#tp: 1x10

[marvelsdefenders]

The Punisher (2017-) —— Jessica Jones (2015-)

[themarinaalexis]

This focus on Beacon Guard as the Big Brother-esque, omnipresent force is what I’ve wanted since the very beginning of this show. And the fact that it doubles as some sort of psychological experiment just makes it even better. I am so here for this, Freeform please just renew it so I can let myself be properly excited!!

[ambitionsource]

S1 Rewatch - Maggie’s Take [ 1.10 ]

i’m very late because i was losing my mind over everything else. but that’s okay! we have 8 more days to be late!!!!

Favorite scene

I literally have a lot of ties here... the scene between Isadora and Lucas on the catwalk is really important and encompasses so much of what I love about them... the scene between Isadora and Farkle is like one of my favorite scenes in the show and one of my favorite Farkle scenes... but I think I have to give it to Maya and Farkle drinking hot cocoa in her apartment. I just love the lowkey vulnerability in that scene and how the two of them very clearly understand one another after suspecting one another for comedy all episode long. It’s such a soft, understated scene and I love how their definition of love is like “don’t worry, no matter what I’ll keep treating you obnoxiously so you know I see you as an equal” dJSLJFDSLKJGKLDJGL. I just love them a lot, like a lot a lot...

Favorite performance

This episode has a LOT of fun numbers, but the winner for me will always be “Singin’ In the Rain.” It’s classic, first of all, but also there’s like very few numbers so perfectly suited to Farkle Minkus. I love what it means for him as a character, where like... for the first time he has an actual friend and he is so excited and full of energy because of it he has to go dance around in the rain without giving a fuck about his appearance (a FAR cry from his rage when the sprinkler system goes off in the pilot). Also, I just know he would slay it. I want to see Farkle dancing around in the puddles... universe, please...

Favorite character (within context of the episode)

I think Farkle for me... he has my favorite storyline, my favorite scene, my favorite line, my favorite song... there’s a LOT of good emotional contenders in this episode, but he just takes the cake overall. Yes the end of the season is... so fascinating for him...

Favorite line(s)

“Sometimes you just have to relinquish control and let the universe... I don’t know. Do it’s thing.” –Farkle Minkus

An underrated moment

There are plenty and so much I would love to stuff into this section, but the true UNDERRATED moment is when Nate and Isa are discussing their assignment and Maya’s involvement, and Dylan and Asher are discussing their project in the background and Dylan is CANONICALLY described as just going full tilt nuts. Like whatever he was doing is like nothing close to what they actually do (and actually Dylan is a pretty solid dancer, going into S2), but it’s just so funny to imagine him being like SO THEN, WE’D BE LIKE ALMDKLSJFSLDJFDSKJGDKLSGJDLFH, and Asher just understanding exactly what he means and nodding and taking notes like mhm mhm, okay, go on... God they are so iconic!!!!!!!!!

First impression vs your reread impression

Fun story about the creation of this episode -- it was difficult to outline LOL. I remember Es and I were struggling to communicate at the time, so in spite I outlined the whole thing duet by duet before just handing it to her. And then she was like “nothing happens...” and I like... almost lost my mind fDSJGKLJKLGJFDLKJHFDLKH. BUT then we talked it out and it was all fine, but what we ended up agreeing on was that there was a through line missing. And so that is how we ended up with the storyline of Eric and Jack interrogating students, and that sort of tying all of their individual relationship storylines together into something coherent. It was a genius move by Es and makes the episode SO much better, I just think it’s funny that it will always be remembered to me as one of the moments where I was ready to throttle her until we worked it out. The key here is this fellas -- communicate! FDSKLJFLKSDJGLKDFG

[kastlesource]

[moon-yean]

have you found something to do that for you? maybe, maybe.

[officialgleewatch]

Hey everyone!!

It’s weekend again and you know what that means: Gleewatch time!!

This weekend we are watching:

Saturday: 1x09 “Weels” and 1x10 “Ballad”

Sunday: 1x11 “Hairography” and 1x12 “Mattress”

We start both days at 15:30h EST (please look up what time that is for your county/city!)

You can find more info in our pinned post

If you wanna be added tp our @ list, just shoot us an ask!

@crypticchikwholuvspizza @justasmalltownpig @finnmcnamhaira @blurglesmurfklaine @esperantoauthor @klainedrops-on-roses @klainetrashnumberone @cheesuswarbler @porcelain-nightbird @blog-carmex @kuhlaine @schuyler-gleekster @usurix @hotdamnitslauradreyfusss @mytrashunicorn @syntheticpoetry @glee-is-awesome20250407 @bowtiesnmusicals @spicylollipopss @klainetkm @kuiinncedes @netflixandshit18 @gorgxoxus @katimanki @coffeeorderwrites @tpwklaine @backslashdelta @brittelizzabeth​ @sapphic-squid​ @sunshinematteo @angelhummel @trent-warbler @clarasoswinoswalds @artccolfer @fearlessly-and-forever

[impracticaljokerssub]

ADVERTENCIA El siguiente programa contiene escenas de estupidez gráfica entre cuatro amigos que compiten para avergonzarse entre sí.

Qué tal a todos y bienvenidos!

Aquí iré subiendo capítulos de Impractical Jokers subtitulados al español a medida que vayan emitiéndolos por TruTV Latinoamérica. Y mientras me sea posible, claro. El subtitulado proviene de ellos y yo me ocupo de capturarlo del canal de cable. Para los usuarios de celulares, es recomendable usar un navegador web para la correcta visualización de la página en lugar de la aplicación.

Subir todo esto costó bastante trabajo y tomó mucho de mi tiempo así que me hice una cuenta en Cafecito.app para que, si lo sienten, puedan contribuir con unos pesos, lo que me ayudaría un montón y me alienta a seguir subiendo contenido de estos cuatro bromistas que tanto queremos. De nuevo, si lo sienten y quieren, todo monto es más que bienvenido :)

https://cafecito.app/impracticalespanol

Muchas gracias y que lo disfruten!

- Fran, admin

(Actualizado: 22/12/2020)

Capítulos disponibles:

TEMPORADA 1

1x01 - Pay It Forward 1x02 - Butterfly Crime Scene 1x03 - Unmotivational Speaker 1x04 - Boardwalk of Shame 1x05 - Drawing a Blank 1x06 - Panty Raid 1x07 - Out of TP 1x08 - Who Arted 1x09 - A Loser Presents 1x10 - What Did I Eat? 1x11 - Starfart Macchiato 1x12 - Bellydancer 1x13 - Charity Case 1x14 - Theater del Absurdo 1x15 - Pick a Loser 1x16 - Supercuts

TEMPORADA 2

2x01 - The Stoop Sessions Part 1 2x02 - The Stoop Sessions Part 2 2x03 - Elephant in the Room 2x04 - Art Attack 2x05 - Strip High Five 2x06 - Birds and the Bees 2x07 - Sound EffeXXX 2x09 - Psychotic Not-Line 2x10 - The Truth Hurts 2x11 - Get Out of Dodge 2x12 - The Love Expert 2x13 - Out of Fashion 2x14 - Scaredy Cat 2x15 - Joker vs. Joker

TEMPORADA 3

3x01 - Look Out Below 3x02 - The Great Escape 3x03 - Field of Screams 3x04 - Nationals Disaster 3x05 - Bonus Footage 3x06 - Toasted 3x07 - Scarytales 3x08 - Inside the Vault 3x09 - Bigger in Texas 3x10 - Snow Way Out 3x11 - Takes the Cake 3x12 - Anniversary Edition 3x13 - Jokers Playhouse 3x14 - Make Womb for Daddy 3x15 - Puncture Perfect 3x16 - Junk in the Trunk 3x17 - The Good, the Bad, and the Uncomfortable 3x18 - Baggage Shame 3x19 - Quantum Mock-anics 3x20 - Clash of the Jokers 3x21 - Tooth & Consequences 3x22 - Fe-Mail 3x23 - The Lost Boy 3x24 - Up Loser’s Creek 3x25 - In Poor Taste Buds 3x26 - The Permanent Punishment 3x27 - Parks and Wreck 3x28 - A Legendary Fail 3x29 - B-I-N-G-NO 3x30 - Just Say No 3x31 - Brother-in-Loss

TEMPORADA 4

4x01 - Welcome to Miami 4x02 - Below the Belt 4x03 - Uncool and the Gang 4x04 - Wrong Playwright 4x05 - Elevating The Game 4x06 - The Blunder Years 4x07 - Deal With The Devils 4x08 - Damned If You Do 4x09 - The Dream Crusher 4x10 - Joke & Dagger 4x11 - Pseudo-Sumo 4x12 - Car Sick 4x13 - Cruisin' For A Bruisin' 4x14 - Bathroom Break 4x16 - Captain Fatbelly 4x17 - Sneaking Number Twos, Going Number One 4x18 - Blind Justice 4x19 - Tied and Feathered 4x20 - Smushed 4x21 - Live Punishment Special 4x22 - The Big Uneasy 4x23 - Hopeless and Changeless 4x24 - Stripped of Dignity 4x25 - The Taunted House 4x26 - Doomed

TEMPORADA 5

5x01 - HellCopter 5x02 - You're Cut Off 5x03 - Ruffled Feathers 5x04 - Stare Master 5x05 - Bidder Loser 5x06 - The Good, The Bad, and the Punished 5x07 - Putting the P in Pool 5x08 - Statue of Limitations 5x09 - Brother of the Sisterhood 5x10 - Dark Side of the Moon 5x11 - Whose Phone Is Ringing? 5x12 - Centaur of Attention 5x13 - Browbeaten 5x14 - The Coward 5x15 - Virtual Insanity 5x16 - Laundry Day 5x18 - Hitting the Wrong Note 5x19 - Heckle and Hide 5x22 - Ash Clown 5x23 - Spider Man 5x24 - Stage Fright 5x25 - Training Day 5x26 - Nitro Circus Spectacular

TEMPORADA 6

6x01 - Swim Shady 6x02 - Lady and the Tramp 6x03 - The Parent Trap 6x04 - Catastrophe 6x05 - Vampire Weakened 6x06 - Footloose 6x07 - X-Man 6x08 - Medium, Well Done 6x09 - Drum and Drummer 6x11 - Stuffed Turkey 6x12 - Crickets 6x13 - Universal Appeal  6x14 - Paradise Lost 6x15 - Mime and Punishment 6x16 - Three Men and Your Baby 6x17 - The Q-Pay 6x18 - Rubbed the Wrong Way 6x19 - Flatfoot the Pirate 6x20 - Remember the Pact 6x21 - Silence of the Lame 6x22 - The Walking Dread 6x23 - Take Me Out at The Ball Game 6x24 - The Party Crasher

TEMPORADA 7

7x01 - The Marathon Man 7x02 - Guilty as Charged 7x03 - No Good Deed 7x04 - Stripteased 7x05 - Indecent Proposal 7x06 - Turning the Tables 7x07 - Lords of the Ring 7x08 - No Child Left Behind 7x09 - Pulling the Rug 7x10 - Speech Impediment 7x11 - Card Against Humanity 7x12 - Bull Shiatsu 7x13 - The Running Of The Bullies 7x14 - The Needy and the Greedy 7x15 - Washed Up 7x16 - To Hatch A Predator 7x17 - Like A Boss 7x18 - Chick Magnet 7x19 - Dropping Knowledge 7x20 - Hump Day 7x21 - Out of Left Field 7x22 - Autograph Corrector 7x23 - The Bogey Man 7x24 - Hell On Wheels 7x26 - Staten Island Holiday Spectacular

TEMPORADA 8

8x01 - Crash Test Dummies 8x02 - The Closer 8x03 - Tipping Point 8x04 - Full Mental Jacket 8x05 - Blue Man Dupe 8x06 - The Dumbbell 8x07 - The Eggman 8x08 - Cake Loss 8x09 - The Antisocial Network 8x10 - Off the Reservation 8x11 - Fraudway 8x12 - The Show Stopper 8x13 - Sucks for You 8x14 - Well... 8x15 - The Prize Fighter 8x16 - Sun-Fan Lotion 8x17 - Urine Trouble 8x18 - Irritable Vowel Syndrome 8x19 - Bad Carma 8x20 - Fast Feud

ESPECIALES

British Invasion A Day in the Life (Making of) Unseen Scenes All Aboard! One Night Stand Up Joker for a Day - Part 2 The Murray Jury Sizing Up Sal Judging Joe Critiquing Q Humiliation for the Holidays Fan-tastic Countdown   Punishment Countdown March Madness Showdown March Madness Bracket Attack

EN ESPAÑOL LATINO

2x11 - Get Out of Dodge 2x12 - The Love Expert 2x13 - Out of Fashion 3x08 - Inside the Vault 3x17 - The Good, the Bad, and the Uncomfortable 5x16 - Laundry Day 5x17 - Water Torture 5x18 - Hitting the Wrong Note 5x19 - Heckle and Hide 5x20 - The Chairman 5x21 - Wrapper's Delight 5x22 - Ash Clown 5x23 - Spider Man 5x24 - Stage Fright 5x25 - Training Day

AFTER PARTY

1x01 - The Q-Pay (6x17) 1x02 - Rubbed the Wrong Way (6x18) 1x03 - Flatfoot the Pirate (6x19) 1x04 - Remember the Pact (6x20) 1x05 - Silence of the Lame (6x21)  1x06 - The Walking Dread (6x22)  1x07 - Take Me Out at The Ball Game (6x23)  1x08 - The Party Crasher (6x24) 1x09 - Dover and Out (6x25) 3x01 - Crash Test Dummies (8x01) 3x02 - The Closer (8x02) 3x03 - Tipping Point (8x03) 3x04 - Off the Reservation (8x10) 3x05 - Fraudway (8x11)

Puedes ver Impractical Jokers por TruTV Latinoamérica todos los días a las 06.00, 14.00 y 22.00 hs.

[visitingthefuneralhome]

BtVS Rewatch: 1x10, Nightmares

continuing my weekly rewatch of buffy with my partner (his first time watching), we watched nightmares last week, immediately after The Puppet Show - while we initially planned to watch the show weekly, he enjoyed The Puppet Show so much that we watched three episodes in a row - TPS, Nightmares, and Out of Mind, Out of Sight (OOMOOS). While I have always thought of this episode as one of the best season one episodes, I ended it feeling a little bored and my partner felt more than a little confused about the mechanics. This episode seems to me to have an issue with growing pains: on one hand, it’s trying to be a Monster of the Week horror movie riff like the previous season one episodes - on the other hand, it’s attempting to be a character study with its focus on its principal characters’ nightmares, transitioning the show towards a more character-based mode of storytelling. The results are muddled and half-baked, but you can see the show attempting to be more, and do more with its characters. Even the theme of the episode - childhood nightmares and intergenerational encounters - seems to be inching towards a character focus, compelling the show to consider its characters more forcefully.

more thoughts on childhood, the role of the Slayer, and the show’s movement towards greatness:

What I did remember of this episode before going in is its middle section, where Buffy encounters her dad and you see her fall apart as he tells her she was the reason her parents broke up. On one hand, this is linked to her Slayerhood and her feelings of isolation and shame over it - this moment is an excellent character study in light of that, and an important gear shift for the character as we begin transitioning into season two. And yet, it’s absolutely mired in the plot of our nightmares coming to life, and so it becomes an archetypal scene for a child learning that their parents split because of them. When Buffy the character is played too much as Buffy-as-metaphor, she loses coherence and depth, and we risk losing that here too, as Buffy Summers fades into Buffy-the-kid.

And this episode is all about childhood! We have two children that centre the episode - Billy the kid who’s been beaten up by his coach, and The Anointed One, who The Master pontificated to at the start of the episode. They counterpoint each other, with the Anointed One’s tutelage from the Master mirroring Billy’s tutelage from Buffy later. Where Buffy approaches Billy as an equal, guiding him and respecting his agency, The Anointed One exists to be taught by the Master about the world of nightmares. Fittingly, the Anointed disappears by the time the Master emerges to kill Buffy.

The issue is, with the focus on childhood, the fears and nightmares that emerge are very much of childhood - Cordelia is dragged away to the chess club, Willow has to sing on stage, Xander goes to class in his underwear. These superficial nightmares of this episode ricochet off the MoTW’s focus on childhood, but end up being a middling character study. We already know Willow’s scared of the stage. We will learn next episode that Cordelia has much deeper fears of isolation and loneliness. Xander’s fear of being naked in class tells us nothing.

What it does do, though, is position Buffy as the one teen emerging into adulthood - her fears rapidly escalate and warp reality around them far more than the others’ do. Buffy’s exceptionalism is highlighted her, and her specific fears of being buried alive and being told that she caused her parents’ divorce position her as a liminal figure, trapped, but also moving, between the world of the adults and the world of the children. When the Master emerges to explain the world of nightmares to her, her previous role of teacher to Billy is contextualized, and her adolescence - caught between two worlds - is highlighted, where the Master is very much placed in the role of the old, the aged, the mature.��

The nightmares of this episode do tell us something about the show, where it’s heading, and why Buffy Summers functions so well as a study of adolescence. The Slayer role gives her the responsibility and depth that sets her apart from other students, and highlight the isolation teens (and generally people) face, the sense that your own concerns and issues are the most pressing, apocalyptic, and world-changing. In this light, the superficiality of other characters’ nightmares are a given. At the same time though, it is a disservice to these wonderful characters who will eventually jostle with Buffy Summers for screentime and development, and it is their current subservience to her growth which renders some of the frustration of this episode.

Also, the episode is just… confusing? The Billy story is surprisingly hard to follow, as my partner pointed out. Why should we care about this kid? Why is his backstory so convoluted? It’s played as a mystery, but it’s not as intriguing or elegant as previous mysteries, and just seem slapped together to give us the character time this episode has. The show will begin to do these perfunctory plots better as the show goes on, but right now, it’s both weirdly simple and overly complicated. As morgue mentions, it’s a pretty missed opportunity - by straying away from the high school, the story risks losing the plot of the show’s original concept, and is just a much less interesting story for it. Not a great look!

[qqueenofhades]

with hearts like wars and lips like scars

Surprise, surprise, I have officially arrived in this dumpster and there appears to be no getting out. This is my first-ever effort at writing for these two (as well as my first MCU fic, I think), so please be gentle, as I have watched ten episodes of The Punisher over three days and have a lot of emotions. I am New Here and just want to play a bit in the sandbox.

Tagging @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @extasiswings, and @prairiepirate because they know what they did.

Set immediately post-1x10 of TP. Rated T.

Karen takes the subway home.

It seems almost like a strange thing to do, banal, ordinary. Half of her can’t see why it shouldn’t be. Once the feds and the cops and the crime-scene cleanup crews can’t think of anything else they need to do to her, she’s politely taken Agent Madani’s card – you two have a connection, like this is some game show, maybe – and retrieved her bloodstained purse, she ducks into the bathroom long enough to be sure she won’t cause any more public hysteria, then steps out and walks to the subway. There are still plenty of flashing lights surrounding the hotel, she gets checked one more time before she can leave the police cordon, and finally, nakedly, she’s on the street, alone. She looks up at the sky, for half a second. No idea who she expects to see fly by. Iron Man?

There is some interest in the scene, and Karen gets goggled at briefly, but New Yorkers are New Yorkers, and it’s nothing they haven’t seen before. The grumbling seems mostly to be about how it’ll fuck up the evening commute, and she briefly wonders who all these people are, who she is, that they just live here and accept it as the price they have to pay. She feels dreamy and numb and oddly uncaring. She fishes her Metro card out of her purse and stands coolly on the platform in the cold drench of the fluorescents, keeps turning her head and looking too long at any tallish man in a dark hooded sweatshirt. Of course it’s not him, not since he climbed out of the roof of the elevator and she – and she –

(Karen doesn’t know how that sentence ends, and doesn’t know if she should.)

She waits until the subway pulls in, realizes too late it’s the local 1-train and not the express, and gets stuck calling all stops, until she gets off at Times Square to switch trains. There is something alluring about the idea of being lost in the crowd, nobody looking at her twice. Karen sees people more worried about the whole thing than she ever was and wonders why she doesn’t give a damn. Well, it’s not that, not exactly. Just that if you consider that she was the one grabbed by a crazed bomber and nearly blown to the same red mist that he ended up as, pulverized on the inside of an industrial freezer, she should be the one most upset. Life and death twisted between her fingers, red wire or white. She couldn’t let on. She couldn’t look down. She had to keep her eyes on Frank’s, and trust him.

She did. She does. The only one in the city again, probably. When after they’ve been subject to actual fucking alien attacks and destructive galactic warlords and whatever else, somehow one man, one loner in black, is Public Enemy Number One. It makes sense if you think about it, the way humans are, the way they’ll determinedly ignore the most ridiculous and insane shit but throw fits over the smallest thing. The headlines are ginning up to be good and hysterical. The Punisher Returns! Clear-as-day picture from cop car dashcam footage. Karen is the only one who knows it’s a lie. The Punisher didn’t return. Frank Castle left.

(Frank Castle left.)

(She closes her eyes and tries, yet again, to make her peace with that.)

It’s getting dark by the time Karen walks up to her apartment, the familiar drone of a siren going a few streets over and kids loitering on the steps. She climbs past them, digs for her keys, collects her mail, and wonders if she remembered to buy milk; she thinks she was getting low. Just getting back from a normal day at work, evidently. Nothing more.

Her phone buzzes maniacally in her bag, now that she’s out from underground and has reception again, and she finally remembers it, takes it out, and sees about forty missed calls and texts from Foggy. At least he, not being a savage, has had the decency to check up on her, since it’s probably on the news that a Bulletin reporter was caught up in the mess, and Wilson was open about targeting her. Karen thinks that while she might know a few too many vigilantes for peace of mind and quiet life, she’s just as cussedly stubborn about running into the punches. Pick your battles, pick fewer than that, that’s too many, put some back, it’s just as much her as it is Matt or Frank. She didn’t have to go on the radio and she didn’t have to defy the whole damn establishment like that, but she did. Maybe that’s why she and the other kind get along.

Karen unlocks her door and pushes it open, dropping her coat and bag on the back of the couch and shutting and bolting the door. She thumbs out a quick text to Foggy reassuring him that she’s fine, which – if the phone buzzing again thirty seconds later is any indication – doesn’t really do the trick. She picks up. “Yeah. Hey. I just got home, I’m fine.”

“I haven’t been able to get in touch with you for like, six hours.” Foggy sounds accusing. “Karen, what the hell happened? That bomber – ”

“It’s all right.” Karen toes off her heels and tucks the phone under her chin, padding into her kitchen to see what can be scraped together. “I was on the subway. And before that, they had interviews and other things they wanted to do. Like I said, I’m home now.”

“Jesus, Karen.” Poor Foggy Nelson; being friends with Matt Murdock and Karen Page is not a job for the faint of heart. He pauses before the next question, as Karen can almost hear the name being shaped in the air and knows it’s coming. “Is it true that he’s back?”

They don’t need to define “he,” though Karen feels a momentary urge toward deliberate obstinacy. She loves Foggy to death, but she doesn’t know if she wants to get into this with him. She hasn’t told either of them about her intermittent, secret meetings with Frank, the way that she told him he would be dead to her if he murdered Schoonover, and then when he improbably turned up again months later, disguised as a hobo asking for change, her only emotion was relief. She kept wondering if she might hold a grudge, but she knew fairly quickly that was a lie. She didn’t want to. She just wanted to see him again. Strange, how that always seems to be the place they end up in. Truncated. Unfinished. Unmended.

Foggy is still waiting for an answer, and Karen doesn’t know what to tell him. She opens the fridge, sees a few Chinese takeout boxes, a wilting head of lettuce, a bodega bag she stuffed in and has forgotten what’s actually in there. Maybe she can boil some pasta, there might be some in the cupboards. She opens it. To the phone she says, “The police are doing their job, I’m sure they’ll figure out everything that’s going on. Tell Matt that I’m okay.” She doesn’t want to ask if Matt noticed. She assumes he does care. She is not, however, in the mood for whatever moral high horse he would be bound to hop on in regard to Frank. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Foggy. Okay?”

With that, not leaving him a chance to point out that she never answered his question, Karen hangs up, and tosses her phone onto the counter. It spins a few times, hits the fruit bowl (or at least, what would be a fruit bowl if she ever went to the supermarket) and as she steps over and opens the cupboard in search of victuals, she catches sight of the browning roses tucked in their vase against the back wall. Their stems are dry and brittle, their petals dropping, and she should probably throw them away, but she finds her hands unexpectedly freezing. White roses. That was how he thought she should get in contact with him. Not a burner phone or anything else like that. I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. Seriously?

Karen finds her mouth quirking up into a brief smile. Then – she doesn’t know why, but still – she impulsively grabs the vase, runs more water into it like that will suddenly bring them back to life, and sticks it in the window, where it’s visible from the street. She’ll throw them out tomorrow. She’ll make peace with it then.

She boils a little pasta, sloshes the last of the Prego béchamel sauce over it, and mixes it up in a bowl, standing at the counter to eat. As she takes a bite, the heat stings undiscovered cuts in her mouth, and she grimaces, spitting it back and breathing hah-hah-hah until the burning subsides. She’s more wary about the next forkful, but she’s hungry, and it doesn’t take long in disappearing. Then she puts the bowl in the sink – wash it tomorrow too, apparently – and checks her phone again, this time to answer messages from Ellison. No, she does not expect to miss her deadline. She avoids the question on what on earth she was thinking. She was just there to interview Senator Ori. A journalist cannot be blamed for that.

Karen walks into her bathroom, pulls her hair out of its loose knot, and lets it tumble down her shoulders. Strips off the blue silk blouse, dotted with blood, and decides that true to the emerging pattern, she will worry about how to get the stains out later. Opens her medicine cabinet, digs out Bactine and band-aids and hydrogen peroxide, and hisses and winces as she dabs at the shrapnel cuts on her face. The paramedics took care of most of them back at the hotel, but there are still a few extra. She was, after all, publicly held hostage by a terrifying killer, gun to her chin, dragged into an elevator. Can’t blame her for being shaken.

Karen sets her chin, looks at herself in the mirror, wonders if you’re supposed to cry just to release the stress hormones or however it makes you feel better, and doesn’t think she has any likelihood of weeping for herself. She strips off the skirt and the frayed pantyhose, runs a shower, and steps in, letting the water cascade over her head and shoulders until it finally turns lukewarm and she cranks it off, old pipes creaking. She wraps a towel around herself and brushes her hair until it likewise falls into a monotony. Ritual cleanliness. Lady Macbeth and her spot. Have to keep washing until it finally comes out. Karen doesn’t know why. It’s not her spot.

At last, she shakes her damp hair back, steps out of the hot steamy bathroom into the comparative shocking coldness of the hall, and goes into her bedroom to put on her pajamas. There is a strange, hollow, echoing emptiness in her chest that’s different from ordinary trauma or the receding of shock, something she doesn’t want to think about. Wants to get into bed with enough quilts to feel their weight, to be pressed down into the mattress, to sleep for a hundred years, or at least until the alarm has to go off tomorrow morning. The world will make more sense then, be settled back into place. That, and then she can –

Frank Castle is standing on her balcony.

For a long moment, for a brief and wild eternity, Karen is completely sure that she is hallucinating him. That she has somehow called him up from whatever hinterland he’s gone back to, that this is just some mirage of a stressed and tired mind, that of course she’s seeing him only because she wants to. She doesn’t know how on earth he would have gotten up here, if he was real – parkoured his ass up? It seems to fit the dramatic necessity – but then, how or why Frank does anything is usually the mootest of points. When she blinks hard a few more times and he’s still there, when he catches her eye through the glass and seems set to jump back down if it’s not what she wants, she is forced to accept that he, somehow, is actually there. She remains where she is an instant more, then shoves the window open and hisses, “Frank? What the hell, Frank!”

He grabs the frame and limbers through, elegant as a cat. He lands on his feet like one too, but he straightens up slowly and with evident pain. There’s still dried blood on the side of his head where the bullet grazed him, he’s moving carefully enough that there must be another, and Karen has a brief and confused impression of him bodily diving in front of a shotgun to ensure that wasn’t her. His shoulder looks fucked up too, and she fights the brief and pointless impulse to tell him to go to the hospital. Of course the Punisher can’t walk into St. Luke’s or wherever else, with the entire city on the lookout for him again. Wherever he’s been living, whatever urban shithole he’s stayed off the grid, who knows. And even though she should, as they stare at each other, Karen can’t tell him to go.

“What are you doing here?” she manages at last, in half a whisper. “It’s dangerous.”

Frank grunts, almost amused, as if he can’t believe she’s actually saying that to him after the day they’ve had. He does, Karen supposes, have a point, and he tips his head at the flowers. “Saw them. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Karen wants to ask how he saw them, but she gets the sense that Frank is working with somebody who has a whole lot of cameras and is not afraid to use them. They stand a few feet apart, her clean and damp and pink-faced, hair loose in shining blonde locks, warm from the shower, and him filthy and bloody and dressed in black, having climbed all the way up here with God knows what injuries just because he caught sight of a bunch of dead flowers. Karen feels absurdly guilty, as if she should have taken more care at calling him up, that she has this power and perhaps needs to go wary in how she uses it. They stare at each other a moment more, and she shakes her head. “God, you’re still a mess. Don’t you have anyone to look at that?”

“Normally a guy named Curtis would do the honors. But he got the shit kicked out of him earlier by our friend.” Frank’s mouth tightens, and he looks away. “Didn’t feel like I should impose again.”

Karen has some sense of Frank mentioning him earlier during the face-off with Wilson, something about the bomb that Curtis had been strapped to, and that they needed to pull the white wire, then and now, to stop it. A brief shudder passes over her, the fear she didn’t feel then, when it was nothing but instinct and adrenaline and the unshakeable knowledge that if she wasn’t walking away from here alive, neither was Frank. Live or die, they were doing it together, and she lets out a slow, shaky breath. Then she says, “Go sit down.”

Frank seems about to argue, smartly decides against it after a glance from her, and painfully makes his way to one of the kitchen chairs. He sits down, ready to spring up again in an instant at any sudden noise or knock, if some enterprising cop tailed him here, and Karen wonders briefly if she really should let him stay. That thought is dismissed as soon as it comes, and she goes to pull the curtains shut, then returns to the bathroom to collect her first-aid kit. Having Matt Murdock in your life means you own a decent one, and while Karen is no Claire Temple, she knows a thing or two.

She comes out with it and sets it on the kitchen counter, as Frank turns his head, regrets it, and winces. Then he says, more gravelly than usual, “Karen. You don’t have to fix me up.”

“Hold still.” Karen pulls on a pair of blue rubber gloves and tears open an antiseptic wipe, dabbing at the crusted blood along the shaved side of Frank’s undercut, as he jerks but doesn’t make a sound otherwise. The bullet has left a corrugated gash, but she should thank either his reflexes, for being fast, or his goddamn skull, for being so thick, and she holds his chin with her other hand as she works. As ordered, Frank stays unnaturally still, like a big cat in the scrub remaining motionless for a human to approach it, but she can feel his breathing. It takes almost a dozen wipes to get the blood off, and she cuts a length of gauze, folds it into a pad, and presses it into the wound. Of course, running around for hours after you’ve been shot in the head, no matter how glancingly, doesn’t help. God, he’s stubborn.

There’s no sound except the muffled thump of someone’s music from down the hall, and the hiss and sigh of the radiators. The atmosphere is strange, slow, heightened, like in the immediate aftermath of the blast when they found themselves on the floor, battered and breathless, and turned toward each other, drawn like magnets, as she reached out to touch his chest and his hand cupped her head, shielding, checking to see if she was all right, the roughness of his callused fingers tangling in her hair. Karen discovers that her throat is oddly dry, that she has to swallow, as she cuts surgical tape and tamps the gauze in place. Then she says, “What about the other one? Let me see that.”

“It’s – ” Frank shifts tersely. “Karen – ”

“You took a goddamn bullet for me,” she snaps. “Let me see.”

He blows out a frustrated breath, but reaches for his shirt and slowly peels it over his head, grimacing again as the blood-sodden fabric sticks to the wound and comes away with an unpleasant sucking sound. It’s mottled and bruised, an entry and exit hole visible on ribs and back, so at least the bullet isn’t in there; Karen is not nearly skilled enough for extraction surgery. She notices, in a sudden and matter-of-fact way, that Frank is ripped. Not that you would expect otherwise, the sort of things he does, but this is the first time she has had the chance to inspect the results at close range, and it does something to her, makes something flutter low and hot in her stomach. She looks away. She’d rather he didn’t see that.

Karen pours some disinfectant on another gauze pad and dabs at the wound, feeling like this is just window-dressing to make her feel better rather than anything about to actually help, but Frank silently tolerates her attentions. She tapes another dressing into place, looks at his shoulder, and decides that while it indeed may be partially dislocated, she isn’t sure how to put it back. It’s clearly causing him significant pain, he doesn’t need to be at a disadvantage if someone comes after him, and she’s just trying to think if she can Google “how to reset shoulder” on WebMD when Frank says, “Grab my elbow. Line it up with the joint. I’ll tell you when you have the right angle.”

She looks at him, startled, then takes hold of his arm, lifting and bracing it, as Frank wriggles around awkwardly to try to give her the correct degree of torque. “When I count three,” he says, slightly breathless, “you whip it up hard and straight, you’ll hear a pop when it goes in. Keep it at that angle. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Karen takes a better grip, adjusting the angle slightly as he beckons with his chin. She waits as Frank counts, and then on three, does as ordered, with a brief fear she’ll break his arm. There’s a horrible wet scraping sound but no pop, he swears in pain, and she lets go, with another stab of guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, come on,” Frank rasps. “I thought it might take a couple tries. Grab it, Karen. Good girl. Again. One – two – three – ”

This time, there’s a brief, fierce resistance, she can feel it running through the whiplash cord of his muscles and then into hers like an electrical current, and there is a grate and an undeniable pop as Frank’s shoulder snaps back into joint. He lets out a heartfelt “Fuck” of relief, massaging at his collarbone, and grimaces, blowing out a breath and dashing the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “That’s better.”

“Here.” Karen takes the ibuprofen bottle and shakes out several rust-colored pills. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything stronger.”

Frank glances at her ironically, as if in acknowledgement that she pre-empted his question, then scoops the pills up and chokes them down dry. Karen goes to get him a glass of water, which he drinks, then clears his throat. “I should – I should get going. Micro’s probably already shitting bricks about this whole thing.”

“Micro?”

“Guy I’m working with,” Frank says, not particularly helpfully, but this at least makes Karen feel briefly better that he is not attempting this damned-fool idealistic crusade completely single-handed. “He can be a goddamn mother hen sometimes.”

“Someone should look out for you.” Karen can’t quite stop herself from reaching out for him, as if to cup his cheek, though her hand doesn’t entirely get there. Frank tilts his head back, his brown eyes shadowed almost black in the crappy lights of her apartment, and their gazes meet, the undercurrent of earlier, whatever it was between them in that instant in the elevator when their foreheads touched and their mouths were close and… Karen knows about Maria, of course. Knows that Frank can’t bear to let go of his wife, not now, not with the job not done, and she doesn’t want to distract from or dishonor that. And yet.

The moment remains heightened between them, as the tip of her fingers brush ever so slightly against his jaw. It’s the briefest and most innocent of touches, but Frank tenses as if it’s been something far different. Of course nobody touches him with kindness. Nobody touches him without intending to break him, more than he already is, takes defiant pride in already being in so many pieces that they cannot do any worse. And yet, Karen thinks, that is not entirely true. If she had died today, if he had not been able to save her, something else would have broken among all his halls and halls of shattered mirrors. Something fundamental, and permanent, and painful. She doesn’t know if she wants to have that responsibility, that weight on his much-abused heart, and yet she does nonetheless.

Frank turns his head as if he’s about to kiss her fingers, like that kiss on the cheek in the darkness down by the bridge, when they met after the car accident with Madani. He stops himself, of course, if not entirely in time to disguise what he was going to do. Karen pulls her hand back, self-conscious, and he gets to his feet. “Thanks, Karen. I’ll see myself out.”

She wants to tell him that he’s an idiot, an idiot, that he doesn’t have to run alone across the city to whatever lonely bed might await down whatever miserable hole, but as well established, Karen Page knows too many vigilantes. She bites her tongue instead, wanting to at least offer him a hot shower and something to eat (what? Her pasta leftovers? Maybe she can warm up the Chinese?) but she knows he won’t accept. He’s already come all this way to see that she’s safe, she ended up taking care of him, the city is still looking for him, and he will take no chance of being caught here. But even with all this being the case, she doesn’t know how she’s just going to – well. To just let him go. Again. Always. Maybe one day that cycle will end, but it is not today. It is not now.

“Frank.” Her voice is tremulous. “Take care of yourself.”

He looks at her for a long moment, those shadowed eyes and that craggy, broken nose, that hard mouth and the jarhead buzz cut, so many hard edges somehow softened past bearing when his gaze is fixed on her, and only her. He seems about to say something else, then gives it up as a bad job. He takes half a step, reaches her, and grips the back of her head, drawing their foreheads together. They share breath, their eyelashes flutter, her lips part as if in instinctive and unspeakable need for a kiss, but Frank does not kiss her. He tilts her chin back and presses his mouth to the pulse point on her neck, raw and unformed, devoted, desperate, as if he needs, if nothing else, to feel the echoes of her living, beating heart. He holds her against him for another moment, their breathing heavy with unspoken, unshared words, and then he lets her go, with impossible tenderness. He says in a rasp, “Lock the door.”

Karen manages a tight little nod, lips pressed white, clenching her fingers into her palm until she can feel the crescent moons of her nails. She goes to the door with him, as if bidding him good night after a pleasant evening, and as he looks at her again, it takes all her effort not to kiss him then and there, Maria or no Maria, vengeance or punishment, death or dishonor. But she can’t, and he can’t, and so, somehow, she opens the door again and does not need to tell him to be careful. He steps out, and she waits until he is out of sight, and then, as ordered, she locks it. The bolt is heavy as iron in her hands.

Karen turns, and goes into her bedroom, and lies down on her bed, in the darkness. When she closes her eyes, Lewis Wilson’s maddened face swirls up behind it, until it vanishes in a bloom of ravening flame, and she opens them again with a jerk. She will get over this, she supposes. She always does. But it still takes her a while to close them again.

She sleeps. Not all that well, and broken with uneasy dreams, but she does. She is awakened, as ever, by her alarm the next morning, as if – just as she wanted – everything has snapped back into place like that reset joint, as if the world will go back to whatever normality it possesses, which seems to be quite little in this corner of Hell’s Kitchen sometimes. She gets up. She walks into the kitchen. Thinks about how she’ll get to work. Opens the cupboard, then glances over, reflexively, at the window

The dead flowers are still there. She needs to throw them out. And yet, that’s not the only thing. A fresh bouquet of white roses has been laid on the balcony, glistening with morning dew. An apology, perhaps. A goodbye. Another message. It could be anything. Who knows how long it will be before she sees him again to ask.

Karen opens the window, takes them inside. Cuts the stems and puts them in a new vase. Then gets dressed, grabs her purse and her keys, steps out of the apartment, and does not look back.

[extasiswings]

hello 'tis i the kastle anon from earlier just wanna say thank you for those wonderful recs, i read all your links and am making my way through that list and watched all their scenes on youtube and haven't stopped thinking about that elevator scene like all day i love them a lot and have many feelings now thank you for shooting my productivity for the next few days in the face i'm just gonna chill here at the very bottom of the kastle dumpster for a while if that's okay 👍

HELLO again, Nonny. I hope you will indulge me because I saw this ask and was inspired to skip ahead in my rewatch to TP 1x10 for Reasons and am now allllllllllllllll in my feels over it. I feel like when I watched that episode for the first time I came out of it like “…did that…really just happen? What did I just WATCH?” because it was some kind of incredible Kastle fever dream culminating in the elevator scene and after rewatching it I’m still there a little bit since it’s just…so MUCH. You didn’t ask for this, but I’m going to talk about all of that anyway because I am also a damn mess over them.

The elevator scene would have been feelsy on its own, but the episode as a whole is almost overwhelming for my poor heart. There’s Karen’s “I think he was looking out for me” when Brett asks why Frank was even there in the “present” and then there are all the flashbacks to what really happened. To Frank showing up and trying to protect her, to his “I’ll come for you” after she’s been grabbed by Lewis because even if he can’t get her safe right at that moment, he needs her to know that. He’s never lied to her, so if he says he’ll come for her, then he will and they both know it, which is why he needs her to hear it. And then there’s his showdown with Madani and then Russo in the stairwell where Frank just…does not care about anything but getting to Karen. When he finally does, he’s injured, he’s unarmed, he’s a mess, but he’s there. And the SECOND he gets there, the shift in Karen is noticeable. She’s still scared, but she’s determined. She trusts Frank implicitly. She knows that he’ll get her out of this. 

Which brings me to their COMMUNICATION in that scene. Holy shit. I can’t. Because they say so much with tiny gestures and coded language while Frank’s talking to Lewis. Letting her know that the bomb is probably rigged the same as the others, that she needs to pull the white wire to disable it, the head shakes when her fingers are on the red one and the nod when she finally gets the white one. The way he asks if she has her gun without asking and she knows that she needs to shoot Lewis in the foot as soon as she pulls the wire. And THEN, once she’s free, the fact that she won’t leave without him. There is still a bomb and a man willing to blow himself up and yet even when Frank tells her to go, Karen stands her ground because like hell is she abandoning him when he didn’t abandon her, when he has never abandoned her. 

I can’t even touch the aftermath of the explosion because it’s too much. It’s SO SOFT. The way he cradles her head, the way they reassure one another so quietly that they’re okay. And after that, the fact that it’s KAREN who makes him take her “hostage” in order to escape. She trusts him to hold a gun to her chin because she knows he would never let anything happen to her. I just…I can’t. 

The elevator scene after all of that is just…wow. Wow. They collapse apart as soon as the door closes because he can’t bear to even pretend to put her in danger for a second longer than absolutely necessary. And then, he’s prepared to go. To leave without another word because he did what he came to do, she’s safe, Lewis is gone, it’s over. But again, Karen stops him, can’t stop herself from touching him, from cataloging his many many injuries and I swear they’re like magnets the way they fall together again. I fully believe that if she hadn’t pulled away (like it was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life) and told him to go, they probably would have kissed. Which is why she did. Because he is not ready. He hasn’t let go of his family, he’s still trying to find answers, he can’t be hers yet. But in that moment he could very easily have given into that anyway. So it’s Karen who has to pull away. Karen who tells him to go. Karen who can’t stop herself from crying because maybe she’ll never see him again. And what else can he say other than “Take care”? Those two words alone hold so much weight, say so much. I’d be willing to guess that anything else coming to mind for him in that moment would have had the same effect as a kiss, and therefore couldn’t have been said for the same reasons. 

I love them so much and I need them back together on my screen so badly because by the end of the season, Frank DOES let go. He wants to work toward something better, toward the “after” that Karen says she wants him to have. Because I think that “after” includes her. I think it has to. 

So…yeah. I really really love this episode.   

[antibioprovn]

Men tiêu hóa Antibio Pro bổ sung lợi khuẩn đường ruột

Men Vi sinh Antibio Pro giúp Bổ sung lợi khuẩn, hỗ trợ cải thiện hệ vi sinh đường ruột và hỗ trợ giảm triệu chứng của rối loạn tiêu hóa. Khỏe ruột để khỏe thân!

Thành phần

Lactobacillus acidophilus bột đông khô 1g chứa (1x10^8) vi khuẩn.

Thành phần khác: Corn starch, lactose hydrate, hydroxypropyl cellulose.

Công dụng

Bổ sung lợi khuẩn, giúp cải thiện hệ vi sinh đường ruột.

Giúp giảm triệu chứng của rối loạn tiêu hóa như tiêu chảy, khó tiêu, đầy hơi, phân sống do:

Dùng thuốc kháng sinh dài ngày

Loạn khuẩn đường tiêu hóa hoặc ngộ độc thức ăn

Chú ý: Thực phẩm này không phải là thuốc, không có tác dụng thay thế thuốc chữa bệnh.

Đối tượng sử dụng:

Sử dụng cho cả người lớn và trẻ em.

Cách dùng:

Người lớn: 1 gói x 3 lần/ngày, dùng đường uống.

Trẻ em: ½ -1 gói x 2 lần/ngày, dùng đường uống. Có thể uống với nước, nước đường hoặc với sữa, uống giữa các bữa ăn.

Tiêu chảy cấp và táo bón: sử dụng Antibio Pro liều gấp đôi.

Dự phòng: Người lớn: 1 gói x 2 lần/ngày; Trẻ em: ½ gói x 2 lần/ngày.

Bảo quản

Để xa tầm tay trẻ em

Để trong bao bì kín tránh ánh sáng, dưới 25°C.

Hạn dùng: 36 tháng kể từ ngày sản xuất

Sản xuất bởi:

Han Wha Pharma Co., Ltd

109 Yakam-gil, Nam-Myeon,

Chuncheon-Si, Gangwon-Do, Hàn Quốc

Công ty nhập khẩu và chịu trách nhiệm về sản phẩm:

Công ty TNHH Bayer Việt Nam

Lô 118/4, Khu công nghiệp Long Bình, P. Long Bình, TP Biên Hòa,Tỉnh Đồng Nai

[marvelsdefenders]

[themarinaalexis]

My predictions for 1x10:

I have stayed completely away from any sneak peeks, previews, or other spoilers, so I’m going into the finale as blind as Jenna. Here are some of my thoughts on what I’m expecting to see tonight:

- Within the first few minutes, we’ll find out what Jeremy really did the night Nolan was killed (and it’s not going to be that he killed Nolan). That’s going to be the information mentioned in the synopsis that changes everything the characters think they know.

- Caitlin is going to be put into the unfortunate position of having to decide between going against the group and telling the truth about Taylor shooting Jeremy, or backing up the self-defense story and betraying Jeremy.

- We are not going to find out who killed Nolan.

- We’re finally going to meet Dr. Granger, hence “enter the professor.”

- The gang is going to find some blackmail material against Claire, and will use it to secure their positions at BHU.

- Taylor and Alison will get together (ugh).

- There will be no mention of Emily or Emison, and the shippers will freak out about it even though they were never promised anything.

- At some point, probably at the end, we’re going to get another moment with Mona talking to Beacon Guard through a mirror, indicating that that storyline hasn’t been forgotten.

- The biggest reveal will be that there’s a new A-like figure, and that it’s not Dana Booker (shocking, I know).

[kastlesource]

frank castle LITERALLY took a bullet for karen page

[kendalroys]

That other anon talking about TP reactions had me watching a couple and there was one where three dudes were watching 1x11 and in the beginning when Frank is by the fire and flashbacking to Maria etc, one of them was like 'Well he almost kissed Karen, so maybe he feels guilty' and then the other two were like 'no, he shouldn't, he's allowed to move on!' The funniest thing is that scene was honestly just about finding out Billy betrayed him but they were apparently as shook as us from 1x10 dknfjf

oh my god!!!! honestly I love when guys freak out about kastle and say stuff about it and recognize the chemistry and potential because honestly just proves the dumbass fanboys and super comic fans are just...weird and wrong and need to chill™

look, like I kinda knew all along Billy was a rat snake and would end up as fried lasagna/over roasted marshmallow, but his betrayal hit fucking DEEP, because of the stuff we saw with him and Frank and how much Frank loved him and saw him as a brother and omg :’(  

[officialgleewatch]

It’s time!

Second episode of the day!

how does it work?

To join you need a Netflix account, a desktop or laptop computer and have the free Chrome extension “Teleparty” (previously knows as Netflix Party) downloaded.

The only thing you have to do is open this link in Chrome and then click on the little red “Tp” logo at the top right on your screen. If you cant find it, please click on the little puzzle piece, this is where your extensions are hidden. You can now pin it so it’s always visible. Once you’ve done this, you will be taken to a synced steam with a chat on the right! The person hosting will be the only one able to play and pause the episode.

Everyone is welcome to join! If you wanna be added to the @ list just shoot me a message!

@crypticchikwholuvspizza @justasmalltownpig @finnmcnamhaira @blurglesmurfklaine @esperantoauthor @klainedrops-on-roses @klainetrashnumberone @cheesuswarbler @porcelain-nightbird @blog-carmex @kuhlaine @schuyler-gleekster @usurix @hotdamnitslauradreyfusss @mytrashunicorn @syntheticpoetry @glee-is-awesome20250407 @bowtiesnmusicals @spicylollipopss @klainetkm @kuiinncedes @netflixandshit18 @gorgxoxus @katimanki @coffeeorderwrites @tpwklaine @backslashdelta @brittelizzabeth​ @sapphic-squid​ @sunshinematteo @angelhummel @trent-warbler @clarasoswinoswalds @artccolfer @fearlessly-and-forever