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear a word, you couldn’t even read her lips. All your brain was set on was how of fucking course it had to be you who caught Dana’s ass cheating.

How fast she’d turn it onto you would be so insane. Disgusting even.

What if she exposed your feelings towards him?

What if she could convince him you’re lying?

All you could do is pray he’d believe his ole reliable best friend over a girl he’s been with for 6 months and his brother he never really got along with.

MJ was eventually able to catch your attention but it took the entire lesson for her to get a peep out of you. And that peep only happen to be a sad whisper of Miguel’s name.

As your phone finally charged your first instinct was to text Miguel, quickly typing the words, “need to see you, my place after class?”

He quickly responded with a simple, “sounds good.” Then followed by a, “should I be worried?” Which you had no response to.

You quietly told MJ the unfortunate news to which she nearly gasped out loud. Her eyes were wide and she finally understood why you were so freaked out.

The lecture had finally ended and you collected all your things while MJ was quietly asking you questions to which you quietly answered.

Following your tail as you left the lecture hall and off to find Peter to quickly fill him in, and to help with your nerves because you didn’t even know how to start off that conversation with Miguel.

They were both giving you suggestions on how to break it down gently to him while Peter drove you back to your place.

You could feel the anxiety building in your stomach and it felt so scary not knowing how he’ll react.

And it overall felt even worse that you couldn’t take a video or a picture. This was practically a test to see if he’d trust you enough to tell him the truth or just make up a lie.

You could only pray that he’d believe your words over hers but you couldn’t even begin to prepare yourself in case he didn’t.

How could he not believe you? Even if you’ve been desperately in love with him you’d never do anything to purposely destroy any of his relationships.

You were just too kind-hearted to ever even think about doing that.

Would he really have it in him to not trust your words anymore?

Will he believe her words over yours?

Will this lifelong friendship finally come to its end like Dana has been wanting from the very beginning?

Finally you had arrived at your apartment and you still felt uneasy. Miguel’s car wasn’t in sight until you heard the revving of his car and that’s when things started to get real.

They gave you their final words of encouragement before you got out and climbed up the steps to wait for him.

He parked behind Peter and as he got out you could slightly hear him ask if they were gonna come in to which they obviously said no.

He shrugged and walked over to you as you unlocked the first door before stepping in and walking to the left door that lead up to your apartment.

“Hey are you okay? You seemed shaken up earlier.” He said, walking in and shutting the first door behind him.

You walked in and stepped aside to let him go in then shut the door behind him. The anxiety returned and you weren’t so sure how to start it all off once you turned around to look at him.

Your heart ached and although you might’ve been filled with jealousy for months on end, you would never pray he would get hurt this way.

You always wanted happiness for him, even if it wasn’t with you.

And now that he had it, you had to break his heart.

How could you possibly let him down gently?

You felt your hands beginning to sweat and your legs started shaking again which he instantly noticed and grabbed you, carefully leading you to the couch.

He sat you down and sat right next to you, gently holding your hands, wondering what could possibly have given you such a drastic reaction.

You desperately tried to calm yourself but it was to no use. Your body was panicking inside and out, giving away that this was something serious.

You still didn’t know how to even start.

So you just blurted it out.

“Dana cheated on you.”

Silence filled the room.

You could’ve sworn he could hear your heart pounding out of your chest. He was frozen and immediate tears formed in his eyes.

This was so fucked up.

In all these years of being his shoulder to cry on, you were petrified that it would come to an end. In a way you kind of always relied on him being there no matter what.

This whole situation could make or break that.

“I saw Dana making out with Gabriel on campus…” you whispered before adding, “I’m so sorry.”

You had never felt so nervous in your life. You moved one hand from his and held his while he stared down at the floor.

You were subconsciously tapping your foot on the ground because the anxiety had just taken control and the silence was already killing you.

You couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, he truly has never been so happy, and now it’s just gone.

You looked at his face and as soon as you did, his tears started pouring out. One hot tear fell after another and you grabbed him, him embracing you as he cried into your shoulder.

You felt sick to your stomach, it felt like the most unfortunate thing to ever have happened to you.

Having to tell the love of your life that his girlfriend cheated on him.

Having to see how heartbroken he was.

Nothing would’ve prepared you for his reaction.

The quiet sobs and light shaking.

The way his hands were trembling while holding on to you.

You just hugged him as tightly as you could and gently rubbed his back to try to soothe him. Maybe it was past trauma that suddenly hit him, that he started to sob a little louder.

Your heart was practically breaking right with his. You felt downright horrible and weren’t sure how you could possibly help him. Only thing you could do was be with him, and you’d be with him for as long as he needed.

And you were.

Like the absolute best friend, of course you were.

The day after you explained in full, what you witnessed and he stayed at your place for a solid week before he decided to talk to Dana and listen to what she had to say. You offered to go with him but he said it was best you stayed, though he did really want your support but didn’t think it would be appropriate.

It was midday on a Friday when he had the call and he didn’t come back that night.

Or the next.

Or after that.

You had no fucking clue what was said and neither did Peter nor MJ.

Monday morning your mind kept thinking worst case scenarios which had you feeling uneasy as you were walking on campus to your first lecture.

Suddenly you stopped with Peter and MJ following suit at the sight in front of you. Miguel’s arms wrapped around Dana’s with Gabriel standing in front of them laughing at something.

That was the moment you felt your heart shatter into pieces at the realization of what happened.

Your words weren’t enough.

And in his emotional state and her false sweet voice she definitely used, of course he fell for whatever lying words she told him.

Her manipulative and crazy ass didn’t help from the pain this brought you.

He was your best friend.

Falling hopelessly and desperately in love with someone who was once a shy little nerd that would be there everyday for you, to now a man who doubted his best friend’s word for a girl he knew for less than a year.

8 years.

8 years you had known each other and not once ever lied to one another.

All of a sudden in his mind it makes sure that you lied about something as graphic as this.

All of a sudden he believes her words over your own.

Absolutely nothing could’ve prepared you for the way your heart ached and all you felt was hopelessness.

When Gabriel slightly moved, Miguel was now in clear view of you three, more specifically you.

The most vicious glare was all he was giving you meanwhile Dana only had a mischievous smirk on her face which gave you all the confirmation you needed.

Peter shook his head in disgust while MJ grabbed you, making you walk in the direction of your lecture while Peter walked behind you both before stepping up to him and muttering, “The truth will hit you hard one day.”

And boy did it.

Three months after that Miguel was going back to his place to cook a romantic dinner only to catch Gabriel giving Dana backshots on the kitchen counter.

Immediate regret hit him and he realized you were indeed telling him the truth.

He realized Dana’s bold lie that you were the liar, and made that stuff up about her was because you wanted to steal him from her, was indeed not real. That you weren’t deeply in love with him and needed to fabricate the perfect lie to finally steal him.

But before they both left (half dressed), Dana had to let him know that he was the easiest to manipulate out of all her exes. Then that the reality was that you were in love with him, the only lie being just that you didn’t plan anything.

She just hated girl best friends but also wasn’t in the mood for something so serious. She wanted a cop out. A way out.

So she figured you were the easiest target and making up that his other two friends, who she also didn’t like, were also in on it, was the best way to go about it.

The only reason she came back to Miguel was because she grew bored of Gabriel and wanted him back.

And he fell right into her trap.

And there was no way to fix or mend what he so badly broke.

It was far too late.

But at last, you’d never let him break your heart again.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara imagine #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara #Miguel ohara angst #spiderman 2099 #Miguel O’Hara angst

[defectivevillain]

this winding labyrinth

chapter 2: rebirth

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (reader is not gendered, race-ambiguous, and no physical descriptors are used)

summary:

You wish you never met Hannibal Lecter. But you yearn for his presence. You want to forget him. But he never truly leaves your thoughts. Now, you’re left to pick up the pieces of a broken design. A battle of instinct rages on in your mind—one of bittersweet relief and cloying grief, fearless resolve and poignant regret; a clashing between affection and antipathy, pride and pain. What will win, in the end? Only time will tell.

this is chapter 2, act 2 of this broken design. if you haven't read act 1 or chapter 1, this won't make too much sense.

ao3 version | Spotify playlist

warnings: canon-typical blood, gore, violence, death, animal death; nightmares, hallucinations, suicidal ideation, dry-heaving, hyperventilation, mental health issues.

You’re tired. Your hands are burning and your calluses sting. You don’t want to speak with your social worker, Clark Ingram. He was assigned to you after you sustained that traumatic brain injury from the horse. You know she didn’t mean it, know that Sylvie was just startled. That didn’t matter—no one listened to you. So here you are, sitting on a scratchy couch in a nondescript office, writhing with the indeterminable urge to do something.  

“Peter,” Clark practically coos. You hate him, more than you’ve ever hated anyone before. He is a bundle of contradictions: a fine-dressed man with a fine-dressed smile and fine-dressed lies. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

You grit your teeth and keep silent. Time drags on, immune to your internal conflict. 

“Is this about the horse?” Clark asks persistently. 

“Her name was Sylvie,” you feel the need to supplement. 

“Sylvie, then,” Clark corrects himself. You know he doesn’t really care, and that is perhaps the biggest offense of all. Why bother saying something if it isn’t genuine? You’ve always had a problem with faux politeness and socially-mandated compassion. You want to skip the pleasantries. Besides, this isn’t about Sylvie. But it is. But it isn’t. But it is. But it isn’t- but it is- but it isn’t-

“It’s alright,” Clark continues, momentarily breaking through the static in your mind. “I understand,”

“You do?” You ask suspiciously. You don’t believe him. 

“I understand completely,” Clark nods wisely. What he says next tears the rug from under your feet. “You placed a bird in Sarah Craber’s chest, and then put her body in Sylvie’s womb.”  You’re taken with an indescribable urge to tear him apart. “You killed Sarah Craber.”

“No, I didn’t,” you immediately respond. You feel a hysterical laugh bubbling up your throat, clawing at your lips and threatening to escape. 

“You killed her,” Clark asserts. You know something about this conversation is horribly wrong, know that a therapist shouldn’t be convincing you that you did something. Still, what is there to do? You’re required to attend these sessions, required to meet this monster’s gaze and play pretend until you’re exhausted. 

“I didn’t kill her!” You hiss venomously. The air around you almost seems to steam. “She was already dead when I found her!” The atmosphere feels terribly stifling. The walls are tunneling in on you, curving to consume you whole. 

“It’s okay, Peter,” Clark says, his voice soft as if he’s trying not to spook you. This realization only angers you further. “I won’t tell anyone.” 

“I didn’t kill her- ” You break off, clarity striking you. There’s a reason Clark is so desperate to paint you as the killer when you’re not. Clark Ingram is the killer those FBI agents are looking for. Clark Ingram killed Sarah Craber and so many more. Is he even a social worker? You suppose he really could be—Hannibal Lecter was a practicing psychiatrist and doctor despite being the Chesapeake Ripper. You saw his name all over the news, coupled with that FBI agent you spoke to the other day who offered you a phone number and a compassionate, patient smile. You think back to the times Clark Ingram has sent alarm bells blaring in your mind—the cruelty disguised by that sharp glint in his eyes, the dangerous gaze that you had always mistaken for an attentive one. 

You want to tell someone, want to run from the room and never stop running, until you’re speaking to Jack Crawford and the same agent as before. You desperately want to stand up, fabricate an excuse to cut the appointment short. But one acknowledgement triumphs over all these desires: no one will believe you. There isn’t a damn soul who has taken you seriously since your brain injury, and your memories of life before then are all an incomprehensible blur. You can already imagine walking into the Bureau—if you can even get past security—speaking to Crawford, watching his eyes squint before he lets out a loud laugh right in your face. 

You stare at your social worker. Clark Ingram stares back. For a while, there is nothing but silence.

Until something in you snaps. You don’t know what happens in the span of those few seconds. One moment, you’re glancing at the tableside lamp. You envision yourself grabbing at the lamp and striking Ingram over the head with it, knocking him to the floor in a heap. The next moment, you’re holding the shattered remains of the lamp in your left hand as you stand over Clark’s crumpled body. 

You’re not usually this reckless. You’ve never harmed a soul before—human or animal. You’ve always considered yourself a withdrawn person, perhaps even meek. Yet here you are, looming over your unconscious social worker as blood slowly trickles from the gash on the side of his head. Thankfully, it looks like he’s still breathing. You don’t know what you would have done with a dead body. An unconscious one, on the other hand, is a different story.

After some contemplation, you reach down and grab Ingram’s ankles. You drag him out of the office, taking brief satisfaction from the various bumps and collisions his head makes with the furniture and the doorframe. You must have some good karma, because there isn’t a single soul in the deserted office building. You bring Ingram’s body out to your car and throw him in the trunk. He doesn’t deserve anything more than that, you think. In fact, you have an idea for something that would even the scales. 

As you pull into the driveway, your plan begins to take shape. You carry Ingram into the stable, your muscle memory taking you to the stall that Sylvie inhabited just a few days ago. You want to be angry, but you have bigger, more important things to focus on. You take a deep breath and crouch down to place a hand on her chest.

Some time later, the deed is done. Blood is speckled across your hands. You briefly feel guilty—not for Ingram, but for Sylvie. The overarching sentiment running through your chest and crawling along your skin, however, is satisfaction. You take a moment to look at your vindictive masterpiece once more, before turning your back. 

With shaking hands, you reach into your pocket and pull out the scrap of paper that the FBI agent wrote the phone number on. For a long moment, you stare down at it. Are the agents really to be trusted? Should you keep this information about Ingram to yourself? You shake your head and pull out your phone, typing in the numbers with care. For a moment, the phone rings and rings. 

“Hello?” A familiar voice answers the phone. “Who is this?”

You take a deep breath to steel your nerves, before responding. “Peter,” you answer habitually, before realizing you likely need to clarify. You think you hear a hitch of breath on the other end of the call, but you put it down to your imagination. “Peter Bernardone.” You clarify. 

There’s a few beats of silence. When the voice returns, it is laid with caution. “Hello, Peter.” 

Soil traps you and locks your limbs, sticking to your skin and refusing to let its presence fade. Every fiber of your being seems to twitch in restlessness and your heart races in your ears. You swear you feel something wiggling on your arm—perhaps a worm. The thought revolts you and you writhe in your natural prison. Dirt kisses your lips, pressing a gentle hand to your forehead and enforcing the insurmountable distance between you and the sunlight. The darkness is not welcome—it is too cold, too damp, too hollow. You blink and there’s a horrible cascading sound. Suddenly, it feels as if you aren’t alone. Your hands continue to twitch and you recoil when you bump against something distinctly humanlike. Turning your head to the side, you come face-to-face with the corpse of Sarah Craber. She opens her mouth and a bird crawls up her throat, wrenching its way out of her mouth and bursting toward you in a yellow blur. 

You inhale in a shuddering gasp and quickly sit up, sweat rolling down the back of your neck as you’re suddenly brought back to your bedroom. You had a nightmare. It was just a nightmare, you repeat to yourself as you wash your hands clean of the unseen dirt. You regard yourself in the bathroom mirror, displeased by what you see. Dark circles bracket your dull eyes. There’s a mark on your face from your pillow. Your scar gleams tauntingly from its position on the left side of your face—Abel Gideon’s farewell gift to you. It had been healing, until the Chesapeake Ripper lived up to his namesake and sliced it right open again. 

You rub a hand over your face and briefly rub your eyes, before pacing out of the bathroom and getting back into bed. As you stare up at your ceiling and will yourself to fall asleep, the killer’s graveyard haunts your waking mind. You can’t help but think of the victims that were buried underneath uncompromising soil, never to breathe again. Jack had warned you to brace yourself, before you came upon the scene. You thought you had. 

Your conversation with Peter the other day weighs heavily on your waking mind, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you sit down in your office. There’s something off about it, but you can’t figure out what it is. He didn’t seem interested in providing you information. Yet, when Jack interrupted and said he had a lead, Peter almost morphed into a different person. He didn’t avoid your eye contact and his voice sounded noticeably brighter than before. You think back to that specific interaction. 

“Sorry, Peter,” you had apologized, “I have to go.”

“What is it?” Peter asked, turning towards you for the first time in the conversation. “Did you find him?”

“It’s classified, I’m sorry,” you responded. Your hackles had risen there, for reasons you hadn’t been sure of.  “But we’re tracking down this killer. I promise he’ll be put away.”

Why does that exchange seem more significant now?

“What is it?” Peter had asked. “Did you find him?” 

“Did you find him?” 

Peter knew the killer was male. 

Normally, that wouldn’t be cause for suspicion. In your experience, men are more likely to commit crimes than others. However, Peter’s statement was spoken with a frightening amount of certainty—despite the lack of veritable proof. That begs the question: how did Peter know? Does he know who the killer is? 

You want to speak to Peter again, but Jack doesn’t seem to think Peter needs any further investigation. You know better, but without Jack’s approval, you’re doomed to your office. You have to simper in frustration. Somehow, you’re sure that Peter knows more than he’s letting on. You hardly got anything out of him last time. Typically, when people are so resistant to questioning, it’s because they’re hiding something. You just need to figure out what Peter is hiding.

Your phone rings, cutting you out of your thoughts. Could it be Peter? You highly doubt it, but you decide to answer the phone regardless. 

“Hello,” you respond, “Who is this?”

“Peter,” the caller responds. Their voice sounds familiar. You feel an ugly feeling slide up your skin. “Peter Bernardone.”

Your eyes widen. You look around your office, before getting to your feet and shutting your door. You return to your desk and try to rip the words from your throat. “Hello, Peter.” 

“Hello,” he responds. He sounds different than before. Perhaps it’s because you’re hearing him speak. He didn’t speak very much last time. Despite the casual nature of the conversation so far, there seems to be anticipation and tension in his voice. 

“...Did you need something?” You decide to ask. It really seems like Peter called for a reason. You know you told him that he could call to speak to you again, but you aren’t so foolish to assume he’s calling because of that. 

“I…” He breaks off, sounding hesitant. The line goes silent for a few seconds, but the time passes with infinite lethargy. All you can hear are your steady breaths, the sound of your pen as you tap it against your desk, and the clock ticking on the wall. You can hear distant voices in the hall and you’re grateful that you had the foresight to close your door. “I think I’m ready to have another conversation.”

“Excellent,” you remark. You wonder if relief is evident in your voice. It probably is—Jack and you are desperate for any new leads on this killer. The last thing you want is for him to kill again and, as of right now, you don’t have much information to determine his whereabouts or his next move. “How does…” You trail off as you glance at your clock. “... an hour from now work for you?”

“That works,” Peter responds. He sounds like he’s had enough of the conversation. You don’t necessarily blame him for being apprehensive about speaking to a federal agent. If you were in his position, you’d certainly be distrustful. 

“Great, see you then,” you answer, giving him an out. He takes it and murmurs a goodbye, before the line goes dead. For a moment, you sit at your desk, your mind reeling. While you had provided your phone number to Peter for that express purpose, you hadn’t expected him to actually take you up on the offer to divulge more information. 

An equal rush of adrenaline and trepidation runs through you. The adrenaline wins out, as you get to your feet and pace over to Jack’s office. It isn’t a long distance, and you soon find yourself opening his office door. 

“Jack,” you start. Your boss looks up from his computer. “Peter called.” 

“What?” He asks. 

“Peter called my extension,” you elaborate, before you can grasp the consequences of doing so. In hindsight, perhaps you shouldn’t be admitting to sharing your agency-assigned phone number with a member of the public. Perhaps that’s why Jack’s eyes go so wide. 

“What?” Jack hisses. He looks like he’ll burst a vein in his neck. “Agent, that number is confidential and should only be shared with other government employees and officials.”

“Never mind that, Jack,” you interject before he can continue scolding you. That’s not important—at least, not right now. You’re sure you’ll have to sit through a lengthy lecture later on, when you have the luxury to sit down and think about trivialities. “He said he was ready to have another conversation.” 

Jack stills. He knows how important another conversation could be, but he seems to be battling against the instinct to reprimand you. You stare at him and, after a few moments, he sighs. Jack looks up from his glasses, which are gradually slipping down his face. “You’re not going to get anything more from him,” he says resignedly. You rejoice internally. That remark is a sign that, although he isn’t happy about it, Jack will permit you to speak with Peter. 

“I think I’ll get something from him,” you assert. You don’t think you’ll get more information—you know you will. Peter wouldn’t be calling unless he were willing, in some regard, to give you something. You’ll take almost anything at this point—anything that will free you from the muddied cages of damp soil and suffocation that haunt your nightmares. 

“Fine,” Jack sighs, knowing there’s no point for further argument. He certainly doesn’t look amused, but he seems to have given up now.  “Read over his file before you go.” Jack goes into his desk and retrieves the file, which you take with a murmured thanks. 

In the coming minutes, you learn more about Peter Bernardone than you could have ever hoped to know. The most useful piece of information doesn’t concern Peter, though. You look down at his listed social worker, frowning at the picture. The man looks innocuous enough upon first glance. Ingram is just about the only other person mentioned in Peter’s file, aside from a sibling that hasn’t been in contact with Peter for several years. Has this social worker, Clark Ingram, been brought in? 

“Did you speak to Clark Ingram?” You ask. Jack’s gaze is fixated on his computer. For a moment, you contemplate asking again, but then he responds.

“We spoke to him for a bit, but didn't come back with anything.” Jack responds. He doesn’t look persuaded, and you don’t think you’re convinced either. There’s something about the look in Ingram’s eyes in the photo… It looks as if there’s a hidden depth beneath that expression on his face, something he isn’t telling anyone. Indeed, he looks ever so slightly smug.

“Might have to pay him a visit,” you remark. Maybe you can do that after you speak with Peter. Your best lead right now is definitely Peter, but Ingram may be a good backup plan in case Peter clams up or suddenly decides to remain silent. Jack seems to think the same, because he nods silently. Armed with information, you send Jack a mock-salute and leave his office. As you walk through the Bureau’s halls and return to your car, you think about everything that has made up the case against this killer so far. You review evidence, circumstances, and backgrounds on the victims as you drive to the stable Peter works at. He hadn’t specified a location for your conversation, you’re realizing as you continue driving. If he isn’t here, you’re going to be in for an earful from Jack. You’re willing to take that risk, though. 

Some time later, you pull into the parking lot next to an unassuming SUV and park. You steal a few seconds to take some deep breaths as you wait in your car. Your hand is wrapped around your keys and you close your eyes, tilting your head down and trying to remember why you’ve come here. You’re not recalling your purpose for the visit, but instead, the purpose behind your decision to pursue a career as an FBI agent. You wanted to make a difference. You’re getting that chance right now, and you can’t blow it. Your shoulders almost feel tight from the intangible pressure that has been thrown onto you. Thankfully, you’ve grown to be comfortable working under pressure. The life of an FBI agent isn’t convenient or relaxed—the pacing of your work is extremely sporadic, and you’re expected to be “on” and ready at all times. 

Shaking your head, you step out of your car and walk up the dirt path to the stable. When you open the doors, you’re unsurprised to find a rider with her horse. You nod at her as you walk in, pretending not to notice how her gaze burns into your back when you pass her. Somehow, you know where Peter will be. You pass several different stalls, before reaching the one he was in a mere few days ago. The plaque on the stall says “Sylvie,” which must’ve been the horse’s name. You knock on the closed stable door and, after a few moments, decide to open it. 

Peter is in nearly the same exact position as before, with his back turned to the door and his eyes evidently fixated on the horse’s corpse. 

“Hello, Peter,” you remark. Peter doesn’t respond. You give him a few moments, before taking a few steps forward to break the distance between you. With your newfound position, you’re able to see his expression. To your surprise, the look on his face is slightly… different than the last time you saw him. Before, he had looked devastated, heartbroken, destroyed. Now, he almost looks… at peace. How could he have pivoted so intensely in such a short period of time? Something about his disposition unsettles you. “You wanted to speak with me.” You remind him. 

For a long moment, there is nothing but silence and anticipation. Then, Peter speaks. “I… wanted to heal her.” 

“You… wanted to heal her,” you repeat. What or who did he want to heal? Your initial reaction is that he wanted to heal Sylvie, but that doesn't sound right. She was already dead by the time Peter arrived, so anything he could’ve done would’ve been pointless. Is he referring to… the victim? “Sarah Craber?” You ask. 

“Yes,” he responds hollowly. His gaze is still locked on the horse’s corpse.

Somehow, it’s taken you this long to realize that you’ve underestimated Peter’s role in the events that transpired that day. “You were the one to put the bird in her chest,” you realize aloud. Yellow fluttering wings rush across your vision. Peter nods quietly. You’re not surprised. You should’ve made the connection sooner—should’ve thought of the bird as a gesture made out of kindness, not maleficence.

You’re sidetracked by the strange conviction that something in this stall has changed since the last time you were here. You try to rack your brain for the juxtaposition that is occupying your attention. Peter is here still, wearing similar attire and lingering in about the same position as before. There’s you, standing a bit closer than you were last time. There’s still hay strewn about the floor. The horse’s corpse remains against the wall, and the stench is beginning to grow more pervasive. The corpse looks the same, with the womb stitched up and the entrails hidden from sight. 

Hidden from sight? You take another look at the corpse. Last time you were here, the horse’s womb was exposed and the entrails were everywhere. Now, there’s no sign of blood or innards. Indeed, the stall’s floor is missing any sign of the gruesome scene from before. It’s not unthinkable to think that someone could have cleaned it up, but the horse’s womb looks entirely different. In fact, it almost looks as if someone stitched it back together. There’s no sign of the dead foal, but you suspect it was placed back in the womb. 

“Peter, did someone come through here and stitch her womb back together?”  You ask. 

“I don’t know.” Peter answers. It’s a lie. You can tell from the way his posture shifts, his shoulders falling ever so slightly as he almost seems to cower in on himself to avoid your gaze. 

“Did you sew her back up, Peter?”  You question. Peter stiffens and you realize you may have worded your statement indelicately. You scramble to find a better way to say it. “Did… did you heal her?” 

This prompts Peter’s attention. The man turns around, staring at you with wide eyes. His eyes look ever so slightly glassy and he stares at you for several moments, before jerking his head in a slight and nearly imperceptible nod. 

“Thank you for being honest with me,” you choke out. Your heart is still racing in your chest, despite Peter’s confession. Why are you still so unsettled and unnerved? The mystery surrounding the corpse has been cleared up. But it still feels as if something is missing. What could it be? 

“You’re not… angry?” Peter then asks quietly. You blink at him. 

“I’m not angry, Peter.” You reassure him. He seems to believe you once you utter the statement, and you watch as a little bit of the tension slips from his shoulders. There is still something that is bothering him, you think. “Now, why did you call me here?” 

“I… wanted to ask about my social worker,” Peter trails off. His back is turned again. Maybe he doesn’t like the idea of having a social worker. Maybe he’s uncomfortable talking about it. Amidst your speculation, one thing is for certain: this is a sore spot for him. 

“Clark Ingram?” You question. “What about him?”

“Has he been called in for questioning?” Peter remarks. 

You probably shouldn’t be telling him anything, but you know that this needs to be an exchange in order for Peter to feel comfortable sharing information with you. Sometimes, you have to give a little to get a little. “Yes,” you say. You decide to leave it at that and wait for Peter to clarify. 

“I think he… may have a role in all this,” Peter evidently settles for saying. He sounds hesitant.

“How come?” 

“There’s something off…” Peter begins, “in his eyes. The way he speaks to me, looks at me. Sometimes, he stares at me like…” He breaks off. Like you’re a test subject? Like you’re an intriguing new science experiment? Like you hold the very world in your hands?  “I’m probably not making much sense,” Peter suddenly acquiesces, rubbing a hand over his face. He seems self-conscious and anxious all of a sudden. If this continues, he won't be comfortable sharing any more information with you. You need to express that you understand him. And if a smaller part of you truly does empathize with him, empathize with being treated as an oddity… no one needs to know. 

“No, I know what you’re talking about.” You say. Peter turns and looks at you. 

“Really?”

“......Yes,” you remark. It takes you a little while to force the words out. You don’t speak on any of your thoughts, don’t want to monopolize the conversation or change the subject. Still, you are familiar with an attentive gaze that penetrates your mental defenses, leaving you uncomfortably vulnerable and raw in its wake. You are more than familiar with the shadows that beckon you closer, calling for you to do unspeakable things to the chessmaster sitting across from you in a dimly-lit office. 

“I just came from a session with him,” Peter continues, breaking you out of your thoughts. He doesn’t offer any further explanation. 

“Ingram? How’d it go?” You ask. Peter shakes his head wordlessly. This session lies at the center of Peter’s current stress. The interaction must’ve gone quite poorly indeed, because Peter goes silent. 

“Peter, are you alright?” Peter shakes his head, although you can’t quite tell if he’s answering your question or trying to shake off a phantom grip. 

“He was questioning me. About Craber. Saying I did it.” The confession stews in the muggy air of the stable. The rotting corpse reaches your nostrils, but even that undesirable stench isn’t enough to draw your attention away from what Peter just said. 

“Ingram was accusing you of her murder?” You press. 

“Manipulating me,” Peter says, picking at his lip. “Trying to get me to confess for something I didn’t do.” 

“That’s-” You try to say, but it seems Peter isn’t finished speaking. 

“I- I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I didn’t have a choice. And- I didn’t know how to handle the feeling.” Peter looks down at his clasped hands. 

“What feeling?” You’ve never heard your voice sound so quiet before. 

“Anger,” Peter responds, averting his eyes. His gaze is locked on the corner of the room. You take a step closer, then another. You take a deep breath and kneel down next to Peter, in front of the horse’s corpse. Suddenly, lightning flashes in your mind as you come to a realization.

You thought Peter’s grief explained his current positioning—the way he’s sitting in front of Sylvie’s body. That was your prevailing reasoning. You know that’s wrong now. Peter isn’t watching over Sylvie to grieve for her or comfort her. He’s guarding her. 

Why would Peter be guarding the corpse? There shouldn’t be anything there, save for the horse foal that he must’ve sewed back into the womb. But no, that hasn’t been confirmed yet. You don’t know what’s in the horse’s womb. If it were the foal, you suspect Peter wouldn’t be guarding the body. No, there’s something else. Peter put something in the womb and sewed it up to hide it. But what could it be? 

Peter placed the bird in the victim’s chest and placed the victim in the horse’s chest to heal her. This seems different. This time, whatever—whoever—he placed inside the horse’s womb was placed there as Peter tried to cope with his anger. This reconstruction was fueled by anger: anger at the injustice of the crime, anger at the thought of being accused of being the killer. Who was that anger aimed at? Where did Peter’s anger come from? “I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I had no choice… He was manipulating me.” 

Clark Ingram provoked Peter. Ingram was poking and prodding at him, trying to get him to confess to his role as the killer. What would Ingram gain from that? Ingram was only mentioned in Peter’s file as a social worker; they didn’t know each other prior to Ingram’s assignment. Ingram didn’t have a vendetta against Peter. No. Clark Ingram was desperate to get Peter convicted as the killer. Because…. Because… 

Clark Ingram is the killer. He tried to get Peter convicted in order to save himself. Shaking, you kneel down to the horse’s womb and press a hand to its belly. The dead foal isn’t in there—you remember it being smaller. You know what Sylvie’s womb is holding now. 

“Peter…” You remark. Your voice sounds foreign to your ears—eerily calm despite your heart thundering away in your chest. You’re choking on the words. You don’t want to speak, don’t want to cement the reality that you’re so afraid of. “Is your social worker in that horse?” 

Peter’s back is turned. He doesn’t respond for a horrible amount of time. You bite the inside of your cheek and try to maintain a sense of composure that you certainly don’t feel. A minute passes. Then another. Then another. When Peter responds, his voice is a murmur. “Yes.” 

You inhale sharply. Peter placed Ingram in the horse’s womb. He must’ve incapacitated him during their session, before bringing him back here to this stall. From there, Peter maneuvered Ingram’s body into a fetal position, before placing him in the corpse. Then, he placed the entrails and innards back in the womb, before sealing it all up again. You take a shuddering breath in, the act feeling more laborious than normal. Now that you’re kneeling next to Peter, you realize that his hands have been clasped in his lap throughout your conversation. There are muddy brown stains on the insides of his palms—dried blood. 

You don’t know how long you remain silent, staring at the corpse in front of you. Did Peter kill Ingram? You’re not sure you want to know. All you know is that, when you finally summon the courage to speak, Peter is spooked by the noise. “Will you remove him, please?” You ask. 

Peter stares at the corpse, then turns to you. He nods silently, almost imperceptibly. You pull out your gun and hold it at your side, watching as Peter slowly slices his knife along the horse’s stomach and traces the incision that he created. After a few moments, he gets to his feet and steps away. For an awful beat, there is nothing but silent anticipation. The quiet is broken by a loud gasp as the horse’s stomach pulses and eventually falls away to reveal Clark Ingram, covered in blood and entrails and panting as he returns to the open air. Ingram turns his head up and finds Peter before you; his expression soon morphs into manic rage. You quickly point your gun at Ingram and cock it, drawing his attention away from Peter. Ingram’s eyes meet yours and, immediately, a pendulum swings before your eyes. Clark Ingram murdered all those women and buried them beneath the ground. That momentary glance was all you needed to confirm your suspicions. Even now, as you look at him, you have to fight off the pendulum’s grip. You blink and you see yourself carrying a dead body, digging a hole on the earth to dump it. You blink again and you feel your hands shaking, writhing as you look at your next victim from afar. 

“Please,” Ingram begs. Old blood soaks through his clothing and colors his skin. “It’s not me.” 

You shake your head. The lie is half-baked and falls apart the moment it reaches the air. Ingram knows it too, if the positively malicious glare he sends Peter is any indication. You keep your aim steady and fixed on Ingram. Your finger twitches to pull the trigger. You grit your teeth and try to pull yourself out of the horrible compulsion to make this man hurt, the way he made those women hurt.

Ingram stares at you with a truly pitiful expression, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “Please,” he says again. You consider him for a moment. He has robbed many people of their futures. This man does not deserve to continue living, even if that life is confined to a prison cell.

You’ve dealt with criminals like this before: maleficent individuals that deserve a punishment far worse than what they’re getting. This is far from the first killer that you’ve had to confine to a prison cell, despite knowing they deserve the gallows. It’s one of the most frustrating, yet necessary, components of your position. You had never fought with the notion before. Today, though, you’re grappling with the thought. Does Clark Ingram even deserve to keep living? What divine force determined that he was worthy of living, while all his victims weren’t? Hannibal’s voice whispers in your ears, reminding you of God and his violence and cruelty. If God kills, why can’t you? Your head aches. Your hand is growing sweaty and your fingers are twitching. Ingram must sense that you’re approaching the brink of your patience, because his pleas turn louder and more pronounced. 

You’re drowning in a maelstrom of memories. 

“See?” Garret Jacob Hobbs croons.  

“This work… it changes you.” Jack remarks, just as he said to you all those years ago.  

“The killer in the flesh,” Dr. Frederick Chilton greets you, his teeth sharpening and glinting in the light.  

“You killed Franklyn Froideveaux,” Zeller accuses.  

“In your dreams, what do you see?” Hannibal had once asked you.  

“I see myself killing Hobbs, over and over and over again,” you had responded. “I see Abigail slowly fading on that kitchen floor. I see the blood spattered on my hands. And… I feel a smile on my face.” 

“ And, when you wake up?” Hannibal asked. “Dreams are often a pathway into the parts of our minds that we hide away from others. Perhaps there is some truth in these dreams. Perhaps, what you’re most afraid of…” 

“I don’t feel guilty,” you admitted. “Killing… felt good.”  

You blink hard and tilt your head, trying to shake the thoughts away. They return in full force. A shadowed figure stands at your side, guiding your aim to Ingram’s temple. The Chesapeake Ripper smiles at you, a cruel grin that rips the veiled darkness surrounding his form. 

Someone is yelling your name and their voice reverberates through your skull. You clap your free hand over your ear in an effort to silence the sudden onslaught of noise. Everything is growing to be too much. Voices are beckoning you, peering over your shoulder and regarding Ingram with malice. You open your eyes. Your hand twitches again. 

You don’t resist the movement, instead letting your restless impulse— your killer impulse —take over. You fire your gun. The bullet carves through the air in slow-motion, before settling in Ingram’s temple and carving into his skull. Blood splatters everywhere: over the ground, down the killer’s skin, across your face. You wipe the blood from your eyes. 

You stare ahead. Clark Ingram lies crumpled on the ground, the light fading from his eyes. He manages a weak groan, before his eyes promptly fall shut. You stand frozen in front of him. There’s a ringing noise in your ears. The pendulum from before has shifted into a metronome, swinging back and forth. A hollow echo resounds in rhythm as you stare at your first true victim. You’re shaking, trembling, shivering. Your gun slips from your hand, falls to the hay-filled floor with a thud. 

What have you done? 

Ingram isn’t just a victim, now. He’s your victim. This is truly your design. Everything fell into place the moment you raised your hand and aimed at Ingram’s temple. You can hear his voice echoing in your mind, begging and pleading with you to spare his life. Please. You bring a hand to your head, the pulsing sensation nearly enough to bring you off your feet. Please. Blood is trickling from his temple, falling down the man’s face in crimson tears. Please. You can hear an achingly familiar laugh, a whisper of the cunning wit you haven’t heard in years. Please-

You put your hands over your ears and fall down to a kneeling position on the ground, desperate for a reprieve from your thoughts and the guilt and the vindictive feeling powerful enough to send flames roaring up your skin- 

It’s hard to breathe. You feel yourself dry heaving over the hay-covered floor and, when you blink, you’re kneeling in puddles of Ingram’s blood. You try to inhale slowly, but your breath is hard to acquire and your chest burns with the effort. Saliva slips from the side of your lips as you try to recover from the fear, regret, rage, revulsion, pride that settles over your form. You look at Ingram again, take a deep breath. Wipe off your mouth. Take another breath. Slowly get to your feet. Walk over to him. Check for a pulse.

He’s dead. 

What should you do? You could turn yourself in and lose your job, potentially facing prison time. You could try to dress up the crime scene, make it seem like a suicide. That would be incredibly difficult to do without indicting Peter and making him a potential suspect. Furthermore, it’s somewhat implausible to think that Ingram would shoot himself after escaping the horse’s womb, rather than trying to wound his enemy. He had no qualms about sourcing his victims, and likely engaged in combat to do so. You feel your breathing quicken as you are forced to come to terms with the reality of the situation. It feels as if the world is caving in. Rationality is giving way to the emotions that suffocate you. 

Distantly, amidst it all, you can recognize that there’s one more option. You never would have considered it before— before him, a traitorous voice whispers in the back of your mind. (It sounds like Franklyn.) However, you truly feel as if you have no better choice. And if a part of you wishes to make things even once more, to harm the criminal who ruthlessly killed Ingram in cold blood…. 

You take a deep breath. “Peter,” you say calmly. Your voice sounds unnaturally tranquil. “I need you to do something for me.” Peter looks at you quizzically. “Walk out of the stable. Go back inside and… don’t come back out until you hear me.” Peter stares at you for a long moment. He is startled. There are flecks of blood on his cheeks. Through the emotional whiplash of what you’ve done, remorse and guilt briefly prevail as you realize that you shouldn’t have gotten Peter involved in this. Thankfully, what you’re asking of him provides him an alibi for what will come next. 

“How will I know when you…?” Peter breaks off, staring at you in confusion. 

“Can I trust you to do that for me?” You interject. The sincerity in your voice seems to unnerve him. 

“Yes,” Peter responds with a perplexed but resolute nod. “Yes, I- Okay.” He takes one last look at the corpse in front of you, before turning around and heading for the exit of the stable. 

You wait a few moments, until you’re sure that you’ve given him enough time to return to the farmhouse. You’re compelled to look down at your gun on the stable floor. It’s not the preferred weapon right now. You instead reach and grab the knife at your belt, turning it over in your hands. The metal gleams at you tauntingly. For a moment, you can see blood spilling from it. It must be a trick of the light. 

You take a step closer to Ingram’s corpse. And… another one. You’re nearly standing over the body now. Your fingers feel stuck to the knife, a frozen grip forcing you to wield the weapon. You shouldn’t be doing this. But you have to pay for what you’ve done. 

You close your eyes and reach up, knife in hand. 

For a moment, your hand hovers in the air and you contemplate going back. 

It’s a foolish thought. You can never go back to the way things were. 

Your aim rings true, and the blade sinks into your forearm. You scream. 

Through the pain shooting up your arm, you manage to shakily push yourself a bit further, reaching out with your uninjured hand to grab at Ingram’s hand. From there, you manipulate his fingers so that he’s gripping the knife. You make sure to close his hand around the blade, before taking a deep breath through your teeth.

There’s a chance you won’t survive this. 

You can’t find it in yourself to care. 

You pull the knife out with the corpse’s hand and let out an uneasy groan as pain floods through your arm. Your vision spirals, blackening around the edges and spinning in a dizzying array of colors. You feel like a marionette with limp strings, left to crumple to the ground without a puppet master. The last thing you see before your world fades to black is the neat hole carving a path straight through Ingram’s temple.

next chapter

Just in case I didn’t make it clear enough, the reader stabs himself & wipes off the prints/places the knife in the grip of the corpse. This creates a situation where it appears as if Clark stabbed the reader before he killed Clark. (Of course, the reality of the situation is that the reader killed Clark first, which he wasn’t supposed to do). By stabbing himself, he covers his tracks because he can claim that the murder was in “self-defense” and “after provocation.” It’s a little flimsy, and I’m no forensic expert, but remember that this is fiction. I can do whatever I want here. *grins*

You may be thinking: Hey, Hero (that's me)… couldn’t a stab wound like that be lethal? And the answer is… probably? I did some research to try to figure out the practicality of stabbing yourself and surviving, but it ended up triggering me so I had to stop searching.

Rationalization for Peter and his actions: Peter fades to the background once Ingram comes out of the womb because the reader is armed and serves as a blockade between Ingram and him. Peter is lurking somewhere behind you throughout the interaction, to protect himself from Ingram. Keep in mind that he is an entirely unarmed civilian, so there’s little that he could do to affect the outcome. ||| Peter does what the reader asks of him because he trusts him. Few people have ever taken the time to understand Peter, so the fact that the reader went out of his way to make him feel comfortable (such as not forcing him to talk or make eye contact) influences Peter’s view of him. Plus, Peter didn’t like Ingram. That much is obvious. Ingram’s death is not really a tragic affair for Peter. Finally, Peter was confused and searching for guidance in the chaos of the situation. So, when the reader gave him something to do, Peter jumped at the chance—in the hopes of either distracting himself or gaining clarity. ||| If I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t quite remember Peter’s canonical personality, so I sort of just… went with my gut. My gut ended up writing him to be autistic, because I’m autistic and what little I remember of him seemed to fit.

The reader’s motivations for killing Ingram could be justice, Hannibal’s influence, the cruelty of Ingram’s crimes, hallucinations… or any combination. Your pick. And don’t worry, the reader isn’t going to suddenly transform into a killing machine—this was very much an isolated incident. (..or was it? jk.) This protagonist’s morality is dubious, so that this fic can be distinguished from the TV show. I also wanted him to be darker, so sue me.

Here’s a scrap from this chapter that never made it. I like it too much to let it die out in my doc:

Idly, you imagine what Hannibal would do if he were here. He’d place a hand on yours, slowly push your weapon down until it was pointed at the ground. Perhaps he’d even slip a hand under your jaw, prompt you to look at him as he smiles that infuriating smile—the one with an equal amount of unearned pride and cunning. It doesn’t matter, you have to remind yourself. Hannibal isn’t here. No one is here—not Jack, not Beverly, not Alana. There is no one here to stop you from crossing a line you won’t be able to come back from.

As always, thank you so so much for reading! I will see you all in the new year! Wishing each of you a refreshing and relaxing start to the new year! ily <3

TAGLIST: @its-ares @tobbotobbs @xrisdoesntexist @gr1mmac3 @tiredstarcerberuslamb @yourlocalratwriter @kingkoku @kahuunknown @atlas-king1 @pendragon-writes @slipknotcentury @cryinersaved @the-ultimate-librarian @starre-eyes @pendragon-writes @peterparkeeperer @gayschlatt69

#defectivevillain #male reader #x male reader #x gn reader #gn reader #hannibal x reader #Hannibal Lecter x male reader #Hannibal Lecter x gn reader #Hannibal Lecter x reader #hannibal x male reader #hannibal x gn reader #transmasc reader #masc reader

[aerequets]

sugar, spice, and everything nice

ao3

rating: G

genre: fluff, humor

synopsis: After the fifth time Loid turned around to see Yuri feigning immense interest in their coffee table, he sighed, long-suffering and in disbelief of what he was about to say. “...do you want to come see what I’m making?”

a/n: this is the first fic i'm posting that was not written in one sitting past midnight :D milestones yall! also i think the first fic which isn't twiyor centric? anyways i know some people love yuri and many, many people loathe him. i'm more on the neutral end, where i acknowledge he's a funky guy and if i ignore the weirder aspects of his love for yor and pretend its just intense attachment issues due to trauma etc then i think he's swell. i didn't really know how to write him since in the series itself he's used more as a plot device than anything else, and loid's view on him reflects that, so hopefully this doesn't feel too weird. also ending fics is hard im sorry 🙏🙏

anyways i've talked enough, one last thank you for everyone who leaves reviews and kudos, i don't get to respond to them but i do read them all and appreciate the love <3 enjoy

...

“Yooor!” Yuri sang as he shoved the door to the Forger residence open, bouquet of flowers in hand. “I got off work early so I decided to come… and…”

His voice petered out as he took a better look inside the apartment he’d just forcibly entered. The chihuahua girl and her polar bear of a dog were in the living room with some noxious cartoon blaring on the TV set. That damned Forger was in the kitchen, messing around with something that definitely didn’t smell good whatsoever. Most importantly, there was a glaring, offensive lack of Yor!

“Where is Yor?” He asked, accusingly pointing a finger at Loid who finally looked up from his work. “What did you do to her?!”

Loid’s eye twitched. What made Yuri assume he could just barge in whenever he wanted and find Yor waiting for him? “She got called out for a late night shift.”

“Don’t lie to me, you—” Yuri’s other senses finally caught up and he begrudgingly confirmed that whatever Forger was messing around with did smell good. Really good. And vaguely familiar? He sniffed the air deeply, trying to figure it out.

Anya looked up from her cartoons. “Are you acting like a dog, Unkie?”

“I’m not the dog here!”

Loid debated with himself as Yuri stood in the doorway, neither coming in nor leaving. The polite, Loid-Forgerly thing to do would be to invite him inside to wait for Yor to come back. That was what upstanding gentlemen, good members of society—far from the blacklists of the SSS— acted like; gracious, affable.

The thing was, he didn’t really want to.

He watched Yuri argue with Anya about dogs (“there’s an actual dog, and then you, chihuahua girl. I am a normal person!”) and groaned. Come on. What would Yor think if she heard Yuri came by and I turned him away? It would be no good if he displeased her. He had to do this for the sake of Strix.

“Would you like to come in?” He called from his spot in the kitchen, none too welcomingly.

(Doing it for the mission didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.)

Yuri was torn from his impassioned argument with a literal first grader. “Tch… I guess since I’ve brought flowers, I might as well put them in water,” he muttered. “No other reason!”

He came in. He split the gargantuan bouquet up into six different vases. He made some comments about how Anya’s cartoon was impossible according to the laws of physics. Then he just stood in the living room, trying—and failing—to act like he wasn’t peering at Loid’s activity in the kitchen, still loudly sniffing the air. Really, even if Loid didn’t have senses sharpened to a knife’s point, it would be difficult not to notice Yuri. To make matters worse, every time he turned back, Yuri would suddenly whip around and act like he definitely wasn’t loitering, the way they did in bad sitcoms. Is this the way the SSS carry out their own covert operations? he wondered.

Aside from Anya’s cartoon playing in the background, it was painfully quiet, the only sounds coming from Loid's activity in the kitchen. It seemed like Yuri wasn’t going to strike up a conversation, and Loid wasn’t inclined to, either. But then why is he just standing there?

 After the fifth time Loid turned around to see Yuri feigning immense interest in their coffee table, he sighed, long-suffering and in disbelief of what he was about to say. “...do you want to come see what I’m making?” 

 Yuri squinted at him like he was affronted at the mere notion. “Hmph. I guess I could.” The speed with which he made his way to the kitchen offset his haughty tone. He glanced down into the various bowls Loid had set out on the counter, one filled with sliced apples, another with some uncracked eggs, and a third with flour, sugar, and spices laid out, but not yet combined. 

 “Apples,” Yuri said, almost dumbstruck. He forgot to keep the scowl on his face as he picked up an aniseed from the third bowl and brought it to his nose. It seemed like he finally found what he’d been sniffing around for. “You’re making apple cake?”  

 “Close,” Loid said, surprised by Yuri’s flip in demeanor. “Apple streusel pie. Do you make apple cake?”

 “Not me. But… this smell is…” Yuri mumbled, smelling the anise. “I don’t really remember, but this thingy smells familiar to me.”

 “It’s star anise. And people often say that smells are stronger links to memories than visuals,” Loid offered. “Maybe it’s something you used to have.” 

 Yuri’s eyes widened. “Oh. Now that I think about it…” He held the aniseed up to the light. “I think Mom put this in apple cake once, on Sis’ birthday.” He cut a glance to Loid. “Apples are her favorite.”

 Loid knew—that was why he was making apple streusel. But he was more astonished at the fact that Yuri brought up an old memory to him at all. Right now, with Yuri looking at the aniseed with an almost wondrous expression, it struck Loid how much of a kid Yuri was. 

 Yuri was only twenty years old. When Twilight was twenty years old, he was still new to WISE, training hard and getting his ego beaten down even harder. He’d thought he knew everything there was to know back then.  

 Could he blame Yuri for thinking the same way? 

 For the first time, Loid found himself regarding Yuri with something that wasn’t annoyance. Sure, the guy was more attached to Yor than superglue, but again, could he be blamed? He was a kid clinging onto the only thing left from his childhood. 

 Yuri turned to him with a grim expression. “I think I should take over this baking project of yours.”

 Any feelings of tenderness were dashed in an instant. “What?”

 “Apples are Yor’s favorite, and I know her best, so I should make the apple cake.”

“Apple streusel. ”

 “Whatever!”

 Loid resisted the urge to physically kick Yuri out of the kitchen. Don’t tussle with an SSS officer. Don’t tussle with your wife’s brother. Don’t tussle with a kid! “Are you forgetting the last time you came and destroyed the kitchen?”

 “You may have won then, but I won’t back down from this fight,” Yuri hissed. Loid gaped, a headache building in his temples. Since when was this a fight?

“Is this round two?!” Anya’s voice suddenly piped. The two of them turned to see her standing by the counter, looking strangely excited. She’d abandoned her cartoons to stretch up onto her tiptoes to see the counter. “Papa versus Unkie?”

“We aren’t doing that,” Loid said at the same time Yuri declared “I’m going to wipe the floor with him.” They turned and glared at each other.

Bond trotted up to Anya and nudged her with his nose. She paused, turned to the dog, and then brightened up.

“I just thought of a way better idea,” she announced. “Let’s all bake for Mama together!”

“What?!” The evening was spiraling way out of control. All Loid had wanted was to make some apple streusel for Yor since she was working late so often and deserved a treat (because if she got too tired or fed up, it would reflect badly on their fake marriage). Now he was meant to bake with her hyperactive brother and his equally hyperactive daughter—two people with an entire lack of abandon in the kitchen?

“No way,” Yuri sniffed, and for once Loid wholeheartedly agreed—until he continued, “I'm gonna make such a good apple streusel Yor will forget why she ever married you."

“This is not your kitchen,” Loid said, patience evaporated. “You aren't making anything, not here at least.”

“What, are you scared?”

“I'm not going to argue with you about this—”

Anya sighed loudly and tutted as if she were an exasperated adult. “Mama will be happiest,” she said slowly, “if we all make it.”

That got both men to pause. Well, thought Loid, I am making this to cheer her up in the first place. Anya's not wrong…

Agh. If it makes Sis happier, then shouldn't I…?

Anya smiled in satisfaction. In the snippet of the future she read from Bond's mind, it seemed like everyone was getting along and Mama was smiling really wide, so Papa and Unkie had to stop fighting in order for that to happen. As fun as round two sounded, that future seemed better.

(Also, in that version of the future, everyone was too distracted and happy to notice Anya sneaking extra dessert. Double win!)

“Yay! What do I do?” Anya asked, eagerly hopping up on a stool. “Can I put the crumblies on top?”

“It's not time for that yet,” Loid replied. “Though you can help me make the topping if you want. Er, Yuri, if you want to get started on the custard, you can crack the eggs…”

“Right, eggs,” Yuri repeated before picking one up and smashing it into the bowl, shell splintering. Loid and Anya jumped.

“Not like that!” Loid cried.

“Even I learned how to crack eggs,” Anya unhelpfully supplied, leading Yuri's face to glow red. Loid felt a tinge of pity (he knew how Anya's words could burn firsthand) and cautiously asked, “Did you ever learn to crack an egg, Yuri?”

“It was fine to do it this way before Yor ate your food,” he mumbled in response. Loid was silent for a few seconds before turning to the fridge and pulling a fresh egg out. “This is how you do it.” He demonstrated over the bowl, noting how Yuri carefully tracked the movement. “Tap gently enough to make a crack in the shell. Then pull it apart like you're opening it. Yor learned this way too.” He threw the empty shells away before adding, “Not everything has to stay the way it was before, you know.”

A muscle in Yuri's jaw jumped, but he said nothing and instead set to cracking the other eggs, a little clumsy but decidedly better. Loid then got Anya to whisk the powders together ( “Gently,” he insisted, since it seemed Anya had some sort of floury vendetta) and he cut the butter in for the streusel topping. Yuri began haltingly asking for instructions on what to do next, which Loid was glad to provide.

Time passed like this, with Loid and Yuri slowly warming up to each other via baking. During the process of whisking, mixing, pouring and arranging apples, it seemed like Yuri forgot to be thorny with Loid, and Loid forgot to be cross at Yuri's presence. Anya, too, quickly forgot why she was helping at all and went back to watching cartoons, in wait for when the streusel would be ready for her to eat.

It was when a warm, cinnamon-sugary smell was filling the apartment and Loid and Yuri were cleaning up that the front door opened. Yor trudged in, tired and sore from the night's assignment and ready to collapse into bed. She froze upon seeing six fresh vases and a very familiar pair of shoes in the doorway.

The TV was playing one of Anya's cartoons, but the living room was void. Yor, weary and blood still pumping, immediately assumed the worst. Oh, no. What if Yuri came and got in a fight with Loid? What if he found out we're fake married?! Where's Anya? And—

She, too, had to pause and finally breathe in the mouthwatering scent hanging in the air. There was just something about it…

Abandoning all caution, Yor slipped inside, keeping her steps light just in case something really was wrong. But it smelled too good for there to be any real damage—was that sound logic, or was she just hungry? In any case, she made sure not to draw attention to herself as she poked her head into the kitchen. 

“And for pots that have a lot of gunk in them, you can just boil a bit of water with soap and vinegar  and wait till it foams. Makes it easier to clean,” Loid was telling Yuri. “Yor taught me that, actually—oi, Anya, don't open the oven yet.”

“Makes sense.” Yuri was scribbling something down in a notepad, punching down on the dots and lines. “I'll triple-star that one since it's a tip from Sis.”

“Is it ready yet?” Anya was alternating between excitedly jumping in front of the oven and plastering her face up against the glass. Bond, too, was sat next to Anya with his tail furiously thumping on the ground. “It smells sooo good!”

“It'll be just a minute. Come on, back up from there, both of you.”

Yor was so shocked at what she was seeing that she dropped her purse, alerting everyone of her presence. They all gawked at each other; Anya and Bond were the first to react, scrambling up from their spots. 

“Mama! You're back!” Anya exclaimed, hugging her mother's knees. Bond barked and Yor pet his head absentmindedly, still trying to process what she was seeing. 

“I am,” she said faintly. “Yuri…? When did you get here?” 

“Sis!” Yuri said, also snapping out of his stupor. He sheepishly tucked his notepad away. “Um, a bit ago, I guess. I came to visit you, but you were out, and…"

“Did you guys bake together?” Yor asked, daring to hope. Yuri and Loid exchanged a glance before Loid smiled.

“He's a quick learner.”

"Loi-Loi is an okay teacher, I guess,” Yuri reluctantly added. “We made apple streusel. Do you remember Mom's apple cake?”

Yor inhaled, closing her eyes. The memory was fuzzy, but distinctly sweet, as if the taste of the cake remained. “Yeah. This smells really similar.”

“Yuri had the idea of adding cloves and cardamom,” Loid said. “It worked out quite nicely.”

“Yeah, it was my idea,” Yuri said proudly. Loid rolled his eyes but said nothing more on the subject. No wonder it smelled so familiar, Yor thought. She could hardly believe Yuri even remember the apple cake. Or that he'd shared enough about it with Loid that they were able to replicate some of it in the streusel.

Something warm and sweet  was filling up in Yor's chest. Was it the sugar in the air? She breathed it in, cheeks apple red and sore from how widely she was beaming, previous tiredness all but forgotten. She hadn't realized how much she'd subconsciously wanted Yuri to warm up to her family before. Her family. His family now, too. It didn't have to be just the two of them. 

“Ah—are you crying?!” Yor's eyes had gotten a little shiny, which naturally led to Yuri bursting out bawling. “I missed you toooo!”

The oven dinged and Loid pulled out the streusel as Yor joined them in the kitchen. As the adults got to chatting, Anya snuck around and victoriously stabbed a forkful of the piping dessert, blowing on it vigorously before chomping down. She grinned around her fork. 

 

Victory was sweet. 

#spy x family #spy x family fic #my fic #my writing #sxf #sxf fic #yuri briar #loid forger #twilight #agent twilight #sxf yuri #sxf loid #anya forger #sxf anya #yor forger #sxf yor #bond forger #sxf bond

[cicimunson]

New Year's (Conclusion to Christmas)

Author's note: Sorry loves, this is angsty and sweet, no smut this time! It's also a bit shorter, but I'm thinking about doing another part where Steve and the reader talk through the misunderstandings they've had?

Read Christmas first if you haven't read it yet!

Summary: It's New Year's Eve and the last thing Steve wants to do is party, especially since you left him on Christmas without saying goodbye. But Robin insists on dragging him out, and when you show up with a date, he realizes he needs to do something bold.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Female Reader, Robin Buckley, random oc Peter.

Warnings: Drinking, bit of angst, Steve is angry, fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Steve sighs, checking his hair in the mirror. “Robin, I’d really rather stay in tonight. We could make popcorn, watch a movie-”

“Absolutely not! It’s new year’s eve and we are not ringing in the new year watching another dumb action movie on your couch. I want to drink and dance and at least have a chance at kissing a pretty girl at midnight!” She bounces into the bathroom, tugging on Steve’s arm.

“Fine. But I’m leaving right after midnight, okay? Consider me your wingman until then.”

Steve drives the two of them to the party Robin had been gushing about all week, eyes flickering between watching the road and watching her talk excitedly, gesturing wildly with her hands.

He’d been moody for days, specifically since Christmas night when he woke up and you’d been gone. He’d checked the house for a note, but you were just gone. He’d seen you in town one time since then, and you had walked past him without even saying hello.

He felt used. There was no other word for it. Yes, he knew that the two of you weren’t a budding romance, not even fuck buddies, but you could have at least kissed him goodbye, at least pretended that the time you spent together those two days meant something.

Robin hadn’t helped, telling him that he was only upset because he was usually the one that does the ditching, which was true, but honestly, he thought you were nicer than he was. Maybe he was right the first time, you only saw him as a dumb jock.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, Robin ushering him inside to the party and getting them drinks. He watches as Robin greets people she knows, nursing his beer from afar. He nods at people he recognizes, trying to seem polite but not polite enough that anyone will try to strike up a conversation.

You walk into the room and it’s like he’s been punched in the gut.

His eyes feast on the sight of you, your short red skirt and silver top highlighting every curve you have. Your lips are the same shade of red as your skirt and he briefly pictures he dick stained with that pretty shade. Your heels, fuck your heels, he wants them digging into his ass while he’s inside you.

He discreetly adjusts himself, hoping he’s not staring too obviously. He watches as you glance around the room, briefly making eye contact with you before glancing away. When he looks back, he sees red again, but it’s not your lips or your skirt.

It’s anger. Some douche has walked in behind you, his hand on the small of your back as he whispers in your ear. You giggle and lean into him, looking happy with the attention he’s giving you.

A date. You have a date on New Year’s. You have someone to kiss at midnight.

Steve finishes his beer and hunts for Robin.

She’s on the dance floor, laughing with a group of friends. Steve takes her arm, bending down to shout over the music.

“I don’t know if I’m gonna stay till midnight.”

She frowns. “You promised! Come on, dance with me. It’ll make you feel better.”

He jerks his head across the room and Robin’s eyes follow, seeing you curled up close to your date. Her expression falls. “Shit. You okay?”

“I’m fine. I knew it wasn’t anything serious between us. I just feel like she’s rubbing it in my face, you know?”

“I doubt that’s her intention, Steve. She probably didn’t know you would be here.”

“Hey, whose side are you on?”

“Yours, always. But I think you’re reading into this.”

“I’m not. She’s always mocked me, this is just another way for her to do it. I ought to give her a piece of my mind.”

“I would not recommend that. Come on, Steve, have another drink, dance a little!” Robin bumps his hip with hers. “You gotta get out of this holiday funk.”

Steve nods but isn’t listening. He watches you kiss your date on the cheek before heading to the kitchen.

“Steve, Steven, don’t you-”

He takes off after you before Robin can finish her sentence.

Your POV

You pour yourself another drink, sighing. Why you’d agree to come to this party tonight, you had no idea. And why on Earth you’d agree to come with Peter was beyond you. Sure, he was cute, but he wasn’t your type at all. Ever since Steve had dismissed you on Christmas, you’d felt low.

You told yourself there was nothing wrong with getting a little male attention,even if it was from someone you didn’t even like.

You turn from the drink table and almost slam into a solid chest. “Shit, man, sorry.” You apologize.

“You should be.”

You jerk your head up. “Oh, Steve, hi.”

“Hi yourself.”

“How are you?” You try to keep your eyes from roaming over him. He’s in a tight red sweater that makes his eyes look warm and soft, snug jeans that you know encase his ass perfectly.

“I’m doing okay, thanks. You seem like you’re doing okay, too.” He fails to keep the sharpness out of his voice.

You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Merely an observation.”

“Okay, then.” You move past him, shaking your head.

“Eager to get back to your date?” He taunts.

You turn back to him. “What do you care?”

“Oh, I don’t. Just couldn't help but notice you draped all over him.You should probably get a room.”

“It’s just a bit of fun, Steve. That’s all I’m good for, remember?” You attempt to walk off, but Steve snags a hand around your arm, tugging you to him.

“Let go.” You snap.

“Kiss him at midnight and see what happens. I fucking dare you, Y/N.” He hisses, his other hand landing a slap on your ass. 

You flush as the sound echoes in the kitchen, people turning to see what caused it.

“Stop it. You have no right to be acting like a jealous boyfriend. You’re the one that said we’d had enough fun.”

He pauses. “That’s what got your panties in a twist?”

“Don’t think you have any effect on my panties.” You retort, but being this close to him, breathing in his aftershave is definitely having an effect on you. You fight the urge to lace your fingers through his hair and tug. You pull at your arm, knowing he isn’t going to let you go and knowing that you don’t want him to.

“Ditch him. Find me at midnight.”

 Your eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Go to hell.” You retort.

He squeezes your ass, then releases you, drifting into the crowd.

You realize you’ve been holding your breath the whole time, letting out a whoosh as you breathe deep. You make your way back to your date, trying not to think about Steve’s words.

Find him at midnight? Was he serious?

You realize Peter is talking but you haven’t heard a word he’s said. You smile and nod, trying to focus on what he’s saying.

Find me at midnight.

Find me at midnight.

“We’ve got a minute left!” Someone calls out, everyone cheering excitedly.

Peter grins down at you, his arm slipping around your waist.

Find me at midnight.

“I’m so glad you finally agreed to a date with me, you’re really sweet, you know that?”

“Oh, thank you.”

“I mean New Year’s is kind of a big event for a first date, but if-”

“Thirty seconds!”

Steve. I want Steve. 

You pull away from Peter. “You’re right, New Year’s is a lot of pressure for a first date.”

“But-”

You turn and rush into the crowd, searching for Steve’s red sweater.

“Twenty! Nineteen!”

Where the fuck is he?

You check around the dance floor, then look toward the kitchen.

Did he change his mind? Did he leave?

You turn and glance around the room rapidly, not seeing him anywhere.

“Ten! Nine!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You sigh. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe you aren’t meant to start your New Year with Steve. Maybe you aren’t meant to be with anyone right now. And hey, that’s okay, cause-

You yelp as two strong arms lift you from the floor, turning you.

“Three! Two! One! Happy new year!”

Steve’s mouth lands on yours and you slip your fingers into his hair, kissing him deeply. He drags the kiss out until you’re both breathless.

“Happy new year.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Happy new year.” You whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Tags: @freezaz123 @mxcheese @livsters @neewtmas @harrystylesandthegoobs @cancankiki @cal-is-not-on-branding

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington ff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n

[grigori77]

2023 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 1)

30.  SICK – the year’s first real horror cinema surprise was also one of its VERY FIRST standouts period, a brilliant little streaming sleeper from Peacock which snuck in under the radar but EFFORTLESSLY captured my attention AND the darker parts of my imagination.  Best of all, though, it was SO COOL to see legendary revisionist horror screenwriter Kevin Williamson return to the “big screen” again after spending so long plying his trade on TV – I was VERY MUCH the target audience for Scream when it came out, I just ATE UP his delicious post-modern deconstruction of the slasher genre and its subsequent follow-ups (although Robert Rodriguez’ The Faculty, his fantastic take on alien invasion movie tropes, remains my very favourite of Willaimson’s creations to date), even if it did lead to a fresh sub-genre which, paradoxically, became increasingly tired and toothless as the years progressed.  In the end, I think it’s probably A GOOD THING he took a step back – he just needed a chance to rethink things and find a fresh angle to come at the genre … and BY THE GODS has he ever found one with THIS.  Interestingly, for Williamson at least, the Pandemic couldn’t have come along at a better time, giving him fertile ground indeed in which to grow a particularly potent darkly comic slasher which EASILY lives up to his masterworks.  Taking place in the early days of the original outbreak, when the first Lockdown was just starting, infection alerts and self-isolation were only just becoming a major thing and everybody was PANICKING over how much they really DIDN’T yet know about what was REALLY going on, the setting was already ripe for some pretty intense, chaotic storytelling … so adding a brutal serial killer with a penchant for killing off the idiots who flagrantly flaunted the COVID safety restrictions and purposefully went out of their way to pretend things were the same as normal was a slick move.  The main bulk of the narrative revolves around three college kids in some nondescript part of the US – Parker (Blockers and The Society’s Gideon Adlon), a well-off party girl who’s looking to make some major changes in her life, and her best friend Miri (up-and coming R&B artist Beth Million), who go to Parker’s family’s expansive country home to quarantine in comfort, and Parker’s newly-EX boyfriend DJ (Man of Steel and Teen Wolf’s Dylan Sprayberry), who turns up ostensibly to try and patch things up between them but may simply have come for an opportunistic hook-up – who are targeted by a killer who subsequently hunts them during a night of fraught tension, smartly staged stalk-and-slash set-pieces and a hefty dose of Williamson’s characteristic jet black-but-enjoyably geeky sense of humour, which is this time pitched to a particularly sharp edge of biting finger-on-the-pulse satire given the rich socio-political real-life material he’s able to mine here.  The small but extremely potent cast are all BRILLIANT, although the film really is DOMINATED by Adlon, who once again shows that she’s destined for GREAT THINGS INDEED in the future with a brilliant turn that runs an impressive gamut from irresponsibly entitled brat to vitally determined survivor once circumstances have fully driven her to take proper responsibility for her childish behaviour, making for a compellingly sympathetic young heroine we find easy enough to root for.  It probably helps the man behind the camera is John Hyams (All Square, Alone), son of legendary genre-hopping director Peter Hyams, who shows he’s definitely inherited his dad’s impressive skill by crafting a lean, tight and precise slice of thrilling cinema which takes full advantage of a tight budget and (mostly) a single location, which results in a brilliant little comedy horror gem that I’d heartily recommend folk hunt down on streaming, or at the very least keep in mind for Halloween …

29.  HOW TO BLOW UP A PIPELINE – it’s always nice when a sharp little indie banger sneaks in under the radar to place on one of my lists for the year, and this impressive critically acclaimed underdog thriller definitely shaped up as one of the year’s most memorable examples.  It’s a very low-fi, gritty down-and-dirty procedural slice-of-life thriller about a motley collection of eco-terrorists banding together to sabotage an oil pipeline in West Texas, focusing almost entirely on this core group of disillusioned youths played by eight uniformly EXCEPTIONAL actors each handing in genuine (ahem) dynamite performances.  Ariele Barer (Marvel’s Runaways), The Revenant’s Forrest Goodluck, American Honey’s Sasha Lane and Marcus Scribner (probably best known as the voice of She-Ra & the Princesses of Power’s Bow) are the undeniable stand-outs here, but all of these kids are ON FIRE throughout, showing they’ve got truly BRIGHT futures ahead of them indeed, while Irene Bedard (Smoke Signals) also impresses in a supporting turn as Joanna, an FBI agent who may be onto their plans … the film bounces between the varying points of view amongst the characters, gradually unveiling their motivations to commit a morally complex terrorist act through a series of scattered flashbacks punctuating the planning, execution and aftermath of the bombing itself, with writer-director Daniel Goldhaber (Cam, here co-adapting Andreas Maim’s incendiary non-fiction novel with Ariele Barer herself and Cam’s co-writer Jordan Sjol) weaving a suitably taut and atmospheric slowburn path throughout the flawlessly executed narrative, the film brilliantly building its wire-taut tension to a rewardingly cathartic climax which is as provocative as the challenging subject matter.  This is a film that asks some VERY BIG QUESTIONS and delivers some suitably complicated and rightfully TROUBLING answers, a razor sharp piece of indie cinema which definitely deserves the critical acclaim and cult hit status it’s earned …

28.  COCAINE BEAR – gods, if EVER there was a true story that seemed TAILOR MADE for cinema, it’s the bizarre tale of Cokey the Bear, AKA Pablo Eskobear, an American black bear that died after ingesting 34 keys of cocaine that were dumped out of a smuggler’s cargo plane over the Tennessee wilderness in 1985.  That being said, it’s not a huge surprise it’s taken Hollywood SO LONG to actually get it made, perhaps it’s just TOO CRAZY a concept for it to have been made before now.  Ultimately, the film takes A LOT of liberties with the truth to instead craft an entertaining story, but in the end that’s definitely the smart move, simply using the concept as a springboard to craft a gloriously batshit horror comedy with a JET BLACK sense of humour populated by an offbeat collection of quirky characters.  Keri Russell stars as Sari, a nurse and single mother who has to brave the woods in order to find her young daughter Dee Dee (The Florida Project’s Brooklyn Prince), who’s playing hooky in the Chattahoochee-Oconee National Forest with her best friend Henry (Sweet Tooth’s Christian Convery) right when Cokey goes on her drug-fuelled homicidal rampage; meanwhile, recently bereaved widower Eddie (Solo’s Alden Ehrenreich) and his best friend Daveed (Straight Outta Compton’s O’Shea Jackson Jr.) are two drug cartel enforcers reluctantly scouring the area in search of their lost product at the behest of Eddie’s overbearing St Louis drug kingpin father Syd White (the late, great Ray Liotta, to whom the film is dedicated); and then there’s hapless but dogged Knoxville detective Bob (the venerable Isaiah Whitlock Jr.), who knows he can bust White if he can just get his hands on the evidence.  All three parties converge in the park while the bear wreaks merry havoc in Elizabeth Banks’ third film as a director (after Pitch Perfect 2 and the CRIMINALLY mistreated and overlooked Charlie’s Angels reboot), which looks like it might FINALLY get people to start taking her serious BEHIND the camera as well as IN FRONT of it – this is a proper laugh-riot of a film which is also delightfully non-PC, and it’s liberally peppered with impressively blood-soaked effects to thrill the gore-hounds as well as an impressively well-realised digital animal character in the eponymous drug-addled beastie.  The cast are brilliant too, Russell and Ehrenreich both particularly impressing in their respective nominal lead roles while the kids are EXCEPTIONAL (particularly Convery, getting to gleefully overact as one of the most hyperactive-yet-not-irritating kids I’ve ever seen on screen), and it’s both enriching and a little heartbreaking to watch Liotta once again act his socks off in one of his very last film roles; that being said, several of the scenes are thoroughly STOLEN by the irrepressible Margo Martindale, who’s clearly having the time of her life in one of her most gloriously OTT roles as foul-mouthed, much put-upon park Ranger Liz.  Ultimately this is a horror comedy where the balance is definitely tipped very much in favour of the laughs over the scares, but that’s fine, because with a concept this batshit bonkers we were always gonna find it too funny to ever be remotely scary, so the end result is one of THE FUNNIEST MOVIES I ran across in the cinema all year, rightfully revelling in its own inherent irreverence.  It’s just about the most fun you could ever expect it to be, which is just what you want from a movie about a cocaine bear, really …

27.  THE FLASH – oh boy … yeah, this one is gonna be a COMPLICATED talk.  This was one TROUBLED project from day one, from the major shake-ups surrounding the Joss Whedon-compromised Justice League film and the subsequent mess THAT unleashed, through the whole conflicting debate over Zack Snyder’s original vision for the DCEU, and then the eventual collapse of the Cinematic Universe itself, this film, originally entitled Flashpoint (which personally I like A WHOLE LOT more, actually, since it really does pay DIRECT reference to the actually storyline they went with) went through a whole collection of incarnations and reiterations and, for a while, it was starting to look like we might NEVER see it hit our cinema screens at all … and that’s without even mentioning star Ezra Miller’s ongoing legal troubles and essential CANCELLING after their continued outrageous, unacceptable off-set behaviour, which looked set to torpedo the film all on its own.  Honestly, I have to admit I was MYSELF a little wary going in, not because of these particular problems but more just the prospect of what I would actually do if, in spite of all this, I actually still LIKED IT … unfortunately for me, that was VERY MUCH the case, which is why we’re here in the first place. 

But I must forge on, and so I’m gonna just take this film on ITS OWN face value and ignore the external problems … at least until THE END of the review … because The Flash is, actually, pretty fucking GREAT.  Barry Allen (Miller) is finally coming into his own as a fully-fledged member of the Justic League, even if this does frequently mean he’s essentially cleaning up the extreme messes left behind when Batman/Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck) gets involved in particularly BIG potential world-shattering events, as brilliantly illustrated in the film’s suitably SPECTACULAR opening set-piece, which does a BEAUTIFUL job of not only letting us know EXACTLY what this incarnation of the Flash is actually capable of, but also revealing Barry’s own distinctly unique, offbeat and, frankly, really rather ADORABLE personal style of superheroism.  Then the plot itself kicks off when Barry’s father Henry (Ron Livingstone), serving life in prison for the wrongfully-convicted murder of Barry’s mother Nora (Pan’s Labyrinth’s wonderful Maribel Verdu), sees his latest (and, it looks like, FINAL) appeal fall flat due to a crucial new piece of evidence turning out to be useless, and Barry decides he's had enough of ignoring a particularly potent aspect of his superpowers –

the ability to run SO FAST that he can actually GO BACK IN TIME!!!  So he races back to the day of his mother’s death and tweaks circumstances so that she survives, only for Barry to then get punted off track before he can return to the present by an unknown entity within “the Speedforce” which then lands him in 2013, just days before Earth’s invasion by the hostile Kryptonian forces of General Zod (Michael Shannon), as seen in Man of Steel.  Still with us so far?  Yeah, well it gets EVEN MORE complicated, cuz it turns out that, while his mum is now STILL ALIVE, Barry hasn’t got his powers in this universe, which means that he has to reform the Justice League himself in THIS timeline in order to defeat Zod.  Except that there are FAR MORE consequences to messing with time than Barry ever took into account set to make things all but insurmountably complicated for him to succeed … beyond this we’re getting into DANGEROUS spoiler territory, beyond the fact that these new developments give rise to whole fresh and very complicated ideas of alternative universes somewhat akin to what the MCU’s already started experimenting with (which is also, actually, something that the DC comics universe does ALL THE BLOODY TIME), which gives rise to whole new incarnations of beloved characters from the established DCEU, some of which HAVE already been revealed in the trailers and beyond, but others not so much, so … yeah, anyway, it’s a glorious MESS of a narrative, but somehow this film does a REALLY IMPRESSIVE job of navigating this jumble in an impressively coherent and breezy way that ultimately makes this a whole lot of fun to watch, actually.  Of course, the lion’s share of the praise for this HAS TO go to screenwriter Christina Hodson (Birds of Prey & the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) for wrangling the UNHOLY MESS of development done for the previous incarnations into an actual WORKING script, which was then brought to life with suitably brave and adventurous SKILL by director Andy Muschietti (Mama and It Chapter One and Two), but the uniformly EXCEPTIONAL cast shoulder a good deal of that responsibility too –

Miller may be problematic in real life, but there can be no denying that he is FUCKING BRILLIANT in his signature role, crafting a hyperactive, ultra-awkward social misfit of a superhero that us various underdog kids just can’t help rooting for, while it is a MASSIVE pleasure to get to see MY PERSONAL FAVOURITE Batman return as this AU’s altered version of Bruce Wayne, the legendary Michael Keaton himself again proving why he really is THE VERY BEST VERSION of the character out there (and I will accept NO ARGUMENT AT ALL about that, I swear you can all FIGHT ME on this particular hill upon which I am determined to DIE if I must), and Livingstone and Verdu bring an IMMENSE amount of pathos to their characters throughout which makes it ABUNDANTLY CLEAR why Barry tries SO HARD to save them both, and it’s also great fun getting to see Michael Shannon back as the Big Bad here again, I always really liked this spectacular scenery-chewing version of Zod.  For me, though, the biggest win here has to be The Young & the Restless’ Sasha Calle, making her big screen debut as the most impressive and DCEU-consistent incarnation of Kara Zor-El, aka SUPERGIRL, that we could ever have hoped for, she’s a truly AWESOME creation, EASILY as badass as Henry Cavill’s Supes but also a good deal more complex as a character too.  Ultimately it’s a shame that circumstances mean that we likely won’t get to see more of her in future projects, much like Keaton’s returning Batman, as they’re definitely the unexpected heart and soul of the film, easily delivering in the most impressively iconic set-pieces and memorable character beats.  Indeed, this is SO BLOODY BRILLIANT all round as a film – from its spectacular action sequences, through its frequent gleefully anarchic screwball humour, to a variety of impressive jaw-dropping game-changer twists in the narrative – that the fact that the DCEU itself is officially over and all of this means PRECISELY ZERO in the face of where it’s all going in James Gunn’s incoming Cinematic Universe reboot makes this feel all the more ultimately pointless, which lends any viewing a bittersweet aftertaste no matter HOW enjoyable it all is.  I mean granted, it’s NOT perfect (there is, famously, some pretty clunky CGI that ALMOST takes you out of the experience, especially in the climactic sequence when we see the timelines start to collide), but then very few of the DCEU movies HAVE BEEN anyway, and this one still works just fine for what it is.  So it may not have any actual VALUE for the series moving forward, but it’s still a really great movie that MORE THAN deserves to be seen for its own merits, and I highly recommend you give it a chance anyway.  At least Gunn and co have seen the sense to keep Muschietti onboard for their reboot (namely helming the new DCU’s Batman reboot The Brave & the Bold), and if they’ve any more sense they’ll bring Christina Hodson back for more too …

26.  THE EQUALIZER 3 – Director Antoine Fuqua and Denzel Washington have had a long and extremely fruitful working relationship, from their earliest collaboration on his best-known film, Training Day (which finally landed Washington his long-overdue best actor Oscar, although many of us agree that it SHOULD have gone to him a few years prior for The Hurricane), through the EXTREMELY impressive remake of the classic western The Magnificent Seven, to their most lucrative and long-running collab to date, a series of feature adaptations of a cult classic TV thriller show from the 80s which has now reached its THIRD instalment and STILL seems to be running at full steam with no sign of flagging.  Indeed, this just might be THE BEST ONE YET … Washington once again effortlessly delivers a coolly sophisticated, often understated but still typically deeply nuanced turn as Robert McCall, the former special-forces soldier turned SOCOM operative who reemerged from self-imposed faked-death-retirement in the first film in order to deliver bloody retribution for the brutal assault of a young girl, only to subsequently find a new calling as a freelance guardian angel for the weak and powerless who have nowhere else to turn with a dangerous problem.  This time round his antiheroic adventures has brought him to Italy, where the ill-fated end of his latest operation sees him near death from a bullet in his back, being nursed back to health in the remote coastal town of Altamonte.  It’s here that he finally finds that true peace that’s so long eluded him as he recovers from his injuries, but he finds himself ultimately dragged back into the fray when a

Camorra crime outfit from Naples, looking to expand their operation to new territories, starts trying to exploit the townsfolk that Robert has grown so close to beyond their breaking point … ultimately this is a more slowburn, understated affair than the previous two films, but that actually proves to be this instalment’s greatest strength, allowing us to get closer to our Equalizer than ever before, as well as the people he’s driven to help, which makes this BY FAR the most emotionally investing film in the trilogy, and makes us root for Robert like never before as we wait for him to FINALLY bring the pain to these Mafioso thugs.  That dam-break, when they finally come, is as viscerally intense as we’ve come to expect from the series, but thanks to the additional groundwork this time round the kills and cathartic payback delivered feel more satisfyingly substantial, while the film’s greatest pleasures ultimately lie more in the anticipation as Fuqua cranks the tension tighter and we edge further forward in our seats.  Once again, the supporting cast all shine through, with Andrea Scarduzio (Colour On the Cross) giving great bad guy as subtly reptilian Mob boss Vincent Quaranta, ably backed up by Andrea Dodero (Thou Shalt Not Hate) as Vincent’s vicious, jumped up thug of a little brother Marco, while Gaia Scodellaro (CentroVetrine) and Eugenio Mastrandeo (From Scratch) deftly show us what’s so worth fighting for in this town as effervescently friendly local café owner Aminah and Altamonte’s principled but pragmatically fair sole Carabinieri Gio Bonucci; the biggest standout, however, is Dakota Fanning as Emma Collins, the smart and dogged FBI agent who ends up tracking Robert down following his involvement in the opening showdown and uncovers a whole nest of previous overlooked criminal chaos.  At the end of the day though, this is ONCE AGAIN every inch Washington’s film, the erstwhile star clearly enjoying himself immensely in one of the best and most iconic

roles of his career, although this third instalment looks like it might be the last Equalizer with him in the lead since it becomes abundantly clear that it’s looking to wind things up for Robet’s final adventure in a suitably satisfying way.  That being said, there’s definitely room, interest and clear demand for more from both the fanbase AND the creatives here, with the pervading theory being that we may be going back to the early days of McCall’s time with the CIA, in which case the obvious choice moving forward would be to let John David Washington step into his dad’s shoes as young Robert.  In truth it’s the only smart choice …

25.  ANT-MAN & THE WASP: QUANTUMANIA – coming off the back of 2022’s decidedly hit-and-miss big screen slate for Disney and Marvel’s current flagship property, the Marvel Cinematic Universe, THIS past year’s first MCU release had A LOT of eyes on it.  Gods know, I definitely had TWO OF ‘EM … and it probably wasn’t the best title to be laying all this weight on, either – the Ant-Man movies in particular have always been a bit of a marmite property within the larger universe, with as many detractors as fans, which definitely didn’t help things here.  If this turned out to be third time unlucky for Paul Rudd’s Scott Lang and the rest, it could spell much larger disaster for the MCU overall, or at the very least signify that the cracks are definitely growing beyond the studios’ capacity to patch ‘em up on the run.  So I’ll admit, I went into this one with a whole lot of trepidation … was it unwarranted?  Well, being completely honest … not ENTIRELY.  Tried-and-tested comedy director Peyton Reed’s Ant-Man films have always been a pretty mad collection anyway, as much a full-blown comedy sub-franchise as the Guardians of the Galaxy movies or Thor under Taika Waititi, but even so they still managed to keep ONE FOOT on the ground even while the rest was set EXTENSIVELY in the Quantum Realm, but this one has somewhat jumped the shark.  Granted, part of this film’s particular OTT outlandishness and unabashed WACKINESS is down to narrative necessity – giving too much away plot-wise unfortunately runs the risk of dropping some MASSIVE spoilers, but it’s at least safe to say that the lion’s share of the story takes place ENTIRELY in the Quantum Realm this time, and it’s a place which is A WHOLE LOT DIFFERENT from anything we might have imagined from our very brief visits in Ant-Man & the Wasp and Avengers: Endgame.  For a start, it’s A WHOLE LOT BIGGER than we thought it was, and MUCH more heavily populated by some truly WEIRD SHIT … the film also has some major heavy-lifting to do with regards to setting up the Big Bad for Phase 5 and 6 both – Kang the Conqueror (The Last Black Man In San Francisco and Creed III’s Jonathan Majors), a Multiverse-based Thanos level threat we first encountered (sort of) in 2021’s runaway hit first season of Loki.  This at least is one of the areas in which the movie definitely SUCCEEDED – ultimately problematic as he may have become since the film’s release, Majors at least did a commendable job of establishing one of the franchise’s most interesting and effective supervillains, a near God Tier Bad Guy who’s clearly gonna give the whole Avengers roster a run for their money when they finally come face to face with him (in whatever recast form he ultimately takes).  The plot, such as it is, is pure scrambled bananas, a heavyweight mindfuck it’s best to just DISENGAGE the brain to go with in order to get proper enjoyment

out of – this is definitely a cinematic GUILTY PLEASURE, and trying to take it even remotely seriously immediately draws the eye to a thousand gaping plot-holes and glaring narrative stumbles.  At least the patented stunning, primary coloured visuals, winning sense of humour and cavalcade of delightfully wacky set-pieces (the clone-spawning “probability explosion” sequence is a particularly overblown, super-trippy highlight with an unexpected tear-jerk factor built in) are all fully functional and behaving correctly, and the thoroughly endearing cast all deliver admirably with nary an off-note hint of miscasting – Rudd and Evangeline Lilly (returning as Hope van Dyne AKA the titular Wasp) are both still pitch perfect, while it’s nice to see Michael Douglas and PARTICULARLY Michelle Pfeiffer getting to do a whole lot more this time round as Hank Pym and Janet van Dyne, and the glaring Michael Pena-shaped hole is ALMOST filled by a few other quality comedic turns from the likes of deadpan laugh-MASTER Bill Murray and David Dastmalchian (here returning in a VERY interesting but also very DIFFERENT role to what we’ve seen from him here before), as well as a surprise returning face (ahem) from this trilogy’s past.  Meanwhile, alongside Majors there are other similarly noteworthy series newcomers who make BIG IMPRESSIONS, from Z Nation and The Mandalorian’s Katy O’Brien (who’s been a growing favourite of mine for a little while now), who’s a completely EPIC badass I wanna see A LOT more of in the future as hard-nosed Quantum freedom fighter Jentorra, to Kathryn Newton (Supernatural, Freaky), making the role of Scott’s now (pretty much) full-grown daughter Cassie ENTIRELY her own, and she’s clearly got a MAJOR future ahead of her in the MCU herself now she’s started carving out her own super-powered secret identity (roll on Young Avengers, I say!).  The movie may be another flawed, somewhat unwieldy and occasionally downright CLUNKY beast, but the franchise is still managing to stand up where it counts, and compared to the likes of Thor: Love & Thunder and Black Panther: Wakanda Forever it definitely holds up a good deal better in its own right.  Most of all, though, it’s A WHOLE LOT of pure, unadulterated FUN, which is ultimately exactly what you want from a big primary-coloured superhero blockbuster.  In the end, it still remains to be seen if the MCU can be clawed back from the brink it’s still teetering perilously on the edge of, but despite all that’s still wrong with it, this is at least a VERY SMALL step back in the right direction …

24.  THE PALE BLUE EYE – largely sneaking in under the radar on Netflix to start the New Year off, the latest offering from highly acclaimed indie writer-director Scott Cooper (Crazy Heart, Black Mass, Antlers) is, much as we’d likely expect from such a consistently varied, genre-hopping filmmaker, a strange, unique and deeply intriguing beast of a film.  Adapted from Louis Bayard’s well-received speculative fiction novel about a young Edgar Allan Poe aiding the investigation of a bafflingly macabre murder in the US Military Academy at West Point in the early 1830s.  Christian Bale returns with typical stoic, intense and magnificently brooding megawatt presence for his THIRD leading man tour of duty for Cooper (after Out of the Furnace and Hostiles) as Augustus Landor, a former West Point graduate-turned misanthropic former detective brought in to lead the investigation into the brutal hanging and evisceration (with additional heart-removal) of a young cadet that’s baffling the faculty and local police, which is soon compounded when additional bodies start piling up.  He’s aided in his endeavours by another cadet, the young Poe himself (played to PERFECTION by Harry Potter’s own Harry Melling, continuing his meteoric and deeply impressive rise to prominence with another TOUR-DE-FORCE performance here), while the clues lead to a variety of deeply troubling twists and revelations as well as an intriguing collection of suitably odd and often highly charismatic characters played by the sterling likes of Lucy Boynton, Toby Jones, Simon McBurney and a fascinatingly unusual turn from Robert Duvall, although the real standout here is a truly MAGNIFICENT career-best performance from Gillian Anderson.  Cooper piles on the story’s doom-laden gothic atmosphere to great effect throughout while cranking up the slowburn and deeply uncomfortable suspenseful tension throughout, while the plot is nothing short of MACHIAVELLIAN in its levels of ingenious labyrinthine intelligence, dropping an ultimate denouement that you really have to be paying SERIOUS ATTENTION to see coming, and the production design, costumes, period detail and, most of all, the thoroughly MOODY bleak-midwinter cinematography make for a freezing cold but thoroughly rewarding feast for the eyes for the most discerning film-fanatic.  Altogether Cooper’s delivered another winner, and I hope he continues to make films this good well into the future.

23.  DOOR MOUSE – Avan Jogia may be best known as an actor in fare like Caprica, Zombieland: Double Tap and Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City, but his debut feature as a writer-director definitely shows he’s got a lot of potential as a genuine filmmaking talent moving forward.  This is an edgy, offbeat and enjoyably quirky little indie oddity that CLEARLY doesn’t care to play by anyone’s conventional rules, telling its unapologetically DARK and dirty little story the way IT WANTS TO without ever trying to spell its message out for the viewer.  Riverdale’s Hayley Law is, as ever, simply MESMERISING as Mouse, a tough, hard-bitten burlesque dancer looking to make a better life for herself as a comic book creator, only for fate to throw a wrench in the works for her when girls at her club start disappearing under mysterious circumstances.  Her resulting investigation leads to the shocking realisation that they’re being kidnapped into a life of sexual slavery, and it looks like she’s going to have to make a bold and very dangerous choice in order to effect a rescue … as always, Law simply OWNS the screen, powering the story along with equal parts guarded bravado and well-hidden wounded vulnerability, and she’s ably supported by the likes of Keith Powers (Straight Outta Compton) as Mouse’s best friend Ugly, the club’s unassuming but VERY capable bouncer, the great Famke Janssen as Mama, the club’s owner and Mouse’s laconic mother figure, and Jogia himself as her ex-boyfriend, local drug-dealing hood Mooney.  The plot twists and turns with suitably pulpy skill while Mouse’s comic book bleeds into the narrative through striking imagery and quirky little animated episodes, while the film tackles big, dark themes with an unflinching eye and refuses to deliver easy answers, particularly in the cathartic but suitably JET BLACK ending.  This is a hell of a debut for a promising new filmmaking talent, then, and I’d LOVE to spend some more time with Mouse herself if Jogia and Law are willing …

22.  SHAZAM: FURY OF THE GODS – it’s interesting that, at least on here, the DC Cinematic Universe (AKA the DCEU) has managed to stand up so well this past year, especially given the recent MAJOR upheavals that have rocked the franchise as a whole.  Not least because said Universe is essentially about to get hit with a Hard Reset under the guidance of new DC Studios CEO James Gunn, so none of this even MATTERS any more going forward … certainly this fact has NOT been lost on cinemagoers, who were already starting to pull away when Black Adam came out in late 2022 and subsequently seemed content to STAY away IN DROVES for this one, likely waiting to give it a go in the privacy and safety of their own homes once it hit streaming.  In a way this sounded a pre-emptive death knell for the DCEU which I was genuinely sceptical about it recovering from … which is a shame, because 2019’s Shazam! was one of the franchise’s BEST FEATURES, a gleefully anarchic post-modern deconstruction of the overblown superhero antics the franchise largely glorified before while never taking itself particularly seriously but simply playing itself with just the right amount of knowing wink-and-nod.  Even more of a shame, then, that this follow-up has proven to be SUCH a performance TURKEY, because it’s JUST AS GOOD as the first one, taking all the lessons learned from the first movie to heart and delivering more of everything that really WORKED once again while trying something new and fresh to expand on this little corner of the Universe with impressive aplomb and consummate skill. 

Returning director David F. Sandberg (Lights Out) once again delivers in HIGH STYLE and customary spooky flair as he and returning screenwriter Henry Gayden (Earth To Echo, There’s Someone In Your House), along with Fast & Furious franchise lynchpin scribe Chris Morgan, expand on the adventures of coming-of-age young hero Billy Batson (Andi Mack’s Asher Angel) and his (still unnamed) superpowered alter ego (Zachary Levi), alongside his now similarly gifted teenaged foster siblings, as the Daughters of Atlas – Hespera (Helen Mirren), Kalypso (Lucy Liu) and Anthea (Rachel Zegler), a trio of immensely powerful but (somewhat) morally dubious classical Greek goddesses – come to claim their powers for their own in order to rejuvenate the Tree of Life and punish Mankind for its wickedness.  The usual existential high stakes, then.  Angel and Levi are, once again, ON FIRE here, the former star of Chuck in particular once again proving what an undisputable comedic MASTER he is while they both deliver MAGNIFICENTLY in the dramatic moments too, while their returning co-stars and sterling veteran support are once again just as great as before, It’s Jack Dylan Grazer particularly getting to really SHINE this time round in a particularly WEIGHTY role that nonetheless once again manages to utilise his own impressive comedic talents to full effect too, while it’s also GREAT to see This Is Us’ Faith Herman get a much more expanded role this time round as the irrepressible Darla; Djimon Hounsou, meanwhile, also gets a lot more to do as he returns as the enjoyably crabby and pompous Wizard Shazam, who’s none too happy with Billy for breaking the staff last time round and setting this all off in the first place.  The Daughters, meanwhile, are FANTASTIC antagonists, Liu and Mirren clearly enjoying the opportunity to be flamboyant, majestic and over-the-top in proper Shakespearean

style, while Zegler invests “Anne” with a good deal more moral fibre and complexity as the most sympathetic (and ultimately conflicted) of the trio.  Sandberg and co again deliver IN SPADES on the action, atmospherics, gorgeously exotic design and sheer creativity which made the first movie such an unexpected treat, while also delivering more of that winning, sometimes downright SCREWBALL BONKERS humour to keep it entertaining and let you know that, just like its predecessor, this film knows FULL WELL how ridiculous it is and is fully prepared to just OWN IT.  The end result is, ultimately, one of the best of the closing slate of DCEU films, which just makes it even sadder to think that they probably won’t continue the story once the franchise reboots.

21.  GODZILLA MINUS ONE – as much as I LOVE the new efforts of Warner Bros’ impressively robust Monsterverse Expanded Universe to bring the greatest big screen kaiju of them all to life, I am not even REMOTELY surprised that it took a Japanese writer-director to truly get right down to the heart of the character with what feels like the truest, most respectful and, quite simply, VERY BEST big screen reworking of the classic original to date.  Mostly I just count myself lucky I was able to find a showing at my local cinema that I could actually get to – this is definitely one of those features that really does DESERVE to be seen on the BIG screen.  Writer-director Takashi Yamazaki certainly has an impressive track record, having helmed the likes of Space Battleship Yamato, The Great War of Archimedes and Lupin III: The First, but even so, this came somewhat out of the blue to not only become a MASSIVE, runaway hit in Japan but also in foreign markets, particularly blowing away western audiences who are universally praising it as one of THE greatest movies of this decade so far.  All right … from a purely critical point of view, I may not quite think THAT about this, but this IS an EXTREMELY GOOD FILM, Yamazaki guiding an impressively game cast and clearly deeply committed crew to create a work of rare emotional power and uplifting intensity that tells a breathless tale of the unbreakable power of the human spirit even in the face of HORRIFIC cataclysmic events … a theme which has, of course, remained close to the hearts of the Japanese ever since Hiroshima and Nagasaki, which famously directly informed Ishiro Honda’s beloved original.  This time round, Godzilla is a pure, monstrous and thoroughly TERRIFYING force of nature throughout the film, a devastating and unstoppable mutated aberration created by the fallout of America’s H-bombs, which is unleashing unfathomable chaos across post-World War II Japan, leading a band of desperate civilians to take matters into their own hands and attempt a desperate stand to stop the horror before all is lost.  Ryunosuke Kamiki (probably best known for his years of work as one of Studio Ghibli’s key voice actors) proves a compellingly fallible hero as deeply traumatised failed kamikaze pilot Koichi Shikishima, who finds himself battling internal demons even worse than the monster he’s up against in the real world, ably supported by Minami Hanabe (The Great War of Archimedes) as Noriko, the spirited young adoptive mother that Koichi takes in after returning from the war and forms a tight bond with, Hidetaka Yoshiaki (Always: Sunset On Third Street) as Professor Kenji Noda, the former Naval weapons engineer who becomes Koichi’s mentor, and Munetaka Aoki (Rurouni Kenshin) as Sosaku Tachibana, a former Naval fighter mechanic suffering from his own deep-seated traumas after the War.  This is an interesting departure from the classic Kaiju cinema recipe, because while the Big G is definitely a powerful and potent threat that casts a very BIG shadow over events here, Minus One is ultimately less of a monster movie than a movie with a monster IN IT, Yamazaki preferring to focus on the human story and concentrate our attention on the horrors these people have to endure at the unfathomably massive claws of this terrible creature, certainly physical but predominantly mental and emotional.  That’s not to say it ain’t suitably potent in the action stakes, EASILY delivering some suitably THRILLING set-pieces while the creature himself and the chaos he unleashes is portrayed with impressively executed visual effects flair … it’s just that, ultimately, this is a film which is much more of a triumph of GREAT WRITING, peerless direction and awards-worthy performances from an astonishing cast.  In other words, it’s just a really GREAT FILM, period.  Which makes this something TRULY SPECIAL after all, I guess …

#2023 in movies #sick #sick movie #how to blow up a pipeline #cocaine bear #the flash #the equalizer 3 #ant man and the wasp quantumania #the pale blue eye #door mouse #door mouse movie #shazam fury of the gods #godzilla minus one

[themculibrary]

Fics Written In 2021 Masterlist

and the river flows beneath your skin (ao3) - Deisderium steve/bucky E, 114k

Summary: In which Steve and Bucky are forced to room together their senior year at boarding school, and accidentally soul bond to each other even though they kind of hate each other. All they have to do to get out of it is not kiss each other for a year so the accidental bond will fade. How hard could it be?

A Tattoo of Parker Luck (ao3) - maroonweb harley/peter T, 5k

Summary: Guests started looking over at the commotion, when one of them walked over to get a better look.

Penny's eyes met Tony Stark's and she flushed when he looked over the mess they'd made. His disdainful gaze settled on her tattooed arm and he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

She knew Tony would never be able to pick her out of a crowd, but to have him think of her so negatively upon their first meeting hurt more than she ever could have imagined.

AKA Penny Parker gets a tattoo that seems to embody Parker Luck.

Borough of Manhattan Community College (ao3) - Kat_Greenleaf steve/tony M, 11k

Summary: Steve Rogers had joined the Borough of Manhattan Community College’s wellness department at the beginning of the year, which Tony would have never known, except he kept bumping into him in the break room. The first week, after they bumped into each other for the first time and Steve shyly introduced himself, Tony hopped onto the interwebs to see if he could figure out this guy’s deal. Homemade, 80s-style, aerobic workout videos were not at all what Tony had been expecting.

Regardless, they simultaneously fueled the crush Tony had developed, and made it a million times more impossible to look Steve in the eye at work. Which was a problem. Because Steve had been trying to ask Tony on a date for weeks with no success, and it was becoming quite frustrating.

'Cause I found someone to carry me home (ao3) - kalika_999 jack/brock M, 10k

Summary: Brock's perfect for him, maybe a little too perfect.

Chemistry (ao3) - deadto27 steve/bucky E, 49k

Summary: Bucky Barnes just wanted a good one-night stand. It didn't even have to be great, though he'd had high hopes hot Steve would be fantastic.

He's hugely disappointed.

And Steve seems to really like him, so now he's stuck trying to let him down gently and hoping he never sees him again. Of course, the universe has other plans.

-----

But it’s okay, he thinks, trying to convince himself, as Steve plants a kiss to his cheek and tells him to sleep well, flicking off the lamp. It’s nice to be cuddled sometimes—Bucky basically never gets cuddled—and the bed’s pretty comfy. He’ll just leave in the morning. No big deal. They may have died a sexual death, but Steve’s a sweetheart regardless and Bucky can’t bring himself to be an asshole.

This is just more polite.

Debut And (Minor) Fall (ao3) - ElisaPhoenix cassie/peter T, 2k

Summary: Cassie gets to put her training to the test.

for better or for worse (ao3) - earliebirb steve/tony T, 5k

Summary: Sitting quietly like this, Tony can almost pretend that nothing has happened, that this is just another normal day of Steve waking up in bed next to him. Married and in love with no threat of divorce looming on the horizon.

Of course, that is before he catches sight of Steve’s bereft ring finger.

He wonders how long it has been since Steve’s ring finger is empty.

He wonders if he should start taking off his own, too. He wonders if Steve wants him to take it off.

if i'm dreaming baby (please don't wake me up) (ao3) - Pandemic steve/tony E, 12k

Summary: “What?” Is all Steve can answer before Tony darts round the desk with speed, landing in Steve’s lap. He reaches out with his hands to steady him, and is rewarded with a handful of Anthony Stark’s ass. He is currently holding the ass of a man who features as an answer on Wheel of Fortune. This cannot possibly be his life.

Or the Fake Boyfriends AU.

just know you're not alone (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor tony/sam T, 10k

Summary: Tony was settling into his new life being an Avenger. Everything was going fine, great even, and then suddenly a kid was thrown into the picture. Peter Parker becomes Tony’s world, and he’s doing everything he can to keep his son out of the spotlight. Unfortunately, some things don’t always go to plan. But would it really be such a bad thing if his fellow Avengers found out about his son?

Kidnapping (TM) (ao3) - GoringWriting phil/tony T, 3k

Summary: Coulson knows he has feelings for Tony. But he can't seem to tell the other man that, afraid he will be rejected. However, a kidnapping might be just the motivation he needs to confess his feelings to the man he loves.

like a heartbeat drives you mad (ao3) - Lies_Unfurl E, 7k

Summary: The future is a lonely place, and Steve sure could use a friend. Luckily, Rumlow shows up to listen to him, guide him, and teach him how to relax.

He's grateful for that. He really is. Right?

love me with your sad eyes, drain me of my color (ao3) - voxofthevoid steve/bucky E, 13k

Summary: Cohabitation is now trial and error. Some days, Bucky tries to console himself by thinking that it was much the same back when Steve moved in with him after Sarah passed. But he knows that was different. The anger had no real bite. Steve’s harsh diatribes were always aimed at his perceived weaknesses rather than Bucky’s clumsy attempts to be sweet on him.

God help him, he misses that firecracker kid, his bones held together with spite, and he misses the brave monster who walked into hell to pull Bucky out of it.

And that’s just it, isn’t it? Steve pulled Bucky out of hell, but the stories all say it comes with a price. Steve paid with his life, his soul, and he was a ghost for seventy years and now he’s a wraith, and Bucky wants so badly to breathe him to life, but he doesn’t know how.

“You haven’t tried to kill me in weeks,” Bucky manages to say, and god, is that his voice? He sounds worn and old, like he’s really in his nineties. He swallows and tries to be stronger. “So yeah, Steve. A reason would be nice.”

- After Insight, after Hydra, Steve and Bucky are a work in progress.

Never Packed a Parachute to Lover’s Leap (ao3) - Paraprosdokia (ChangeableConsistency) clint/phil E, 8k

Summary: Phil goes into an unexpected rut.

Extremely unexpected considering Clint’s been under the mistaken impression that Phil has been a beta this whole time.

Not Who They Made Us (ao3) - himynameisv T, 3k

Summary: Gamora's world is falling apart right in front of her eyes; she doesn't know what to do.

tear these old walls down (ao3) - susiecarter steve/tony T, 57k

Summary: Steve didn't like Tony Stark.

Stark probably didn't like Steve, either. They'd gotten off on the wrong foot, and that was putting it mildly.

And having to pretend to be a civilian Stark was dating, as cover for trying to save Stark's life while Iron Man was busy with a SHIELD mission, obviously wasn't going to help.

the secrets that we keep (ao3) - haveufoundwhaturlookingfor ned/peter T, 10k

Summary: In which Clint has never told any of the Avengers, not even Natasha, about his son Peter. His sister Laura is the only person he’s ever told, trusted. Clint has only ever wanted to protect his son, to keep him safe from harm. But, when the accords come around, things get a little complicated. And Clint finds out that he’s not the only one keeping secrets.

wake me up in the morning (ao3) - mybelovedagnes leo/jemma G, 3k

Summary: the fitzsimmons family + mornings

who doesn’t want to live with the brisk motor of his heart singing (ao3) - AuroraWest, Nonexistenz loki/stephen M, 6k

Summary: People thought being a prince was romantic. They definitely, definitely weren't thinking of being a Prince of New Asgard. Nevertheless, there's still some romance to be found at New Asgard's Midsummer Feast.

worth the wait (ao3) - complicationstoo bucky/tony, background steve/sam T, 5k

Summary: Tony and Bucky keep trying to have their first date, but are met with constant interruptions. It takes them six tries and a broken elevator to finally get there.

you and me, forevermore (ao3) - orphan_account phil/melinda M, 2k

Summary: Five times Melinda May celebrates New Years'.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #2021fics #2021fics masterlist #masterlists

[thisbuildingshouldbecondemned]

The Exception: Chapter 8

A/N: i know i took a million years finishing this chapter, and in my mind the fic is not over but i can't guarantee consistent posting with a lot of life things that have happened in the past few months. but ! inspiration struck and i wanted to get back into posting on this blog so here <3

tags: [#the exception on my blog] egon spengler x reader / slowburn / ghostbusters / fluff / angst / paranormal romance / fem reader

word count: 1361 | ~10min read

“Are you able to leave the building?”

“Do you have ghost powers?”

“Did you have any pets?”

Slowly, y/n was starting to grow tired of the questions. She knew the boys were just excited to have a pleasant entity to speak with but the more they asked the less they thought about the actual words they were saying. Some of the questions reminded y/n of her life, specifically the things she missed, and others were starting to make her feel like a guinea pig, which was something she talked with Egon about avoiding.

Egon, who was on the outside of the circle arguing with himself about whether or not he should leave so he could have some alone time with his thoughts, caught a slightly panicked look from y/n, which he seized as an opportunity to shut down the situation.

“Alright! Alright,” he shouted over the group, thankfully grabbing everyone’s attention. Or rather everyone except Ray, who was babbling on about his theories for location-locked spirits. Peter gently tapped him on the shoulder and he slowly turned around.

“Oh! Sorry, Spengler,” Ray apologized. He, Peter, and Winston alternated between looking around the room and making awkward eye contact with Egon, who hadn’t really planned what he was going to say. He just knew that he needed to provide a moment of silence for y/n.

“Ahem,” Egon cleared his throat, buying himself an extra second to think. “Right, well, I believe it’s very apparent that Miss y/n here has had plenty of excitement for tonight, but is far too polite to excuse herself. Am I correct in assuming this?” Egon asked y/n, who donned a bashful expression as everyone in the room turned to look at her once more.

“Well, I’d hate to ruin the fun, but all of these questions are starting to become… overwhelming.” she stated, with a touch of shame in her voice. Immediately, apologies and offers for places to rest were flooding out of the Ghostbusters mouths. As they brought her to a recliner in the corner of the room and wished her good night, each left to do their own thing somewhere else.

Dr. Spengler, who could barely manage to get a single word out during the commotion, was left standing in the centre of the room, staring at y/n. She looked up to him as he opened his mouth to speak, and watched with disappointment as he closed it once more and turned away, exiting the room.

Y/N was left alone in the chair, still reeling from the night’s events. Her mind felt simultaneously overcrowded yet blank as she recounted the incidents over and over. While she felt relieved that the rest of the Ghostbusters seemed more than happy to coexist with her, a small part of her mourned the secret relationship she had had with Egon. And what to do about him, she wondered.

Y/N felt somewhat conflicted about Egon. Had she been too harsh earlier? She was starting to feel guilty about lashing out at him, especially considering not 10 minutes later did he get into a second argument with his closest friends over her. No, she concluded. It was unfair of him to kiss me when I was vulnerable with him and try to pretend like it didn’t happen. However, she couldn’t ignore that it had been the most incredible feeling she’d ever experienced. 

Egon was back in his lab, pacing the floor and lost in his thoughts as well. He felt like a child for getting so flustered at the notion of y/n receiving attention from the other Ghostbusters, even after he decided pursuing his interest toward her was illogical and therefore could not continue.

For the second time he found himself acting out of line because of y/n. And not just any metaphorical line, but his own by which he lived and breathed his entire life. He had based his continuance on repetition and result based analysis, and a relationship beyond casual kindness with y/n could not work in any of the realities that played out in his head. Even so, he continued to fall back into thoughts of admiration for her. There was something implausibly captivating about her existence that continued to baffle him even in her absence. 

As he wandered about his workspace, he stopped in front of one of the many tables cluttered with tools and gadgets. He picked up a PKE metre and turned it over in his hand. As he played with the object, he thought back to roughly an hour ago when y/n stormed across the room, bringing to life the sea of contraptions that lay strewn about on her path of destruction towards him. Although it made him nervous at the time, he couldn’t help but be mesmerised by her striking looks and determination.

Although she did not have the same level of understanding or experience with the scientific method, y/n also came to the conclusion that falling for Dr. Spengler would only result in a terrible heartbreak. Each way she looked at it, she could only see a future of disappointment for one of both of them. It pained her to come to this realisation, but she needed to tell Egon that strict friendship was the only possible answer.

Egon straightened his lab coat and fixed his glasses, setting the PKE metre back on the table. He decided he needed to be strong willed, and confront y/n about their relationship. Romance would only get in the way of his work and could jeopardise their bond, something he treasured regardless. Clearly, this situation was becoming a distraction and needed to be dealt with.

Y/N started down the stairs, her head down as she chose the words she planned on saying to Egon, hoping he’d understand. Silently, she continued downwards, nearly floating due to her weightlessness.

Egon headed up the stairs, watching his feet and rehearsing his lines for what should be an unpleasant conversation. All of the sudden, he stopped in his tracks. A familiar sensation caught his attention, and he snapped his head up as the hairs on his neck sent shivers through him. At the top of the staircase he saw her, graceful as ever, tapping her lips in thought and quietly mumbling to herself. He stared for a moment.

Y/N happened to look up and see him, and jumped back a little. 

“Oh! Dr. Spengler! … It’s you,” she greeted him in surprise. “I was actually hoping to speak with you” she stated with a slight nervous tone. Calmly, she met him at the bottom of the staircase and gazed up at his face. He appeared to be patient and attentive, yet serious. 

“As was I,” he admitted, trying to remain firm in his decision. He looked down at y/n and saw that she was still putting her sentences together, but was doing her best to stay resolute. He noticed her eyes lock with his, and then slowly trail down the features of his face to his lips. Egon followed the same path on her face, and unknowingly began to lean in.

Y/N gingerly put a hand to his chest and he stopped briefly, his pulse pounding in his head. They both paused for a mere second, but seemed to drag on endlessly. In a sudden rush of adrenaline from both of them, Egon moved all the way forward and Y/N wrapped both arms around his neck and shoulders, their lips meeting in the middle.

Instead of pulling back this time, Egon pulled in as close as he could without falling right through y/n and onto the floor. Her touch was icy and numbing, but it was comforting all the same. Once again y/n experienced true warmth for the first time in ages allowing herself to practically melt in his arms. 

Slowly, the kiss came to an end. Both Egon and y/n looked into each other's eyes once more, innocent grins spreading across their faces. Neither could tell that they were both cursing themselves out in their heads.

Tags:

@bambiswriting @rafes-slxt @justbeingme14 @erisdogwood

#the exception #egon spengler #ghostbusters #egon x reader #fanfic #paranormal romance #ghostbusters fic

[blvvming-a]

@mcsaiccfmuses​ asked: Nat and Peter for that party plot

random asks - super encouraged/always accepting!

Peter didn’t really like going to parties much anymore. He would never have said he was the life of every event before but he’d like to go and socialize with people his age. More importantly, he’d like to get high, more than likely with a cute guy or girl, and forget all about his home life for a second. That had all very quickly changed the night that Charlie died. His mother had played favorites the moment that Charlie was born and it was obvious if you spent a day in the Graham household. That favoritism seemed to only increase after Charlie’s death and sometimes Peter felt like he was a ghost in his own home. At this point, he’d prefer the glares and arguments with Annie over her avoidance of him and just pretending that he didn’t exist. After tonight, when she finally paid attention to him, it was in the form of a screaming match at the dinner table and eventually Peter fled the house. His father had tried to call and tell him to come home but he’d since’d put his phone on silent. One of his friends said a friend of theirs was hosting some party tonight that initially he’d declined the invitation to but with nowhere else to go, he found himself walking to the address.

They’d tried to get him involved in the festivities, thrusting a solo cup filled with beer in his hands that he subtly dumped when no one was looking. Everything had been fine at first, he felt a little claustrophobic but moving to the kitchen where there was less people solved that problem. Well, it did, until he looked at the counter and saw a chocolate cake sitting there. His stomach twisted into knots as he realized it had nuts in it. Someone had asked him if he was already when they saw the strange look on his face. He half-muttered something, unable to even remember what he said as he squeezed past people and made for the front door. When he reached it, he’d only made it to the small tree in the front yard that he quickly slid down to the base of. One hand roughly tangled into his messy curls as he tried to remember what a normal breathing pattern was like. He isn’t sure how many minutes pass, how long he spends trying to calm himself down before he hears footsteps softly approach. It takes him a moment to pull his head out of his knees, about to politely tell whoever it was off before he saw Natalie standing there. 

“Shit” he curses beneath his breath, of course, it had to be someone he actually liked seeing him like this. “Hey”, he greets, voice still shaky, “needed a breather?” As if you weren’t the one having a panic attack, dumbass.

#i dropped everything to write this excuse me KJSGNSG #[ ✿ ] : answered asks ➜ #[ ✿ ] : nobody admits anything they’ve done ➜ peter graham #[ ✿ ] : v. ➜ fandomless #mcsaiccofmuses

[waitimcomingtoo]

Dummy

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter is the only one of the Avengers who doesn’t tease you for being a little slow 

Masterlist

Now you weren’t exactly dumb.

You were just a little slow.

When you joined the Avengers last year, the team learned pretty quickly that your mind moved at a different pace than everyone else. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing and it didn’t keep you from doing your job, it just meant you were the butt of most of the jokes. Every time one of your blunders happened, your intelligence would be mocked in some way. You knew it was all in good fun, but it hurt to it feelings every now and then. The only person who never poked fun at you was Peter. And for that reason, he was your favorite on the team.

“How are there 23 minutes left in this movie and I still don’t know any of the characters names?” Steve wondered as you all sat in the couch in Stark Towers, watching a movie on a particularly rainy afternoon.

“I think the main kids name is Phoenix. That’s all I got though.” Sam shook his head, just as confused as Steve.

“The dogs name is Benson.” Bucky mumbled quietly.

“Who names their kid Phoenix?” Peter wondered out loud as he shoveled popcorn into his mouth. The two of you were tucked into the corner of the couch, sharing a blanket and bowl of popcorn. You looked at him like he was crazy when you heard his question.

“Ummm, Joaquin Phoenix’s parents.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You turned your attention back to the movie as a silence settled in the room. You felt everyone’s eyes on you after a minute and looked around to see everyone staring at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“What?” You asked shyly, shrinking down a little in your seat in discomfort.

“That’s his last name.” Sam stated, chuckling a little under his breath. You realized your mistake and felt your face heat up.

“Oh.” You mumbled, your voice getting drowned out as the rest of the Avengers laughed at your expense.

“Did she really just say that?” Nat looked at the group with a playful smile. Everyone, excluding Peter, nodded as their laughter died down.

“Oh my God.” Steve chuckled. “That’s so stupid.”

There was that word again.

He didn’t mean it maliciously. Steve was the kinda of guy who ushered spiders into a magazine so he could let them outside. And yet, it still stung when he said that word.

Stupid.

You smiled sheepishly and tried to focus on the movie, snuggling closer to Peters side until it ended. You were fully aware that he was the only one who didn’t laugh, and you loved him that.

And maybe you loved him for a few other reasons too.

~

“Alright. Who has money for the subway?” Sam asked the group as he patted his empty pockets. You were on another late night trip to get cookies from a specific shop in Times Square, leaving without Tony’s knowledge. Everyones hands went to their pockets and collectively made a face.

“Not me.” Rhodey shrugged.

“I don’t have any.” Bruce added.

“I don’t even have pockets.” Nat realized.

“I have gum.” Peter proudly produced a silver wrapper from his pocket. “Oh wait, it’s just a wrapper.”

“You’re telling me we’re earth’s mightiest heroes and we’re broke?” Sam shook his head is disdain.

“I gave my last dollar to a guy in the subway for playing music.” Peter defended himself.

“What was he playing?” You asked him as you tiredly leaned against his arm.

“A mandolin.” Peter answered, making your face scrunch up.

“That’s a language.” You laughed at him slightly, feeling empowered by having the upper hand. Everyone looked at you and a few of them snorted.

“Mandarin is a language.” Bruce said gently, not wanting to embarrass you further. “Not mandolin.” 

“What?” You blinked in confusion and looked to Peter for answers.

“A mandolin is an instrument, dummy.” Sam chortled. You smiled tightly as the group laughed at your mistake, looking down to hide your blush.

“Oh. Sorry. My bad.” You laughed shyly as you tucked your hair behind your ear and pretending to read a nearby sign.

“That’s okay.” Peter spoke up in your defense. “They sound really similar. Plus like, French, French Horn. Who knows what’s going on?”

“Yeah.” Bucky said softly. “Or like, bra’s aren’t pointy anymore.”

Bruce nodded like it made perfect sense and Sam just shook his head as he texted.

“What?” You whispered to Peter, not knowing what he meant.

“He’s from the 1920s. He’s still adjusting.” Peter whispered to you out of the corner of his mouth before looking at Bucky. “That’s the spirit. Kind of.”

“FRIDAY is sending a car.” Sam informed the group. “This is never happening again. The cookies aren’t that good.”

“They’re pretty good.” Rhodey shrugged, but wanting the late Nate tradition to end. Sam looked at him for a moment before breaking into a smile.

“Hell yeah they are. Let’s do this again tomorrow.”

~

Bruce found you in the lab the next day with a pin between your teeth and a pencil behind your ear. Papers with drawings of suits were scattered around the table as you measured a piece of black fabric.

“What are you doing?” Bruce wondered as he took a seat across from you. You glanced up at him before marking a dot on the fabric.

“Mr. Stark asked me to help him with the new suits. I’m trying to make a fabric template for Nat’s gloves.” You told him as you smoothed the fabric out.

“Is it hard?” He asked, watching you intently as you worked.

“Not really.” You shrugged and took a step back to examine your work. “Okay. How many holes do we need? 1,2,3,4,5.” You counted your fingers. “Okay. Five holes.”

You sat back down and put five dots where her fingers would be to mark where you had to cut. You heard a slight chuckle from Bruce and looked up at him curiously.

“Did you just count your fingers?” He asked slowly, wanting to make sure he saw what he thought he had. “To know how many fingers Nat has?”

Your face burned when you realized how dumb you looked, in front of a scientific genius no less.

“Oh, Uh, yeah.” You stammered, feeling very insecure with him watching you now. You moved slower than before and second guessed moves you’d already made a hundred times. Bruce sensed your discomfort and got out of his seat, tapping the table twice as he thought.

“Have you ever heard the expression “the lights are on but nobody’s home’?” He asked you and you were grateful he changed the subject.

“Yeah, I think I have.” You smiled, proud of yourself for knowing something.

“It reminds me of you.” Bruce said so politely that you didn’t realize it was an insult at first. He left the lab to find Tony, leaving you feeling embarrassed and a little hurt. Everyone knew Bruce could hurt you ten times worse with his words than the Hulk could with his fists, you’d just never been his target before. You slumped down in your seat and continued making the gloves, your mood significantly dampened from before he came in the room.

~

You walked into the kitchen the next morning, sleepily rubbing your eyes. You pressed a chaste kiss on Peters shoulder as you passed him, also more affectionate to your best friend when you were half asleep. You smiled at Rhodey, who was seated at the bar and skimming through a newspaper.

“Did you eat yet?” You asked him through a yawn as you got out yogurt and fruit for yourself.

“No. I needed my coffee first.” He smiled sleepily at you and held up his mug.

“Oh, you mean your sugar with a spoonful of coffee?” You teased him. “Yeah, it’s good you got that out of the way.”

“I prefer it this way. The sugar wakes me up.” Peter defended his drink as he took a sip.

“That’s what the caffeine is supposed to do, mi amor.” You laughed as you ruffled his bed head ridden hair. He was about to make a comeback when his stomach rumbles loudly.

“Someone’s hungry.” You remarked. “Do you want eggs?”

“No thanks.” Peter shook his head. “I can’t eat eggs alone.”

“Well I’m here. And Rhodey’s right there, so you’re not alone.” You told him. “And I can grab Steve and Bucky. They’re just in the other room.”

Rhodey looked up from his newspaper with raised eyebrows and looked at Peter. Peter set his mug down and made a face at Rhodey that told him not to say anything. You looked between the two of them in confusion as you wondered what was going on.

“I meant alone as in without toast, sweetness.” Peter said gently, not wanting you to feel dumb for misunderstanding. “But I am glad you’re here.”

“Oh.” You faked a smile and shrugged like it was no big deal. Peter had handled the situation with ease and you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you normally would. That is until…

“You know, Y/n, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.” Rhodey nodded before going back to his newspaper. You froze with your spoonful of yogurt midway to your mouth and looked at him. He didn’t actually call you dumb, but it was implied. You looked at Peter to see if he was thinking the same thing, but his face had nothing but kindness on it.

“You are pretty.” He agreed with Rhodey. “But you’re a lot of other things too.”

You cracked a smile and rubbed his back for a moment in appreciation.

“Thanks Peter.” You said softly and went back to your breakfast. Not wanting to worry him, you ignored the way Rhodey’s comment made you feel and tried to push it from your mind. But no hard you tried to focus on other things, you had one thought prodding at the back of your head.

You were dumb.

~

A week went by without anyone poking fun at your intelligence. You had a sneaking suspicion Peter had something to do with the lack of comments, but you said nothing. It was nice to have a break from all the teasing and it made hanging out with the team more enjoyable. You all lingered around the kitchen one day, eating all different kinds of lunch when Tony came in the room.

“Eat up, funky bunch.” He clapped his hands. “We have a mission in Alaska to train for and I need all hands on deck. Cap, do you think you can teach Peter that spinny thingy you do?”

“I can try.” Steve looked at Peter and nodded.

“Great. I’m getting a manicure. I’ll be back around noon.” Tony informed you all.

“Wait, I thought you said all hands on deck.” You tilted your head at him.

“I did. Which I why I have to make sure my hands look the best.” Tony waved flirtatiously, wiggling his fingers around like a teenage girl. He smirked as his action was met with some eye rolls and a few chuckles before leaving the room.

“I can’t believe we’re going to Alaska.” Peter nudged you excitedly and you smiled with glee.

“Is Alaska the same as the North Pole? Or am I thinking of Antarctica?” Sam wondered out loud.

“No. The North Pole is all the way at the top. Alaska is below California. Like by Texas.” You said confidently, proud that you knew information that someone else didn’t. Your pride quickly dissipated when you saw the teams faces twist in amusement.

“Wait a minute.” Steve looked at you like you were joking. You shrugged, letting him know you weren’t. Sam burst out laughing and clapped his hands as the rest of the team began to laugh.

“Absolutely not.” Sam grinned as he wiped a tear from his eye.

“Yes it is.” You insisted. “Look at any US map. It’s on the bottom by Hawaii.”

You were getting angry now. You knew you were right this time and they were still teasing you.

“No.” Bucky shook his head is dismissal. “No.”

“Alaska is below California on every map I’ve ever seen. You’re telling me I’m wrong?” You our your hand on your hip and stared at them.

“100%. I am 100% telling you you’re wrong.” Sam said between his laughter. Peter came to your side and showed you a picture of a map on his phone.

“Alaska is US territory but it’s not connected to the rest of the states. They just put it below California on maps to show it’s a part of the US. Thats not actually where it’s located.” He said quietly. You looked at the map for a few seconds before you realized he was right. And if he was right…

You were wrong.

“Oh.” You smiled apologetically and averted your eyes. “Oops.”

You turned around and pretending to clean up the kitchen to hide your searing blush. Your fingers clenched around your sponge when you heard the teasing laughter from behind you.

“Sometimes I wonder how you made it out of high school.” Steve joked as he threw out the crusts of his sandwich. The comment stung you and you began to scrub the counter faster so you could leave the room sooner. Peter could see your shoulders tense and put a reassuring hand on your back. You gave him a tight lipped smiled before putting your dish in the sink.

“I’m still wondering how she made it out of first grade.” Nat teased you and she poked your side.

“I can’t believe she made it out of the womb in the first place with nobody telling her where to go.” Sam said, making everyone laugh loudly. You abruptly threw a dish in the sink, making everyone go silent. You tuned around slowly and faked a smile.

“Haha. Yeah.” You forced a laugh. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

You swiftly left the room before anyone could catch your tears. You felt stupid for even getting upset over it, but their words hurt. Feeling like you were always the dumbest person in the room was taking a toll on you, especially when you weren’t the only one who felt that way. Peter watched you leave with sympathetic eyes, feeling his own frustration bubble at the sound of the team laughing at you. He thought they had listened the first time he told them to stop making fun of you, but they clearly hadn’t. After seeing the pained look on your face, Peter made a decision.

It was never going to happen again.

~

“Ugh. I’m never gonna get this right.” Peter groaned as he messed up the move Steve was trying to teach him once again.

“You’re getting too much inside your head. Just let it happen naturally.” Steve instructed as he resumed his stance. Peter tried the move again, wiping out and landing on his side with a thud. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you spared with Nat.

“I can’t.” Peter got up and rubbed his arm. “I can’t do it.”

Steve nodded, like he was accepting Peters defeat. You stopped sparing and looked at Peter.

“Yes you can. Come on, Peter.” You encouraged him. “Everyone told Van Gogh that he couldn’t be an artist because he only had one ear but he did it anyway.”

The room feel silent, as it often did when you spoke, and everyone looked down.

“Oh dear Lord.” Rhodey sighed and hung his head and he snickered. You could see everyone else fighting back laughter or cracking a smile, yet saying nothing.

“What?” You crossed your arms in annoyance, looming to Peter for help.

“He chopped his ear off after becoming an artist.” Peter said kindly. “He wasn’t born without one.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Tony beat you to it.

“Speaking of ears, do you think of you shone a light in one of Y/n’s ears, it would come out the other ear?” Tony quipped, making everyone laugh. The tips of your ears burned as that feeling of stupidity sunk in again. You undid the Velcro on your boxing gloves and pretended to wipe sweat from your face as you rushed to the bin where the gloves went. You kept your back to the group and pretending to be putting your gloves away when you were really concealing your pained expression.

“Yes.” Nat jeered. “Yes I do.”

Your shoulders slumped with exhaustion as you turned around, making every effort to keep your face neutral. Your face didn’t give away any signs of sadness, but your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the bin gave your true feelings away. Peter noticed this and felt his jaw clench. If you weren’t gonna tell them to stop, he was.

“Leave her alone, guys.” He commanded the crowd before looking at you. “Thanks for the encouragement, Y/n. I’m gonna keep trying.”

“It’s fine.” You nodded curtly. “I’m gonna hit the showers. I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

You walked out of the gym, pausing in place when you heard Sams voice.

“Hit the showers?” He laughed. “We just started.”

“Shhh. Don’t confuse the poor girl any further.” Bruce joked back. You looked back at the gym with your eyebrows knit together, taking a quiet step closer to hear what they were saying about you without you there.

“She’s probably like, ‘whats this magic closet that makes rain?’” Rhodey imitated your voice, making you sound as dense as possible.

“Knock it off guys. It’s not funny.” Peter snapped, but the teasing continued.

“Or like, ‘this shampoo says it adds volume, but I used it and I can’t hear any louder than before’.” Tony mocked you, skipping around a little like a child. Your face contorted in misery as they made fun of you. You knew who they really were, and they were good people. They didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, they were only joking around like they did with everyone. Steve was teased all the time for his old fashioned dialect and no one lets Tony live down the kimono incident. Still, all their insults and mockery cut you like a knife.

“Ahh, I love that girl.” Nat shook her head with a smile. “She’s so dumb.”

“She may be slow, but she’s entertaining as hell.” Sam nodded in agreement.

“I said knock it off.” Peter repeated, getting a reaction this time.

“Aw. Peters mad because we’re teasing his girlfriend.” Nat pouted and pinched Peters cheek. She quickly realized how wholesome she was being and punched Bucky in the face to maintain her lethal assassin persona.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter grumbled. Now that you were out of the room, he was the next target.

“He’s right. Hey, maybe that’s why you guys haven’t gotten together yet.” Rhodey shrugged. “She’s too stupid to realize you’re in love with her.”

That was all you had to hear. You ran towards your with tears running down your face. Thanks to Peters advanced heating, he heard every heavy footstep.

“Okay. Maybe she is a little slow.” Peter shook his head in disdain at the team. “But you guys are idiots.”

~

You were quiet the entire way to Alaska, keeping to yourself and silently looking out the window. Peter attempted to talk to you once or twice, but he could tell you wanted to be alone. The Avengers completed the mission within a few hours with minor damage to the area. Peter focused on his job but found himself looking for you every now and then, being as you usually stayed together during missions. He didn’t see you anywhere and assumed you were doing your own thing on the other side of the field. He heart rest assured when he saw you boarding the jet, still looking reserved and aloof from the rest of the team. You took a seat by the window and rested your chin on your hand, looking out at the bleak landscape in front of you as the jet took off. Peter didn’t engage in small talk with the rest of the team and wistfully stared at you instead, silently willing you to cheer up.

“I think that went pretty well.” Rhodey nodded and the team agreed. “But where were you the whole time, Y/n? Picking daisies?”

Peter held his breath as you slowly turned around. You gave Rhodey a frigid smile and shook your head.

“We came during a blizzard so I used my powers to create a heated force field around the area we were in to prevent frostbite and give you guys and easier time seeing in the snow. We were also at a higher altitude than any of us are used to so I kept the air pressure to sea level standard.” You said simply. “And I assumed there would be smoke from the battle so I rounded up the nearby animals and made a separate for field around them to protect their lungs.”

The room went silent, something you were used to at this point. But instead of everyone falling silent because they were laughing at you, they were impressed.

“Oh.” Rhodey blinked in surprise, not expecting the answer he was given.

“I also picked this flower.” You smiled proudly as you produced a Forget Me Not from your lap. Peter couldn’t keep the grin from breaking through on his face. You were the center of attention once again, but in a good way this time. Everyone was pleasantly surprised with what you had done and it showed.

“I didn’t think about the altitude.” Nat realized.

“I had no idea there was a blizzard.” Steve added, looking dumbfounded.

“Because I kept you from knowing.” You shrugged. “I wanted you guys to focus on the mission.”

“I mean, I knew. I just didn’t tell you guys because I was so distracted by my buffed and polished nails.” Tony twiddled his fingers again, showing off his freshly manicured nails. You all laughed, breaking the tension in the jet.

“Well look at that.” Sam looked impressed. “Y/n knew something we didn’t.”

It was almost a compliment, but it still made you feel insecure. You didn’t want it to be this mind boggling every time you did something useful.

“Thanks, Y/n. That was really smart.” Peter said softly as he patted your knee. You put your hand over his and squeezed it. It was the first time someone called your smart, and it made you feel good.

“It was really smart.” Sam said skeptically. He stared at you for a moment before poking your side.

“What are you doing?” You swatted his hand away.

“Just making sure you’re still in there.” He eyed you suspiciously. Peter could sense the attention was making you uncomfortable and changed the subject.

“Are we almost home?” He asked Tony before peering out the window. The flight was a little over 7 hours on a normal plane, but the Stark jet was much quicker. The flight would only take a few hours, but Peter was not known for being patient.

“Yes, Peter. We are almost back at the tower. You can get your diaper changed and your bottle as soon as we get back.” Tony sassed him, making him shrink in his seat. Your body language had completely changed and your were now sitting straight, facing the group. Peter was glad you were feeling better and didn’t even mind Tony’s comment.

“Guys, let’s be civil. We’re all tired. We all want to get home.” You said calmly. “Let’s just focus on how pretty the sky looks tonight. Isn’t is pretty, Peter?”

He gazed at your profile as you looked out the window at the stars, admiring how pretty you looked from the side.

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.” He conceded without ever taking his eyes off you. You shot him a smile before looking straight ahead at the dashboard.

“Wow, the moon is huge!” You pointed time a large yellow crescent that could be seen through the window.

“That’s literally the reflection of my banana on the windshield.” Tony deadpanned. He may have been right, but it still looked pretty.

“Should we make a wish?” You asked Peter, ignoring Tony’s comment.

“On the banana?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nodded. “On the banana.”

“Why?” Rhodey asked. “It’s not like people wish on the moon.”

“It feels like we should.” You said with confidence.

“Yep. She’s still in there.” Sam chuckled. And just like that, your confidence receded.

“I hate it here.” Bucky sighed heavily and tuned out of the conversation.

“It must be so peaceful being you, Y/n.” Tony remarked.

“Why do you say that?” You wondered.

“Because instead of thinking about your problems and mistrials, you simply don’t think at all.” Tony said suavely. In only a better for minutes, you’d gone from being the hero to the laughing stock of the group. The sly comments and taunting laughter made you feel like you should stop opening your mouth entirely. You faked a smile and turned back towards the window, tuning out the rest of the way home. Peter chewed his lip as he stared at you, feeling useless to helping you out. The team just wouldn’t let up, no matter how many times he told them to stop. Knowing you weren’t in the mood to talk, he scooted closer to you and put a comforting hand on your back. You smiled warmly at him and rested your head on his shoulder, listening to him point out the constellations the whole way home.

~

The next day, you and Peter were sitting in the balcony, working on some new gadgets for Mr. Stark when Peter made a startling discovery.

“Where’s my right web shooter?” Peter stood up in a panic when he realized it was missing. “I left it right here.”

“Maybe a bird carried it off.” You shrugged as you twisted a tiny screw into Peters left web shooter.

“I’m being serious, Y/n.” Peter stated. “Mr. Stark is going to kill me and turn me into a decorative rug if I lost it.”

“I’m being serious too. We live in New York and I see birds around here all the time.” You told him as you continued your work. “And you know the pigeons here are feral. A bird probably stole it to pay for his child support.”

Peter usually entertained your antics and joined in with his own batch of sarcasm, but he wasn’t in the mood. His web shooter was missing and their were actual stakes involved. Without his web shooter, he couldn’t be Spiderman. And without Spider-Man, he couldn’t be an Avenger.

“Can you be serious for once?“ Peter whined, picking up everything on the table to look under it.

“I’m just saying it’s possible, Peter. You never know.” You insisted as you put your screw driver down to help him look. You began looking in the flower pots on the windowsill that you and Peter had planted. Peter stopped his search for a moment, growing angry with you for wasting time. He didn’t know if you were joking around or genuine believed his web shooter was in the flower pots, but it made him frustrated nonetheless. A combination of his lack of sleep and stress over losing the webshooter manifested into a moment of unchecked rage.

“No, it’s not possible.” He snapped. “A bird didn’t steal my web shooter. God, do you have to be so stupid?” 

 The word hung in the air for a moment, settling in to the both of you. Peters eyes immediately softened, feeling instant regret for what he had said. You stopped trifling through the plants and slowly turned around.

“What?” You asked quietly. Peter tightened his lips into a line and tried to justify what he had said.

“I try to defend you but you make it so hard. Can you help me out a little here and not be so…” He trailed off when he realized he had only made it worse. Your face hardened and you looked disappointed in Peter, which killed him. He would have preferred anger or even sadness, but the disappointment killed him.

“So what?” You shrugged. “Finish your sentence Peter.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“No, really, go ahead.” You stated coldly. “You got this far. So what, Peter?”

He looked at you for a moment, getting that feeling of wishing you could turn back time just a few seconds to fix a mistake.

“So dumb all the time.” He finished his sentence with an unsteady voice. Your face scrunched up in a pained expression as you sucked in and let out a shaky breath.

“You were the only one who never called me that.” You whimpered before moving past him and going inside. Peter watched you through the open balcony doors as you disappeared into the hallway with a heavy heart. His mouth was open to apologize, but you were long gone. He’d seen you being ridiculed so many times already, and now he was the one doing it. All that talk about it never happening again, only for him to be the reason it happened. Peter couldn’t live with himself for another minute without you knowing how sorry he was. He took a step towards the doorway until he heard a pigeon land on the table. He watched it curiously for a moment as it pecked at the screwdriver you had been using before picking it up with its beak. It flew over to the edge and began to walk along the railing, still keeping the screwdriver in his mouth. Peter followed the pigeon, walking all the way down the balcony to find a large nest in the corner. He watched as it dropped the screwdriver into its nest, right next to his web shooter.

“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter.” Peter said in disbelief. Peter watched as baby pigeons poked out from inside the web shooter to greet the other pigeon.

“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter for his kids.” Peters eyes widened even more than they already were. Realized struck him and his shoulders slumped.

“She was right.” He mumbled, angry at himself more than ever. “I yelled at her and she was right.”

Peter wasted no time in rescuing his web shooter from the birds, offering them a nice biodegradable coffee cup in its place, and ran to the kitchen to make you a peace offering. He knocked softly on your door and didn’t wait for an answer before going in.

“I made you this cup of tea as an apology.” Peter stiffly held out a mug with an awkward smile on his face. You looked at Peter from your bed, eyes puffy like you had been crying. You stared at each other for a long time, you with a death glare and Peter with his awkward smile. Neither of you said a word as Peter continued to hold out the mug. After two full minute of silence, a bead of sweat ran down Peters face as he looked around nervously, never breaking his smile. You let out an angry sigh and decided to throw him a bone, crossing the room to accept his mug. You looked into the cup for a moment before looking back at Peter.

“This is empty.” You deadpanned.

“I don’t know how to make tea.” Peter whispered, never breaking eye contact.

“I’ve seen you make it.” You snapped.

“I forgot how to do it.” Peters eyes shifted nervously to the side.

“Bucky was in the kitchen, wasn’t he?”

“I know he hates me.” Peter talked over you as you groaned. “I know he does.”

“Just go away.” You tried to close the door but he kept it open.

“No.” Peter said firmly. “I came in here to apologize.”

“You see this?” You held up the mug for a Peter to see. “It’s my cup of care. And look at that” ,you dumped the cup over, “it’s empty.”

Peter stared at your demonstration with raised eyebrows, surprised that you were still able to be sarcastic when he hurt you. Peter took the mug from your hands and set it on the ground before slowly looking up at your face.

“You’re not stupid.” He said softly with all the sincerity his heart could give. You scoffed and folded your arms, looking to the side when you felt tears sting your eyes.

“Yes I am.” You said like you fully believed it, which was Peters worse fear. “Everyone says so. Even you.”

It hit Peter like a sheet of glass when you looked at him like that.

Like he was someone you didn’t want around.

“I didn’t mean to say that.” Peter apologized. “That is not how I feel. At all.”

“Don’t act like you’ve never thought about saying that before.” You laughed sadly. “Everyone on the team calls me dumb. It was only a matter of time before you did it too.”

“I didn’t mean it.” Peter repeated. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Bullshit.” You snapped. “You’re so full of bullshit.”

“I’m not full of bullshit.” He whined like a child and gave you puppy dog eyes. “I’m full of regret.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek as he gave you his best pout, willing you to forgive him. Finally, you caved and cracked a smile.

“I hate you.” You stamped your foot and hung your head, frustrated with yourself for not being able to stay mad at him. Peter opened his arms and you walked into them, arms still folded angrily. You bumped your forehead against his shoulder before moving to rest your chin on it as he wrapped his arms around you. Peter nestled against your hair and sighed, happy that you had forgiven him but still saddened that he had hurt you in the first place. He could see the pile of used tissues on your bed and it killed him to know he made you cry.

“I didn’t mean to call you that. I really didn’t.” He said softly. “I’m the one who’s been trying to stop people from saying that.”

“But they still do it.” You sniffled. “Everyday I get called dumb or stupid or scalene.”

“I think it’s obtuse, not scalene.” Peter reluctantly corrected you. You pulled away and little and let Peter wipe the tears from your face.

“Maybe they’re right.” You shrugged and looked Peter in the eyes. “Maybe I am dumb.”

Peter kept your face between his hands, staring at you for a moment before sighing.

“I once sneezed so many times in a row that I peed my pants.” Peter deadpanned. “I was 17.”

“What?” You chuckled as you wiped your nose.

“I saw Bucky try to take a piece of toast out of the toaster with his metal arm and electrocute himself.” He continued. “And I constantly see Tony bumping into glass doors.”

“I don’t understand.” You squinted your eyes, but sure what point he was trying to make.

“Steve still picks up the phone and asks for the operator. Nat leaves her curling iron plugged in all the time. I do not think Sam knows the address of where we live and I’m pretty sure Rhodey can’t do laundry. He gets all his stuff dry cleaned, even his socks.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You asked.

“Because were all dumb.” Peter concluded. “We all do and say dumb things. You don’t know where Alaska is and no one in this tower can read analog clocks. If we’re all dumb, then maybe none of us are dumb. Or we all are. Who cares?” Peter shrugged, making you laugh. “And you were right. A bird did carry off my web shooter. So no, you’re no dumb. Or stupid. Or obtuse. You’re, uh, you- you…” Peter looked down at he fumbled over his words.

“I’m what?” You raised an eyebrow. You could finish his sentence last time, but this time you were lost.

“You’re…” Peter tampered off again, staring at your confused expression for a moment before pulling you into a kiss. Your hands clenched into a fist and slowly uncurled as you relaxed into the kiss. Peter pulled away too soon and let his eyes flutter open. They met yours and you shared a moment of hesitation, not knowing what happened rest next.

“I’m gonna be honest lovey, I didn’t really have an ending to that sentence.” Peter chris joes softly, his breath fanning your face. “That was mainly improv.”

“You’re pretty good at improv, Parker.” You cracked a smile and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I did a little bit of theater in high school.” He shrugged smugly, making you giggle.

“Mmm. I severely don’t want to hear about that.” You teased before kissing him again.

“Oh, I think you do.” Peter remarked. “Because I once went to the bathroom during intermission with my mic still on and the entire audience heard me peeing.”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

Tag List 🏷

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[engie-ivy]

Marlene’s little brother has a thing for Sirius, because who doesn't have a thing for Sirius? Marlene is freaking out, and everyone thinks it's just hilarious. Remus would've thought it was hilarious too, had Marlene’s little brother not been very close in age, cute, witty, and oh so bloody charming.

Somewhat longer fic that will be added to my Crush Confessions Series! 3756 words, so not that long. Wolfstar Fluff, of course😎

Muggle Charms

James Potter’s garden party is the event of the summer. Everyone gets together at the Potter estate for a day of listening to music, swimming in the lake (yes, there’s a lake on the grounds of the Potter estate), and playing friendly Quidditch matches. Mrs Potter walks around with all sorts of delicious foods, James and Sirius fly their brooms above the lake and make bets who dares to jump off from the greatest height, Mary and Emmeline are sunbathing and make bets who will need to be healed first.

It had started the summer after first year with just the four Marauders, but every year, their number has grown, and this year is the largest group thus far.

Marlene McKinnon is last to arrive, and, as usual, her arrival doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Everyone, come meet my little brother!” She shouts across the field.

The McKinnons have four children. Marlene’s mother and two of her siblings are Muggles, while the rest have magical abilities. Marlene’s sister is the oldest of the siblings. She’s a Muggle who works as a primary school teacher. Despite growing up with a father who’s a wizard, she has always felt slightly uncomfortable around magic, but she loves her family fiercely and is very protective over her younger siblings. As she’s much older than Marlene, she has always been more like a second mother.

Next comes Marlene’s older brother, who’s wizard, but has finished Hogwarts long ago. He now works in the Sales Department for a company that develops novel potions against levitation- and portkey-sickness. According to Marlene he’s a serious businessman by day, and a giant goofball by night.

Last is Marlene’s younger brother. He’s a Muggle, but where Marlene’s sister likes to pretend magic doesn’t exist, he thinks it mighty fascinating. He and Marlene are incredibly close, writing each other constantly and hanging out as often as they can when Marlene was home from Hogwarts. She has never brought him to James’ garden party, though. He works in the Food Service Industry, and the bright summer days on which James plans his parties are the days on which he most likely has to work. This year, however, he had managed to get the day off.

The first thing Remus thinks is that the McKinnons have good genes. He can’t really tell which of the two siblings is older, which means they must be very close in age. The boy has the same thick, blond hair and bright blue eyes as Marlene, as well as the same freckles from the sun. He’s short for a guy, barely taller than Marlene, but he’s quite muscular, with broad shoulders. All in all, Marlene’s younger brother is a very cute guy.

“Everyone, this is Miles!” Marlene says, when everyone has gathered around. “Let’s see... Here we have James Potter, he’s the host.”

Miles grins at James. “Some house you’ve got here, mate. Thanks for having me!”

James grins back and lifts his beer. “Cheers, mate!”

“James is Lily’s boyfriend,” Marlene says. “You’ve already met Lily-” Miles gives Lily a warm smile “-and of course you know Dorcas.”

“Hullo Dorky.”

“Hiya Miley.”

“And here we have my other girls, Alice Fortescue, Mary McDonald and Emmeline Vance.” Marlene points each of the girls out, and Miles gives them all a friendly nod.

“And these two are the Prewetts, Fabian and Gideon- don’t worry about who’s who, none of us actually knows.”

“Oi!”

“And this is Caradoc Dearborn, and this Benjy Fenwick, so miraculously you’re not the shortest guy here.”

“Marlene!”

“And here we have the rest of the renegades, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black.”

The chance in Miles is instant.

The polite smile he was wearing turns into a coy smile, as he gives Sirius a not-so-subtle once-over, though Remus doesn’t think it was ever meant to be subtle. Miles takes a step forward towards Sirius. “Well, hello there.”

Remus can’t blame him. He would’ve reacted the same had he been in Miles’ position (alright, maybe he would’ve turned into a blushing, stuttering mess and forget his own name if he were suddenly faced with a guy like Sirius, instead of step forward with an enticing smile and flirtatious greeting, but that’s beside the point). Sirius looks bloody amazing. His swimming trunks are clinging to his legs, and his damp hair is hanging over his bare chest, with little droplets dripping down his muscular body.

Sirius grins knowingly at Miles. “Hi.”

Marlene’s head whirls around from Miles to Sirius to Miles and back to Sirius, so fast Remus worries she might get a whiplash.

“No,” she says. “No, nope, uh-uh, absolutely not. Not. Happening. No.”

She steps between her brother and Sirius, facing the latter, and jabbing a finger against his chest. “You are not going to try anything on my little brother, got it?”

Sirius holds up his hands and takes a step back. “I only said hi.”

Marlene looks at him suspiciously, like she suspects Sirius saying hi is some sort of secret seduction technique (which would actually explain a lot).

“C’mon Marls.” Miles moves to stand next to his sister, and throws an arm over her shoulder. He winks at Sirius. “We all just want to have a good time, don’t we?”

Marlene’s face is getting more red by the second. Her fingers are clutching her cardboard plate, causing it to rumple. She’s clenching her jaw, while intently staring at the pair a bit further on the field.

“I can’t bloody believe it,” she hisses. “If Black thinks I’ll let him hook up with my little brother, he has another thing coming!”

Miles had managed to catch Sirius when he went to grab a drink, and they have been chatting apart from the rest of the group for about half an hour now, to Marlene’s great distress, and everyone else’s amusement. Well, everyone else except for Remus, but he thinks he’s been hiding it quite well.

Remus doesn’t know how the guy does it, but Miles somehow manages to stand closer and closer to Sirius. He’s looking up at him through his lashes, with those big blue eyes and that damned smile, sometimes even going as far as to bite his lip. Sirius has definitely been blushing at some point!

While Remus is the only one who can emphasize with Marlene’s distress over the situation, he really doesn’t like how she’s blaming it all on Sirius, while evidently its her brother who’s acting like a little minx.

“Honestly, Marlene,” Lily says, shaking her head. “Didn’t you talk to Miles about there being an incredibly hot, single gay guy present?”

Remus agrees. Marlene should’ve known what would happen when she decided to introduce her brother to Sirius! You cannot bring him here knowing Sirius is looking like he does, and expect him not to react!

Marlene huffs indignantly. “My little brother is a precious angel who’s not interested in such a thing as ‘hot, single men’!”

Lily looks at Miles and Sirius. Miles seems to be laughing at something Sirius said, and touches his upper arm while doing so, letting his hand slide down Sirius’ bicep. Lily turns her head back to Marlene and raises her eyebrow.

Marlene just folds her arms over her chest and pointedly looks away.

Later, when Miles reaches up to brush a strand of hair from Sirius’ face, Marlene’s face has taken on a more purple colour. By this time, she has started angrily chewing on her cardboard plate.

Luckily, everyone’s too busy making fun of Marlene to notice Remus looks like he’s going to be sick.

Normally, a day at the Potter estate flies by, but Remus is positive this day lasts at least three times as long. But Remus has been getting through it. He hopes that after today, he won’t see Miles McKinnon of ever again. Well, he mostly hopes Sirius won’t see Miles McKinnon ever again, he can admit that . To himself, that is.

Currently, he’s sitting down with James, having a butterbeer. Just when he thinks he might make it through these last hours without further additions to his misery, Marlene comes striding their way, Dorcas on her heels.

“Potter,” she says, stopping in front of them and placing her fists on her hips. “You’ve got something I need, and I want it now!”

“Sorry McKinnon,” James says with a smirk. “I’m a one woman man.”

“In your dreams, you wanker,” Marlene snaps. “You’ve got an Invisibility Cloak, no?”

James takes off his glasses and starts polishing them with his robes. “I may or may not possess such a thing.”

Marlene rolls her eyes. “After seven years of going to school with you, I think I can safely say that you do. Well, I need you to use it. Miles asked Black to take him on a tour around the lake.” She scrunches up her nose. “And you have to follow them so you can report back to me whether Black has kept his paws off of my little brother!”

“More the other way around,” Remus mutters, but Marlene hears and glares at him.

“My sweet and innocent little brother would never do such a thing! He simply... wants to see the surroundings and needs Black for directions.”

Dorcas throws her head back and cackles loudly. “The only directions your ‘sweet and innocent little brother’ is interested in, is the fastest way to get into Sirius Black’s pants!”

Marlene directs a deadly glare at her.

Just when Remus thinks at least Dorcas knows what she’s talking about, she continues. “C’mon Marls, Miles can make his own decisions. Let the boys have some fun!”

Let the boys have some fun? That’s not a good idea! That’s the opposite of a good idea! That’s a terrible idea!

“Well,” Remus says, managing to sound surprisingly calm. “We’re on Mr and Mrs Potter’s property, and Miles has only just been introduced to the gang. I mean, he and Sirius barely know each other. I’d say it’d be rather inappropriate if something happens between them here and now. You don’t want Marlene’s brother to give off the wrong impression.”

James sighs. “What if I lend you the Invisibility Cloak, and you can follow them yourself?”

“Oh, no!” Marlene holds up her hands and takes a step back. “There are certain things I don’t ever want to see my little brother do, or hear my little brother say. If I were to... accidentally stumble upon them, I’d either have to Obliviate myself, or be scarred for life.”

Remus snorts. Not so sure about her brother being so innocent after all, is she?

“Well, Padfoot’s my brother!” James argues.

“Remember when I put in a good word for you with Lily, and finally got her to agree to go on a date with you?” Marlene plays her final card, and effectively.

“Fine!” James puts down his butterbeer and gets up. “Remus, let’s go.”

“What? Me? Why?”

“Because you got me into this, Mr ‘it’d be inappropriate’. And besides, I’ll feel like some perverted Peeping Tom spying on them alone.”

“So better to have two Peeping Toms?” Remus argues, but he knows it’s an argument he’s not going to win.

That’s how Remus finds himself in the place he wants to be least of all, crouched down under the Invisibility Cloak with James, and, after casting a quick Silencio over their footsteps, following on Sirius and Miles on their ‘casual, totally not romantic, definitely not a date’ stroll.

“-and once I’ve gained enough experience, I’d like to come back to London and open my own restaurant!” Miles finishes.

“That’s amazing, Miles!” Sirius exclaims. “I’ll definitely frequent!”

“As long as you don’t expect any free food just because you’re so handsome,” Miles teases.

Sirius gasps in pretend-shock. “I would never use my looks for such purposes!”

“Right,” Miles chuckles. “You be careful, Sirius Black. A face like yours is a powerful weapon.”

“Wow,” James whispers admiringly. “He’s good!”

Remus grits his teeth. Of bloody course Miles McKinnon is all charming and smooth, chatting Sirius up.

“What about you?” Miles asks. “What are your plans for the future, now that you’re some kind of strong and powerful wizard?”

“I’m starting my Healer training soon!” Sirius beams, and Remus can’t help but smile at the pride in his voice.

“That’s... like a doctor, right?” Miles asks.

“Yeah,” Sirius replies. “But without the cutting people open.” He shudders. “Definitely no cutting people open.”

“Oi!” Miles protests, bumping his shoulder against Sirius. “Doctors cut people open to save lives, you know. They don’t do it for a laugh.”

“I’m sorry!” Sirius quickly says. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s actually very impressive what Muggle doctors can do without magic, and the things they’ve come up with! I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Miles says, glancing at Sirius. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sirius smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s just... I was raised in this really conservative pureblood Wizarding family. I’m always afraid I’ll say something Muggle-phobic without realising.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t that bad, honestly.”

“Good,” Sirius says, relieved. “I’m just... trying to be better.”

Miles smiles softly at him. “Just the fact that you’re trying already makes you better.”

They walk in comfortable silence for a moment, until Miles speaks again. “That must’ve been hard though, growing up in a family like that. Marlene already mentioned you’re living here now. Is that why?”

Sirius nods. “I ran away from home the summer before. Best decision I’ve ever made.” There’s a tightness in his voice, though, and an emotion in his eyes that makes Remus want to run towards him and pull him into a hug.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Miles says sincerely. Then he gives Sirius a teasing smile. “Though I must say, it’s a good look on you, the whole ‘sexy rebel’-thing.”

Sirius barks a laugh, and the pained expression slides off his face. “Well, I’m glad my issues at least fit my anaesthetic!”

Remus doesn’t know whether he wants to bless Miles McKinnon for being able to turn Sirius’ mood around and make him smile, or whether he wants to curse Miles McKinnon for being able to turn Sirius’ mood around and make him smile.

“I bet you love provoking your family, don’t you?” Miles asks.

“That might just be my most favourite pastime,” Sirius replies sincerely.

Suddenly, Miles stops walking, so Sirius stops as well and turns back to face him.

Miles takes a step towards him. “I bet it would really provoke your family if you were to make out with a boy, a Muggle boy at that.”

Sirius swallows and his face slightly flushes. “That... That’ll definitely do the trick, yeah.”

Miles comes even closer, now almost standing chest-to-chest with Sirius, and he tilts his head up and leans in.

James still looks mighty impressed with Miles’ flirting tactics, while Remus wonders if the sound of his heart shattering might give them away.

Suddenly, Sirius steps back. “Wait, stop. I... I can’t.”

Miles looks disappointed, but not too shocked. “Why not?” He asks. Then he jabs his finger against Sirius’ chest, much like his sister did earlier. “And I swear to god, Sirius Black, if it’s because I’m a Muggle you can stick that wand of yours up your-”

“No, no, no!” Sirius quickly says, whilst letting out a breathless laugh. “It’s not you, really, it’s me.”

Miles gives Sirius a stern look, while placing his fists on his hips, making Remus wonder whether they’re sure Marlene and Miles aren’t twins. “If you’re gonna give me that lame excuse, at least elaborate what it is about ‘not me, but you’ that makes you reject me. I mean, I’m not proposing a marriage here!”

Sirius sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “There’s... someone else. I mean, there’s not really, I don’t have someone else, but I have feelings for someone else. So therefore this-” He gestures between himself and Miles. “Just doesn’t feel right.”

Remus exchanges a look with James, who looks just as stunned as he is by this information.

Miles, though, just folds his arms over his chest and looks at Sirius thoughtfully for a moment. “So, Lupin then?”

Remus freezes. What? Him? Oh no. He’s not sure he can bear to hear Sirius’ denial. ‘Lupin? Remus? No, of course not! What in Godric’s name gave you that idea? Why the hell would I fancy Remus?’

However, Sirius just sighs and looks down at his shoes. “I’m that obvious, huh?”

Remus stares dumbfounded. It’s... true? He feels an eruption of butterflies in his stomach. Well, he always feels some butterflies when he sees Sirius, but now it’s like all those butterflies had babies, and those babies had babies again, creating an immense flutter.

“Nah,” Miles says. “If I had known for sure, I wouldn’t have made a move. I only had a suspicion, but I decided to take a chance anyway. I’m not too surprised by this turn of events, though.”

“It’s really the only reason,” Sirius says. “Because you’re bloody great, you know that? You’re gonna make some guy really happy one day. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Miles groans. “ ‘Its not you, it’s me’, ‘anyone would be lucky to have you’. Shall we go before you start telling me we can still be friends?”

Sirius grins. “Normally I’d suggest we at least pretend to have had a good snog, just to see if Marlene’s face can get any more purple, but I don’t want to give Remus the wrong impression. Not that he’d care,” he adds with a mutter.

Miles stops walking again. “What? Are you seri- No, Marlene warned me not to say that. Really?”

Sirius just blinks at him.

Miles shakes his head. “I mean, you asked if you were being obvious, well, you were nothing compared to Lupin. Although, that could just be me. I couldn’t help but notice when he’s looking at me like he wants me to catch fire every time I come near you. Wait. You wizards can actually do that, can’t you?”

Remus huffs. He wouldn’t have actually set Miles on fire! At least he doesn’t think so.

Sirius frowns at Miles. “You must be mistaken. Remus is nothing but pure kindness! He always makes everyone feel welcome! You can’t help but like Remus!”

A warm feeling spreads through Remus’ chest.

Miles just looks at Sirius, shaking his head. “You’re actually in love, aren’t you?”

Sirius blushes and looks away.

“Well,” Miles says. “You should tell him how you feel. He clearly feels the same. Then you can both stop this pining.”

James, who just had to process the shock of one of his best friends fancying another one of his best friends, now has to process the shock of his best friends fancying each other. He’s staring at Remus, and consequently trips over a rock. He does manage to catch is balance, but he lets out a loud yelp.

Miles stares at the empty spot behind them on the path, surprised, but Sirius’ eyes narrow in suspicion. He lifts his wand, and the next moment a gush of wind blows the Invisibility Cloak off of Remus and James.

To his credit, Miles recovers pretty quickly from seeing two people appear seemingly out of nowhere, including the person they were just talking about. He blinks a couple of times, then says “I suppose this works as well.”

Remus and Sirius are just staring at each other.

“Uhm...” James says. “I was sent here by miss McKinnon to escort the younger McKinnon back to the estate.” Because apparently awkward situations make him talk like he’s an eighteen century nobleman. “Off we go, young lad.”

Miles doesn’t protest when James grabs his arm and starts dragging him away, but he does turn around to give Sirius a thumbs up.

“We were sent here by McKinnon,” Remus quickly says, when he and Sirius are alone. “She wanted to know if anything would happen between you and her brother.” Remus takes a deep breath. “And maybe I wanted to know if anything would happen between you and him myself as well,” he says softly.

“Were you jealous?” Sirius asks. It sounds curious, not angry, judgemental or smug, just curious.

Still, Remus can’t help but pout, and he looks away. “Of course I was jealous. Bloody Miles McKinnon, with his big blue eyes, batting those ridiculously long eyelashes at you, and being all cute, and witty, and charming.”

“You know, if you want Miles to snog you instead, you should hurry and you can probably still catch him,” Sirius says irritably.

“No!” Remus quickly says. “No. I just mean, I wish it was me. When he calls you handsome, when he brushes your hair away from your face, when he leans in to kiss you... I wish it was me doing those things.”

“Why don’t you?” Sirius whispers, staring at Remus intently.

“Because!” Remus says desperately. “Because I know how to be your friend, but if I even think about flirting with you, I turn into an awkward, rambling mess.”

The only thing that can possibly be going through Sirius’ mind right now is how the hell he let the sexy, confident, flirtatious boy walk away, to be stuck with the flustered heap of awkwardness that is Remus Lupin.

Remus stares down at his shoes. “I mean, I like you a lot, and also because I feel comfortable around you, I do, but when it comes to flirting, I suddenly get scared that you’ll laugh at me or something. I even think it’d be easier if you weren’t my friend, if we didn’t know each other so well. Then maybe I could-”

Remus stops talking when Sirius gently cups his cheek and tilts his head up. Slowly, ever so slowly, he leans in, giving Remus enough time to pull away had he wanted to. Which, for the record, he absolutely doesn’t. Sirius presses their lips together. And it’s...

Well, it’s not awkward at all.

It’s fireworks, and symphonies, and the sun breaking through the clouds. It’s a sense of belonging, and knowing all is right with the world, and a feeling of coming home.

Both boys are a little out of breath when they pull back, more because of the intense emotions than because the kiss had been that passionate.

“See?” Sirius smiles at Remus. “If I want you to stop rambling, I can always just... interrupt.”

“Rude,” Remus mutters, before pulling Sirius back into another kiss.

#my tumblr writing #crush confessions #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #james potter #marlene mckinnon #wolfstar fluff

[farfromharry]

🥳- congrats on 2k 🎊 can I get a blurb of Harry H being in love with actress!reader who plays tom’s love interest in Spiderman 🎥 a bit of jealous Harry with fluff at the end please 😍

🥳 - send in a blurb request for tom (+peter or arvin) harry and harrison ( +leo)

summary: harry has a crush on you but your tom’s new love interest in spiderman

harry holland x actress!reader

w/c 764

Harry didn’t tend to get too easily attached to any of Tom’s co-stars. It was sort of a rule for him at this point. Yes, some of them were really good to hang out with while filming, but at the end of the day they were there to do a job, not make friends with their co-stars little brother.

So that’s why Harry was so angry when he found out you would be the love interest in Tom's newest Spiderman movie. He’d had a crush on you for years, he loved your work as an actress and he could confidently say he’d seen nearly every movie you’d been in; he loved most of them too. But other than your work he thought you were beautiful, in interviews you seemed like the kindest person and if he was being honest, he was a little bit jealous that Tom was getting to pretend to date you.

He didn’t want to get attached to you for the few months you’d be spending together, only to go and never see you again after it was over. He was convinced it would kill him.

But he couldn’t control how fond he was of you, and had nearly melted into a puddle when you first met, of course Tom had introduced the two of you as he knew about Harry’s crush, and he did find it very amusing to watch the man trip over his words and flush red everytime you so much as looked his way.

“I should get going, but it was really nice to meet you, Harry. I hope to see you again soon.” His eyes widened and he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans nervously.

“Yeah, um, you too.” Tom was trying to hold back his laughter at how awkward his baby brother was being, only earning him a slap on the arm from the curly headed man.

“Remember your rule, she’s still my co-star.”

»»——⍟——««

Things had been going great for a while since Harry and you had first met. You’d chat together on set, laugh together, and sometimes you’d even ask him to get lunch with you. He thought you were just being polite, but you knew it was so you could spend some more time with him, alone.

However the day Harry had been dreading since Tom allowed him to read the script had finally arrived, and he may have been slightly more aggressive towards his brother about it than he intended to.

It got to the point where Tom was completely sick of it, calling him out for acting purely like a dick.

“What is up with you today?” Tom asked, getting rather sick of the attitude Harry was giving him whenever he opened his mouth. Today of course was the day they were filming the kiss scene between you and Tom, and Harry could have looked less forward to it if he tried.

“Why do you get to kiss Y/N?”

The older of the two grinned, much to Harry’s confusion, as behind his back he was unable to see you standing there.

“I get to kiss her cause she clearly prefers me,” he teased, although Harry was too clouded by irritation to realise his brother was simply poking fun at him.

He was nearly seething and Tom was surprised how easy it was to rile him up so quickly. You were trying to contain your laughter as the younger man tried to ramble his way through a list of reasons of why you definitely liked Harry as more than a friend and had no feelings for Tom.

“I guess you know me better than I know myself,” you said, a smirk settling on your lips as you watched him freeze in his spot. You didn’t even try and stop your giggle as he turned around sheepishly to look at you, his cheeks flushed a bright red.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t-“ You shook your head, shuffling over to him until your bodies practically touched.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you murmured, tugging him towards you to slot your lips against his.

Tom cheered for you both obnoxiously loudly, being the reason you and Harry eventually pulled away, shooting him an unimpressed glance. Over the months you’d grown to know Tom well enough that you knew what that smile on his face was implying; he was up to something.

He placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder, shooting you a wink that had the boy scowling at his sibling. “Thanks for helping her practice for me.”

“Oh, I’m going to kill you.”

send me an emoji for my sleepover!!

harry holland taglist → @euphorichxlland @theliterarymess-crackships @call-me-baby-gir1 @icyhollands @hollandbroz-n-haz @hopelessly-harry @siriuslyslyslytherin @musicalkeys-blog @itstaskeen @zspideyy @spideyssunshine @givebuckyhisplumsnow @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @hopeless-romantic-baby @thehumanistsdiary @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @bvttercupbby @kujokura @jess-holland23 @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @annathesillyfriend @sunwardsss @messedupmyfuckinglife @bi-lmg @tomhollandismyhusband1996 @multixfandomwriter @hallecarey1 @avengers-hamiltrash @writingrem @aayaissaa @mamaparker28 @edmundspevensea

#harry holland #harry holland fluff #harry holland imagine #harry holland imagines #ellie’s 2k sleepover

[imjustdreamingig]

medieval times with the pevensie's

Heres a strange little headcanon/au/meta I'm not sure what they're called :

I had a thought, imagine if the Pevensie's story took place present day (as in the 2000's)

When the Pevensie's returned from their first trip to Narnia, they were miserable, confused and in bodies two sizes too small.

Their mother noticed something off about them when she went to pick them up at the train station when they returned from the country. Her children might look the same yes, but there was something different in the way they held themselves. The glint in their eyes were not ones of childish innocence but of ones that had seen horrors many have not even seen in their nightmares.

As the weeks passed, Helen began to notice that her children's odd behavior was probably not going away anytime soon. There was always a sad tilt to their smiles even when they assured her that everything was alright. Helen couldn't bring herself to mention that she did indeed notice the amount of worried and hurried whispers going around between the four, as she didn't want another lie told to her face. She would rather them come to her in their own time and not pressure them into telling her anything.

Helen noticed how her children never hung out with any of their friends anymore and that they rarely watched T.V. or used their phones. She constantly had to remind them that at least one of them, namely Peter, had to take a cellphone whenever the four of them went on walks which was quite odd because who ever heard of a teen not obsessed with their phones?

Another thing that struck Helen as odd was that it was always just the four of them on their walks. They invited no one else with them, that she knew of anyways, but they never mentioned anyone else once they returned.

After noticing her children's odd behavior, she decided to do something to treat them, to lift their spirits and maybe see a genuine smile on their faces for once. She saw on T.V. a commercial for this place called Medieval Times and thought that this would be a perfect place to take her children to. It seemed entertaining, exciting and an event that she thought would contain elements that would interest all four of her children.

The siblings, mainly Peter and Edmund, had suddenly taken an unusual interest in using fake swords they ordered off of Amazon and having sparring matches in the backyard whenever they thought Helen wasn't home. She would briefly catch a glimpse of them whenever she arrived early from work and was surprised to notice how good they were. Susan and Lucy would cheer them on from the sides and occasionally Lucy would join in the sparring, the fluidity of her movements causing another shock of surprise from her mother.

She then called the number displayed on the screen and since she called because of that specific ad, she got a decent discount on their tickets.

On Saturday morning, Helen awoke long before her alarm was set to ring. She went about her morning routine before waking up the children. Lucy was naturally an early riser so she got up with no problem which always baffled Edmund because who would willingly wake up early with no complaints? Which is why it was no surprise that Helen had to practically drag Edmund out of bed who kept groaning until Peter, who had woken up because of the amount of noise they were making told him to stop and to get ready.

Helen found it very strange that all of her children would listen attentively to whatever Peter said and would do whatever he asked them to with practically no hesitance, even Edmund who fought the most with Peter before leaving for the country. That had taken a lot to get used to, although she was glad that the level of fighting and shouting had diminished. She oddly kind of missed the noise.

Meanwhile, Susan was standing by the doorway having gotten up right after Peter and was watching the scene before her unfold. She was reminiscing the now bittersweet memories from back in Narnia when she herself had to drag Edmund out of bed whenever they had to have a particular earlier start to the day. She sighed and left the rest of her family to head back into her room to get ready, pushing back the memories of Narnia and focusing on choosing what outfit she was going to wear for the day.

About an hour had passed and everyone was set to go. The Pevensies piled into the minivan, because of course the Pevensie's had a mini van, with Peter in the passenger seat, Susan and Edmund in the next row and Lucy in the backseat. Although they had asked politely, she would not give the children any clues as to where they were going.

Helen slowly found herself getting used to the level of formality it seemed her children now acquired. It seemed she found herself getting used to a lot of changes in their behavior ever since the children returned from the country. She didn't notice the discreet nervous glances the siblings shared as they really didn't like not knowing where they were being taken, each of them recalling a specific occurrence back in Narnia with much disdain.

When they arrived and approached the main entrance of the building where the name Medieval Times was proudly displayed, the four siblings exchanged glances that to outsiders would've revealed nothing but gave the impression as though they were having entire conversations with just a few short looks. Helen noticed the sudden silence from her children and although she did not know why, she began to feel a little worried.

Once they had taken their seats in the front row so they were directly in front of the stadium and been told which team they were going to cheer for, Helens anxiousness grew when the children, even Lucy, declined the option to wear any of the plastic crowns they offered the crowd to show support for their given teams. She was sure she saw a look of mild disgust when Edmund took notice of what was clearly two fake swords crossed over each other and mounted on the wall on the way to their seats.

She didn't notice however, the slight tremble in Susan's hand when her gaze fell upon a bow with a quiver of arrows clearly made of plastic in the display case of the gift shop, or how Lucy went slightly pale when her eyes came across a small dagger made out of cheap metal with silver stones embedded into its hilt, or how Peter's eyes turned cold when he spotted an inaccurate imitation of what was supposed to be a medieval sword and shield displayed in a glass case right in the center of the room.

When the show finally began and the horses galloped out into the stadium with the 'knights' mounted on top of them, their team colors proudly displayed on the flags each of them held, she saw out of the corner of her eyes how Edmund who was sitting beside her, slowly placed his hand on top of Peter's who was gripping the arm of the chair so tightly his knuckles were going white. Susan, who was in between Peter and Lucy, wrapped her arms around Lucy's shoulders, but this action went unbeknownst to Helen as her line of sight was partially blocked.

The whole crowd was cheering and applauding their respective teams, laughter and screams filling the stadium, but there was no noise coming from any of the Pevensie siblings. They weren't even trying to pretend they were enjoying themselves, too caught up in certain memories during their times in a certain land. The wounds were still too fresh, it had only been a little less than a month since they'd returned. The pit of anxiousness in Helens stomach only grew with each passing moment.

Half an hour went by and still none of the siblings said a word, their steely eyes were firmly fixed on the events happening below them, a mostly stoic expression donning each of their faces. Helen's worry only grew and she was beginning to silently panic. She didn't understand what invisible force was holding her back, why she couldn't bring herself to ask her children what was wrong.

Maybe it was because when she glanced over at them she didn't see children, but for a brief moment a vision of grown men and women sitting straight backed, their heads held high with their chins raised ever so slightly. She had to blink several times because she was quite sure she saw a gleam of silver and gold coming from the top of Edmund and Peter's head, as if there were crowns perched on their heads a mere few seconds ago. She shook her head of the absurd thoughts filling it, blaming the illusions she'd just been presented on the lack of water she'd drank that day and turned her attention to the front once more.

When the actually fighting between the knights began, that's when things took a turn for the worse. As the knights were sparring and performed what looked like some rather complicated moves with their swords to the rest of the audience, Edmund beside her finally showed signs of life and leaned back into his seat. As he crossed his arms, he scoffed and rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how uncoordinated the wrist movement was and that their stance was atrocious. Helen was shocked. Since when did Edmund use words such as atrocious?

She then saw similar behavior from Peter although it was slightly more reserved, but one could still notice the hint of disapproval when he sighed and shook his head. Helen was even more shocked when Lucy actually booed at one point. She wasn't that loud but before she could say anything else, Susan leaned down and murmured something into Lucy's ear. At first Lucy looked offended but then a resigned look fell upon her face as she nodded. Even so, Helen was still surprised to see the hint of sadness that was present in Susan's eyes as she turned to face the front, this time able to see her arm once again wrapping around Lucy's shoulders and the placement of her other arm in the crook of Peter's elbow.

When the fourth pair of knights began to fight, Helen felt a charge in the air before anything happened. The temperature in the room had risen and those around the Pevensie's began to feel warm and sweaty. Suddenly, Peter leapt up from his chair and onto his feet. He had grown restless and had enough of watching inexperienced amateurs who had no idea how to handle a sword, pass off as though they were naturals in that specific art of combat with a certain air of superiority around them. Peter couldn't establish if it was actually there surrounding them or if his rage was causing him to see things.

Peter's patience snapped as he directed his harsh glare at the closest knights in front of him, all whilst maintaining a relatively calm look on his face which made him look that much more terrifying. With his arms clenched at his side, Peter spoke in a voice Helen had never heard coming out of the mouth of her son, laced with disgust and a mocking undertone. As Peter spoke she felt many things at once; curiosity, fear, and surprisingly shame as if though she was getting scolded by someone who caught her doing something against the rules.

The strangest thing however, was that she felt as if she was standing in the presence of someone with high authority, someone in a position of power that knew what they were doing, that addressed their company in a tone that made it clear that they were in charge. How she felt this way when staring up at her son with eyes wide, she does not know.

"By the mane," Peter said under his breath before a slight scowl graced his lips and a booming voice filled the air, "are you seriously acting as though you know what you're doing? With that footwork and those feebly attempted strikes you'll end up killing yourself before you even lay a blow on your oppone- Susan get off of m- Lucy do not encourage her, Ed what n-"

The knights turned to look at the source of whoever was shouting with a slightly affronted look on their faces as did a lot of people in the audience. They were shocked to see that it was merely a young boy who looked as though he had a lot more to say before being grabbed by what the knight assumed were his siblings or friends.

Peter had always been a composed man for the sake of keeping up appearances for his subjects in Narnia. Many of its inhabitants had learned to fear the rare outbursts of the High King's anger. When Peter snapped and let his anger loose, there was no going back. His anger was similar to a fire, at first a small flame yet still capable of burning you if you got too close until eventually, it grew into a monster filled with heat and rage, finally let free of its cage and seeking to destroy everything in its path. It became uncontrollable to the point that not even Lucy could manage to tame it automatically.

Ever since the Pevensie's stumbled out of Narnia, Peter's been a ticking time bomb, slowly counting down the seconds until he finally exploded. The tension in Peter's chest has been brewing, growing tighter with each passing day without a glimpse of a possibility of returning to Narnia, of going home.

With all the anger and the resentment Peter's been keeping away from prying eyes, his siblings are surprised and mildly impressed he's been able to keep a handle on his emotions until now. They all knew that Peter's pride and his role as High King would prevent him from answering truthfully if any of them had outright asked Peter if he needed to talk.

To make up for this but still looking for ways to support their eldest brother, Lucy made it her personal goal to make Peter laugh as much as possible at the many jokes she'd say and the joking banter she'd try to make him participate in. Susan would lace her arm through his at random points of the day, knowing that although it was a simple action, it was a way of responding to all the unspoken words between them but were ever so visible in the way Peter's eyes would occasionally appear bloodshot red whenever he sat down for breakfast. Edmund would come into Peter's room and sit down on his bed and talk about a plot of either a book he'd been reading, a movie he remembered watching, what he saw their neighbors doing in the morning, anything to distract Peter from the thoughts plaguing his mind.

Susan, Edmund and Lucy all knew deep down the moment they realized where their mothers surprise was taking place that this would be the final straw for Peter. They were both in some ways relieved that he would finally be able to release all the built up tension wound tightly in his chest but also nervous about its outcome.

Which is why when Peter suddenly stood up from his seat about to reprimand the so called 'knights', they sprung into action. They were expecting this and Peter's reaction didn't come to them as much of a surprise. They really couldn't blame Peter for this to be the deciding factor for his upcoming actions. Every move that was supposedly meant to imitate real sword fights of the past made the rest of the Pevensie's siblings grimace as well.

As they led him out into the hallway outside of the arena, Lucy had swung one of Peter's arms over her shoulders, her hand clutching his with the other wrapped around his waist. Susan grabbed his forearm and gently pulled him in the direction of the exit despite his protests. There was a reason both girls had the task of leading him out into the hallway, it was because they had a better chance of not being shoved aside and walking back down to the arena to continue his verbal assault on the knights quite frankly embarrassing display of a sword fight. If it had been Edmund leading him it might've been a different story.

Edmund was directly behind Peter, ready to take matters into his own hands if Peter did indeed end up trying to escape the holds of his sisters. Edmund knew Peter however, and knew his desperation would never get to that point. On the rare occasions Peter lost his composure in front of visiting dignitaries back in Narnia, all he needed was a gentle reminder from his siblings, a touch or a glance to remind him of his position. Unless he was in the battlefield, there no one who could stop Peter on his path to claim another victory for Narnia.

As the children led Peter outside they did not notice the pairs of eyes that followed them as they went, or realize that they had left their mother behind, still sitting in her seat with her mouth agape. Once she shook herself from her stupor, she hastily grabbed her belongings as well as the coat Lucy left behind and rushed to catch up with her children, leaving two very red faced knights openly staring at her as she left, not quite understanding what had just happened.

The people in the audience who did not take notice Peter's outburst started to wonder why the two knights had stopped their sparing and what made them do so? It was likely that the supervisors of the show noticed this too as a voice over the intercom announced they would be taking a short intermission and if all the knights would please make their way to backstage. They did although say to make their way into the castle to not ruin the medieval effect they were trying to push across.

When Helen finally caught up with her children the siblings were making their way to the car. She noticed Peter's shoulders were slightly slumped and that Susan was rubbing her hand across his back as they walked, Lucy's right hand grasped in Peter's left. Edmund was now walking in front of them and leading the way to the car. Helen didn't know wether to be furious at the display she had just witnessed her son put on or be worried about his well being.

As she approached them to where they were leaning on the car, her mouth opened to either scold Peter or console him, which one she would end up saying she did not know. Right when she was about to speak Edmund shot her a glance that made whatever words that had formed die in her throat. She closed her mouth and looked at her second youngest with an astonished expression on her face, wondering how a single look from her son made her quiet but more importantly, why she had done it without question?

She glanced at Edmund once more and noticed a stern look dominating his face. Once again a strange feeling washed over her and she couldn't help but read into his expression a little more than she should, the words 'royalty' and 'kings and queens' once again danced in her brain. Once again, she shook her head and reprimed herself of thinking those silly notions, unlocked the car and motioned for the kids to get in, confused but understanding that now wasn't the time to address the situation at hand.

No one spoke on the ride home. 10 minutes into the journey, Helen turned on the radio to hopefully ease the tension that stifled the small space. In all honesty, she turned it on to avoid any awkward moments between her and the children and to have something to distract her on the tedious journey home.

Lucy had offered to sit in the passenger seat and Helen didn't object. Lucy didn't dance or sing along to any of the songs on the radio as she usually did. Instead, she leaned her elbow on the window ledge, a small frown lacing her lips as her unmoving eyes took in the scenery. Edmund, Peter and Susan squished into the middle row with Peter in between them. There was no doubt that it was a tight fit and they must've not been very comfortable but no one seemed to mind the cramped space, their bodies having practically no air between them with their shoulders and legs pressed tightly together.

Susan had her hand placed delicately on Peters thigh as she too like Lucy, took in the scenery outside the window yet her eyes were unmoving. Edmund had his head leaning on Peters shoulder. The first time she had seen him do this gave Helen a startled shock but she had quickly gotten used to all of her children's now physical behavior with one other.

As Helen looked into the rearview mirror and took in the scene displayed before her she couldn't help a pang of hurt from developing inside her as she wondered not for the first time today and certainly not for the first time since she had picked up the children from the train station; "Are they even my children anymore, let alone children? What happened to them in the country that they refuse to talk to me about?"

When Helen pulled into the driveway of their house since it's not really home to the siblings anymore is it, that's when Peter finally decided to say something for the first time since leaving the venue. As they got out of the car the rest of the siblings headed inside with slight nod to Edmund that he would follow shortly. Before Helen made her way to the front door Peter pulled his mother in for a hug.

Helen was not a very tall woman so Peter didn't need to strain himself too much to give his mother a proper hug. Startled by the abrupt display of affection directed towards her, it took Helen a moment before she wrapped her arms around Peter as well. Peter then pulled back and apologized for his actions and for ruining his mothers surprise. He said he didn't mean for his temper to get out of control and to shout at those men who were only doing their jobs. He promised to make it up to his mother soon and that he would learn to better keep his emotions in check.

When Helen asked the inevitable question of why Peter had acted the way he did, his face paled slightly, guilt laden in his eyes. His gaze shifted towards the ground for a moment before they eventually met hers again, his gaze now unwavering as he promptly told her that it reminded him of something that he'd seen in the country, but not to worry as he had it all sorted. Helen later blamed it on a trick of light when once again a flash of a broken adult, not child, appeared before her in that moment.

It was only because Helen saw beneath the broken mask Peter was desperately trying to keep firmly in place that she sighed and said alright. She didn't exactly know the reason why Peter had such a pained expression in his eyes but nevertheless, she pulled him into another hug. Not for the first time Helen whispered in his ear that if he ever needed to talk to someone she was there, and not for the first time Peter chuckled and promised that he would. They both secretly knew it would never happen.

Helen knew that she wouldn't find out the sole reason as to why Peter had reacted in such a manner that day and as she climbed into bed that night, she realized she never will. She realized that ever since her children came back from the country there were bound to be more instances where her children's motives would never be fully revealed to her. Peter's expression out in the driveway was proof of it.

Helen took into account the sadness she noticed in Peter's eyes and the noticeable weight that pressed firmly on his shoulders which is why she wasn't terribly harsh on him or pushed him to reveal anything he clearly wasn't comfortable talking about with her, even though that realization hurt her very much. Pain, even if not understood by everyone around them, was still pain, and she was not going to cause her son any more of it.

That did not mean she was going to let him go unpunished however, Peter still acted out in a crude manner in public and directed it towards other people. She grounded him for a week with dishes duty for every meal and with no electronics, but something told her Peter didn't really mind having to go without an electronic device for that long as he already did so anyways.

Helen also made note of not planning any more huge surprise trips like to the now off limits Medieval Times unless she was absolutely certain it was a place her children would enjoy going to or they had straight up told her they'd like to go there in the first place. In fact, she decided that from now on surprise trips or any huge surprises for that matter, were to be put on pause until further notice which probably meant forever.

No one got much sleep that night and if she heard three pairs of footsteps heading towards Peter's room in the middle of the night and hushed whispers for the rest of it, Helen made no implications that she had noticed at all the next morning at breakfast.

#SHE IS DONE #FINALLY THIS TOOK AGES IM CRYING TEARS OF JOY #this was supposed to be a short blurb but it turned into a monster idk how that happened #narnia #narnia headcanons #the chronicles of narnia #the pevensies #the pevensie siblings #mordern au #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie #peter pevensie #post narnia #tcon #narnia fic #king edmund the just #high king peter the magnificent #queen susan the gentle #queen lucy the valiant #post lww #prince caspian #voyage of the dawn treader #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #lww #pc #votdt #:navi writes

[blue-mood-blue]

No one asked about the eye.

It wasn't something Peter Nureyev even noticed that he'd noticed, just another unnecessary piece of information filed away in the back of his mind for use later if he needed it. He was doing his best to stay out of Juno Steel's way, after all, ensuring that they weren't stuck in a room together alone and forced to make stilted, polite conversation; he rarely had reason to spare extra energy in observing the way the rest of their strange band interacted with Juno.

When he caught a glance at Juno rubbing his eye one morning under the patch, shuffling past where Peter was seated at the table and nodding along to whatever tangent Rita was prattling away about behind him while obviously retaining nothing, the thought occurred to Peter again: no one ever asked Juno about his eye. It went mostly unremarked upon entirely, even when "family dinner" devolved into "taking cheap shots at each other."

Like as not it was just good manners, Peter decided as he shifted his attention back to the tablet in his hand. It would be in poor taste to pepper someone with questions about a serious, visible injury, and if Juno didn't bring it up it hardly fell to any of the rest of them to bring it up for him. And Juno had been without an eye for some time - if he wanted a cybernetic alternative, he could have gotten one long before now. He could have listed it with his other requirements for working with Buddy's crew, even. That was his own business.

No one said anything about the eye - asked any questions, voiced any concerns, made any offers - and Peter put it out of his head. Peter put it out of his head when Juno forgot his patch and still seemed surprised to find an empty socket, when Juno’s depth perception still suffered despite the time he'd had to get used to it, when Juno took emptied cans from a meal and lined them up outside whenever they were somewhere with enough gravity to make it worth his while and practiced his shooting.

Juno went wide every time. And every time, Peter remembered his precise shooting from before, and felt a pang in his chest.

"He isn't getting any better." Peter wasn't sure why he spoke up, and to Jet, who seemed absorbed with whatever he was doing to the Carte Blanche while Peter idly watched Juno practice. He hadn’t meant to say anything, it was the kind of pointless sentiment that was best left in Peter’s head if it had to be anywhere at all, and it was a small mercy that he’d said so softly enough that Jet had plenty of room to pretend he hadn’t heard.

"He is not," Jet replied.

Should have kept his mouth shut, Peter thought, while continuing to not keep his mouth shut. "It's concerning that he hasn't improved by now, considering when he lost the eye. He might never get that sharpshooting back."

"He might not," Jet agreed.

"He could consider getting it replaced - the technology exists." Just because it would make their work easier, Peter justified to himself. The only reason he cared about Juno Steel's sharpshooting was because it might be necessary to save their lives at some point. Otherwise, he would leave well enough alone.

There was no reply from Jet, and Peter assumed the man had finally decided that the conversation wasn't worth continuing. He was surprised, then, when he looked up and found Jet regarding him seriously, that steady gaze unwavering.

"I do not think Juno would want such a thing. I would advise you not to mention it to him." Before Peter had the chance to ask what he meant, to figure out how Jet could have come to that leap of a conclusion when he barely knew Juno and certainly hadn't been there when he'd lost the eye, Jet stood up, collected his tools, and went back inside.

Peter watched another wide shot, lost in thoughts that didn't get him anywhere.

~~~

It was late, and the Carte Blanche was quiet, and Peter didn't know why he was awake.

It might have been that the bed felt too empty; a startlingly vulnerable conclusion, since Juno didn't spend every night there even after their conversation, but there was no point denying the possibility. More likely that he'd heard something, and the ability to wake quickly had saved him too many times for him to easily put aside the habit now. When he didn't hear it again, he rolled to the far side of the bed and resolutely tried to fall back asleep.

Five minutes later, with a put-upon sigh, Peter dragged himself to his feet. The idea of the empty bed had wormed its way into his head and he couldn’t stop thinking about the cold, extra space. It was ridiculous and mortifying that he was actually considering knocking on Juno's door in the early hours of the morning to ask for a space in his bed; worse that he knew he wouldn’t, and that he would never get back to sleep now that he’d allowed himself to consider it. Might as well find a distraction, since he was up anyway.

He'd already passed the living area on his way to the kitchen when he stopped, a delayed reaction to something sending a chill down his spine, and slowly walked back in. It was dark - the faint lights of the hallway filtered in and mixed with the ambient light from the windows, giving only just enough illumination for Peter to find what unsettled him. There was someone in there, on the couch, sitting straight as a mannequin who’d been positioned that way and whispering something in a low, unnaturally steady thrum.

Peter froze in the doorway. It was Juno.

He didn't seem right; it was a vague conclusion that didn't do the pit in Peter's stomach justice, but it was a hard thing to define besides a sense of wrong. The muttering and the blank stare told him that Juno was probably sleepwalking, or something like it; the rigid way he was sitting and his sharp focus on nothing implied something else. He hadn't reacted at all to Peter passing through the room, to Peter walking right in front of him and right past that focused, unfocused stare, and he didn't react as Peter quietly walked closer.

"Juno?" Nothing. Not a twitch to indicate he'd heard, not so much as a pause between the stream of muttered, whispered words. Peter crept closer, sat slowly down next to him on the couch, and as he was reaching up to touch his shoulder he heard what Juno was saying.

“Goodness-is-the-only-purpose-I-have-little-potential-for-Good-therefore-I-am-worth-little-the-Tower-has-great-potential-therefore-it-is-great-"

It all felt deeply, deeply unsettling. It was Juno's voice but not his words; the cadence was even and emotionless and mechanic, as if something else were speaking through him with no concept of how to be Juno. Peter's hand stopped because suddenly, foolishly, he was afraid to attract the attention of whoever it was sitting next to him. And just as foolishly, he was afraid to leave Juno alone and lost.

"It's a dream, Nureyev," he muttered to himself, disgusted that a simple act of comfort was beyond him, even momentarily. Juno was trying, and what was Peter doing? Sitting next to him, unable to touch him, useless to him. Ridiculous. "Just wake him up and maybe you can both get some sleep."

"Boss?" Peter nearly jumped out of his skin, and he jostled Juno next to him; in his focus on listening to what Juno was saying, he hadn't heard Rita walk in. She was rubbing sleep from her eyes, looking between Peter and Juno. "Boss, you feelin’ okay?"

"-systems-are-beginning-to-fail-Emotional-Danger-Avoidance-Protocol-has-been-deactivated-request-received-diverting-remaining-processing-power-from-pain-numbing-functions-"

"Oh." Rita didn't seem confused. Concerned, though, in a quiet way that was so unlike her it made Peter wonder what happened to people on this ship at night to change them so thoroughly. Or perhaps, not on this ship at all. “You better leave this to me, Mista Ransom. I mean, you could try, but he probably wouldn’t remember you and it’d get pretty confusing.”

The pit of unease at the bottom of Peter’s stomach was widening, quickly. He stared at Juno. “He wouldn’t… remember?”

“He gets a little scrambled when he gets like this - it’s not really surprising after spending all that time with someone talking at him in his head all the time, you know, he told me about what it was like and I don’t think I’d like it myself, someone tryin’ to tell me what to do -“

“What… what are you...” Peter shook his head. Not important. It wasn’t important for him to understand right now, while his questions would only leave Juno stuck in his own mind longer. “Can you help him?”

Rita smiled at him reassuringly, as if the situation had not left her terrifyingly out of her depth. All the better, Peter thought faintly, as he continued to sit by and be useless. “Oh yeah, I got him. You can go to bed if you want.”

Peter shook his head. He would not be sleeping tonight, not until Juno was well. He could think about what his inability to leave meant later.

"Must've been a bad day if you're dealing with this again, huh?" She was talking to Juno and he wasn't hearing her, so she sat on his other side and tapped him on the shoulder. He didn't react. "Mista Steel, it's Rita. You remember me, right? Rita's gonna get you outta there, don't you worry, boss."

"Ri-ta." He pronounced it like the sound was something strange and foreign, like he was making a first attempt to say something he'd never tried before. “Rita. Rita. Rita Rita Rita Rita...”

Suddenly, Juno's head snapped to look at her. It was unsettling; someone who was asleep should have been slower to react, but the movement was unnaturally swift. He looked right at Rita, and this time when he spoke, he almost, horribly, sounded like himself. He was smiling. "The net Good of: save the Tower and bring peace to every human in the Galaxy. Outweighs the net evil of: killing every person in this room, one by one, until you reveal yourself."

Rita just took one of his hands and patted the back of it. "Okay boss, that's real nice and all, but I'm sitting right here. You don't gotta lure me out, and besides we're not even there right now and we haven't been for a long time now. If you really wanna get back at me the only thing you can do is fire me, and we both know you’d never actually do that because then where would you be?"

The silence was so much bigger after her chatter; there was a tension in her shoulders that she wasn’t letting show on her face. And then the tension in Juno collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, and Peter heard a beautiful sound. "Rita?" He sounded exhausted, but that was unmistakably and mercifully Juno’s voice. "What am I... doing on the couch?"

Rita's smile was big enough to light up the room - big and genuine and relieved. Peter wondered if she would ever explain what he'd just seen, and somehow he doubted it. "You promised to watch a movie with me and Mista Ransom, boss! And since you're awake now anyway and you always say you're too busy to watch a movie in the middle of the day I just thought we might as well watch something in the middle of the night instead, since all you're ever doing then is sleeping anyway -"

It didn't seem like he was keeping up very well with what Rita was telling him, but the mention of "Ransom" must have caught his attention because he turned around to confirm that Peter was there. Snapped out of whatever trap of his own mind he'd been caught in a moment earlier, Juno just looked tired; Peter reached for his other hand and gave it a squeeze, smiling in a way that he hoped masked his uncertainty. "Might as well watch something until we all fall asleep, hm?"

Peter wasn't sure if Juno was too tired to comprehend what either of them were talking about, or if he was just comfortable enough in their combined presence that it didn't matter that he didn't understand; whatever the reason, instead of answering either of them or asking any more questions he lay his head on Peter's shoulder and was almost asleep already by the time Rita got back with her tablet.

~~~

It was only a voice, robotic and designed to be soothing. The message calmly explained the steps of the security procedure before the event during the elevator ride, and Juno reached for Peter's hand.

His grip was tight and desperate, like a vice, but he wouldn't look over to Peter. He wouldn't explain if he could, wasn't allowed to explain here even if Peter was allowed to ask and they weren't already in their characters for the latest job. Juno wasn't ready to talk about it.

Peter squeezed his hand and took a step closer, disguised behind a subtle shift in his stance. "Just hold onto me, love," he muttered under his breath, hoping Juno could hear. "We'll make it through."

~~~

It was garbage television, what Peter finally settled on while he worked his way through an enormous bowl of ice cream in the preciously rare, quiet evening on the Carte Blanche. He'd probably have joined the festivities planetside if not for the badly-sprained ankle and cracked ribs, and he'd probably have been more upset about the whole thing had Juno not volunteered to stay with him. As it was, he allowed himself to enjoy the evening for exactly what it was - quiet and calm that he usually didn't get, and alone time with Juno with blissfully few expectations for either of them.

Juno had settled him in, placed the bowl and the remote in his hands, and kissed the top of Peter's head before promising that he'd be back in a minute. Peter took advantage of his absence to find something really awful to watch, fully planning to use his injuries as emotional manipulation if Juno started to complain. Remote privileges were rare in their strange little group.

He'd settled on a conspiracy program before Juno got back, a recent special set in Hyperion City - ought to be good for a laugh for Juno, too, who'd probably spend the entire time arguing with the host about everything she didn't know about the city he'd grown up in. Peter had seen the odd article about it circulating the tabloids - New Town, home of experimental brainwashing that no one could prove. As unlikely as it was interesting, far-fetched as it was entertaining.

Juno walked in as the theme started to play, already groaning. "I have no idea why you like this show. It's such a crock of shit and you know it." The criticism was tempered by good-natured laughter.

"Some of us like a good story well-told, Detective, even if it's not quite true." He smiled as he looked above him, where Juno was leaning over the couch... and stopped when he saw his expression. "Juno?"

Juno was staring at the tv, looking for all the world like he'd just seen a ghost. The program opened on a scene of former Mayor O'Flaherty, giving a speech about good to an awed and eagar public, specifically about creating a better home; Juno stared, so still and yet hanging on every word.

"Juno, dear? Are you... alright?"

He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Uh, what exactly are you watching?"

"That 'New Town' conspiracy, the one with the brainwashing." Juno didn't say anything, didn't seem to react in any way Peter could see. "Juno. Tell me what's wrong, please."

Juno rubbed at his eye, first over the patch and then under it, still watching the tv. The footage had changed from the speech to a dramatic shot of New Town's grand opening, played in slow motion with tense, swelling music to make the moment appropriately dramatic. "It's... nothing's wrong." He glanced down at Peter, and cracked an uneasy smile when he saw exactly how much Peter believed that. "Okay, nothing's wrong right now. It's just..."

"Just...?"

"A bad memory. A few bad memories."

Peter wasn't sure if he should ask, wasn't sure if he was allowed. Juno had put so much work into being open; wasn't it his part to respect the boundaries where they were, and to trust that Juno would talk to him when he was ready? They'd invested so much time and effort in building something that wouldn't collapse and hurt them both. So instead of pushing, he asks: "Sit with me?"

And when he does, Juno asks him: "Did I ever tell you how I met Buddy?"

When Juno starts his story, honest and well-told, Peter turns off the television to listen to him.

#the penumbra podcast #tpp #juno steel #peter nureyev #jupeter #tw trauma #SO UH #i’m not quite caught up yet but i angsted anyway? #of course my first fic-like thing is angst #i was just thinking about how peter knows exactly NONE of the theia stuff #and i wanted to play in that space #and i might play in that space again #but anyway apologies of something is wrong because i forgot something or i’m not caught up #i! did my best! and that is all i can do!

[ohmystars-marvel]

So...you’re mine, huh? pt. 2

Pairing: Tony Stark x daughter!reader; Peter Parker x reader (eventually)

Word count: 1,798

Summary: When your mother passes, she wrote in her will if she passed when you were still a minor, guardianship would get passed to Tony Stark. You have no idea what their relationship was, despite both of them living their lives in the spotlight. However, for someone who lived in the spotlight, your mother held plenty of secrets.

A/N: So um.....surprise!!! It’s finally here!!!!! I’m sososoSO sorry ;_; life’s been kind of rough and since I’ve been in uni it’s been hard to actually get time for myself, but I’ve finally actually gotten the time to sit down and write it out. I’m sorry it’s not that long, but I promise I won’t ghost like that again, but without further ado, here’s chapter 2!

(Also credits to owner of gif)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The funeral felt like everything was moving in slow motion. A couple of people came up to talk about (Y/M/N), and Tony noticed how whenever the people at the podium would give you a pitying glance in between their eulogies. The older man that was seating with you earlier isn’t sitting up front with you. He sits in a row behind you, leaving you all by yourself in the front. Tony also noticed how stoic you appeared to look. You sat with your head tall, your hair styled out of your face, tightly and professionally, evenly squared shoulders; the perfect sitting posture. 

A couple of people near him whispered about you. Some admired how composed you looked, just like your mother. Some whispered that you looked like you didn’t care that your mother passed, you just cared for the money that you were inheriting. Selfish brat someone whispered around Tony. 

She inherits all that her mother worked for without having to put any work ethic in

She isn’t going up to talk at her mother’s funeral? 

She does take after her mother after all..couldn’t give a care less that her parents died, why wouldn’t her daughter act the same way now? 

In Tony’s opinion, you didn’t look composed and neither looked like you didn’t care. You looked like a kid who was trying to hold it together in a room full of adults in order to be perceived as an adult. A child trying to act far more mature than their actual age.

When the funeral was over, people started getting up to either talk to you, or to talk to others around them. Disgusted with how people talked about you while a funeral was taking place, Tony walked over to talk to you instead. Besides, he felt that he needed to get to the bottom of how the hell (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) had a kid he knew nothing about. He also wanted to figure out whose kid you were. No kid should have to get through their only parent’s funeral alone.

When Tony walked over, you were finishing a conversation with one of the guests. Tony stuck his hand, reaching for a handshake. You accepted his handshake, and surprised him when it was a solid, firm one. Guess (Y/M/N) did teach you well.

“Ms. (Y/L/N). We haven’t had the chance to meet, and I wish it was under better circumstances. I’ve known your mother since we were children, and I know what a devastating loss it is now that she’s gone. I know you’re hearing this phrase more often than you’d like to right now, but please know when I say that if you ever need help, please do come to me. Stark Tower or Avengers Headquarters, you'll be accepted anywhere there.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. That’s very kind of you. I as well wish that we could’ve met under better circumstances. You’re kind of my hero, honestly. The advancements you’ve made with arc reactor technology is amazing.” (Y/N) admitted shyly, while sporting a small smile.

Tony analyzed your face. Jesus, it was like Tony was thrown back in time. I looked so much like your mother when she was much younger. That’s where the similarities stopped though. Your shy demeanor and politeness were honest reactions, no acting involved. Your eyes were also different from (Y/M/N)’s. (Y/M/N) looked at everyone like a certain degree of coldness, keeping people at a distance. Yours were gentle, inviting. There’s no way this kid can be hers. She’s nothing like her. 

“Mr. Stark,” you interrupted his thoughts, “I’m only telling a select group of people who actually knew my mother well. We told the public the coroners haven’t signed off yet. That, however, isn’t true, and we'll be doing a more private service. I want to give enough time for the press to leave, and for people who my mother claimed that ‘actually cared for her money, not her well-being to leave’. I’d like it if you were to join us.”

“Please, call me Tony. I’ll be there, Ms. (Y/L/N), don’t worry. Gives us all the chance to actually give your mother the goodbye that she deserves, don’t you think?”

You blinked at him, an expression of shock that briefly broke your composure. “Of course, Mr-” she caught herself when Tony smirked at her, and she smiled sheepishly. “sorry. Tony. It’s going to take me awhile. There’ll be an announcement that’ll be given for the burial service so please, stick around and chat. Please excuse me, I’ve got to greet the others who came as well. It was a real pleasure to meet you, Tony.” She bid him a small smile and left him standing by himself. 

When you left him, Tony went to grab himself a cup of water. While sipping on his water, the older man that sat next to you before the funeral approached Tony. 

“Mr. Stark, it’s a great pleasure to meet you. Though, I wish I would be meeting you right now at something like the Stark Expo.” 

Tony didn’t respond, but took another sip to avoid the small talk that the man was trying to achieve. The man cleared his throat. 

“Right then. Mr. Stark, I’m Philip Ashcraft, (Y/M/N)’s lawyer. Could we step out in the hallway and talk? (Y/M/N) left something important to you, and the both of us would very much rather have this conversation where someone can’t overhear.”

“You find a hallway during a private funeral? Let me guess, you wanna suggest the coat closet next? I mean I guess we can meet in there, but you have to promise no playing seven minutes of heaven-”

“Mr. Stark, please. It’s of the utmost importance.”

“Why don’t you take this up with my secretary, Mr. Ashcraft? They can schedule a meeting with you within this next week. After all, I am not in the mood to discuss business right now, considering that we’re currently at a funeral.” Tony took a sip of his water, raising an eyebrow at the lawyer.

“This isn’t something that can be pushed away! Mr. Stark, this is in regards to what (Y/M/N) has left for you, and her will states for you to receive her last wishes as soon as the funeral’s over.”

Tony sighed. “In case you haven’t noticed, (Y/M/N)’s funeral is not over. If whatever (Y/M/N) left for me is that important, then you can wait until after the burial service is over. That’s when the funeral is over and that’s when you will have my attention. Until then, kindly fuck off.”

The lawyer swallowed, clearly trying to keep his temper, and walked away, begrudgingly. Victorious, Tony walked away from the water pitcher and found himself an empty corner that no one else would bother him. Besides, he had some homework to start before (Y/M/N)’s burial service started. If he didn’t know anything about (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s existence, then how much did the rest of the world know about you?

Tony pulled his phone out of pocket, and pulled it close to his face, pretending like he was taking a phone call. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. I need you to do something for me really quick.” 

“What do you need, boss?”

“Look for anything in regards to (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I don’t care if it’s newspaper clippings, science fair photos, or even a mugshot. Anything that just proves her existence.”

“Looking online now. I’ll check back in with you when my analysis online is complete.”

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Tony mumbled to himself. He put his phone back in his pocket and decided to wait out the thirty minutes by himself.

******

Tony watched as time passed and those that were clearly not invited or were exhausted from trying to butt into (Y/N)’s business left the room. Tony saw that besides himself, you, that asswipe of a lawyer, and approximately two other people were invited to the service. He noticed that the one who told him who you were wasn’t included in the group. For some reason, that didn’t sit well with him.

The burial service went by just as smoothly as the service given inside. Tony noticed that when you placed flowers on the headstone, your eyes were glassy. So this was the group you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with, not terribly vulnerable, but enough to know that this clearly affected you. When the service finished, the two others were conversing with you, one holding one of your hands as you wiped your eyes delicately, clearly still trying not to cry. That’s the time that the lawyer decided to act. He put a hand on your shoulder, and whispered something in your ear. You nodded and went back to listening. The lawyer made his way to Tony, and opened his mouth to speak, but Tony beat him to the punch.

“Alright, bug-a-boo, now we can talk.” 

“Do you mind if we talk inside, Mr. Stark? I am required to have your signature.”

Tony sighed and made an after you gesture with his hand. “Christ, what is it that (Y/M/N) left behind that is so goddamn important that you have to dump on me at a funeral and require me to sign?” 

Ashcraft clenched his jaw, and opened the door to the funeral home and stalked into the room where the public service was held, Tony close behind. Ashcraft unlocked his briefcase, which held an envelope that was thick with papers. He pushed it into Tony’s hand with plenty of force.

“The thing that (Y/M/N) is ‘dumping’ on you is her child. She left guardianship claims on (Y/N) to you, Mr. Stark” Ashcraft said bitterly.

Tony hurried to open the envelope. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way you actually left your kid to him. It’s gotta be some kind of a joke. At least, that was what Tony tried to convince himself before he found a handwritten will that was in your handwriting. The last sentence is what made his heart drop in his chest.

In the case of my passing before (Y/N) can legally care for herself, I leave guardianship rights to Anthony Edward Stark.

Tony’s phone buzzed in his pocket. F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s search had been completed, and only included one document. Tapping on the document, it opened into a scan of your birth certificate. What drew Tony’s attention was the name that was entered for the father’s name. Tony softly scoffed to himself.

“So...you’re mine huh?”

#avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #tony stark #tony stark x daughter #tony stark x reader #Tony Stark fanfiction #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker

[grigori77]

Movies of 2023 - My Pre-Summer Rundown (Part 2)

The Top Ten:

10. SICK – Ultimately the year’s biggest horror cinema SURPRISE (so far, anyway) was also one of the year’s VERY FIRST standouts period, a brilliant little streaming sleeper from Peacock which snuck in under the radar but EFFORTLESSLY captured my attention AND the darker parts of my imagination. Best of all, though, it was SO COOL to see legendary revisionist horror screenwriter Kevin Williamson return to the “big screen” again after spending so long plying his trade on TV – I was VERY MUCH the target audience for Scream when it came out, I just ATE UP his delicious post-modern deconstruction of the slasher genre and its subsequent follow-ups (although Robert Rodriguez’ The Faculty, his fantastic take on alien invasion movie tropes, remains my very favourite of his offerings to date), even if it did lead to a fresh sub-genre which, paradoxically, became increasingly tired and toothless as the years progressed.  In the end, I think it’s probably A GOOD THING he took a step back – he just needed a chance to rethink things and find a fresh angle to come at the genre … and BY THE GODS has he ever found one with THIS.  Interestingly, for Williamson at least, the Pandemic couldn’t have come along at a better time, giving him fertile ground indeed in which to grow a particularly potent darkly comic slasher horror thriller which EASILY lives up to his masterworks.  Taking place in the early days of the original outbreak, when the first Lockdown was just starting, infection alerts and self-isolation were becoming a major thing and everybody was PANICKING over how much they really DIDN’T yet know about what was REALLY going on, the setting was already ripe for some pretty intense, chaotic storytelling … so adding a brutal serial killer with a penchant for killing off the idiots who flagrantly flaunted the COVID safety restrictions and purposefully went out of their way to pretend things were the same as normal was a damn slick move.  The main bulk of the narrative revolves around three college kids in some nondescript part of the US – Parker (Blockers and The Society’s Gideon Adlon), a well-off party girl who’s looking to make some major changes in her life, and her best friend Miri (up-and coming R&B artist Beth Million), who go to Parker’s family’s expansive country home to quarantine in comfort, and Parker’s newly-EX boyfriend DJ (Man of Steel and Teen Wolf’s Dylan Sprayberry), who turns up ostensibly to try and patch things up between them but may simply have come for a lucky hook-up – who are targeted by the killer who subsequently hunts them during a night of fraught tension, smartly staged stalk-and-slash set-pieces and a hefty dose of Williamson’s characteristic jet black-but-enjoyably geeky sense of humour, which is this time pitched to a particularly sharp edge of biting finger-on-the-pulse satire given the rich socio-political real-life material he’s able to mine here.  The small but extremely potent cast are all BRILLIANT, although the film really is DOMINATED by Adlon, who once again shows that she’s destined for GREAT THINGS INDEED in the future with a brilliant turn that runs an impressive gamut from irresponsibly entitled to vitally determined survivor once circumstances have fully driven her to take proper responsibility for all her childish behaviour, making for a compellingly sympathetic young heroine we find easy to start rooting for.  It probably helps the man behind the camera is John Hyams (All Square, Alone), son of legendary genre-hopping director Peter Hyams, who shows he’s definitely inherited his dad’s impressive skill by crafting a lean, tight and precise slice of horror cinema which takes full advantage of a tight budget and (mostly) a single location, which means the end result is a brilliant little comedy horror gem that I’d heartily recommend folk hunt down on streaming, or at the very least keep in mind for Halloween …

9. COCAINE BEAR – gods, if EVER there was a true story that seemed TAILOR MADE for cinema, it’s the bizarre tale of Cokey the Bear, AKA Pablo Eskobear, an American black bear that died after ingesting 34 keys of cocaine that were dumped out of a smuggler’s cargo plane over the Tennessee wilderness in 1985.  That being said, it’s not a huge surprise it’s taken Hollywood SO LONG to actually get it made, perhaps it’s just TOO CRAZY a concept for it to have been made before now.  Ultimately, the film takes A LOT of liberties with the truth to instead craft an entertaining story, but in the end that’s definitely the smart move, simply using the concept as a springboard to craft a gloriously batshit horror comedy with a JET BLACK sense of humour populated by an offbeat collection of quirky characters. Keri Russell stars as Sari, a nurse and single mother who has to brave the woods in order to find her young daughter Dee Dee (The Florida Project’s Brooklyn Prince), who’s playing hooky in the Chattahoochee-Oconee National Forest with her best friend Henry (Sweet Tooth’s Christian Convery) right when Cokey goes on a drug-fuelled homicidal rampage; meanwhile, recently bereaved widower Eddie (Solo’s Alden Ehrenreich) and his best friend Daveed (Straight Outta Compton’s O’Shea Jackson Jr.) are two drug cartel enforcers reluctantly scouring the area in search of their lost product at the behest of Eddie’s overbearing St Louis drug kingpin father Syd White (the late, great Ray Liotta, to whom the film is dedicated); and then there’s hapless but dogged Knoxville detective Bob (the venerable Isaiah Whitlock Jr.), who knows he can bust White if he can just get his hands on the evidence.  All three parties converge in the park while the bear wreaks merry havoc in Elizabeth Banks’ third film as a director (after Pitch Perfect 2 and the CRIMINALLY mistreated and overlooked Charlie’s Angels reboot), which looks like it might FINALLY get people to start taking her serious BEHIND the camera as well as IN FRONT of it – this is a proper laugh-riot of a film which is also delightfully non-PC, and it’s liberally peppered with impressively blood-soaked effects to thrill the gore-hounds as well as an impressively well-realised digital animal character in the eponymous drug-addled beastie.  The cast are brilliant too, Russell and Ehrenreich both particularly impressing in their respective nominal lead roles while the two kids are EXCEPTIONAL (particularly Convery, getting to overact as one of the most hyperactive-yet-not-irritating kids I’ve ever seen on screen), and it’s both enriching and a little bit heartbreaking to watch Liotta once again acting his socks off in one of his very last film roles; that being said, several of the scenes are thoroughly STOLEN by the irrepressible Margo Martindale, who’s clearly having the time of her life in one of her most gloriously OTT roles as foul-mouthed, much put-upon park Ranger Liz.  Ultimately this is a horror comedy where the balance is definitely tipped very much in favour of the laughs over the scares, but that’s fine, because with a concept this batshit bonkers we were always gonna find it too funny to ever be remotely scary, so the end result is one of THE FUNNIEST MOVIES I’ve run across in the cinema so far this year, gleefully revelling in its own inherent irreverence.  It’s just about the most fun you could ever expect it to be, which is what you’d want from a movie about a cocaine bear, really …

8. ANT-MAN & THE WASP: QUANTUMANIA – coming off the back of 2022’s decidedly hit-and-miss big screen slate for Disney and Marvel’s current flagship property, the Marvel Cinematic Universe, THIS year’s first MCU release had A LOT of eyes on it.  Gods know, I definitely has TWO OF ‘EM … and it probably wasn’t the best title to be laying all this weight on, either – the Ant-Man movies in particular have always been a bit of a marmite property within the larger universe, with as many detractors as fans, which definitely didn’t help things here.  If this turned out to be third time unlucky for Paul Rudd’s Scott Lang and the rest, it could spell much larger disaster for the MCU overall, or at the very least signify that the cracks are definitely growing beyond the studios’ capacity to patch ‘em up on the run.  So I’ll admit, I went into this one with a whole lot of trepidation … was it unwarranted?  Well, being completely honest … not ENTIRELY.  Tried-and-tested comedy director Peyton Reed’s Ant-Man films have always been a pretty mad collection anyway, as much a full-blown comedy sub-franchise as the Guardians of the Galaxy movies or Thor under Taika Waititi, but even so they still managed to keep ONE FOOT on the ground even while the rest was playing EXTENSIVELY in the Quantum Realm, but this one may just have finally jumped the shark.  Granted, part of this film’s particular OTT outlandishness and unabashed WACKINESS is down to narrative necessity – giving too much away plot-wise unfortunately runs the risk of dropping some MASSIVE spoilers, but it’s at least safe to say that the vast majority of the story takes place ENTIRELY in the Quantum Realm this time, and it’s a place which is A WHOLE LOT DIFFERENT from anything we might have imagined from our very brief visits in Ant-Man & the Wasp and Avengers Endgame.  For a start, it’s A WHOLE LOT BIGGER than we thought it was, and MUCH more heavily populated by some truly WEIRD SHIT … the film also has some major heavy-lifting to do with regards to setting up the Big Bad for Phase 5 and 6 both – Kang the Conqueror (The Last Black Man In San Francisco and Creed III’s Jonathan Majors), a Multiverse-based Thanos level threat we first encountered (sort of) in 2021’s runaway hit first season of Loki.  Thankfully, this at least is one of the areas in which the movie definitely SUCCEEDED – Majors IMMEDIATELY makes his presence keenly felt as one of the franchise’s most interesting and effective supervillains, a near God Tier Bad Guy who’s clearly gonna give the whole Avengers roster a run for their money when they finally come face to face with him (in whatever form this ultimately takes).  The plot, such as it is, is pure scrambled bananas, a heavyweight mindfuck it’s best to just DISENGAGE and go with to get proper enjoyment out of – this is definitely a cinematic GUILTY PLEASURE, and trying to take it even remotely seriously immediately draws the eye to a thousand gaping plot-holes and glaring narrative stumbles.  At least the patented stunning, primary coloured visuals, winning sense of humour and cavalcade of delightfully wacky set-pieces (the clone-spawning “probability explosion” sequence is a particularly overblown, super-trippy highlight with an unexpected tear-jerk factor built in) are all fully functional and behaving correctly, and the thoroughly endearing cast all deliver admirably without a single off-note hint of miscasting – Rudd and Evangeline Lilly (returning as Hope van Dyne AKA the titular Wasp) are both pitch perfect as always, while it’s nice to see Michael Douglas and PARTICULARLY Michelle Pfeiffer getting to do a whole lot more this time round as Hank Pym and Janet van Dyne, and the glaring Michael Pena-shaped hole is ALMOST filled by a few other quality comedic turns from the likes of deadpan laugh-MASTER Bill Murray and David Dastmalchian (here returning in a VERY interesting vut also very DIFFERENT role to what we’ve seen from him here before), as well as a surprise returning face (ahem) from the franchise’s past.  Meanwhile, alongside Majors there are some other similarly noteworthy series newcomers who make BIG IMPRESSIONS, from Z Nation and The Mandalorian’s Katy O’Brien (who’s been an growing favourite of mine for a little while now), who’s a completely EPIC badass I wanna see A LOT more of in the future as hard-nosed Quantum freedom fighter Jentorra, to Kathryn Newton (Supernatural, Freaky), making the role of Scott’s now (pretty much) full-grown daughter Cassie ENTIRELY her own, and she’s clearly got a MAJOR future ahead of her in the MCU herself now she’s started carving out her own super-powered secret identity. The movie may be another flawed, somewhat unwieldy and occasionally downright CLUNKY beast, but the franchise is definitely still managing to stand up, and compared to the likes of Thor: Love & Thunder and Black Panther: Wakanda Forever it definitely holds up a good deal better in its own right.  Most of all, though, it’s A WHOLE LOT of pure, unadulterated FUN, which is ultimately exactly what you want from a big primary-coloured superhero blockbuster.  With the arrival of the new (and, apparently, FINAL) Guardians of the Galaxy movie now imminent, it still remains to be seen if the MCU can be clawed back from the brink it’s still teetering perilously on the edge of, but this, despite all that’s still wrong with it, is at least a VERY SMALL step back in the right direction again …

7. THE PALE BLUE EYE – largely sneaking in under the radar on Netflix to start the New Year off, the latest offering from highly acclaimed indie writer-director Scott Cooper (Crazy Heart, Black Mass, Antlers) is, much as we’d likely expect from such a consistently varied, genre-hopping filmmaker, a strange, unique and deeply intriguing beast of a film.  Adapted from Louis Bayard’s well-received speculative fiction novel about a young Edgar Allan Poe aiding the investigation of a bafflingly macabre murder in the US Military Academy at West Point in the early 1830s.  Christian Bale returns with typical stoic, intense and magnificently brooding megawatt presence for his THIRD leading man tour of duty for Cooper (after Out of the Furnace and Hostiles) as Augustus Landor, a former West Point graduate-turned misanthropic former detective brought in to lead the investigation into the brutal hanging and evisceration (with additional heart-removal) of a young cadet that’s baffling the faculty and local police, which is soon compounded when additional bodies start piling up.  He’s aided in his endeavours by another cadet, the young Poe himself (played to PERFECTION by Harry Potter’s own Harry Melling, continuing his meteoric and deeply impressive rise to prominence with another TOUR-DE-FORCE performance here), while the clues lead to a variety of deeply troubling twists and revelations as well as an intriguing collection of suitably odd and often highly charismatic characters played by the sterling likes of Lucy Boynton, Toby Jones, Simon McBurney and a fascinatingly unusual turn from Robert Duvall, although the real standout here is a truly MAGNIFICENT career-best performance from Gillian Anderson.  Cooper piles on the story’s doom-laden gothic atmosphere to great effect throughout while cranking up the slow-burn and deeply uncomfortable suspenseful tension throughout, while the plot is nothing short of MACHIAVELLIAN in its levels of ingenious labyrinthine intelligence, dropping an ultimate denouement that you really have to be paying SERIOUS ATTENTION to see coming, and the production design, costumes, period detailing and, most of all, the thoroughly MOODY bleak-midwinter cinematography make for a freezing cold but thoroughly rewarding feast for the eyes for the more discerning film-fanatic.  Altogether Cooper’s delivered another winner, and I hope he continues to make films this good well into the future.

6. SHAZAM: FURY OF THE GODS – it’s interesting that, at least on here, the DC Cinematic Universe (AKA the DCEU) is currently WINNING OUT over the MCU, especially given the recent MAJOR upheavals that are now rocking the franchise as a whole (and look set to continue well into the remainder of this year and beyond).  Not least because, technically, once The Flash hits cinemas and the Universe essentially gets hit with a Hard Reset under the guidance of new DC Studios CEO James Gunn, none of this even MATTERS any more going forward … certainly this fact has NOT been lost on cinemagoers, who were already starting to pull back when Black Adam came out late last year and subsequently seemed content to STAY AWAY IN DROVES for this one, likely waiting to give it a go in the privacy and safety of their own homes once it hit streaming.  In a way this sounded a pre-emptive death knell for the DCEU which I’m genuinely sceptical about it recovering from … which is a shame, because 2019’s Shazam! was one of the franchise’s BEST FEATURES, a gleefully anarchic post-modern deconstruction of the overblown superhero antics the franchise largely glorified before while never taking itself particularly seriously but simply playing it with just the right amount of knowing wink-and-nod.  Even more of a shame, then, that this has proven to be SUCH a performance TURKEY, because it’s JUST AS GOOD as the first one, taking all of the lessons that were learned from the first movie to heart and delivering more of everything that really WORKED once more, even while trying something new and fresh at the same time to expand on this little corner of the Universe with impressive aplomb and consummate skill.  Returning director Drew Sandberg (Lights Out, Annabelle: Creation) once again delivers in HIGH STYLE and customary spooky flair as he and returning screenwriter Henry Gayden (Earth To Echo, There’s Someone In Your House), along with Fast & Furious franchise lynchpin scribe Chris Morgan, expand on the adventures of coming-of-age young hero Billy Batson (Andi Mack’s Asher Angel) and his (still unnamed) superpowered alter ego (Zachary Levi), alongside his now similarly gifted teenaged foster siblings, as the Daughters of Atlas – Hespera (Helen Mirren), Kalypso (Lucy Liu) and Anthea (Rachel Zegler), a trio of immensely powerful but (somewhat) morally dubious classical Greek goddesses – come to claim their powers for their own in order to rejuvenate the Tree of Life and punish Mankind for its wickedness. The usual existential high stakes, then. Angel and Levi are, once again, ON FIRE here, the former star of Chuck in particular once again proving what an undisputable comedic MASTER he is while they both deliver MAGNIFICENTLY in the dramatic moments too, while their returning co-stars and sterling veteran support are once again just as great as before, It’s Jack Dylan Grazer particularly getting to really SHINE this time round in a particularly WEIGHTY role that nonetheless once again manages to utilise his own impressive comedic talents to full effect too, while it’s also GREAT to see This Is Us’ Faith Herman get a much more expanded role this time round as the irrepressible Darla; Djimon Hounsou, meanwhile, also gets a lot more to do as he returns as the enjoyably crabby and pompous Wizard Shazam, who’s none too happy with Billy for breaking the staff last time round and setting this all off in the first place. The Daughters, meanwhile, are FANTASTIC antagonists, Liu and Mirren clearly enjoying the opportunity to be flamboyant, majestic and over-the-top in proper Shakespearean style, while Zegler invests “Anne” with a good deal more moral fibre and complexity as the most sympathetic (and ultimately conflicted) of the trio.  Sandberg and co again deliver IN SPADES on the action, atmospherics, gorgeously exotic design and sheer creativity which made the first movie such an unexpected treat, while also delivering more of that winning, sometimes downright SCREWBALL BONKERS humour to keep it entertaining and let you know that, just like its predecessor, this film knows FULL WELL how ridiculous it is and is fully prepared to just OWN IT.  The end result is, once again, one of the best of the current slate of DCEU films, and it just makes it even sadder to think that they’re likely not gonna continue with this once the franchise reboots.  Gods know it don’t bode too well for The Flash, Blue Beetle or Aquaman & the Lost Kingdom, which is a shame cuz they also look pretty promising …

5. EVIL DEAD RISE – sometimes you just can’t keep a good franchise down, and that’s ALWAYS been the case with the Evil Dead movies. That being said, each movie has always happily been its own thing too, so even when Sam Raimi was making his original trilogy they were all movies you could easily pick up and watch as a standalone without needing to see the others too (although it was well worth doing it).  Better, though, is the fact that every offering so far has been consistently GREAT, even 2013’s sort-of reboot from Don’t Breathe and The Girl In the Spider’s Web writer-director Fede Alvarez, which did a genuinely spectacular job of bringing the franchise kicking and screaming into the new Millennium while also delivering something which was unapologetically old school in the very best way.  Thankfully this is definitely the way that the latest writer-director, relative newcomer Lee Cronin (The Hole In the Ground), has decided to do things, although he’s also taking this newly-rebooted story in a fresh new direction with a MAJOR setting change as the Deadites are, for the first time (at least on the BIG screen) unleashed in the big inner city.  It’s a bold move, but certainly has the instant charm of doing something we’ve never seen before, bringing the claustrophobic madness of the originals into a very different but equally close-quarters environment as we’re now seeing the demonically possessed monsters terrorising their victims in tiny apartment rooms, cramped corridors and malfunctioning elevators which make for a whole host of new opportunities to change up the scares, the action and the delivery of the thoroughly skewed plot.  Best of all, this is BY FAR the most female-centric film in the franchise to date, making for a much more interesting and far less testosterone-heavy atmosphere this time around as the women get to take the lead far more than they did in the previous movies.  The gods know that’s VERY MUCH my shit right there … Vikings’ Alyssa Sutherland is a veritable FORCE OF (UN)NATURE as Ellie, the downtrodden single mother trying to keep her three kids and her whole life from going off the rails until she’s taken over by the Evil when her calamitously foolish young wannabe DJ son Danny (Storm Boy and The End’s Morgan Davies) finds and reads from the Book of the Dead, while Picnic At Hanging Rock’s Lily Sullivan is endearingly vulnerable and fallible but ultimately steely as her Ellie’s estranged kid sister Beth, who comes home in a bad spot just in time to get thrown into the middle of the ensuing chaos; Gabrielle Echols (Reminiscence) and Nell Fisher (Northspur), meanwhile, are both similarly exceptional and thoroughly memorable as Ellie’s teen and pre-teen daughters Bridget and Kassie. The majority of the action plays out in the impressively squalid confines of the newly-condemned apartment building, turning uncomfortably familiar surroundings into downright TERRIFYING nightmarish hellscapes as the horrors unfold within, Cronin pulling out every trick in the book to deliver a knuckle-whitening scare-fest that skilfully works its way under your skin and grips your heart tight enough to make it explode with sheer anxiety, and, like every one of its predecessors, he has managed to pull it all off with the absolute BARE MINIMUM of digital assistance, this film representing another resounding triumph for spectacularly NASTY physical effects.  This is DEFINITELY the scariest thing I’ve seen so far in what’s ALREADY proven to be a genuinely GREAT YEAR for horror cinema, but more than that it’s ENTIRELY lived up to its legacy, earning its place in one of the greatest horror franchises of ALL TIME with pride.  I look forward to seeing what Cronin does next, and I can’t wait to see what the series is gonna throw at us next, either …

4.  PUSS IN BOOTS: THE LAST WISH – my current top animated feature for 2023 is an interesting one because, while I am a MASSIVE fan of Dreamworks Animation Studios’ output in general and the Shrek films in particular, I have to admit that the FIRST standalone spinoff featuring Antonio Banderas’ awesome fairy-tale character left me somewhat underwhelmed … yes, I know, it’s a travesty, STONE ME!!!  I know I deserve it … but really, even with Salma Hayek on board it just didn’t reach the same levels of sheer unadulterated COOL that the Shrek movies did for me.  So I approached the EXTREMELY belated follow-up with a definite sense of trepidation, despite the intriguing new animation style makeover that’s clearly HEAVILY inspired by the recent success of the first Spider-Verse movie and the massive anticipation for its incoming sequel.  It looks GORGEOUS, but as we’ve learned to our cost over the years with this kind of filmmaking, looks DO NOT always automatically mean it’s gonna be a belter.  Thank the gods, then, that I was proven wrong THIS TIME … yup, for his sophomore spinoff movie, Puss FINALLY got a vehicle he could truly be PROUD OF.  It’s got a BRILLIANT premise about it which PERFECTLY fits with the amount of time that’s passed since the first one, and definitely means that the older fans among us (like myself) can definitely find A LOT to resonate with in terms of the themes here – Puss discovers that he’s only got ONE of his nine lives left and it sends him into a DEEP existential crisis as he realises that he’s pretty much WASTED much of the time he had, and technically that means he’s only got ONE CHANCE left to truly be alive.  So he abandons his riotous adventurer lifestyle and “retires” as a lapcat for one SERIOUSLY weird cat-lady, Mama Luna (High Fidelity’s Da’Vine Joy Randolph) … only for his past to catch up to him in the form of a quartet of bounty hunters, Goldilocks (Florence Pugh) and the Three Bears (Ray Winstone, Olivia Colman and beloved up-and-coming British comic Samson Kayo).  This prompts Puss to escape onto the road for one final adventure reuniting with his long-lost love Kitty Softpaws (Salma Hayek), who’s none too happy to have him back in her life after he abandoned her at the Altar, as well as a deeply odd new companion, Perrito (What We Do In the Shadows’ Harvey Guillen), a diminutive therapy dog who was masquerading as one of Luna’s cats, as they set out in search of the Wishing Star, a fallen star that can grant whoever finds it their heart’s desire, which means Puss could get his other Eight Lives back.  Except that they’ve still got the bounty hunters on their trail, along with (now decidedly) Big Jack Horner (John Mulaney), a magic-item collecting entrepreneur who has a score to settle with Puss which definitely coincides with his fervent desire to claim the Star for himself, and a mysterious Wolf (the irresistibly silky tones of Narcos’ Wagner Moura) who may actually be Death Himself, who has his own, much darker reasons for finding Puss.  Y’know how they say you judge a hero by the strength of the villains he faces?  Well with antagonists of THIS calibre, Puss just might have finally met his match … and even better, EVEYTHING ELSE about this movie is as strong as its villains – it’s one of the most well-written, well-directed and deeply, affectingly resonant movies that Dreamworks have EVER DONE, EASILY on a par with the rest of the Shrek canon and even matching up impressively well with the true Gold Standards like Kung Fu Panda and the How To Train Your Dragon movies, everyone involved in this project clearly giving it their all in a total labour of pure, unadulterated LOVE that pays VAST dividends on the screen.  The cast, of course, are among the greatest key ingredients in this, and as we’ve come to expect from these movies they’re all pulling their weight MAGNIFICENTLY – Guillen and Mulaney in particularly deliver SPECTACULARLY in their respective roles, while Pugh and her cohorts are at once hilariously good fun but also elevate their characters FAR ABOVE their one-note bad guy potential thanks in no small part to some VERY intelligent, well-rounded and deeply complex character development from the writers, but in the end the main weight of the film OF COURSE rests on the shoulders of Banderas and Hayek, and once again they’ve both proven they are MUCH MORE than capable of bearing it with grace, professionalism and a glorious evergreen twinkle in their eyes.  As for the animation and design, this is a BEAUTIFUL piece of work, definitely one of the year’s most visually arresting films as well as, quite simply, one of the most gorgeous films that Dreamworks have ever put together, the studio effortlessly adapting to the sexy new style that made Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and Netflix’ Arcane such glorious feasts for the eyes, and the animation team deserve JUST AS MUCH praise as director Joel Crawford, a storyboard veteran who previous proved his helming pedigree in fine style with 2020’s wonderfully oddball The Croods: A New Age.  Ultimately, given the storyline, themes and the way the film ties things off so neatly, I suspect this really will be the last we see of Puss In Boots on the big screen, but if that really is the case then I gotta admit it’s ONE HELL of a swansong …

3.  RENFIELD – my current horror movie of the year sits very comfortably in the genre’s sub-category that I’ve always loved best, a horror comedy of particularly rare quality and gleeful abandon that made it one of the best and most entertaining viewing experiences I’ve had so far this year.  Yeah, like the best horror comedies it has enough genuine darkness that it CAN be genuinely scary when it wants to be, but by the sheer (literal) batshit craziness of its premise this is a BONKERS FILM, and so it wisely embraces its sheer lampoonery to full effect by delivering one of the most deliciously dark black comedies I’ve seen in a good while.  Not that it’s overly surprising – director Chris McKay cut his teeth helming The Lego Batman Movie before branching out into live action with Amazon’s criminally underrated time travelling alien invasion blockbuster The Tomorrow War, both of which were excellent vehicles for him to master the gloriously anarchic style that he finally unleashes fully formed for this brilliant alternative sequel to the classic Universal Dracula movie with Bela Lugosi.  That being said, the big box office draw here was always going to be Nicolas Cage, who replaces Lugosi as the infamous Count, clearly kicking into his typical “manic” setting here to chew the scenery with ruthless abandon and, as a result, frequently steal the show right out from under Nicholas Hoult as his titular ghoul manservant, the long-suffering Robert Montague Renfield, who just wants the opportunity to finally find a real, simple life for himself and thinks he can pull it off in modern day New Orleans, only for his Master to himself become inspired by Renfield’s newfound ambition and set his sights on world domination with the help of the Lobos, a brutal local crime family.  Thankfully Hoult DOES ultimately manage to hold his own in his scenes with Cage, like always proving ADEPTLY talented enough to deliver another winningly endearing performance while playing perhaps the single most pathetic specimen of his career to date … meanwhile the thoroughly adorable Awkwafina once again proves that she’s well on the way to becoming the PREMIER kooky goofball female comedic lead in Hollywood as Rebecca Quincy, the one truly honest cop in one of the most corrupt police forces in all of America, who winds up falling for Renfield’s hangdog charm and puppy-dog eyes as he inadvertently becomes the key to her quest to bring down the Lobos after they murdered her legendary detective father.  Shohreh Aghdashloo brings a much needed touch of class to proceedings as Bellafrancesca Lobo, the family’s seductively sly matriarch, while Space Force and Sonic the Hedgehog’s Ben Schwarz is a frequent non-PC laugh riot all on his own as her entitled constant disappointment of a son Teddy, and Ghosts’ Brandon Scott Jones is lovably flaky as the leader of Renfield’s endearingly pathetic support group for people trapped in toxic co-dependent relationships.  This genuinely is a DEEPLY FUNNY FILM, perfectly geared up for a maximum hit count with the one-liners, in-jokes and situations, but then there’s no surprise here since writer Ryan Ridley (adapting a pitch from The Walking Dead’s original creator Robert Kirkman) is a seasoned veteran of TV comedy, particularly well known as an alumnus of the similarly edgy and madcap Rick & Morty, and this carries a lot of the same twisted, anarchic charm as that rightly beloved series, just in a much more big budge live action form on the big screen.  It’s also SPECTACULARLY bloodthirsty when it wants to be, the welcome reliance on what are clearly LARGELY physical effects meaning that this movie is another gore-hound’s wet dream, even if the film does mostly play the horror elements for laughs throughout, and it’s an impressively inventive and chaotic beast in THAT regard too, delivering some of the most gloriously OTT splatter-fuelled action sequences I’ve seen in a good while whenever Renfield eats a bug and gets an ultraviolent power boost.  Altogether this is definitely some of the most fun I’ve had at the cinema so far this year, and I’ll admit I wouldn’t mind a bit more of this …

2. JOHN WICK CHAPTER 4 – and so, it has come to this … honestly, who’d have thunk it, back in 2014 when the first movie came out and (rightly) became a surprise sleeper hit that went a long way to revitalising Keanu Reeves’ career for a SECOND TIME as he found THE GREATEST ROLE HE’S EVER HAD, that almost a decade later it would’ve blown up into something THIS BIG?!!!  I mean sure, back then it definitely was The Little Movie That Could, but still … well, after two increasingly BIG sequels which each maintained a surprisingly impressive level of quality throughout, the fourth and final John Wick chapter is finally here, and GODS is it good.  I mean it’s FUCKING BRILLIANT.  It just might be THE BEST ONE YET.  Certainly it’s proving to be the most well received, landing BY FAR the best rating on Rotten Tomatoes and it genuinely seems like almost nobody has ANYTHING bad to say about this movie, even the CRITICS largely seem to LIKE this one. And it deserves every lick of love it’s been getting, this is definitely both the pinnacle of the series AND a perfect swansong for the greatest assassin in cinema history.  I don’t wanna give too much away about the plot, even those who HAVE seen what’s come before don’t deserve to be spoiled since, even if these movies have never exactly been SHAKESPEARE in their construction they do still frequently leave you guessing in the best ways as to how they’ll turn out, and this one definitely is no exception.  I’ll just say that, after all the killing John’s done to get to this point, his one-man-war with the international criminal network’s High Table has finally reached his zenith when Winston (the great Ian McShane), the Manager of the newly-demolished Manhattan Continental Hotel, gives him the means to finally find a way to get out and find peace while he’s still alive – namely by challenging the Marquis Vincent de Gramont (It’s Bill Skarsgard), a high-ranking Table member who’s taken it upon himself to rid the criminal underworld of the “cancer” that John and his constant disrespect have wrought, to single combat in a ritualistic duel in order to take his place at The Table should he win.  The subsequent battle that ensues as John sets about facilitating this duel and the fallout that follows as he fights his way to that final, fateful meeting fuels the film in HIGH STYLE, so that even though this movie’s almost THREE HOURS LONG it never feels overlong or outstays its welcome.  Once again the cast are all ON FIRE, Reeves once again proving that he is just about THE BEST LOOKING and most interesting action star working in Hollywood today when he’s mowing down endless bad guys with a stoic expression and the odd deadpan response, the role once again VERY MUCH playing to his strengths, while McShane and Laurence Fishburne (returning once again as the dethroned Bowery King) are both on fine form throughout, while it’s both a pleasure and privilege but also a genuine heartbreaking SHAME to watch the late Lance Reddick deliver one of his very last performances as Charon, the noble and quietly charismatic Concierge of the Manhattan Continental (at least he also shot one more turn as the character for the upcoming Ana de Armas-starring spinoff feature Ballerina, so it’s not QUITE the end); meanwhile the newcomers all serve admirably as well, with Skarsgard particularly impressing as one of the franchise’s best villains to date, slimy, entitled and exquisitely arrogant, the kind of Big Bad you just LOVE to hate, Wynnona Earp’s Shamier Anderson is a delightful revelation as Mr Nobody, a precocious up-and-coming hitman talent who certainly has a whole lot of potential for a possible future spinoff franchise of his own within this larger universe, Donnie Yen excels as usual as Cain, a former friend of John’s that the Marquis brings out of forced retirement in order to take the unkillable Baba Yaga out (clearly the filmmakers saw his blind badass take in Rogue One and they were like yeah, let’s have a whole lot more of THAT), Hiroyuki Sanada once more delivers effortless class and cool gravitas as Koji, the honourable and principled Manager of the Osaka Continental, and Scott Adkins is viciously impressive but also thoroughly surprising in an almost unrecognisable prosthetic getup as Killa Harkan, the brutish Head of the High Table in Berlin.  In the end, though, we’re once again here primarily to MARVEL at all the action exploits on display while wallowing in some of the richest and most well-crafted world-building there’s EVER BEEN on the big screen – this is a thoroughly fascinating universe, realised with exquisite precision with so many cool little winks and nods and in-jokes to make the geeks among us grin and chuckle with sheer joy over the immense bounty on display, while veteran stuntman-turned-director Chad Stahelski once again wrangles some of the VERY BEST cinematic action EVER COMMITTED TO FILM in a series of truly astonishing and thoroughly punishing set-pieces bravely executed with nary a visual effect in sight.  There are almost TOO MANY cool action beats in this movie to count, although the final BIG sequence, in which John fights his way up the spectacular but infamously punishing Stairs of Montmartre in Paris against an endless onslaught of thugs all determined to not let him reach the top, which includes one of the BIGGEST belly laughs I have EVER HAD at the cinema in my life, as much just over the joke’s sheer, ingenious AUDACITY, has to be the film’s undeniable highlight (closely followed by a genuinely INSANE run/gun/drive chase/shootout/fight sequence through the sheer chaos of the traffic around the Arc de Triomphe – every single one of these sequences is thrilling, they’re adrenaline fuelled and each is crafted with such precision but also such brilliant varied inventiveness that it NEVER leads to vicarious battle fatigue.  Best of all, though, as with the previous film’s there’s a surprising amount of soul and heart and heft to the film too, which ultimately leads to a climax which is both immensely satisfying but also pretty devastating in its emotional power.  Altogether then, this is EASILY my action movie of the year, I really can’t see that changing, as well as a fitting climax to an action cinema franchise which has come to SET THE BENCHMARK for the entire genre, and, honestly, just a damn fine movie in its own right.

1. DUNGEONS & DRAGONS: HONOUR AMONG THIEVES – so what, then, could POSSIBLY have beaten John Wick Chapter 4 to the top spot?  If you’d asked me that at the year’s start I DEFINITELY wouldn’t have thought it could be THIS … I mean SURE, I love D&D as much as the next geek, but even so this felt like SUCH a shameless cinematic cash-grab from Wizards of the Coast and Disney (producing through Paramount) that I felt there was NO WAY it could REALLY be an actual GOOD FILM.  At best I was expecting to be mildly entertained by a serviceable guilty pleasure, something that’s good for a Saturday night-in with a pizza and a six pack, not a genuine MASTERPIECE of cinematic adaptation.  And yet, it turns out that’s EXACTLY what we got here – this is a film which is ONE HUNDRED PERCENT clearly made with the utmost love and respect for the source material because the only possible interpretation for the way they wrote this was by taking Player’s and Dungeon Master’s handbooks, a Monster Manual, some character sheets and a few dice bags and just turning the mini-campaign that ensued into a two-hour screenplay.  It’s clear that they are heavily steeped in love and knowledge of the game itself, or were at least CONSTANTLY advised by experts who are, because this movie is AT EVERY STEP a pretty much PERFECT representation of the Forgotten Realms setting, the bestiary and even the game mechanics themselves IN ACTION, and it EVEN colours the way that the plot is laid out, how the characters interact and how some of the action sequences go.  (Seriously – a perfectly executed knockout on a knife-wielding hostage taker with a hurled potato?  That’s the Barbarian’s player landing a Natural 20 Critical Hit on their Attack Roll.  It love it.) Sure, the results are likely to INFURIATE some people who think a little too highly about how FORMALLY WRITTEN their cinema is, but for most folk this actually makes for a refreshingly honest and pretty unique piece of cinematic storytelling that actually works DAMN NEAR PERFECTLY from start to finish.  It also helps that the writer-director duo in charge here are a pair of stalwart comedy movie veterans, namely Jonathan Goldstein and John Francis Daly of Horrible Bosses, Vacation and Spider-Man: Homecoming fame, whose previous directorial collab Game Night actually likely provided a useful throughline for them to get into tackling this one.  The main cast of dysfunctional heroes that we follow through the story are even put together like a typical motely crew of player characters – Chris Pine once again proves that he’s at his best when he’s doing broad comedy, thoroughly delightful as self-centred, opportunistic roguish Bard Edgin Darvis, who, along with his platonic partner, tough-but-fair and sweetly naïve Barbarian warrior Holga Kilgore (played to absolute PERFECTION by Michelle Rodriguez in what’s UNDOUBTEDLY the best role she’s ever had, and definitely my FAVOURITE character here), enlists the help of bumbling, neuroses-riddled half-elf Sorcerer Simon Aumar (Detective Pikachu’s Justice Smith, twitchy, unsure of himself and UTTERLY adorable) and shape-shifting Tiefling Druid Doric (It’s Sophia Lillis, forthright, dependable and immediately done with all of Edgin’s shit) to help them knock over the accumulated fortune of their one-time colleague, Rogue-turned-nobleman Forge Fitzwilliam (Hugh Grant once again expertly bringing home the scheming sleaze persona he’s perfected in more recent years now he’s finally said goodbye to his earlier days as an upper class heartthrob) and foil the dastardly machinations of the monstrous undead Red Wizard Sofina (a genuinely chilling and unsettling turn from Shadow & Bone’s Daisy Head); meanwhile there’s a top-notch supporting cast of “DM-controlled NPCs” that help the story roll and breathe as effortlessly as the main stars, from Bridgerton’s Rege-Jean Page as deliciously dry Paladin Xenk Yendar, the obviously-overpowered PC from another campaign that the DM brings in to help the party out when things go COMPLETELY WRONG for them, and Chloe Coleman (Gunpowder Milkshake) as Edgin’s estranged young daughter Kira, to Bradley Cooper in a truly INSPIRED and genuinely hilarious cameo as Holga’s decidedly diminutive ex-husband Marlamin.  Every single one of these is a well-rounded, living-and-breathing vital person in their own right, and the writers have crafted them and their misadventures with proper precision throughout, while the world has been realised with genuine skill and clear loving attention to detail, as well as, yet again, a welcome reliance on real sets and locations and good old fashioned physical make-up and animatronics over pure digital effects wherever possible. There are some pretty spectacular action sequences on offer here (the Underdark sequence with a decidedly overweight dragon is a particular highlight, although my personal favourite has to be the scene in which Doric has to pull off an unexpected escape by Wildshaping between different animal forms, all unfolding in a spectacular unbroken “single” take), but in the end this film is, first and foremost, a COMEDY, and while there’s plenty of heart and pathos on offer, as well as more than a little genuine DARKNESS here and there, ultimately everything is VERY MUCH played for humour, and the end result is definitely the funniest film I’ve encountered this year (so far, anyway).  It’s also just about the most effortlessly ENDEARING film I’ve come across in a very long time, and I have to admit I am SO GLAD that it managed to defy my low expectations SO MUCH, I feel VERY HAPPILY HUMBLED that I was proved SO WRONG this time round.  I’m genuinely hopeful that we get LOADS MORE of this going forward, I can’t wait for a whole long campaign’s worth of movies to grow out of these humble beginnings. Best get those D20s rolling again, guys!

#2023 in movies #sick #sick movie #sick 2023 #cocaine bear #ant man and the wasp quantumania #the pale blue eye #shazam fury of the gods #evil dead rise #puss in boots the last wish #renfield #renfield movie #john wick chapter 4 #dungeons and dragons honor among thieves