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irisintheafterglow · 7 months

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every love I've known in comparison is a failure

summary: the stars appear over baratie, creating the perfect atmosphere to embarrass your husband. (opla!zoro x you)

wc: 2k

cw/tags: established relationship, swearing, allusions to canon-typical blood and violence, drinking and alcohol, flashback to a very silly meet ugly lol

note: (part one is linked here!) HELLO ZORO NATION, here is the highly requested part 2 to "if he's a ghost then i can be a phantom." hope you like it, i definitely had fun writing it because he's just,,,, such a himbo man. @alphaash99 thank you for the inbox ask, sorry it took so long to answer!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“I don’t know what else to tell you; that’s really all there is to it,” you laugh, taking another sip from your glass. “He brings me heads and I give him money.”

“Brought you heads,” your husband corrects from your side, his arm draped securely over your shoulders. “Right now, I’m the one with a fire under my ass.”

“Mhmm, but apparently I’m still giving you money,” you remind him, nodding toward the overflowing coin pouch of Berry at the center of the table. He shrugs a broad shoulder in defeat, unsuccessfully trying to hide his smile.

“Okay, but you’re leaving out the part where you somehow fell in love with this…oaf.” Nami gestures vaguely at the crew’s swordsman and his jaw drops in indignation. Luffy and Usopp break into another fit of delirious giggling while Sanji leaves to fetch yet another bottle. Everyone present knew his ego was bruised from his failed attempts to charm you. “I think he has less romantic appeal than an overripe banana.”

“At this point, just say that I’m ugly,” he chuckles lightheartedly and she shakes her head in exasperation. “I’m obviously not that bad since this is who I married.” The two remaining boys at the table give polite applause, to which Zoro murmurs his melodramatic appreciation like he was accepting an award. You couldn’t remember the last time he was this relaxed while he was drinking. Most of the time, you had to steer him to whatever ship he was calling home for the night while simultaneously preventing him from stabbing anything that moved.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Nami snorts and Zoro makes a mocking face that you raise your hand up to cover. “But, seriously. How’d he get you?” You pause, searching for words in your foggy mind and getting distracted by the speckling of midnight stars up above. Following the disastrous first meeting with the crew’s chef, their swordsman reluctantly introduced you to the rest of his new friends. You spent the remainder of the evening sipping a fruity drink with your legs crossed over your husband’s lap and regaling the table with embarrassing stories about their favorite stoic crewmate.

“In all honesty, our first meeting was a fluke,” you admit after some time. Sanji returns with a new bottle and pours himself a hefty glass before sliding it to the center of the group, settling in to listen to your story. “I was there by mistake; he was there by mistake. I guess the two canceled out.”

Years ago, when you were still confined to the walls of the Marine base, a series of unexpected changes in your itinerary allowed you an afternoon of freedom. You were visiting from your father’s countryside estate to once again ask if you could sail on one of his ships, only to receive the same dismissive answer as every request before. As if to rub more salt in the wound, he also notified you that Mihawk would be docking in two days time to continue your training. After jumping the gun a little too early and skipping the flattery dinner to get him drunk enough to grant your request, you were left with an extra day to wander the dry, lifeless walls of the installation. With a leg propped up on your father’s expensive leather chair and the other resting on the windowsill facing the ocean, you don’t bother turning when the door opens and the sound of boots echoes through the office.

“Get out and I won’t tell the captain you came in here,” you say boredly, staring at the vast blue water that seemed to spell out freedom in the seafoam. The voice that replies is too disrespectful to ever come from the mouth of one of your father’s underlings.

“I wasn’t aware the captain wore such promiscuous clothing.” You startle, swiveling abruptly to face the stranger that entered the room. He wasn’t a Marine at all, you quickly realized, not with that bright green hair and enough wrinkles in his clothes to look like your great grandfather’s forehead. But, what gave him away the most was his eyes. They weren’t like the eyes of other men you looked at, the ones who would cower or rake over you like you were some entree at a feast. No, this stranger looked at you curiously and with amusement that irked you.

He looked at you like you were a new challenge.

“Who are you?”

“Roronoa Zoro, the Pirate Hunter,” he replies and your eyes flick to his sharp jawline. If he weren’t in the room, you would have slapped yourself to regain your composure. “I have a bounty I’d like to turn in.” He tosses a burlap sack dripping with dark liquid onto your father’s equally expensive desk and you don’t even flinch. Your lack of a reaction seems to spur him further and he tilts his head to the side, studying you.

“What’d my old man promise you?”

“The captain is your father?” His eyes narrow on you and you glare, not backing down.

“Answer my question first,” you fire back without hesitation.

“Five hundred thousand Berry,” he answers and you nod, reaching over to one of the intricately carved drawers and pulling out a stack of bills and a dense pouch of coins. Rolling the bills into a wad and stuffing it into the coin purse, he catches it with ease when you toss it to him. “You’re not gonna verify if I’m giving you the right number?”

“That would imply that I care about how much you’re taking from my father,” you point out, “Which, I really don’t. I couldn’t care less, frankly, if you ransacked this entire office. Just don’t get caught or both our asses will have a fire under them.” He hums in assent and turns to leave, but as his hand hovers over the door handle, he hesitates and looks at you over his shoulder.

“What are you doing here by yourself?”

“Trying to figure out how to sneak out of this fucking hellhole,” you mutter with obvious distaste. A thoughtful look crosses his features and he chucks you a crumpled cloak from a nearby dressing table. “What are you–”

“Put it on. Let’s get out of here,” he states and you hastily throw it over your clothes, slipping behind the swordsman while he guides you out of the base. He knows his way around the tunnels and, with the cloak obscuring your identity, successfully sneaks you out of the dusty beige walls of the base. The smell of garlic and fried food wafts into your nostrils and you drift toward it, feeling in your pocket for your own small coin pouch. Zoro falls into step next to you effortlessly and follows you to the enticing grill. “Someone’s hungry.”

“I’ve been eating nothing but government slop for the past twenty four hours. If I have to see another spoonful hit my plate, I’ll actually die,” you deadpan and the corner of his mouth turns up in amusement. Without bothering to count the amount, you drop a handful of coins into the vendor’s roughened palms and ask for enough food to feed you and the man next to you. She gladly obliges, stacking various grilled sticks of food onto a plate and thanking you profusely for your generosity. “We’re gonna eat and you’re going to explain to me why you snuck me out,” you command and you’re glad to sense him continue to stay by your side.

During the few hours you spend with Zoro, you find yourself utterly enthralled by him and he is fascinated by you. You listen to his stories about hunts and his bounties and find yourself in awe of how non-arrogantly he speaks of his job. You’d sat down for numerous fancy dinners with egotistical Marines that wanted to sleep their way into good graces with your father, but eating with Zoro was nothing like that. He was an amazing listener and, when you thought he was just ignoring something you said, he ended up saying something just as thoughtful a few moments later. His visits became more frequent and you continued to find excuses to linger around the base in hopes that he would sneak you out again. Your father’s rage would end both of you if he ever found out, but the thrill of secrecy was your newest addiction.

“He asked to marry me a few years after I helped him empty my dad’s wallet,” you recall, fondly remembering the disaster that was his proposal. “He had this whole shabang planned out with a sunset and fancy cheeses–”

“And then it fucking rained,” he grumbles before taking another sip. “Fucking storm rolled in and blew away the entire setup.”

“That’s still romantic, though,” Luffy offers reassuringly. “Getting down on one knee in the rain.”

“It is,” you smirk, “if he didn’t drop the ring off the cliffside.” The crew erupts into shocked cackling, tears pricking the edges of their eyes.

“You dropped the fucking ring?”

“The wind was strong!”

“Wait, so then how’d you get that one?” Usopp points at the green gem embedded in the simple gold band. It was strikingly similar to the one hanging from a chain around your husband’s neck, a decision made so he didn’t lose it while he was fighting.

“He went out and bought one from the market the next day. It was, what, fifty Berry?”

“You bought them a cheap ass ring after you dropped the expensive one,” Nami echoes in disbelief. Zoro opens his mouth to argue but is cut off with even louder shrieks from the table. “How the hell did you pull them?”

“It’s something I ask myself every time I see this ring,” he concedes. “But one thing I do know is that they deserve more than I can ever give them.” The soft look on his face when he turns to you never fails to make your body feel like it’s floating. It’s only when Luffy slams his palms on the table decisively that you snap out of your lovesick trance.

“Alright, that settles it,” he states with finality.

“Settles what?”

“You’re going to join our crew.” Usopp raises his glass like he’d seen the order coming from miles away. Sanji turns a slightly darker shade of pink but doesn’t protest.

“I could use someone that isn’t oozing with testosterone on the ship,” Nami adds when you’re unable to respond immediately. You can feel Zoro’s body tense next to you and, when you place a comforting hand on his shoulder, it feels like pure stone. He knew firsthand that asking you to leave was a touchy subject, especially when it was hard for the child of a captain to disappear into the blue. If you were out there with him, he told you, he wouldn’t be able to assure your safety when he was on hunts. Though you both knew you could handle yourself just fine, it always seemed to be a matter of poor timing when it came to running away together. Poor timing, that is, until now.

Zoro wasn’t alone now, and you don’t even hesitate.

“Do I get to choose a cool signature weapon like everyone else?” The captain’s face breaks into a blinding grin and begins a long ramble of different weapons you could choose from. Your husband’s body hasn’t lost its stiffness and he lowers his voice to a tone that only you could hear.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His eyebrows furrow, unconvinced. “I said I’d do anything to be with you, didn’t I?”

“But piracy, love? You’re willing to go that far for me?”

“You know I’d go even farther if I needed to,” you murmur and that settles it. You catch an excited glint in Zoro’s eye and lean in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re not the only swordsman on the ship anymore, husband.”

“And I’ve finally gotten you out of that damned base, so I think it’s a good time to renew those vows.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n #zoro fluff #opla fluff #ask iris!#one piece x y/n

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lynxindisguise · 1 year

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Ch. 4 of Shorn and Scarred and Yours (my Slytherin! Sirius AU) is posted on ao3! Read it here.

Blacks do not catch feelings.

In this regard, Sirius has never had much trouble. He liked the power he had over girls, the way he could make groups of them dissolve into a fit of giggles with a single look. And there were several girls in his year he found pretty. If it hadn’t been for the expectation that his parents would arrange a marriage for him when he came of age, he probably would’ve picked one of them to date. But it seemed pointless, knowing that it couldn’t last.

No, the arranged marriage was the one aspect of being the Black heir that even the other Slytherins seemed to find archaic, and it was the only one he never really minded. It was a relief, really, an escape from all the mess and pain of dating. Sure, it would mean marrying a stranger or even a not-so-distant cousin, but it was safe, certain—someone guaranteed to stay by his side.

In fact, on the morning of his seventeenth birthday, the knowledge that he would no longer be granted that security in partnership weighed on him more heavily than he’d like to admit.

But by the evening of his seventeenth birthday, an entirely different problem was weighing on him. With the sudden flip of a switch he didn’t know existed, now all he can think about is kissing Remus Lupin.

No, that’s not entirely true; he also thinks about squeezing Remus Lupin’s waist and tugging on Remus Lupin’s curls and being held against a wall with Remus Lupin’s hands clutching his thighs…

But surely it’s just a fluke. Remus sneaking off with Shacklebolt put the thought his head, and then the high of sneaking out and getting tattooed, all while wearing extremely tight trousers… It was inevitable, really.

It’ll wear off. It will. With the full moon approaching, he likely won’t see Remus for a few days, and then he’ll return looking all gaunt and waxy, and the idea of kissing him will seem ridiculous at best and repulsive at worst. He’ll wonder how he ever had the thought in the first place...

Remus shows up to their next tutoring session looking gaunt and waxy and utterly beautiful.

Fuck.

#demisexual sirius #slytherin sirius #marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #marauders fanfiction #wolfstar fanfiction

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fastbreakpoints · 3 years

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gameday! | celtics @ knicks

#ur morning review of last night’s game #positives: rob played GREAT (16 pts 10 reb 3 ast 3 stl 5 blk and ONE (1) FOUL in FORTY FIVE (45) minutes. did a good job on randle #jaylen was UNBELIEVABLE and smart played really well for 85% of the game (except for a stretch in the 4Q). starting poing guard smart babyy #defense was also really good for most of the game and the mistakes were understandable because switching everything needs communication #to work and that will come with time (and al coming back will help too)#oh yeah #romeo allen: still a sniper #negatives: jayson had his usual first game yips took some weird shots and was a lil trigger happy from 3 instead of going to the rim or #passing the ball #grant got cooked by randle and didn’t do much offensively save for those 2 3s he hit in the 4Q #some defensive lapses liek a bunch of off-ball mistakes from rob and in transition and going under on fournier? but it’s fine #it’s literally the first game of the season the positives greatly upset the negatives and all the negatives are either a fluke (jayson #acting liek he couldn’t see the rim) or will fix themselves with time and practice (and when al comes back)#Idk I don’t get how people watched the game last night and weren’t majorly happy with what they saw #in ONE GAME this season they showed more fight and will to win than all of last season combined except for the spurs game and game 3 #vs brooklyn #hell yeah I’m happy lol #also in the last few years we had to great seasons when we lost the season opener (vs cle in 17-18 and vs philly in 19-20) and two dreadful #seasons when we won the first game (vs philly in 18-19 and vs mil in 20-21) so statistically #we’re on course for 60 wins this year ofc #lol #jayson tatum #play better next game bitch #boston celtics #nba #*#also I think he’s still getting used to his new muscles a lil bit #he is Huge lol #(I queued this late last night so I apologize if it’s incoherent)

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Hi!

Happy New Year! 😃 There’s so many to choose from but as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was the one I wanted to pick.

Prompt #35 from Prompt List #2 - Frankie Morales

Thank you!

#35: “About the baby...it’s yours.”

Ohhh, this is inch resting! Enjoy!

Frankie Morales x Reader ; warnings: pregnancy (and any and all things related to it), mentions of sex, drinking, smooches.

Frankie Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“No,” you sighed in frustration as you looked at the small white stick in your hands. It was a simple pregnancy test, but right now it felt like a ticking time bomb. You read over the singular word in frustration before tossing it onto the floor and watching as it skidded to a stop next to the bathtub.

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.

It couldn’t be right though, surely it had to be a false positive. But then...what about all the rest of the tests you had taken? All nine others were lined up on the counter, a testament to how determined you were to find out that you weren’t pregnant. But...could ten tests really be lying? What were the odds that all of them were false positives?

“Shit,” in a burst of anger you tossed them all off the counter and onto the floor, tears already running down your cheeks as you sank to the floor in frustration. How could this have happened? You were so careful every other time; you were on birth control and always made sure to have your partners use a condom. And yet...here you were. Pregnant and alone, crying on your bathroom floor.

You pulled your knees up to your chest as you decided to get all your tears out then and there before making a plan. One way or another, something was going to need to happen - and as soon as possible hopefully.

But then, as you sat there, crying and ignoring the incessant notifications on your going off on your phone, it hit you.

Frankie. Francisco Morales. He’d been the last person you had sex with.

Holy shit. No - there was no way. You couldn't be pregnant by your best friend that you'd secretly loved for years and had a drunken one night stand with. Absolutely not. Nope...that would be...the worst thing in the eternity of the universe. Some sort of vile joke that the universe would be playing on both of you. It couldn’t be him...no, no, no.

But...he was the last person you'd had sex with. And before then...it had been months since anyone else. Unless there was some sort of divine intervention on behalf of your uterus and you were some sort of abstinent Mary, Frankie Morales was the father of your baby.

The baby - not your baby. Rather, the small peanut inside of you. Referring to it as anything else was too...real. It was just a baby - a maybe baby. One you weren’t even sure you’d keep, wanted, or would tell Frankie about. But...shit. You couldn’t not. It would come out somehow, if not now, then later, in a moment of indiscretion, or another drunken evening. You had to tell him...even if it was just to let him know what happened before you made some sort of decision.

But what the hell were you supposed to tell him? Oh by the way, remember when we had sex two months ago? Yeah, well, I’m pregnant.

You must have forgotten to take your birth control, and neither of you must have had enough sense to remember a condom. Or one of the two failed...or both. Either way it was a perfect storm that resulted in the worst possibility.

The worst part of all?

Despite the upset and sheer terror you felt, there was a small part of you that wasn’t...entirely devastated. You’d never given much thought to children, having been perpetually single for the better part of the last decade, and hopelessly in love with your best friend. If there was a man that you wouldn't have minded children with, it would have been Frankie. He was a good man, always trying to be better, trying his best, and despite all the shit he’d been through in life, he still managed to have a soft, loving heart. He would have made a good father, that much you knew.

But shit. He was only your best friend, and unlike you, he wasn’t deep in love. Would he even want a baby? A child he’d have what - half custody of while you had the other? It would never work, it wasn’t meant to be...it just...no. There was no way in hell this was going to work out.

With that thought in your mind, you rested your head on your knees, crying and shaking as you tried to wrap your head around it all.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey,” you felt a soft touch on your arm as you heard your name being gently called, “hey, Bee...wake up.”

You opened your eyes, blinking away the dried tears and bleariness as you took in the face looking back down at you with a gentle smile. Momentarily forgetting your predicament, you offered him a smile of your own as he held out his hand to help you up to your feet.

“Frankie,” you gave him a curious look, “what are you doing here? It’s not movie night or anything.”

“I’ve been calling and texting,” he nodded in the direction of your discarded phone, which was blinking at you with notifications, “you didn’t answer and I got worried. It’s not like you. I wanted to see if you were up for getting a drink tonight? The brewery’s got a new ale out.”

“I...umm,” you quickly remember your situation as a sense of panic set into your bones. The tests and discarded boxes were still all over the floor, one right next to your phone. He had to have seen them. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded lightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Frankie.”

“Yeah,” he said as he gave everything the once over. Another worry suddenly crossed your mind; you’d been drinking the last two months. Granted it hadn’t been anything crazy, just a beer here and there and a glass of wine on occasion, but still. Shit. He cleared his throat awkwardly as you scurried around to pick everything up. Ever the gentleman, he stepped into help, pausing slightly when he noticed all the positive tests, “you...ugh...you’re pregnant?”

“I-I guess,” you offered him the most neutral look you could muster up, “I just ugh...found out. It’s a bit of a surprise to me too.”

“Oh...you don’t…” he swallowed thickly as he nodded, more to himself than anything else as wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole, “do you…”

“I don’t know a lot,” you cut him off before he could continue his line of questioning, “i didn’t really know I was...pregnant until I missed my period this month. I-I-I thought last month was a fluke but two months in a row is disconcerting. So I panicked and got some tests.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened as you could practically hear the gears turning in his head as you realized what you said. You might as well have told him then and there, “I thought you were…”

“I am,” you tried to cover up your own tracks, “I’m on birth control, so I’m also a little...surprised. I’m trying to keep calm, but in all honesty I’m freaking out.”

“It’s okay, Bee,” he promised softly as he gently put his hand on your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheek. It was hard not to melt into his touch and confess everything then and there, “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, whatever support you want, I’m here, every step of the way.”

“Frankie...I-I don’t know what to say…” your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to break down in a fit of tears again. It would be better to get it out in the open now and to just say it and let him know and -

“Either I get to be the best fun uncle, or...I’ll be here for you either way,” he insisted with a smile small before pulling you into a gentle, warm hug. You were stunned into silence, but decided to let things happen, wrapping your own arms around his waist as you buried your head in his chest.

You wouldn’t tell him now. But soon. You needed to. For your sake as well as his own.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was an odd feeling, walking out of the doctor’s office, clutching a stack of papers with more information than you knew what to do with, including a set of grainy black and white images. You’d cried - as you’d often been doing lately - but somehow you weren’t upset. It had been about two weeks since your surprise discovery, and with each passing day, it became more real.

You were still confused, more than you had ever been, but somehow you’d grown attached to the idea of the little bean that was inside of you. It was scary, more than anything else in life ever had been, but you...just...it was a lot.

No you just needed to tell Frankie.

It seemed like every time you’d tried, something or someone came up and interrupted, pulling his attention away or making it a most inopportune moment. But...shit. You couldn’t let this go much longer.

You’d tell him. Tonight. There was no doubt in your mind it was time to do it and then the pieces could fall wherever they landed and you’d figure it out. Keeping it from him just wouldn’t be fair, and you couldn’t imagine a world where you had this baby and Frankie only thought of himself of an uncle.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you walked into your apartment, ready to sit down and relax - and get yourself hyped to tell Frankie - before he came over for your weekly movie night.

But when you got in, your heart plummeted when you saw Frankie already in the kitchen, messing around with some snacks. Shit, shit, shit. He wasn’t supposed to be there for at least another two hours.

“Bee,” he grinned at you when spotted you, excitedly pointing at the various treats he was setting out, “you’re just in time!”

“And you’re early,” you tried to make light of it as you walked in and set everything down on the table, “I wasn’t expecting you for a while.”

“I know,” he grinned with a wink, “but I knew you’d be home soon, and wanted to do this for you. You’re dealing with a lot, and I just want to help however I can. How did it go? Did you get more information...what am I saying? Of course you did...how was it?”

“It was a lot,” you admitted, just like everything right now, “the doctor was really helpful and gave me so much information. But..ugh...the ba - it’s fine right now.”

“The baby?” he asked as you nodded, setting down the stack of papers, letting the sonogram images land on top, “you can call it a baby, Bee!”

“I know,” you huffed lightly with laughter at yourself, “it just...makes it feel so real. Calling it a baby. I dunno.”

“Bee’s having a baby...Baby Bee,” he said excitedly as he looked over your stack of papers, his soft brown eyes landing on the pictures, “maybe...a maybe Baby Bee…”

Before you could stop him, he reached for the sheet of images, bringing it up to his face as he furrowed his brows to study them closely. A small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he looked at them, and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. You were so in love with this man, it was almost painful sometimes. And you here you were, having his baby and he didn’t know, he wasn’t yours...that bad it all that much harder. Before you knew it, tears were running down your cheeks, and a sniffle escaped your lips.

“Umm, F-Frankie…: you whispered softly as he looked at you with a concerned expression, “about the baby...i-i-it’s...it’s yours.”

He stiffened for a moment, a million different expressions crossing his features as he looked between you and the sonograms and back at you. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, all he could manage was a small, “what?”

“I-I know I should have told you sooner, right when I found out and you came in,” you were crying now, a blubbering mess, “I just couldn’t do it...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this...you’re the only one I’ve been with in almost a year and I-I-I know it was a one night drunken thing, and I thought we were careful but this...just happened. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“It’s mine?” he asked softly as you nodded, watching as his eyes flicked to your still non-existent bump, “we’re having a baby? Together?”

“I-I know this isn’t what anything we expected,” you wiped at your eyes, “I-I don’t expect you to help or have anything to do with it, but I...I want to keep it…”

Frankie inhaled and exhaled deeply, setting the images back down before turning his attention to you. His gaze was on your face, eyes soft as ever before he closed the small distance between your bodies. Before you could ask what he was doing, his hands found your face, touching it tenderly for a few moments, almost as if he was asking you for permission, which you readily granted, before crashing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply.

And it felt so...perfect. So natural as his arms wrapped around your waist and you put yours around his neck and held him close. He didn’t let you go, reluctant to part his lips from yours for even a moment, only doing so when you were left dizzy and breathless.

“I love you, Bee,” he whispered softly, chasing your lips with his own, “always you, for so long. It wasn’t supposed to be a one night stand, I just got so foolish and scared…”

“I love you, Francisco,” you promised, “you’ve been it for me for so long. I never thought…I never thought you would love me back. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be loved by you.”

“You’ve been loved by me for so long,” he promised, “you never had to wonder. I should have told you sooner.”

“Now is good,” you grinned at him, your head spinning with everything that was going on, “now is perfect.”

“Bee,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, stopping at your lips, “and Baby Bee. I couldn’t ask for anything better. I am so in love with you.”

“I love you more than anything,” you ran a hand through his dark locks, a few tears already spilling down your cheeks again. He beamed at you, gently wiping them away, “but, Frankie...you’re okay...with the baby? Keeping the baby?”

“Yes,” he whispered softly, his own eyes glistening with tears as he nodded, “yes. I want this...I’ve always wanted this. I want everything with you - you and only you.”

“Francisco…” you smiled, and just like that, you lit up his entire world, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he breathed you in, “my Bee and Baby Bee. What more could I ever ask for?

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #forever-rogue's follower celebration

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loove-persevering · 3 years

Text

‘’you have to be okay’’ steve rogers x reader!

Description: [request!] The reader doesn’t listen on a mission and results in an injury that also brings up some feelings for Steve.

__________________

‘‘We’re going to need to talk sooner or later,’‘ You hear the all too familiar voice from behind you. It hurt to hear his voice at the moment but you felt better knowing that he at least wanted to talk about it. But it wasn’t him that confessed his feelings, yup that was all you.

‘‘Theres nothing to talk about,’‘ You say simply. ‘‘Nothing at all.’‘ You turn around facing him staring straight into the blue eyed man you had confessed your love to a few nights previously. ‘‘Let’s just get the mission done and we can go back to acting like it never happened, like I never said a thing.’‘ You offer.

‘‘We both know we can’t do that,’‘ He tells you sincerely.

‘‘We’ll were going to,’‘ You rebuttal, ‘’I want that conversation to never had happened,’’ You sigh, ‘’Can we do that?’’ You ask him.

He crosses his arm over his chest, ‘’I don’t think I can,’’ He explains.

You groan throwing your head back out of annoyance, ‘’I told you I loved you, you said you couldn’t say it back. I accept that but I don’t want to talk about it anymore.’’ You tell him almost pleading for him to forget about it.

‘’You’re embarrassed.’’ He points out, ‘‘We still need to have that conversation.’‘ He reinforces.

‘‘Hell yeah I am embarrassed, I threw it out on the line to tell you and you give me all these mixed signals like you love me and about moving on from the past and here you are still stuck Steve.’‘ You explain. ‘‘I’m never going to be her, and if you can’t move past her we can’t move forward.’‘ You explain. ‘‘I get it you loved her but that was over fifty years ago Steve, I love you so much but I can’t wait forever.’‘ You tell him, ‘‘It’s not fair,’‘ You explain and he nods his head seemingly understanding where you were coming from.

‘‘I think I just need more time,’‘ He explains.

You smile to yourself realizing that time seemed to be the issue at hand, ‘’I’ll give you all the time you need Captain,’’ You say before the purple mist and the rush of air filled your ears, a moment later you were in the common room of the compound away from the room that seemed to just keep growing smaller and smaller.

‘‘When did you get here?’‘ Tony asks the armor covering his face sliding up.

‘‘Like two seconds ago,’‘ You explain to him.

‘‘Must be nice if your running late,’‘ He says making a pretty good point actually. ‘‘Speaking of which, Rogers!’‘ He yells out and you see Steve come from around the corner not meeting your gaze. ‘’Let’s go!’’ He tells you and Steve, ‘’Natasha is already on the jet.’’ He explains and you were the first to move to get the passenger pilot seat which means you wouldn’t be stuck next to Steve for the flight there.

_________________________

‘‘How we doing out there?’‘ You hear Tony on coms. ‘’Y/N?’’ You hear him ask specifically.

‘‘Still trying to find the room,’‘ You explain. It was hard for you to teleport in areas you weren’t familiar with you never knew what room you’d end up in. You had studied the layout of this specific building but what was in the rooms was what you had worried about. You had already given that you were here when you popped up in a room full of soldiers who were very big and kinda scary.

‘‘No rush,’‘ You hear him say but there was sarcasm dripping from his voice. ‘‘We’ll hold down the fort,’‘ He explains. ‘‘Looks like they’re sending in more soldiers from a bunker near by I’m seeing cars full of them headed our way. We gotta make this snippy,’‘ He tells everyone.

‘‘I can find it just give me a minute!’‘ You tell him not wanting to not finish the mission.

‘‘Theres too many get back to the jet,’‘ You hear Steve chime in and you had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the sound of his voice.

You don’t say anything you just keep shifting from room to room till you found the box of serums they had stolen that could potentially be used as a weapon. They were deadly in the hands of the wrong people and HYDRA were the wrong hands. ‘’Y/N?’’ You hear Natasha over the radio, ‘’Where are you?’’ She asks.

‘‘I have three more rooms, it has to be in one of them,’‘ You explain.

‘‘Y/N get back to the jet now,’‘ You hear Steve come over coms, ‘‘Not debatable,’‘ He says.

‘’Another minute,’‘ You tell him.

‘‘You should really get back to the jet Y/N,’‘ Natasha says warningly.

You were finally on the second to the last room when you saw it, there the few samples were in a fridge across the room, the room was a lot larger than the rest you had been in and it was completely vacant. ‘’I found it,’’ You chime in.

‘‘Time is precious,’‘ You hear Tony say.

‘‘Just a second,’‘ You tell them. You can hear Steve yelling at you over the coms telling you that you needed to get out as quickly as you could. ‘‘Rogers just shut up a second would ya?’‘ You say taking the piece out of your ear not bothering to hear the nagging they were doing.

You walk over to the samples they were all in a glass container just a few of them, luckily it looked like they hadn’t run any test or even used a bottle yet. You open the cooler where they were and pull them out they were a bit heavier than you expected, when you turned around you notice the reflection of a red beam, you furrow your eyebrows confused what this would be and then you realized your eyes widening.

You heard the shatter of glass and then immediately the air closed in around you and when you opened your eyes you were back on the quinjet the team staring at you expectantly. You could see there eyes turn from shock to worry and Steve was suddenly pushing his way through from the front of the jet to you his eyes full of panic and worry. ‘’Y/N?’’ He says but it was muffled.

You glance down as he makes his way over finally his hands resting on your shoulders, you notice the broken test tube glasses and blood coming through your uniform. You weren’t quick enough and now you were shot with some type of serum that hadn’t been tested on humans yet, ‘’Steve,’’ You say panicked and he looked at you completely terrified.

‘‘Hey, you’re okay, you’re gonna be fine you hear me?’‘ He says his hands cupping your face. ‘‘You’re gonna be just fine,’‘ He explains but even you could see the tears in his eyes.

‘‘We need to lay her down,’‘ You hear Tony say, ‘‘She’s gonna pass out,’’ He tells everyone.

Everyones panic seemed to set in because Steve held you close as everyone else buckled into the jet, he kept talking to you trying to keep you awake and the last thing you heard before it all went completely dark was Steve saying, ‘’You have to be okay.’’

___________

The clock read 03:07 A.M. when you woke up for the first time, you instinctively reached up feeling all the wires on your chest and you tried to pull them off. ‘’Doll, keep those on okay?’’ You hear the familiar voice. It was so good to hear his voice.

‘‘You’re here?’‘ You ask him and you see his body shift up from the smaller bed in your room. ‘‘Where are we?’’ You ask him your voice cracking at the end.

Steve sighs walking over to you, his hair had grown out slightly as well as a beard and that was when you realized you had been well not awake for a while. ‘’I should go get the doctor,’’ He says sitting at the edge of your bed, too far from you if you had a say in it. He turns his head toward the door and you start to push yourself up so you weren’t laying down. ‘’Careful,’’ He says his hand instinctively reaching out.

‘‘How long have I been out?’‘ You ask him your head still spinning. The look on Steve’s face seemed to tell you it was longer than he wanted, ‘‘How long?’‘ You ask pushing yourself up more.

‘‘About a month,’‘ He tells you. ‘‘The shot wasn’t fatal but the serum whatever it was it almost killed you,’‘ He couldn’t even meet your eye. ‘’I told you to get out of there. If you had just listened then we wouldn’t-’’

‘‘We finished the mission, who knows what would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten those samples.’‘ You tell him.

‘‘You wouldn’t have almost died! That’s what would’ve happened,’‘ He says his voice getting louder and louder. ‘’We had no idea what was in that serum and it went into the wound you got from the shot, and we’ve been waiting for you to just wake up although we weren’t really sure you were going to.’’ He says.

‘‘Well I’m resilient,’‘ You say crossing your arms over your chest.

He lets out a huff but it sounded like a laugh, ‘’I love you,’’ He tells you and you felt yourself freeze. ‘’That day when you left I realized I was messing up the one thing that Peggy and I could never have.’’

‘‘And what’s that,’‘ You ask not in a sarcastic tone, but just a generally curious one.

‘‘A future,’‘ He says. ‘‘And I can have that with you, and I took that for granted I found that out the day you were shot.’‘ He tells you. ‘’I was scared I was gonna lose you, and I don’t want to know what that’s like.’’ He tells you.

‘‘Well I don’t plan on going anywhere,’‘ You tell him a smile forming on your face. ‘‘Now come on over here,’‘ You say scooting over as much as you could, Steve looked at you like you were crazy. ‘’Come on,’’ You tell him patting the open space next to you.

‘’I’m following your orders now?’’ He asks.

‘‘Yes, yes you are.’‘ You tell him, ‘‘Can you tell me you love me again so I know that wasn’t a fluke?’‘ You say laughing slightly and you can feel his chest move up and down laughing along with you.

‘‘I love you.’‘‘ He says.

Thanks for reading! REQUEST ARE OPEN! I didn’t proof ily though

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel blurb #Chris Evans #chris evans imagine #Chris Evans fandom #chris evans x reader

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Inception: Chapter 5

"Pft! I-Ahahaha!" You were doubled over the table trying to stop yourself from choking on your food while Ajax crinkled his nose in disdain. The two of you were at Xinyue Kiosk for a late-night dinner that he had insisted was his treat. You've only ate at fancy food places like this every once in awhile; these meals were so freaking expensive! Your initial hesitance to join Ajax on the basis of money was soon overshadowed by the entertaining sight sitting across the table.

"Tch...tsk..." With every effort, he grew more impatient and frustrated. It didn't help that you were watching and laughing at his incompetent efforts to use chopsticks! "Ugh! Forget it!" He gave up and stabbed one of his sushi rolls rather violently before shoving it into his mouth with a pout. Ajax turned away from you as his face grew redder and redder, but he couldn't help glancing back to see the smile on your face and the tears of joy rolling down your cheeks. Well, as long as this brought you joy...at his own expense...He let out a huff before reaching for his drink. At least whatever bitterness you held towards him last week seemed to disappear.

"I-I can't believe you...! I can't take it!" At long last your laughing fit died down enough so you could breathe, and you reached up to wipe your tears away. "Pft...! I'm sorry, but this is too funny!"

"Yeah yeah," Ajax sighed yet again, his confidence deflating like a balloon and his posture slouching. What a way to impress a girl. He should've went for the fork first!

Noticing his sudden change of attitude, you slipped out of your seat and joined his side, leaning over him. "Here," you swiped the chopsticks off of his plate and placed them in his hand once again, this time so they were in the correct positions. "Now you've got the right hold on them." Your fingers were still draped over his while you guided the sticks to another piece of sushi.

Contrary to your concentration on helping, Ajax was a bit more flustered than usual and it wasn't because of the chopsticks. For some reason his heart fluttered at the sudden lack of distance between the two of you, just like that night under the light of the Mingxiao lantern. 'You think I'm in love with childhood friend? My my my, Mr. Zhongli, perhaps you've finally lost your marbles after spending so much time with mortals,' he recollected. No...there's no way Zhongli's right about this. This is all a fluke! But your hand was so warm, no doubt because of your pyro vision...how long had it been since he felt such gentleness from another person? The closest he's ever come to human contact was by beating his foes senseless! And when was the last time he had a genuine hug? It's been years, he realized, since before the inception of my Fatui status.

"There, see? You'll get the hang of it." He snapped back to the present when your hand quickly left his. Whatever light had begun to gleam in his eyes faded just like the heat from your touch, and he watched you sit back down at your end of the table. "You're not completely hopeless at chopsticks," you smirked.

"You're right, ojou-chan. One day I'll surpass you when it comes to these cursed utensils!" He hid his feelings by attempting to put your lesson to use, but failed drastically again and again. It was obvious he didn't pay attention to a single thing you had told him to do! The boyish desire to one-up his best friend made you giggle again.

Somewhere behind the decorated divider that made up your private dining space sat the eyes and ears of the wolf. Following Master Childe around proved to be fruitful just as expected; while the harbinger often held private meetings and dinners to get closer to clients, this one felt different based on all the others that Charlie had followed him to. There was a distinct familiarity--one that Childe was definitely not faking for the sake of deceit and was shared with the mysterious girl sitting at the other end of the table.

I see, thought Charlie while his ears strained to pick up the other noncoherent whispers on the other side of the screen. He'd been following Childe around all week and had quickly picked up on the harbinger's avoidance of his own men so that he could spend time with you. Clearly, this woman must hold a special place in Childe's heart--an old flame, maybe? Regardless of the specifics of your relationship with him, it would make the most sense for you to be the vigilante Childe has neglected to capture; the merciless blood-thirsty harbinger would've gone in for the kill if it were any other person, but since it's you...you'd be protected. Sheltered. Allowed to get away with tormenting the Fatui since you're so close to Childe. You're untouchable.

Of course, this was all just a theory. To properly identify you as the vigilante Master seeks, he'd have to follow you around instead.

A chill ran down Childe's back out of nowhere; something's wrong. While he continued to struggle with the remainder of the sushi, his gaze darted to every which-way to identify anything out of the ordinary. He was sure the two of you weren't followed, and he had made every effort possible to avoid his subordinates on the way here, even setting up a private room that isn't too common in the Kiosk. Still, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. You noticed the sudden tension in the air around him, and stared until he noticed.

"What's wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing," his voice lower than a minute ago, "Please excuse me, ojou-chan. I need to use the restroom." He slipped out between two of the dividers and froze once he was out of your sight. The remainder of the room was deserted. How odd...the tension in his shoulders slowly faded as he was put at ease.

"Excuse me," a petite voice drug him out of his thoughts and he was greeted by the waitress. She held a silver platter with a pair of matching deserts on it. "Oh, have you changed your mind on desert after all?"

"No, not at all. Please, allow me." He took the tray from her and watched her exit the room. With one final skeptical glance around the room, he returned to the inside of the dividers.

"Oh, and before I forget," Childe began to dig into a delicious chocolate desert you didn't remember the name of but seemed to be some sort of cake. "I have a business trip coming up at the end of this week in Mondstat."

"Oh really? That sounds fun. How long will you be gone?"

"For a few days at the least. Actually, I was wondering if you'd join me."

Your forkful of chocolate-something froze in midair. "...Join...you...? But I don't have anything to do with your company...I'd be a distraction, don't you think? Plus there's my business with the funeral parlor and I don't think I can request days off on such short--"

"I've already spoken to Zhongli about it. He and Hu Tao cleared you as of last night. So, what do you say? Wouldn't this also give you the chance to visit some of your friends there anyway?"

"Well...yes..." you mumbled with a slight blush.

"What do you have to lose? Think of it as a much-needed vacation. You work too hard from what I've heard from Zhongli! Besides, we can use this opportunity to learn more about each other, don't you think?" Seeing your hesitation, he let out a defeated chuckle and shrugged. "Of course, that's if you want to come with me. If not, I understand."

"I..." Well if my superiors approved, then I guess there's nothing wrong with taking a trip, right? "Okay, I'll come with you."

................................................

The quiet peacefulness of Liyuan wilderness was disrupted by an exhausted groan and the dragging of feet. "Ugh, since when was it ever this hot in Liyue?" Your clothes were soaked in sweat from the summer-like heat despite your vision granting you resistance, but Childe appeared mostly unbothered--mostly. He didn't show it, but when you'd look elsewhere he'd often pull at his collar and reminisce of the harsh winters of the Motherland. "Thank the archons that the sun is finally setting."

"We've already passed Wangshu Inn, but it's not too late to turn back and spend the night there. Are you sure you want to sleep in the woods, Reed? You'd be passing up the chance to cuddle me, you know." He reveled in your half-disgusted, half-flustered reaction while you struggled to fully comprehend his words.

"Q-Quit it! Like I've said before, this wouldn't be my first trip to Mond. I have no problem lying on the ground! Or are you saying you can't handle it?" Flipping the subject onto him did no good at hiding your flushing skin; the arrogant smirk on his face proved it. "...Why don't we stay here? There's the creek nearby, and a clearing up ahead."

Childe eyed the surrounding area and set his pack down. "If the lady insists." The pleasant aroma of packed food filled the two of you with delight. "Shall I begin cooking dinner?"

"I wouldn't mind," you practically drooled. Ajax's cooking was amazing! After that initial dinner when both of you reunited, he would sometimes surprise you with homecooked meals to take home and man were you excited for the next time he offered. A toy seller and a cook...his younger siblings must live a luxury! "I'll get some water!"

The creek wasn't too far away--perhaps some fifty feet or so. The crystalline waters murmured quietly over the pebbles and stones, some spaces louder, others quieter where the fish gathered. If it wasn't getting darker by the minute and the threat of hilichurls wasn't so prominent, you could've stayed here much longer. Not that hilichurls posed that much of a threat to someone acquainted with your fighting skills, but you've only come across them once or twice, and the giant ones could easily bulldoze through you if given the chance.

Once the pot of water was full you rose to walk back to your little makeshift camp. Ajax had insisted on bringing fresh produce since the trip to Mondstat wasn't a particularly long one and the trip was rather straightforward. Maybe he was going to make stew? Whatever he chose, you just hoped none of the food spoiled from the sun beating down on the packs all day.

By the time you got back, Ajax had already managed to start a fire and was humming some unknown tune while preparing the produce. You couldn't help but raise a brow and tighten your hold on the pot. "Um...really?"

"Hm?" His eyes slid to you, then back to the fire. "Oh! Sorry, I wasn't thinking. Don't worry, Reed. It won't bite you."

"I'm not coming close enough to feel the heat on my skin. Here," you thrust the pot towards him and he made sure to grab it before the water spilled over. Your light footsteps got quieter the further you strayed from Ajax and the fire, taking shelter beneath one of the far trees where your packs lay.

"Relax, ojou-chan. I won't let it hurt you." A small chuckle escaped him before he resumed his humming session without a second thought or noticing your silence.

You really don't remember...You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. What did they do to you, Ajax?

Your silence carried on until the crickets duetted with the occasional hoots of a nearby owl and the crackling of the fire weighed heavily on your mind. "I'm sorry, ojou-chan."

"Mm?" He had stopped rambling about some disagreement he and a coworker had about communication and was now looking directly at you.

"I'll put out the fire," he moved.

"No, you need to stay warm."

"I wouldn't say that." He drug out a blanket from his pack and laid it in the space between where he sat by the fire and you, who sat at the tree behind him. "Here. You'll lay on that side, I'll lay next to the fire."

Your eyes narrowed at the flickering flames behind him. "Is that even safe?"

"Well if the fire ever gets out of control, you or I can put it out," he reasoned and pat the spot next to him until you reluctantly obliged. He didn't lay down until you were settled in with your back facing him. Silence befell the campsite until he took a deep breath. "What's on your mind, Reed?"

It took a few minutes for the answer to come out. "Do you not remember our last encounter before my mother and I left Snezhnaya?"

"Now that you mention it, not really." He remembered a vague goodbye, but nothing else about it. It was sometime right after he returned from the abyss if he got his timeline correct. Feeling a tad nervous for whatever reason now, he let out a small laugh. "Could you possibly enlighten--" You rolled around so you faced him and met his gaze with tears. That's when his memory came rushing back.

"Ajax! Ajax!" You ran at him full speed with hot tears spilling down your cheeks until you collided with him in a tight embrace. "I--I thought they got you too!" He seemed to freeze under your touch, so you pulled away to look him over. He appeared tired and wild for lack of a better term, with eyes as wide as saucers like a snow leopard meeting a human for the first time. He was different, but you couldn't put your finger on how.

"'Too?'"

"The Fatui," you sobbed. "A day after you went missing, my house...my daddy..."

His words came out as harsh as the cold with not a hint of his kind demeanor shining through. "Spit it out."

"You know how my daddy fights against the Fatui in my town? They burned my house down and...and daddy..." Was your face red from crying all day or from the cold? "...he burned with it." Ajax didn't seem injured, so some of the stress weighing your shoulders down dissipated a bit now that you knew your dear friend wasn't hurt.

But instead of Ajax explaining where he was or consoling you for the loss of your father, a horrid giggle pierced through the snowscape. It was inhuman, what with its pitch sending an icy chill down your spine and instantly replacing your expression of sorrow to one of confusion and horror. "Ha...Hahahaha! Hahahahah!"

"Why are you laughing? This isn't funny!"

"Ahahaha! Silly Reed," he chided and pat your head like one consoles a younger sibling, "in this world, only the strong survive. Your father wasn't strong enough." The girl before him trembled at his words. "He was too weak if he died like that."

"Th--This isn't funny, Ajax! Cut it--OW!" You were shoved into the snow with an unfamiliar strength. Ajax never raised a hand at you, even when you two played together. What was he--

A dangerous glint danced in his eyes like the fire that consumed your house two days ago. "No, you cut it out! You're gonna get yourself killed if you keep acting weak. The world has no mercy on people like us. It's kill or be killed. Do you understand that, Reed?"

"Why are you...What is the matter with you?! Don't you care? What did the Fatui do to you?! Who even are you?" Hot tears rolled down your cheeks until the cold froze them in their tracks. Yet the boy that stared down at you was uncaring, cruel, and held no life in his eyes.

"It wasn't the Fatui," he muttered to himself. "Hurry up and get on with it already. What was really so important that you needed to tell me your dad died?"

"My mama and I...we're leaving tomorrow. I came to make sure you were okay and to say goodbye. We won't see each other again, Ajax," you finally rose to your feet and clenched your fists. "But you don't care, do you?"

"No. I don't. Leave me alone already."

"I..." Ajax blinked several times as he processed his long-forgotten memory. "I'm so sorry, Reed."

"If you're so sorry, then tell me what happened. What did the Fatui do to you?" Even in the dark, you could see a hint of sadness in the depths of his eyes. "If they hurt you too I swear...I swear I'll make every single one of them pay." Heat radiated from your body at the thought. "I promise." Yet even as you said this, there was another, darker, more bittersweet emotion in his expression.

"I...fell into the Abyss." Those were the only words he muttered before rolling onto his other side, facing away from you. And though you didn't really understand what he meant, his empty tone struck a cord within you. Warm arms gently wrapped around his torso with a heat softer than the campfire that lulled him to sleep.

#genshin x reader #childe genshin impact #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia fluff #childe tartaglia #wesimpforxiaoupdates #genshin impact

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ascalonianpicnic · 3 years

Text

so the twisted marionette is back and it seems like a good time for this~ @mystery-salad requested I do an essay on Scarlet and discrimination in STEM so~

Warning: discussions of sexism, racism, and ableism. If I got anything wrong (in terms of real world issues) or was disrespectful in any way about certain subjects please let me know

Hey, let's talk about Scarlet Briar.

More specifically, I wanna talk about Ceara, and how she became Scarlet Briar. Because I'm a gay mathematician and former computer science major, and I think Scarlet is cool.

So let's start here. STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) is a heavily male dominated set of fields and career paths. A few decades back in the real world, there was this deep set societal belief, at least in western society, that cis women were just "worse" at STEM related things like math and chemistry. It's not as visible of an issue now, but, like I said, STEM fields are still really male dominated, and that's because STEM fields still have a massive issue with sexism. Women have full on left the field due to the sexism they faced in workplaces in just the last decade. Trans women in STEM share really interesting and important personal accounts about how before transitioning, they were treated with respect, offered high level jobs, and entrusted with loads of responsibility, and how post transition, despite having even more experience, are offered significantly lower level jobs, worse pay, and are all around treated like they know less. STEM has a sexism problem.

So, why is this important to Scarlet? Well, her backstory and her life before Omadd's Machine actually tie in to this real world issue in a really fascinating way. It's about Respect. And Scarlet's story is about how she was denied respect over and over, because she was a sylvari, because she was a woman, and because she was neurodivergent. Let's talk about Ceara.

Ceara was a sylvari secondborn, and an engineer from the start. She emerged from the Pale Tree when her race was still brand new to the world and largely unknown. She spent 8 years of her life studying all the Grove had to offer her about mechanics and nature and the universe. She was born curious and as such, was determined to learn everything and anything she could get her hands on. After her time in the Grove, Ceara left, off to find new teachers and extend her knowledge further. After the Grove cane Beigarth, a famed norn smith. He gladly took Ceara under his wing, seeing her genius and potential. For a year, she trained under him, his best student. Then, much to his dismay, she left, feeling she had learned all he could offer about what she wanted to know. She moved south, going to study under iron legion gladium and demolitionist Asagai. Asagai was an old charr, and it took some convincing on Ceara's end, but she eventually took the sylvari in and taught her about gunsmithing and artillery. And after two years, Ceara moved on again, this time heading for Rata Sum and its colleges.

The asura of Rata Sum did Not like Ceara. She had to fight to be allowed to study at the colleges. She won in the end, being admitted into the college of Dynamics. Within a year, she finished the course work, and, feeling like she was finally getting somewhere, she applied again, this time getting admitted to Statics. Two years and two colleges down, at the top of her class both times, Scarlet still wanted more. The Arcane council was curious now if she could keep this streak up, so they let her enter Synergetics. This was what she had been looking for, and she got deep into her studies, taking her time. The Arcane council was unimpressed with her work at best. While not driven from the colleges, she found herself being walked off and looked down on more and more, so she sought other sources. These other sources, both of knowledge and support, came from the inquest, and it wasn't long before she fell in deep. It didn't last, however. When the krewe she was working with ran into trouble, she was abandoned as a scapegoat, and thrown out of the asuran colleges. She wandered on her own for a while, taking the time to study alchemy with the michotl hylek, but mostly keeping to herself. Until Omadd found her, pulled her back into his personal research, and, with her help, built Omadd's machine. Once it was finished, Ceara walked in, and Scarlet walked out.

Sexism in STEM means that people perceived as female are often perceived as knowing or understanding less than they actually do. It's because of this that you'll find young cis male students in STEM classes trying to correct or speak over their female presenting professors. It's why you'll find men at science conferences telling the women presenting for certain topics that they don't seem to understand the topic they're covering or grasp the basics that well, and then recommending or referencing books and research papers written by these women. It means that women will often be overlooked for internships, research positions, and grants. And that is the sort of thing Scarlet faced as a young woman trying to learn everything she could. She had to work for the apprenticeships she could get, and with Beigarth, despite how highly he thought of her, she had to work harder to prove she was ready for more each step of the way. Finding anyone to teach her at all among the charr was a struggle, until an older woman took her in. And no one in Rata Sum took her seriously.

There was more than just the fact that Scarlet was a woman at play with Rata Sum though. As stated, STEM has a bad sexism problem. But that's not all. STEM isn't just mostly men, but also mostly white men, and as such, the fields have a bit of a racism problem as well. Personally, I can only speak so much to this as I myself am white, have never faced racism, and never will face racism. I do know that the intelligence, skill, and effort of people of color goes largely unacknowledged. They will be denied the same opportunities and respect that their white peers receive, and their work and contributions will be ignored, exploited, and stolen.

Racism in Tyria isn't the same as it is in the real world, though it is still present there, and prevalent. And it is something Scarlet has to face and struggle with repeatedly as a sylvari. The sylvari are young and new to Tyria. Because of this, the other prominent groups all tend to think of sylvari as innocent, ignorant, and overly naive. The asura are especially bad about this. They already think of themselves as the smartest of Tyria's inhabitants, above everyone else. And when they first encounter the sylvari, the asura refuse to believe this new group could even be sentient. So, when 11 year old Ceara shows up at the colleges, the Arcane Council and the asura in general doubt she could possibly understand asuran studies. She's a sylvari, after all, and just a girl on top of that. There's surely no way she could keep up.

So when this young sylvari girl finishes at the top of her class in just a year, not once but twice, the Arcane council is intrigued. They don't respect her. They don't hold her work in high esteem. But they do want to know if this is some sort of fluke or if she can do it again. So she's admitted into the third and final college, and when she gets caught up in her studies, genuinely interested and invested in what she's learning and wanting to take her time to take it all in, the Council is disappointed. Never mind that Scarlet has already done what no other non-asura has. She took too long doing what she loved, learning, so the Council dismisses her, and dismisses her hard work. Her theories are looked down upon and ignored, and she is left with only support from Omadd, who can use her and her theories for his own gain, and the inquest. Omadd and the inquest make her feel valued and respected. The inquest let's her try anything she wants, it lets her really explore the fields of study she's most drawn to. The inquest makes sure to profit off her hard work and, when it comes down to it, the inquest leaves her to take the fall for everything. It's easy, after all, to pin the blame on someone already so looked down on by the society she's in. Scarlet is kicked out of the colleges and the city. She loses her access to information, her belongings, and even her own research and findings. All her hard work, taken from her because the inquest was more than glad to use a sylvari.

And then of course, there's Omadd. He was glad to have Scarlet as a lab assistant, and endlessly fascinated by and supportive of her work. So once she's gone from Rata Sum, he leaves too, taking her research and starting on his own personal project. He gets stuck, he seeks Scarlet out, and he convinces her to help him again. Once Scarlet is back on board, the project goes smoothly and the two construct Omadd's Machine. Omadd's. Despite being built off Scarlet's theories and research, despite her being integral to the construction of this machine, it's Omadd's and it carries his name. Funny how that happens, isn't it? And once the machine is up and running, he thinks Scarlet should test it first. Who knows what could happen in there, better to leave it up to the assistant to try it out, and frame it as her getting the honor of the first try. As we all know, it goes poorly. Scarlet learns so much more, all the knowledge she had been seeking for over a decade, but in return, the seeds of Mordremoth are planted in her mind and slowly take over, destroying her.

Now Scarlet, who has been used and devalued and disrespected and infantilized every step of the way, her whole life, is going to start tearing down the things that held her back for so long. She just needs a plan, and with the help of a certain sleeping dragon, one begins to form.

There's something I glossed over earlier that is so important to note, and that's how Scarlet was treated in the Grove. Now, it's been stated explicitly by Scott McGough, a narrative designer for the fame, that Scarlet emerged with lacking empathy. Low empathy doesn't make Scarlet, or anyone, a bad person. It's sometimes a symptom of autism, as well as some personality disorders, and it does affect how Scarlet is treated. As an autistic person myself, Scarlet very much reads as autistic to me, between low empathy, a one track mind, and an intense special interest in the universe and its mechanics. She has a hard time connecting with others, is easily bored by subjects that don't relate back to her special interest, can focus intently on and get caught up in her work, and doesn't really get social graces or expectations. Regardless of any diagnosis she would have if she existed in our world, Scarlet is treated differently due to her low empathy, a trait she cannot help about herself.

From the moment she emerges in the Grove, she is treated differently. She is talked down to. Her desire to take in her first sights and how it overwhelms her is dismissed as overconfidence and rudeness. Her own brother, barely older than her, talks like he knows so much more than her. Scarlet is an outsider among her own people. How does it feel to have low empathy among a race connected to each other deeply through empathy? Probably not great. Her studies in the Grove are limited, she is treated as rude and prideful for wanting to be independent and needing space. Rather than being accommodated, rather than being understood, Scarlet is infantilized, dismissed, and disregarded. She isn't neurotypical. She was born different. She's punished for it.

When she emerges from Omadd's Machine, made from her own hard work and creativity, Scarlet Briar is a young woman who has frequently been overlooked and rarely understood. All these thoughts and ideas, all this passion, and the only people who have ever even seemed to understand her have used and betrayed her so thoroughly. Scarlet Briar has always had to look out for and take care of herself, as a woman, as a sylvari, as someone who is neurodivergent and is in a field that doesn't respect a single aspect of her identity. The world won't accommodate her and the world won't take her seriously. So why shouldn't she show the world what she can do? Why not force everyone to recognize her for who she is? Why not give in just a little to that voice that has been calling to her in her nightmares since she left the machine? After all, it promises power and recognition and a sense of belonging.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #scarlet briar #my essays #anyway uvu

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csnews · 3 years

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5 beluga whales flown from Canada make a splash at new home in Mystic

Taylor Hartz - May 15, 2021

In the glow of the moonlight late Friday night, a flash of bright white wriggled against the dark sky — a young beluga whale named Jetta, being lifted by a crane.

Jetta and two other belugas from Canada flew into Groton-New London airport on a private plane Friday afternoon and received a police escort to their new home: Mystic Aquarium. Two more whales caught the next flight out and made the same journey early Saturday.

The whales, all between 5 and 6 years old, were brought to Mystic from Marineland in Ontario, Canada, where they were living in an overcrowded tank with 47 other beluga whales.

Mystic Aquarium has been involved in a yearslong process of moving the whales to their spacious new home, the Arctic Coast habitat, joining the aquarium’s three resident belugas: Juno, an 18-year-old male; Natasha, a 41-year-old female; and Kela, a 40-year-old female. Their goal is to work with the whales to pioneer new research methods that will help protect and save wild beluga populations.

“These animals are really, truly ambassadors for their wild counterparts,” said Allison Tuttle, vice president of biological programs at Mystic Aquarium, who traveled to Canada and flew back with two of the whales.

The whales will be a part of non-invasive research at the aquarium that is meant to help with conservation efforts to protect wild belugas. The decision to transport the whales to Mystic from Canada has been a controversial one, however, with many animal rights groups speaking out against the move. The Canadian government this past week approved a permit that allowed the transport to move forward.

Jetta was joined on Friday by travel companions Havana and Kharabali, both females, on the flight from Hamilton International Airport to Groton. After some delays, the plane touched down about 5:45 p.m. and the whales — kept in large, open-air cargo containers filled with water — were loaded off the plane and onto the flatbeds of three waiting trucks.

It took about 2½ hours to fly the first three whales from the Niagara Falls area to Groton and another three to four hours to get them each from the tarmac to the tank. Jetta is 762 pounds and 10 feet 2.8 inches long, Havana is 924 pounds and 10 feet 3.6 inches, and Kharabali is 818 pounds and 10 feet 7.6 inches.

The last two whales, Havok and Sahara, arrived at Hamilton airport about 6 p.m. and had not yet landed in Groton as of 2 a.m.

Held in hammock-like holders inside their containers — with cut-outs on the sides for their fins — the whales made their journey in a C-130 cargo aircraft operated by Lynden Air Cargo with a team of aquarium staff members that included veterinarians and zoologists. They were met at the airport by local police, state police and agents from Customs and Border Control.

Accompanied by a police escort, three flatbed trucks with the large blue cargo containers fastened on the back, each carrying a beluga, made their way from the airport to the aquarium about 9 p.m. to deliver the first three whales. A few dozen employees and volunteers from Mystic Aquarium, clad in bright blue hardhats, stood under a tall crane and applauded as the trucks rolled into the parking lot. When all three vehicles had parked, the employees and volunteers quickly rushed over to start the process of getting the whales safely into their new habitat.

One by one, the whales were lifted out of their cargo containers by a crane, their fins and flukes flapping as water dripped down onto the pavement. They were gently placed onto a rolling cart, which was pushed speedily across the parking lot and into the Arctic Coast habitat, where another crane waited to place the whales into the pool.

The Arctic Coast habitat is a 750,000 gallon pool — large enough to fill Gillette Stadium — broken up into three separate sections. The whales were first released into the medical area, then allowed to swim into the holding area where the trio swam in circles together, cresting the surface and spouting water from their blow holes.

The whales, who are not yet fully grown, will live at the aquarium for at least five years. They will be a part of studies that will help scientists better understand why belugas — especially those living in Cook Inlet off the coast of Alaska — are endangered.

Tuttle said one of the things they’ll be studying is how whales respond to sound. Due to climate change, she said, ships are traveling through Arctic channels that were previously blocked by ice. It’s unclear now how whales that live in these waters will be impacted by the sounds those ships make. The belugas in Mystic will be safely tested to see how they respond when exposed to such sounds in a controlled way that doesn’t stress or scare them.

The whales also will be trained to provide biological samples, including blood, saliva from their blow holes and feces, which will help scientists collect more data on beluga whale health in a safe, non-invasive way.

"This will allow us to study animals in the wild without handling them," Tuttle said. "This is very important work that will allow us to conduct important research about these animals in the wild."

Right now, she said, blood tests are the “gold standard” for determining if an animal is healthy in the wild, but it isn’t always easy to obtain a sample from a wild animal.

The studies were built off framework released by National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, which published a list of things it would be helpful to know about beluga whales. The team at the aquarium took parts of that list and developed plans to collect data that would help NOAA in its efforts.

“It feels really exciting to be able to continue research that not only expands the body of scientific knowledge we have but also will help us protect endangered populations of these animals,” Tuttle said.

Animal rights groups in opposition

Several animal rights organizations that petitioned Canada's Department of Fisheries and Oceans to reconsider issuing the export permit request. The groups say the transport violated the intent of a 2019 Canadian law meant to phase out the captivity of whales by banning their breeding.

The organization Last Chance for Animals asked the Canadian government to deny the permit, saying the transfer would violate the law in addition to endangering the animals. They also said that the lengthy transfer would be stressful and would result in the animals breaking social bonds with other belugas at Marineland.

The organization issued a statement Friday condemning the transfer.

“The (Prime Minister Justin) Trudeau government promised to protect the whales under the Ending the Captivity of Whales and Dolphins Act, and now they are betraying the whales and exporting their commitment. What they are ending is their commitment toward protecting these whales,” LCA's Canadian attorney Miranda Desa said.

According to Daniel Pesquera from the aquarium's Boston-based public relations firm, Regan Communications, moving the animals was in the best interest of the five whales and their species.

“The import permit is partly to get them into a situation where they’ll be in a better habitat with more individualized care,” he said. “And also to get them into a habitat that’s especially designed for research on beluga whales that will help larger populations of whales in the wild.”

The whales were monitored before, during and after the transport by teams of specialists who were tracking not only their physical condition, but their emotional well-being, aquarium President and CEO Stephen Coan said. The teams on the plane monitored their breathing, heart rates and hormones, he said, adding that the animals’ stress and well-being is always a concern.

“If we weren’t concerned about that, we’d be irresponsible,” he said.

After the first flight landed, Tuttle said Jetta, Havana and Kharabali “were doing really well” and arrived happy and healthy.

She noted Friday’s transport was an exciting, invigorating culmination of years of work.

She also stressed that all five of the whales were born and raised in captivity and that because of that, releasing them into the wild was not an option. They never learned to survive in the wild or hunt for food and would likely die if set free in the ocean.

Mystic Aquarium, Tuttle and Cohen said, does not condone the capture of wild animals and had no plans to breed more belugas to be born in captivity.

One of the conditions of the permit being granted was that procreation among the whales must be prohibited. Coan said the aquarium has developed a complex plan to prevent the whales from breeding, including tracking the female whales’ ovulation cycles and separating them from the males during those times.

Coan said that Mystic Aquarium doesn't have plans to rehome any more of the belugas currently living at Marineland, but plans to continue communication and offer support to the theme park as it moves forward with what is best for all the whales in its care.

The five new whales in Mystic will be introduced to their new roommates — the aquarium’s three resident belugas — at their own pace. The animals will see one another through plexiglass barriers at first as the new whales acclimate to their surroundings. They also will be able to communicate while they remain separated. Then, they’ll slowly be introduced into living in the same waters.

It’s not yet clear when aquarium visitors will be able to see the new whales.

“The answer is that the animals are going to tell us when they’re ready (to be in the same pool),” Tuttle said. “Sometimes they get comfortable much more quickly than we think, other times it takes a little longer. But our priority is what is best for the animals, we want to make sure they’re happy in their new home at Mystic Aquarium.”

#news #captivity #cetacean #whale #beluga #transfer #mystic aquarium #marineland canada

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yikesimonfire · 3 years

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Scavenger Hunt (Part Two) || Solo

Timing: September 2014, immediately following the events of part one. Location: Outskirts of Dark Score Lake Summary: Alfie is once again in the woods and is getting tired of his own shit. This time he discovers something horrifying. Content: memory loss of the phoenix variety

Why did it have to be Dark Score Lake? Out of all the places in White Crest his previous-self could have brought him to, why did these godforsaken coordinates bring him here?! The lake itself was a good distance away from the ramshackle little cabin in the woods before him, but the idea of it being nearby didn’t sit well with him.

As if the location wasn’t enough to put Alfie on edge, the condition of the house was just as worrisome. The area around it was overgrown; a large fallen branch leaned precariously against the awning of a porch which had seen far better days. Assuming that the coordinates were correct, the place must have been abandoned for nearly two decades now — when Alfie last died.

Actively fighting against his better judgement, Alfie reluctantly walked around the perimeter of the shack, peering carefully into each window with his hands cupped like binoculars. Much to his dismay, not all of the windows granted him viewing privileges; two of which seemed to be boarded up from the other side. From what he could see, however, the interior was equally as shabby.

��Gee, I sure can’t wait to breathe in all this asbestos,” Alfie scoffed. He pushed himself away from the last window and meandered back to the front steps.

Reaching into his pocket, Alfie fished the key he found in the lockbox earlier that day, and slowly made his way to the front door. The porch groaned underneath his weight; a testament to how long the place had been derelict.

“If this works…” he grumbled under his breath, gliding the key into the deadbolt.

A smooth turn. A faint click.

Alfie hesitantly twisted the doorknob and, as luck would have it, the door creaked open to reveal a dismal living room. Damn it. He was banking on it to be a fluke.

There was no turning back now.

His hand fumbled against the wall by the door, barely half-way through the threshold, when his hand snagged against a light switch. It was a shot in the dark (literally), but by some miracle, the electricity hummed. A single light dimly sputtered to life. Under its illumination, Alfie could make out a single sofa; slightly askew and draped in plastic. The room was devoid of any other furniture. He couldn’t help but wonder what it said about the person that used to live here. Whoever he was in his last life, he must have been incredibly lonely.

He also wondered if he’d just inherited an exorbitant electricity bill, considering it was still up and running after all this time. That, he easily decided, would be a problem for future Alfie.

Curiously, Alfie continued deeper into the house after allowing the front door to click behind him. It wasn’t much. A short hallway carved into the back wall of the living room. To the right, it opened up to a modest kitchen. Directly across from there was a door, caddy-cornered with another at the end of the hall. The latter, he discovered, led to the shack’s only bathroom.

Deductive reasoning told him that the door to his left must have been the bedroom. Frankly, he half expected to open the door to a squatter — or perhaps a family of raccoons. Neither rang true. There were, however, thick pieces of cardboard haphazardly taped against the room’s windows, shrouding it in darkness.

“Blackout curtains would have been my first choice,” Alfie remarked, almost hoping to incite rage in whatever existing part of him decided this was a solid solution.

As he flipped the light switch, the rest of the room came into view. Once again, it was nothing spectacular. A full-size mattress. A chest of drawers. A single nightstand decorated with an old pack of Pall Mall 100’s.

Wait, what? Alfie did a double take when he noticed the pack of cigarettes.

“You’ve got to be shitting me!” He ran his hand down the length of his face and let out an exasperated sigh. First it was Dark Score Lake, and now this? Alfie was very quickly growing tired of his own shit. In fact, he didn’t even want to know what else was in store for him here. He realized, of course, leaving now would defeat the entire purpose of his scavenger hunt.

Begrudgingly, Alfie decided to poke around the room — starting with the chest of drawers. At first glance, the uppermost drawer didn’t seem like much. A tin of hair balm. A leather-bound journal. More packs of cigarettes. A flat cap. And it wouldn’t have been a proper time capsule without vintage photographs strewn around for good measure.

The journal was the first to be pulled. Alfie tucked it under his arm before he reached for the cap which he quickly placed atop his head — strictly for educational purposes. Finally, he grabbed a handful of photographs before making his way over to the bed.

The images ranged anywhere from the early 90s to as far back as what he could only assume were the 1930s. It wasn’t difficult to figure out who the people in the photographs were. Siblings, parents, cousins — various family members whose faces he knew all too well. One in particular showed Alfie just as he was now: a young man, smiling brightly as he hugged an older woman. A rush of emotions came over him as he examined the picture.

“Mom,” Alfie acknowledged, gently running his thumb over the image. Just like him, she had a brilliant smile plastered on her face. As his finger brushed the surface, Alfie noticed a raised pattern near the bottom. It didn’t make sense at first; how neatly tucked the series of elevated lines were in the corner. Flipping the photograph over, he realized that it was an inscription.

Alfie & Lia 1956

His brow scrunched as he ran through the lines of text.

Alfie.

Lia.

1956.

That couldn’t be right. That was only 58 years ago. He hardly looked any different than he did now.

And Lia?

Lia. Lia. Lia…

Suddenly, Alfie’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach.

He wanted to believe the year was wrong. That the entire inscription was inaccurate scribbles made by someone who didn’t pay attention to dates, or names, or anything for that matter.

But this was intentional.

Precise.

The face of the woman in the picture told Alfie everything he needed to know.

Alfie & Lia 1956

She was Leah. And Leah didn’t get dates wrong.

#solo #writing #wickedswriting #scavenger hunt part two

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trueromantic1 · 3 years

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Of Takeout and Old Movies

Summary: After attending the Widows’ and Children’s Fund benefit, Olivia and Elliot decide to end the evening relaxing with takeout and a movie. As the night goes on though, they find themselves on the precipice of something more, something that they both know has been a long time coming.

Author’s Note: This was going to be a oneshot, but then I really liked how it ended before the smut started. So I decided to stop there and split it up, figuring that way anyone who doesn’t want to read smut can just read this chapter, and anyone who wants the smut can continue to the next chapter once it’s posted.

Rating: Explicit

ff.net: here

AO3: here

“I want to thank everyone again for coming tonight to help us raise money for the Widows’ and Children’s Fund. As always, your generosity is greatly appreciated.” To raucous applause, the Commissioner walked off the stage, ending yet another fairly successful night of fundraising that necessitated sprinkling the audience with plenty of New York’s finest for the donors to meet. Their only job was to mingle and to make the donors feel comfortable enough to reach deep into their pockets.

Checking the time on her watch, Olivia was glad she’d decided to let Noah have a sleepover with Amanda and her girls. All she wanted when she got home was to change out of her fancy but uncomfortable dress and relax on the couch with some takeout. She knew it was for a good cause, but these dog and pony shows were always so draining. Taking a sip of what was left of her wine, she scanned the room, as she’d found herself doing off and on all night, lingering an extra moment when her eyes caught on a blue pair across the room. She’d known he’d also been asked to attend, so she hadn’t been surprised to see him the first time her gaze had wandered the room and caught him staring back at her, but now that the night had wound to a close, she wondered if he’d be interested in winding down with her like old times. Before she even finished making the conscious decision to go over to him, she found herself over halfway across the room toward him. She watched as his eyes widened briefly as she strode across the room, and she felt a surprising amount of satisfaction as he quickly extracted himself from the conversation going on around him to meet her part way.

“Captain,” he greeted, that stupid smirk curling his lips, “fancy meeting you here. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been purposely avoiding me all night.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you know better Detective.” She let her lips curl slightly, a smirk of her own forming. “I’m sorry Elliot. Garland found out you were also requested to attend, so he lectured me about how tonight I needed to mingle with the donors, not my former partner. I was going to argue about it with him, because I hate attending these things and I knew you’d make it more entertaining, but then I realized if I just went along with it for one night it’d be easier.” Her eyes crinkled at the corner as she smiled more fully as he reached to take her now empty glass away to place it on the tray near them, his fingers lightly grazing hers as he did.

“I know Liv. I could tell how frustrated you were all night, but I figured you had a reason for staying away, especially after you told me in May that people were telling you to keep your distance, and you turned around and ensured a veritable army in blue showed up when we had to take Wheatley to the feds without anyone being able to trace anything back to you.” He shot her that shit-eating grin, the same as he did anytime he mentioned her own version of ‘fuck you’ that she’d given the brass.

Eyes warm, mirth dancing merrily in the seemingly endless depths, Olivia made sure her face showed nothing but innocence, tinged even with a bit of confusion. “I told you before El, I didn’t do anything except show up, same as everyone else. You know I’m not tech savvy to have managed to leak that to social without leaving a trace. But enough about that; I was heading over to see if you felt like coming back to mine and relaxing with some takeout and an old movie. I don’t know about you, but these things always leave me more stressed than before attending. Noah’s at a sleepover with Rollins’ girls, and I really don’t want to go home to an empty house.”

“Chinese and a classic movie? I’m in. Ready to go?” At her nod, they turned as one, his hand a gentle pressure at the small of her back, and walked out the door.

-~-~

As the credits began to roll, Elliot glanced down at the top of his former partner’s head where it rested against his shoulder. He allowed himself a soft smile as he thought about their night.

They’d called the Chinese in on their way to her place, knowing that it would arrive shortly after they did that way. She’d gone to change, but came back still in her gorgeous dress with a pile of clothes clutched in her hands, offering it to him with a slight flush on her cheeks. He’d realized it was embarrassment a moment later after he looked at the clothes and found a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt that he recognized as his. His confusion must have shown, because she’d gone on to explain that cleaning out his desk and locker had been left to her, and she’d never had the heart to get rid of any of his stuff. After they’d each gone to change, he’d realized that her embarrassment had likely been due more to the fact that she’d clearly been wearing them in the intervening years than to the fact that she��d kept all his belongings. Their food had arrived not long after they’d both changed, and they’d sat down to eat and watch their movie. After she’d finished eating, he’d been pleasantly surprised to find her leaning her head against his shoulder as they watched the movie, the weight getting slightly heavier as she eventually dozed off.

Coming back to the present, he gently brushed her hair from in front of her eyes, trailing his fingers down from behind her ear to her shoulder where he gently shook her. “Liv. Time to wake up. The movie’s done.” Her unintelligent mumble made him smile. “Olivia. Come on, it’s time for Captain’s to head to bed.

“Mmm, El. What’s wrong?” She blinked, bleary eyes slowly focusing on him.

“There we go.” His smile spread. “Nothing’s wrong. The movie just ended, and I figured you didn’t want to sleep out here all night.”

“Hmm…Well, it wouldn’t be the first time. But I have to say, it was a lot comfier this time.” The impish smile she shot him as she slowly sat up sent heat through his veins. “Thanks for coming over El. I had a good time.” They both stood, gathering their dishes and tidying the living room.

Gathering his clothes from earlier in the night, he headed toward the door and his shoes beside it. “I guess I’ll see you later. I had a good time tonight too Liv.” He bent down to give her a hug, something they’d both become more used to doing in the several months since they’d talked at Fin’s non-wedding. As he started to pull back, he turned his head slightly to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, something that had become a more recent, but not unwelcome change. He froze for a moment though as his lips met skin that was softer than expected, realizing she must have turned her head with the same idea, causing their lips to meet instead. As he slowly pulled back, he searched her face for any idea of her feelings, worried that their accidental lip lock would upset her.

As Elliot slowly pulled back, she could see him worriedly searching her face. She knew he was likely worried she would panic, but all she felt was surprise. ‘Well,’ she thought as she placed her fingers gently against her lips, feeling warmth spreading from that initial touch, ‘maybe not just surprise.’

“Liv, I’m sorry. I meant to just kiss your cheek. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

She placed the hand that had been against her lips on the back of his neck, the other against his cheek. “El, it’s okay. You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I liked it. And I think we both know we’ve been heading this way for awhile. But maybe we should do it again, make sure it wasn’t a fluke.” She leaned forward, rising onto her toes and using her hand on the back of his neck to pull him toward her. She saw the worry on his face melt into surprise just as her lips touched his, her eyes slipping closed as she turned her head slightly to the side for a better angle. She worried for a moment as he remained unresponsive, but then she felt his mouth open and his tongue running against the seam of her lips, and she relaxed as she granted entrance.

Elliot’s eyes slipped shut as he deepened the kiss, one arm slipping around her waist and the other gently cupping the back of her head under her hair. As he felt her tongue slide into his mouth, tangling with his own tongue, he let out a moan and pulled her closer. He lost track of time as they lazily kissed, tongues tangling, lips sliding, hands gripping and roaming slightly as the room grew warm. Knowing they needed to decide where this was going before they got carried away, he slowly pulled back, another groan escaping as her teeth caught his bottom lip and pulled it slightly as she lowered herself flat to the ground.

“That was…That was amazing Liv. Even better than I’d imagined. And in the last few months, I have to say, I’ve imagined a lot. But we don’t have to do anything more than this. Whatever you want.” He watched her search his face. He wasn’t sure what she found, but whatever it was, she seemed to come to a decision.

“You’re right, it was amazing. Better than I imagined too. I know you’d never push me into anything El. But you don’t have to worry about that. I think if we’re honest with ourselves, we’ve been heading here for a long time. And I’m ready for more.” The hand that had still been resting on the back of his neck slid slowly across his shoulder and down his arm, until her fingers slipped between his. With their fingers entwined, she turned and started toward the bedroom, her arm stretching a bit as she pulled him behind her. “Stay El. I want you to stay, and I’m ready for whatever happens tonight.”

#olivia x elliot #law and order fanfiction #olivia x elliot fanfiction #law and order: svu #law and order: oc #fanfiction

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alcalavicci · 3 years

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1988 interview with Dean. This is a really good one and helps bring more of his life into perspective. Note: the newspaper originally censored his swearing, but I’ve put it back.

Guthman, Edward. "Dean Stockwell: Third Time's a Charm." The San Francisco Examiner (San Francisco, California), August 14, 1988.

“Six years ago, Dean Stockwell's acting career had turned to dust. Reduced to playing parts in unreleasable, made-in-Mexico movies that now make him cringe, Stockwell decided to chuck it all and get out of Hollywood.

“Along with his second wife, Joy, Stockwell moved to Santa Fe, settled down under the wide New Mexico sky and applied for a real estate license. He even placed an ad in Daily Variety to announce his exile: 'Dean Stockwell will help you with all your real estate needs in the new center of creative energy.'

“Stockwell never sold a house; he didn't need to. Instead, almost as soon as he'd relocated, things started happening to the former 1940s child star. It began with a small part in David Lynch's 'Dune,' and escalated with an important supporting role in Wim Wenders' highly regarded 'Paris, Texas.'

“Moving back to California to cash in on his fortune, Stockwell acted in 'Beverly Hills Cop II,' 'Gardens of Stone,' and 'To Live and Die in L.A.' He also played a cameo role, as Howard Hughes, in the newly released 'Tucker: The Man and His Dream.' And in 'Blue Velvet,' David Lynch's American nightmare, he delivered a chilling cameo as Ben, a waxlike, sexually ambiguous drug dealer.

“And now, at 52, Stockwell says he's found 'the favorite role I've had, by far.'

“The picture is 'Married to the Mob,' a dark, romantic comedy by Jonathan Demme ('Melvin and Howard,' 'Stop Making Sense') and Stockwell plays Mafia don Tony 'the Tiger' Russo. Wearing an Al Capone fedora and full-length vicuna coat, Tony is a rich, sardonic, larger-than-life character -- the kind Stockwell has never had a chance to play until now.

“Opening Friday at the Galaxy and UA the Movies, 'Married to the Mob' has been touted as Demme's first shot at a genuine box-office winner. Set in Long Island, New Jersey and Florida, it stars Michelle Pfeiffer as Angela DeMarco, a young Mafia wife who tries to start a new life when her husband, Frankie 'the Cucumber' DeMarco, is pumped full of lead during a hot-tub tryst at the Fantasia Motel.

“When Stockwell's character isn't ordering hits, drug deals and the dumping of toxic waste, he's lusting assiduously after the gorgeous widow. Meanwhile, bumbling FBI agent Mike Downey (played by Matthew Modine) is jumping through hoops trying to shadow Angela and 'catch Tony with his pants down.' Instead, he falls in love with Angela.

“During a recent luncheon interview, not far from his central California home, Stockwell spoke about the film, about his new happiness as the father of two children and about the bizarre trajectory of his long career. Dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and slacks, wearing a Panama hat and drawing first on a cigaret, later on a cigar, Stockwell emanates prosperity and calm.

“'I don't know why I was unemployed so long,' he says, reflecting on a fallow period that started in the '60s and lasted the better part of two decades. 'The only thing I can figure out in my own mind is that, for some reason or another, I was being made to wait until a certain time in my life when my talent would reach its full maturity and fruition.'

“Ironically, he says, he felt just as equipped 10 years ago to do the work he's doing now -- 'only I couldn't get fucking arrested.'

“Today, Stockwell sees harmony in the fact that his new success coincides with the arrival of two children. His son, Austin, will be 5 in November, and his daughter, Sophia, turns 3 this month. Inordinately proud and protective, he refuses to allow his children to be photographed, and also requests that the town in which he and his family reside not be named. (There were no children from his first marriage, to Millie Perkins, which lasted from 1960 to 1962.)

“'I want to make a lot of money and I want to put it away for my children,' he says. To that end, Stockwell has been snapping up job offers. 'A lot of people ask me, "How have you been able to choose these wonderful things you're doing? Have you been very selective?" And I have to tell them, "I haven't been choosing what I'm doing." Things have been coming and I've been accepting virtually anything that's come.'

“Stockwell's ambition is so great that, for the first time in his life, he actively pursues aspects of his career that he once shunned- interviews, for example.

“'My entire motivation in life is my family,' he says. 'I don't need to get an award. I don't need recognition. I've had that already. What I need is to provide. The best way I can provide is to be successful, and the best way I can be successful is to take advantage of all the things at my disposal to achieve that, one of which certainly is press.'

“Take a look at the young Stockwell, specifically the version that emerges from old magazine and newspaper interviews, and you meet another person altogether.

“Robbed of a normal childhood, Stockwell had made 22 films by the time he was 15 -- including 'The Boy with Green Hair,' 'Kim,' 'Anchors Aweigh,' and the Oscar-winning 'Gentleman's Agreement.' Working nonstop, he had a privileged life that millions of children probably envied, but he loathed it nonetheless.

“The son of show-business parents -- his father, Harry Stockwell, was the voice of the Prince in 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs,' and his mother, Betty Veronica, was a former stage dancer -- Stockwell made his professional debut at 7. It all happened by a fluke: when Stockwell accompanied his older brother, Guy, on a Broadway audition, the casting director took a liking to both boys, and cast each one. The play, aptly enough, was called 'Innocent Voyage,' and it led to an MGM contract for curly-haired Dean.

“From the beginning, the pressure on young Stockwell was intense. His parents had divorced when he was 6, and when his father defaulted on child-support payments, Dean reluctantly became the family provider. Over a six-year period, he averaged three to four films per year.

“At home, he says, 'There was a lot of friction... I was getting all the attention, but I hated it. [Guy] couldn't appreciate that, because he wasn't getting the attention. He had all these friends, his peer group, that he took for granted. I had none and I resented him for being able to live that way. I was fucking lonely.'

“When he was 13, chained to a seven-year contract, Stockwell was described by one magazine as 'a young rebel who despises acting and resents every moment it takes from his fleeting boyhood.' Many years later, Stockwell told columnist Hedda Hopper, 'Child actors exist in a sort of limbo between childhood and maturity and belong to neither. Adults take them too seriously and other children are either awed or hostile. A child actor can find friends in neither group.'

“Finally, Stockwell fled Hollywood when he was 16. He cut off his curly locks, started using his real name, Robert Stockwell, and for the next five years roamed the country, working menial jobs and disavowing his true identity. 'People that might have known me from seeing my films knew me as a young child,' he remembers. 'Now I was 17 and I wasn't that recognizable.'

“Around the time of his 21st birthday, Stockwell was pushing papers as mail boy to a Manhattan plumbing firm. 'Of all the jobs that I'd had in those intervening years,' he remembers. 'I think I hated that worse than anything. I came to the realization I had no training at anything. My primary education was very skimpy, very poor, and happened under the worst type of conditions. I was literally at the mercy of the world.'

“Most of Stockwell's childhood earnings were squandered by crooked accountants, he says, and he knew that the tiny sum being held in a trust wouldn't last forever. 'So I thought, "What am I gonna do? Well, let's go back and attack this [acting career] again, and see if I can do it a little more on my terms."'

“What followed for Stockwell was a brief but impressive 'second career.' He starred in the 1959 film 'Compulsion,' based on the Leopold-Loeb case of the '20s, and won a joint acting award with Orson Welles and Bradford Dillman at the Cannes Film Festival. He played the lead in the 1960 film of D. H. Lawrence's 'Sons and Lovers,' and in 1962 scored the plum role of Edmund Tyrone in Sidney Lumet's film version of 'Long Day's Journey Into Night,' holding his own alongside Katharine Hepburn, Ralph Richardson and Jason Robards.

“Stockwell was winning the best parts, but found his attention drifting elsewhere. What was happening, he says, were the first signs of the '60s youth revolution. 'It captured my imagination as much as anybody's. And it represented to me -- I can see this in retrospect -- something in childhood that I had missed: the freedom and loving being alive, without responsibilities and work and having to report to the studio every day, and deal with fans and interviews and shit that I hated when I was a kid.'

“So Stockwell called his agent, said, 'I'm not workin',' and dropped out once again. When he tried to come back three years later, though, 'I found it very difficult, 'cause I'd been out-of-sight, out-of-mind.' What followed was a long period of marginal employment: He found some TV work, took parts in low-budget trash ('The Dunwich Horror') and occasional oddities (Dennis Hopper's 'The Last Movie') and co-directed a film with musician Neil Young ('Human Highway') but often just didn't work at all. At one point, he went 18 months without a job.

“Today, along with his buddy Hopper, Stockwell is enjoying a major career renaissance. And with his starring role in 'Married to the Mob,' he says, he's never felt more confident.

“'I knew before I started the film that this character was going to work in spades,' he says, adding that Demme, as director, deserves credit for taking a risk with such offbeat casting. Instead of picking Peter Falk, Vincent Gardenia or another ethnically identified actor to play the Mafia don, he went with Stockwell (who is actually half-Italian on his mother's side).

“Demme's inspiration occurred on a flight from Los Angeles to New York, when he opened a copy of the Hollywood Reporter. Stockwell had just changed agents, and in order to announce the fact, had taken out a full-page ad. Demme saw the picture, and instantly recognized his Tony.

“Weirdly enough, Stockwell made another film immediately prior to 'Married to the Mob': a Canadian feature called 'Palais Royale,' due for an October release, in which he plays a character almost identical to Tony Russo.

“'It's very curious,' he says. 'For all my years I'd never had a role like this come my way, and here it was twice. The Mafia don in New York, the Mafia don in Toronto, both of them colorful and charming and also threatening. And I just thought, "What am I gonna do? It's the same character." So I decided to do the same character in both those movies.'

“To take the coincidence 'one nauseating step further,' Stockwell says he's also got a part in the recently completed 'Backtrack,' Hopper's next film. This time he plays a corrupt mob lawyer, dropping the Italian accent for a generalized East Coast sound.

“It would be difficult to find a film actor who's busier than Stockwell at this moment. And it would be difficult to find anyone whose job history better illustrates the vicissitudes, serendipities and insecurity of a Hollywood career.

“Looking back on his misfortunes -- at the career that he was forced to accept as a child, and the humiliation he felt when he couldn't maintain it as an adult -- Stockwell says he's not bitter. 'When you reach your maturity, I think it behooves you to accept the fact that it's absolutely futile and fruitless even to speculate on changing anything in your life. All you can do is get embittered. So I accept everything that's happened as part of my life, and try to push it in a positive direction from the moment right now.'”

#dean stockwell #article #i hear the kid who had plans to get a ranch again in this article :)#i've also been trying to reconcile his working in NYC when he was 21 with what parts he had around then #i think he tried acting again at 19/20 #hated it #got out went to NYC worked that job also hated it #so he went back to acting #then Compulsion helped him accept acting more

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terryballs · 3 years

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My favourite Doctor Who writers

10. Neil Gaiman

Neil Gaiman is one of the most talented people to ever write for Doctor Who. Of course, talent alone is not enough - Douglas Adams, Alan Moore, and Naomi Alderman all miss out on this list. What makes Gaiman special is his fairytale, fantasy approach to the show. He has big ideas, full of heart, and I am always delighted by them.

Why isn’t Mr Gaiman higher up on the list? Simply because he has only done four stories. One of them, “The Doctor’s Wife”, is an all-time classic, while the others are at least good. With a couple more stories, Mr Gaiman would surely be higher.

9. Paul Magrs

Coming in at #9 is one of the most important writers of non-televised Who. Paul Magrs has written nine Big Finish Main Range stories (most notably “The Peterloo Massacre”), three Companion Chronicles, and two Eighth Doctor Adventures, including the exceptional “The Zygon Who Fell To Earth”, as well as a huge number of spin-off adventures.

It’s in print where Magrs really flourishes, though. It’s quite hard to get across just how influential Paul Magrs has been. Firstly, his three books in the Eighth Doctor Adventures range - The Scarlet Empress, The Blue Angel, and Mad Dogs and Englishmen - are hugely ambitious metatextual delights. These stories introduce Iris Wildthyme and the Smudgelings to the Whoniverse, and have each inspired their own spin-off series, collectively called the “Magrsverse”. Iris’s parody of the Doctor is a rip-roaring delight whenever she appears - and as you know, she’s famous for it - and will prove a lasting legacy for Mr Magrs.

I suppose, at this junction, I should mention Lawrence Miles, who has had a similar influence, but I just don’t find to be quite as good a storyteller as Magrs.

8. Rob Shearman

You probably know Rob Shearman for “Dalek”, the first good New Who story. What if I told you that “Dalek” is Shearman’s worst DW story?

The titles of Shearman’s audio plays are enough to send shivers up the spines of those who have heard them. There’s “Jubilee”, the loose inspiration for “Dalek”, which explores the Daleks as fascist iconography. There’s “The Holy Terror”, where the Doctor and Frobisher the Penguin Shape-Shifter have a similarly horrifying experience with a religious cult. There’s “The Chimes of Midnight”, possibly the definitive Eighth Doctor story, and “Scherzo”, itself perhaps the most experimental story in Doctor Who history, and “Deadline”, in which the villain is Doctor Who itself.

Like many of the writers on this list, Shearman has an eclectic back catalogue full of obscure oddities. But few people have quite his capacity for knocking it out of the park.

7. Chris Chibnall

It’s true that Chris Chibnall’s work before becoming showrunner is inconsistent at best. “42″ is bad and “The Hungry Earth” is uninspired. “Dinosaurs on a Spaceship” is a fun romp, while “The Power of Three” is a great story that is let down by the ending which had to be re-written hastily due to unforeseen production issues. And Chibnall’s contributions to Series 11 range from “fine” (”The Woman Who Fell To Earth”) to “bad” (”The Battle of Ranskor Av Kolos”). But in “Pond Life” and “P.S.”, Chibnall shows that he knows how to write affecting character beats.

It’s in Series 12 that Chibnall really takes things up a step. His stories become sprawling and ambitious: globe-trotting thrillers crammed full of ideas. He’s still occasionally guilty of trying to throw too many ideas in, but his love for the story really shines through. There’s barely a weak moment in Series 12, and that’s largely because Chibnall himself steps up to write or co-write hit after hit after hit. It all culminates in the epic three-part finale, “The Haunting of Villa Diodati”/”Ascension of the Cybermen”/”The Timeless Children”, a hugely ambitious story that crosses space and time and pulls together disparate elements from the history of Who. It’s a million miles from “The Battle of Ranskor Av Kolos”: a fan-pleasing story that is truly epic.

6. Vinay Patel

Why is Vinay so high? Good question. Thinking about it, I can’t really justify this placement. Patel reliably produces great stories - “Demons of the Punjab” alone marks Patel out as a great, and to follow it up with “Fugitive of the Judoon” shows that it wasn’t a fluke. But Mr Patel has only got four stories to his name - the aforementioned TV stories plus “Letters from the Front” and “The Tourist” - so for similar reasons to Mr Gaiman, a high position is difficult to justify.

So instead, let’s give this position to Terrance Dicks. Mr Dicks has a bit of a reputation as more of a “jobbing” writer than someone like Chibnall or Shearman, Terrance Dicks was, first and foremost, a script editor. Yes, he co-wrote “The War Games” and was the sole writer for “Horror of Fang Rock”, but he’s best remembered for script editing the Third Doctor era (and part of the Second Doctor era), as well as producing an absolute mass of Target novelisations. But that’s not all - Mr Dicks has written original novels (VNAs, EDAs, and PDAs alike), Quick Reads, audio stories, two stage plays, and even the Destiny of the Doctor video game.

Sure, Mr Dicks didn’t burn as bright as Mr Patel. But his contribution to the Whoniverse is unparalleled.

5. Nev Fountain

Comedy writer Nev Fountain has written several of the very best Doctor Who stories. For some reason, these stories tend to centre around Peri (Fountain is married to Nicola Bryant). “Peri and the Piscon Paradox” is the best Companion Chronicle by far, due to a combination of great acting by Bryant and Colin Baker and Fountain’s sizzling script. “The Kingmaker” is an outrageously funny historical with incredible dialogue and multiple ideas clever enough to carry a whole story.

Frankly, those two alone should be enough to convince anyone of Fountain’s brilliance. But there is so much more - “The Widow’s Assassin”, “The Curious Incident of the Doctor In the Night-time”, “The Blood on Santa’s Claw”, “Omega“... if you like Doctor Who, make yourself familiar with Nev Fountain.

4. Robert Holmes

More than anyone else, Robert Holmes is responsible for the esteem which the Fourth Doctor is held in.

Holmes first wrote for the show all the way back in Series 6, with “The Krotons”. He wrote the very first Third Doctor story, “Spearhead From Space”, in which he also introduced the Autons. They reappeared a year later in “Terror of the Autons”, which introduced Jo Grant and the Master. In “The Time Warrior”, Holmes introduced the Sontarans, a pastiche of imperialism.

It was in the Fourth Doctor era that Mr Holmes really made his mark. He took over from Mr Dicks as script editor. In his own right, he wrote “The Deadly Assassin” and “Talons of Weng-Chiang”, but he also turned “The Ark In Space”, “Pyramids of Mars”, and “The Brain of Morbius” into usable stories, even appearing in “The Brain of Morbius” as the Doctor.

After stepping back from script editing, Holmes returned as a hack to write stories like “The Caves of Androzani” (probably the most popular story in Classic Who) and “The Two Doctors”, before dying shortly after his 60th birthday.

3. Jamie Mathieson

Putting Mr Mathieson above Mr Holmes really shows my bias towards New Who, but honestly, I’d rather re-watch “Mummy on the Orient Express”, “Flatline”, or “Oxygen” than any of Holmes’ stories. Mathieson is very inventive and extremely good at maintaining pace and tension. I’m sure we’ll get more stories from him in the future, but the ones we have so far should be used as inspiration by anyone wanting to writing exciting Who.

2. John Dorney

It is hard to exaggerate Mr Dorney’s contributions to audio Who. He may lack the external fanbase of Mr Gaiman, the influence of Mr Magrs, or the legendary status of Messrs Dicks, Chibnall, and Holmes, but make no mistake, Dorney is exceptional. In almost every range he tries his hand at - Lost Stories, Novel Adaptations, Third Doctor Adventures, Fourth Doctor Adventures, Fifth Doctor Adventures, Dark Eyes, Doom Coalition, Ravenous, Time War, Companion Chronicles, Short Trips, Jago and Litefoot, Missy, UNIT, Diary of River Song... Dorney reliably writes the best story in the set.

In particular, Dorney’s stories are notable for the way they focus on character drama. Look at stories like “A Life In A Day” or “Absent Friends” for particular examples of stories that use sci-fi concepts to draw emotion out of characters, particularly the stoic Liv Chenka. Other highlights of Dorney’s include “The Red Lady” and the “Better Watch Out”/”Fairytale of Salzburg” two-parter.

1. Steven Moffat

What more is there to say? Moffat is truly exceptional, reliably writing the best stories in TV Who for several consecutive years. The classics are too numerous to list, but the stand outs amongst the stand outs are “Blink” and “Heaven Sent”/”Hell Bent”.

Some of Moffat’s best work comes away from TV. The minisodes “The Inforarium” and “Night of the Doctor”, the novelisation of “Day of the Doctor”, the short stories “Continuity Errors” and “the Corner of the Eye”, and lockdown stories like “Terror of the Umpty Ums” are Moffat deep cuts which deserve to be held in the same regard as his great TV stories.

Moffat’s imagination lead to him creating multiple iconic monsters - foremost amongst them, the Weeping Angels and the Silence. Moffat emphasised the use of time travel within the stories themselves; other themes in his work include memory, perception, paradoxes, identity, sexuality, and responsibility. He is, without a doubt, the greatest Doctor Who writer, and I am so lucky to have lived through the period where he was active.

#Doctor Who #top ten #Steven Moffat

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snippychicke · 4 years

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Aftermath--Five

We’ve got nothing but fluff here, folks. maybe a smidge of plot, but just...fluff. Enjoy.

Rating: Everyone-ish

Warning: slight violence; use of racist words. some hints of angst

First | Previous

Living with Otto had taught Lorelei not to be surprised when she came home to something unusual. But seeing him up on the roof tossing tiles down as he was reshingling the damn roof proved that he still was able to stun her. Granted, it was in desperate need of repair but….

Why?

How?

Why?!

"Lorelei!" Her neighbor Nichole hissed, balancing her baby on her hip. Lorelei slowly stepped over to the white picket fence, her eyes never leaving Otto. (Safety reasons. Not because the man was shirtless and glistening in the evening light, her mind recalling that near kiss from the night before.)

"Where in heaven did you find him?" Nicole whispered as if Otto could hear them from on top of the roof. "I mean, my Joseph is a good man and all, but I don't think I could ever convince him to help out like that."

"He kinda...just showed up?" She said, unsure of how much Raymond had told his cousin. "It's complicated."

There was a glint in her eye as Nichole smiled slyly. "Shirtless in December, I bet he's a real furnace in bed."

Lorelei turned beet red at the implication. "W-what? No! It's not like that!"

Nichole gave her an incredulous look. "Girl, why not? I know you're trying out for sainthood like that cousin of mine, but even saints sin once in a while."

Lorelei covered her face with a groan, trying desperately not to allow her mind to wander down that path. She couldn't even claim he was her patient anymore with the way everything was healing. And yeah, probably to any outsider it probably would look rather incriminating.

And last night...she hadn't been adverse to him sitting next to her as she shook herself out of a nightmare. Or how he comforted her with his strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. And he was a furnace. His warmth had done more than just chase away the cold. It had drawn her in, helping her to relax into him while also stirring something inside as he leaned towards her.

She could still remember catching a whiff of his soap as she waited for their lips to touch. Whatever it was, it hadn't been the ivory bar she had sitting in the shower.

"Never did think I'd see the day I'd enjoy watching a white man work," Nichole continued almost to herself as she shifted the baby to her other hip. "You think once he's done you could convince him to help me out? I'm sure I got a few things he could handle."

"Nichole!"

She laughed, jostling her baby. "Right. I'll be a good neighbor and leave you to your eye candy. Enjoy, my dear!" She winked before turning and returning to her home, leaving Lorelei still flushed with rather indecent thoughts.

She peeked up at the roof, feeling her stomach twist. She had turned down all sorts of suitors through the years. The idea of marriage had left a bad taste in her mouth. Obedient to husband, staying home, popping out kids, and doing nothing but housework. That was not the life she wanted.

Yet...she couldn't see Otto in that kind arrangement. He treated her as an equal. Otto hadn’t said one word about her working, lack of a husband and kids, or even her abysmal homemaker skills.

And there she went, allowing her thoughts to wander off. Other than last night, he never expressed any romantic or...other kind of interest in her, which was fine. Completely fine.

Maybe she wished he'd drop a hint or two, but he respected her, so she needed to do the same. If he wasn't really interested in her, and last night was just a fluke, then that was fine.

Even if it made her chest ache, it was fine.

Which probably meant she needed to stop watching his muscles flex beneath his pale skin as he worked, hair askew from wind and sweat. But….

They were really good muscles. She hadn't seen that kind of definition outside of her medical textbooks. She'd have no trouble naming the muscles of his back and arm, fingertips skimming over the muscle groups. She could probably do the same with his chest and abs….

Otto paused, shifting to look down at her. "Having fun up there?" She squeaked, hoping he hadn't realized what she was doing. He shrugged, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. "Good!” she chirped again with a bit of oddness to her voice. “Well, I'll, um, I'll go start supper then! Be careful up there!"

--+--

Otto watched, a faint smile on his face as Lorelei disappeared from view. He had caught her staring, and even with one eye it was easy to tell the blush on her face. It made him feel rather proud as he returned to his work, trying not to reflect exactly why her attention brought him satisfaction.

He pulled a nail from between his teeth but paused at a far too familiar flash of blue light from below. His hand grasped the hammer out habit as he looked over the edge once again. Not the navy blue suit of a commission assassin, but a woman dressed in the light blue of an office worker. (He wasn't disappointed by the lack of white hair. It didn't rip open the barely scabbed-over wounds on his heart. It was fine. He was fine.)

The woman blocked out the sun with her hand as she looked up. "Agent Otto?"

Otto turned back and pounded the nail instead, ignoring the woman even as she called his name for a second and third time.

He wasn't an agent. Not any more. That part of his life was over (just as Oscar's life was over, and how Axel had left him behind, knowingly or not.)

There was a faint grumble before the ladder shook slightly. He closed his eye in defeat briefly before resuming his work. Maybe he could at least get done with this row as she struggled with the rickety thing.

"Agent Otto!" She huffed as she finally reached the top nearly a full minute later. "My name is…."

"Don't care," he interrupted. He could see her purse her lips slightly in annoyance.

"...The Commission recognizes the hardship you have gone through," she continued after a moment, making him miss his mark, the nail bent instead driven into the rafter below, causing him to snarl as he pulled it out. "And the current Director was hesitant to ask for help, however right now we are in desperate straits. Our current field agents are stretched thin, and we need every skilled individual we can acquire."

"No."

"No?" she spluttered. "You and your brothers have halted several catastrophic anomalies. You know exactly what we are facing without agents to…"

"No," he snarled, pointing his hammer towards her, making her flinch slightly, gripping the ladder tight. "Leave."

"Ag-"

"Excuse me," Lorelei's voice called up from below, making them both of them freeze. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

The woman forced a smile as she looked down. "I just had a question for the gentleman here."

"Yeah? Well, I'm pretty sure I heard him say no," Lorelei shot back up, her eyes narrowed. "So why don't you go on and skedaddle and find someone else to help you."

The woman pressed her lips together, annoyance on her face as she looked back towards Otto. He just tilted his head, as if to say 'go on.'

"Alright. I'm leaving." the woman carefully made her way down the ladder, fully aware of Lorelei's glare while Otto resumed his work.

There were strict policies in place for dealing with civilians. While the field agents were given leeway, she wasn't. She could only give the glaring woman a nod before stalking off.

Lorelei kept an eye on the woman before she disappeared around the block corner. Once she was out of view, Lorelei's shoulder relaxed as she sighed.

It wasn't long and Otto descended as well, and the frown on her face shifted to a smile as she turned to face him. Then remembered/realized he was still shirtless and...

Yes. Those were the pectoral majoris, and those were rectus abdominis, and the external oblique. Her fingers twitched and Lorelei forced her gaze up to his face, saw the smirk on his face and quickly looked up at the clouds drifting by on the breeze. "So. Anyways. Um. What was that all about?"

A dark look flitted across his face as he turned to pick up his discarded shirt and pulled it on. As he remained silent, she glanced back and noticed his scowl. "...or if you don't want to say, that's okay too."

He looked down at her, studying her intently. She offered a hand, unsure what else to do, but wanting to do something.

Otto ignored her outstretched hand and closed the distance between them with a few steps before wrapping his arms around her. There was no way she could fight against him even if she wanted to, which she certainly did not. She clutched on to him as he pulled her to his chest, uncaring of the sweat and smell as her fingers dug into his back.

"...you're not leaving, are you?" She asked, her quiet voice muffled against his chest.

"No," he swore, and it sounded like a swear the way he said it as he pulled her tighter, pressing his lips to her hair.

"Good. I--" she paused, a smile flitting briefly across her face as she pressed her cheek against his chest. "The cats would miss you."

There was still a faint flush to her cheeks as Otto pulled back, giving her a skeptical look. The mischievous smile on Lorelei's face faded as he placed his forefinger beneath her chin, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. "Just the cats?"

She was struck silent, meeting his grey-blue eye and unable to look away. Not as his thumb rubbed across her lip slowly, his own gaze concentrated on the pink hue.

There was a sharp clatter and a cacophony of feline hisses, shocking both out of the moment. "Shit! The chicken!"

--+--

The cats had made short work of the chicken Lorelei had been preparing. "...You want to go out to eat?" She asked after they got the last piece from Hugo, who had dragged his trophy underneath Otto's bed and hung on as Otto dragged it out and lifted both chicken leg and cat in the air.

He merely shrugged, waiting to see how long the orange tabby could hold on while dangling in the air. Hugo snarled, his green eyes glaring at Otto.

"...There's a diner a few streets over that has some decent food. A good mom and pop joint that isn't fancy or anything." Lorelei snickered at the sight of the two glaring at each other. "Oh for goodness sake you two. Hugo, it'll be better cooked. I promise once it's deboned, you can have your fair share." She wrapped her arms around the fluffy cat, who finally let go of the chicken leg though gave a plaintive yowl as he adjusted himself in her arms.

"Spoiled," Otto chided playfully as he shook the chicken leg towards the cat.

"Oh, I spoil them, Mr. Cook enough eggs every morning to feed everyone?" Lorelei laughed as she allowed the cat to jump down on the floor. "I don't even want to think about how much you spend on eggs. Which, by the way, I need to pay you for my fair share of groceries. You keep sneaking off when I'm at work."

"Hmm, no," he decided as he turned to leave, making her frown.

"What? No?" She chased after him as he descended the stairs. "Otto!"

"No."

"I eat that food too," she pushed. "So I should pay for half of it."

"Nej."

"Nej?" She paused for a moment, "Wait, do you mean no? Ugh, you are incorrigible!"

“Jag vet inte vad det betyder."

"I don't know what that means!"

Otto laughed, pausing suddenly, making Lorelei stumble into him. There was a playful pout on her face as she tried not to smile. "I mean it, though. Let me pay you back. Plus the whole roof thing," she said, gesturing overhead. "I don't even wanna know how much that cost."

He looked upwards and shrugged. "Rent."

"Rent?!" She spluttered, shocked. "I-what? No! Y-you don't owe me rent! Especially that much! Besides, if you could afford that much in rent, why are you staying with me in this hovel of a house?"

Which was the core of both her arguement and her deep-seated worry. If Otto could afford all of that, why was he staying with her?

"The cats." He teased, making her blush return.

"T-they're your cats," she argued weakly.

"Nej, our cats," he guided her to look back towards him, enjoying the blush as well as the soft expression on her face as she took in his words. His meaning. Her hand came up to tangle with his.

"Ours, huh?" Her smile returned and became playful. "Maybe you should let me help feed them then."

He rolled his eye with a smile on his face before grabbing her coat from the rack and draping it over her shoulders. "You're impossible."

"Yeah, well, you're the one that apparently wants to put up with me," she busied herself with settling into her coat before looking back at him, heartwarming as he offered his arm to her to hold on to, an indescribable expression on his face.

"I do."

--+--

The diner wasn't terribly busy, just a few couples and the lone family quietly eating as some easy-listening music played lowly in the background. Lorelei didn't miss how Otto automatically drifted to the corner booth in the back from where he could keep an eye on everyone. It left her with having her back to the rest of the diner, but knowing Otto was watching out for her settled her nerves.

Honestly, it went a lot better than she had worried about on the walk over. Just supper like every other night, except without the hassle of some of the cats trying to snitch off their plates. Quiet companionship, though occasionally, Lorelei would reach over a snag a french fry with a mischievous smile on her face.

Retaliation was when she had ordered an ice cream sundae as dessert, and he helped himself. She feigned offense, which was ruined by her laughter. The thing was big enough to share anyways.

She had to keep reminding herself this wasn't anything special or different, despite the butterflies that would occasionally flutter to life inside her chest. Just an impromptu outing with her roommate. Friend. He was definitely her friend. (Even if her heart was crying for more.)

"Well, well, well, if it ain't the half-nigger nurse," a drunken voice broke the comfortable quietness, making Lorelei freeze. Her gaze caught Otto's, who's faint expression of humor fell as he looked from her to the approaching two men. They barely gave him a second glance; however, their attention focused solely on Lorelei. "I thought we made it clear that you weren't allowed to eat with us whites anymore."

"The owner doesn't seem to have a problem with us here," she said, hands fisted in her skirt as she kept her eyes focused on the dark buttons of Otto's coat. "So maybe you shouldn't either."

"I bet Bob doesn't see how many niggers come in and out of your place at odd hours of the night," the other sneered. "Might as well put a red light on your porch, you whor--"

Lorelei bristled, a snarl on her lips as she turned. But in that short time, Otto had stood, towering over two with a dark look on his face. The whole diner had their eyes on them as Otto stared them down, his countenance even more severe with his eye’s still-healing wound.

Any sane person would have backed down. But either the two men had one too many or were lacking in common sense. "What?" The man stepped forward, trying to puff out his chest to look as imposing. "You're going defend her honor? Like she has any?"

"Otto…" Lorelei slipped from her seat, well aware of everybody's eyes on them. Her hand settled on Otto's arm, causing him to look down to her, his expression softening minutely. "Let's just go home."

"Nah, I'm going to tell this dumb bag of rocks exactly what kind of-" The man reached out for Otto's coat, which also happened to be his blind side.

Otto grabbed the man's wrist in a blur of movement, twisting it with a disturbing crack that echoed through the diner. The man fell to his knees, his scream of pain drowned but the other patrons’ cries. Lorelei winced and looked away just as Otto kicked the man square in the chest with enough force to slam him into the nearby chairs.

"You bastard!" The man's buddy yelled, barely drawing his fists before Otto turned to him the same time Lorelei grabbed a knife from the table and stepped between the two.

"You're gonna back off," she snarled. Except the man proved not to feel threatened by the short woman with a blunted knife. He grabbed a handful of her hair before she could swing, yanking painfully.

Lorelei dropped the knife with a gasp of pain, which her attacker echoed seconds later as Otto's hand wrapped itself quickly around the man's neck, his fingers digging into the man's skin.

The man quickly let go of Lorelei's hair as he tried to pry Otto's grip off with little success. It was easy to see his face paling as blood started to seep around Otto's fingernails.

"Otto, Otto!" Lorelei snapped him out of the blood lust as she tugged on his coat. His grip didn't ease in the slightest bit as he looked down to her. "Let him go."

He didn't want to, but the pleading expression on her face convinced him. He tossed the man like a ragdoll at his friend, knocking both of them into the nearby table. "Let's get out of here," she murmured as she slipped her hands around his, pulling softly.

Otto finally took note of the rest of the diner. Many of the other patrons had already fled, while one of the servers was already on the phone, their eyes wide with fear.

He didn't care much about their feelings. The fear was nothing new to him. But the worry Lorelei's face tugged at him with a new sense of guilt as she led him out the door. No one said a word to them even after Lorelei left a wad of bills to cover the food and then some.

The walk home was quiet for the first block as Lorelei's heart gradually returned to a somewhat average pace. "Are-" she started, looking up to her silent companion next to her, easily keeping pace with her quick stride with his long legs. He paused from keeping a lookout as they walked and met her gaze. "Are you okay?" She continued a bit quietly.

His sharp gaze softened somewhat. "I'm fine."

"Right! Right, silly of me to ask," she continued quickly. "I mean, you've had your eye removed without sedation. God, that was probably nothing for you."

It was actually was nothing for him, but her comment caused him to realize the nurse wasn't as used to fighting as he was. Her tanned skin was paler than usual, and he could see her shaking despite her arms crossed across her chest.

He paused, a hand settling on her shoulder to draw her out of her thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah! I'm fine," was her immediate response, though it was easy to tell she was lying by the way her gaze darted everywhere but him, her whole body tense as a bowstring. "I-I should be," she amended after a moment, running a hand through her hair gingerly. "Shit like that happens more often than I like to admit."

He touched her chin, encouraging her to meet his gaze. Maybe a few hairs were missing from her head, but she was otherwise unharmed. Rattled would be the word he would use, something that he was unused to dealing with.

His brothers had dealt with close calls and brushes with death reservedly. Even when Oscar had been killed right in front of them, neither him nor Axel had allowed it to affect them. Or at least not outwardly. Inwardly, it had felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest, leaving nothing but a howling pit in its absence.

"No more,' he stated simply, confusing Lorelei for a moment. "I'll protect you."

Lorelei’s expression shifted into a faint smile as her whole body relaxed. She hesitated for a moment before taking a step closer and wrapping her arms around him. Her head rested against his chest as his own arms settled around her waist. He couldn't resist the urge to press a kiss against her hair as he pulled her tight.

#fic: aftermath #The Umbrella Academy #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfic #otto #tua otto #tua oscar #tua axel #the swedes #the swedes otto #the swedes axel #tua the swedes #the swedes oscar #otto/OC #Jason Bryden

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charliejrogers · 3 years

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Wonder Woman 1984 (2020) - Review & Analysis

Here’s a non-controversial statement: 2017’s Wonder Woman is a legitimately great film (if you discount the last act’s boring battle). A fun, yet emotional anti-war tale with a great period aesthetic. What elevated it from greatness was its starkly bleak reveal that Ares does not start man’s wars, but he merely gives humans ideas for how to instigate them. Ultimately, it is Man who holds responsibility for our own destruction, and despite this Wonder Woman still chooses to help us poor creatures. Cool themes, cool hero, cool movie.

Wonder Woman 1984 shares the main character from its 2017 forerunner, as well as its dedication to recreating a particular period aesthetic (here the 1980s), but the brilliant writing from the first film is gone. The main themes are essentially… “be careful what you wish for” and “winners never cheat; cheaters never win.” Not the most grand and interesting follow-up to the prior film’s genuine insight into human nature.

But that’s OK. I’m really not sure why this movie is getting so much flak online. If DC’s recent prior history with filmmaking should have taught us anything, it’s that 2017’s Wonder Woman was a fluke. Remember that this is the same studio that brought us the outstanding climax to Batman vs. Superman where one grown man learns that another grown man’s mother is also named Martha. Oh, and did we all just forget that Justice League is one of the worst movies we have all collectively ever seen?

So let’s not be too hard on WW84 for not meeting the quality of 2017’s Wonder Woman. Few comic book movies can. In the more fair comparison to other movies in the DCEU, it sits below Shazam! and Aquaman, and just a smidge below Birds of Prey, but certainly above Suicide Squad, and then literally leaps and bounds over every other movie they’ve made.

Let’s start with the good. Honestly, despite my gripes about the themes of the movie not being very profound, I found the story to be interesting. The movie centers around Diana Prince (Gal Gadot in her role as an archaeologist for the Smithsonian and not as Wonder Woman) stumbling upon an ancient stone whose inscription invites people who hold the stone to make a wish. No one takes it really seriously at first, so two people make wishes without thinking they could come true. The first person is Diana herself who wishes to bring her boyfriend (whom she only knew for about a week, mind you) from the dead. As a reminder from the first film, her boyfriend Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) had died nearly 70 years prior to the start of this film in a dramatic, sacrificial, world-saving act. Apparently, Diana hasn’t moved on at all from the 1910s and still considers her short-time lover to be her forever lover. She’s not really a human and did not grow up a human, so I think we can forgive her for not moving on… but it is weird to imagine that Diana somehow works at the Smithsonian (without going to college? Or did she?) without developing any friends or interest in life. Wouldn’t she have moved on... like a little bit?

Anyways, she wants her boyfriend back, and that’s wish #1. Wish #2 comes from new character Barbara Minerva (Kristen Wiig… who I am shocked to find is 47 years old! She looks fantastic and far younger in this film). Were Barbara a man, the way she is treated by her colleagues would put them in the stereotypical role of a future school shooter. Barbara is a brilliant gemologist for the Smithsonian, but goes completely unrecognized for her brilliance. She is shy and unconfident, and subsequently people frequently forget that they have even met her. Add on to that the fact that she has to work in the same office as Wonder Woman, and her loneliness and subjective feelings of unattractiveness increase as male employees drool over Diana while they ignore and mock Barbara. Therefore, we would forgive her for having a chip on her shoulder. Yet, for all this, Wiig avoids playing her as an angry, emo goth. Barbara kinda has this air about her of “Well, this is just how life is, and there’s nothing I can do to change that.” Given the character’s lack of self-confidence and lack of social grace, it at times seemed like Wiig was just reprising her old SNL character, Penelope, the socially awkward one-upper. But that’s not fair to her character. Wiig portrays Barbara with an earnest goodness to her. She’s one of those people who when allowed to talk one-on-one proves to be more eloquent and interesting than you could have imagine. Far from being angrily envious of Diana’s confidence and beauty, she’s more sadly jealous. Naturally, then, she wishes on the stone to be more like Diana… unaware that this wish might have some unintended benefits.

But then, there’s a third key character to the film (and a third wishmaker), the main villain Maxwell Lord (Pedro Pascal). I cannot tell you if this was a good character or not… and I cannot tell you whether the imperfections of the character are more due to the film’s writing or Pascal’s performance. Lord is another loser, and like Barbara, his “loser” status is the result of being a victim of America’s prejudicial attitudes. But whereas Barbara fell victim to sexism, Lord falls victim to racism. Hispanic in origin, Lord grew up in America with an abusive father at home and racist classmates at school. Beaten down from an early age, all he wants in life is to make a name for himself, to prove he’s not a loser. In a clever twist, Lord (the person who originally ordered the wish stone to come to America before it was confiscated by the FBI and sent to the Smithsonian for analysis) does not simply use the stone to wish for riches and power… he wishes to BECOME the stone. That way, he can get nearly infinite wishes so long as he can con the people around him to wish things for him.

The scenes of Max Lord as a flawed human who just wants to not be a loser show Pascal giving a great performance as a human being at the ends of desperation. The scenes of Max Lord the supervillain are… not good. In a long string of over-the-top, eccentric, hyperconfident supervillains in countless superhero movies, Pascal’s Lord is just not interesting. In fact, he is literally a weak character. He cannot fight for himself as his body is crumbling (a side effect of wishing to become a stone). Furthermore, his initially grounded motivations to finally be respected and successful seem to be just utterly lost by the end of the film when he just wishes for world chaos… only then to turn around and declare undying love for his son. It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Failure to understand a character’s motivations casts a shadow over Barbara’s character arc as well. It is explained that the wish stone takes something in return for granting someone their wish. So as payment for bringing Steve Trevor back to life, Diana loses some of her strength. Still… this strains to fully explain why Barbara, after gaining Wonder Woman-like strength, turns into a walking humanoid cheetah (complete with bad CGI like she walked straight out of the cast of 2019’s Cats.) Like I get that she lost some of her humanity and morality in exchange for strength… but Cheetah girl seems like a little much. And though initially it is fun to see Wiig get to play Barbara as a confident and sexy woman who fights back against the patriarchy, the movie (I think) unfairly pushes her into the villain role. In my opinion, she should be treated as a tragic character, something akin to a Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight, as her villainous tendencies are not really her fault. She literally had the part of her that cares about other humans taken away from her when she naively and innocently wished to be like Diana. Instead, the movie has Diana lecture her that she shouldn’t be so evil. She literally can’t, lady! Stop being so hard on her! In any case, it seems like a failed opportunity to generate sympathy for a genuinely likable character who tragically becomes a villain not through her own accord.

That failure to create genuine emotions extends to Diana’s story as well. As soon as Steve is resurrected, you know by the movie’s end he will be dead again. There’s no other way this movie ends. Yet, the fact that Diana is so stubborn in refusing to give up Steve makes it hard to sympathize with her. She is simply being selfish, making her eventual decision to say goodbye to Steve feel more like her finally doing the right (and obvious) thing, and not some heartbreaking decision. Also the fact that seemingly Diana hasn’t even tried to move on in the last seventy years doesn’t help matters for me: it more just feels like a lazy way to write in Chris Pine’s popular character into the second movie. The move certainly weakens the idea of Diana as a strong, independent woman by making her emotionally stunted and crippled for the last 70 years. It would have been a much more satisfying (and daring) choice if Diana had moved on from Steve emotionally and had to deal with the guilt of having brought him back by accident, particularly if he didn’t want to go back to being dead. Instead... Steve knows he has to go back and Diana feels no guilt keeping him around. It’s weak character writing.

These poor choices I contrast with two of my favorite TV shows that demonstrate perfectly how former lovers who miraculously reunite eventually have to say goodbye for good: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Jane the Virgin. For risk of spoilers to those still watching Jane, I’ll stick to the Buffy example. There’s an episode of Buffy (though technically an episode of the spin-off show Angel) where Buffy and her vampire lover Angel are fresh off their recent and tumultuous break-up, but through some dark magic that neither seeks out, they are given the opportunity to live a life where Angel isn’t actually a vampire and their love can be fully expressed. Yet, in the end, Angel opts to give up his life as a human and return to being a vampire. The choice is so moving precisely because (due to circumstances I cannot begin to explain) in choosing to give up his life with Buffy, he saves her life as well. Whereas in this movie, Diana choosing to let Steve go is really just her choosing to undo her choice to essentially cheat death. Angel, however, is actively choosing to give up a life of happiness he never wished for but was just given on a silver platter, and will now live in a world where his lover will never know his selfless act and will go on hating him. It’s heartbreaking in a way Wonder Woman dreams it could be.

And not to get too Buffy-heavy… but that show also deals with the emotional consequences of being ripped out of the afterlife much better than this movie. Steve just kinda unrealistically adapts to being alive again in all of five minutes. If, perhaps, from the start he questioned why he was there and hinted to Diana that something was wrong, the emotional aspect of this story, the doomed nature, the feeling of “this is the last chance we’ll have together” could have made this a stronger movie. I wanted to find myself crying when Diana finally says bye to Steve, and I was no where close to that. Gal Gadot shares at least part of the blame. She’s a pretty wooden actress. It’s something I noticed in 2017’s Wonder Woman, but in that movie she was supposed to be a fish out of water so her stilted presence seemed appropriate. Here, where she’s supposedly become an assimilated American for 70 years… it is just bad acting.

Anyways, another aspect of this film that was lacking were the visuals. The bad CGI of Barbara as Cheetah is just scratching the surface here. The opening flashback to Diana as a girl performing in the Amazonian Olympics just… looks fake. I don’t know. The reliance on CGI over practical effects is clear and distracting. It’s only worse in the subsequent scene where Wonder Woman stops a theft from occurring in a mall. The effects are just bad. Like passable for a film in the 1990s or early 2000s. But for a 2020 blockbuster, it’s noticeably bad. And already the scene where Wonder Woman is running towards the camera with a weird green screen behind her seems to have become a meme given just how weird it looks.

And yet, for all the negatives I’ve listed, this is a decent action flick. There’s even some nice set pieces like the one in the White House. As little as I liked Max Lord as a supervillain, I found figuring out the other half of each of his various Monkey Paw wishes (i.e. the downside of each wish) to be clever. unfortunately, each of the main three characters fails to have a story line that takes full advantage of their emotional potential, or they are just poorly acted. With few exceptions, the film eschews “fun” in favor of “seriousness.” Really the only exception is, as in the first film, the chemistry between Pine and Gadot. Their chemistry makes for some of the movie’s best moments, like when Wonder Woman makes the plane they’re flying in invisible and the pair flies over fireworks on the fourth of July. But that sense of whimsy in their scenes is largely absent from the rest of the film. This is particularly true of the action sequences, especially those at the climax. The seriousness makes them rather boring. Really, I’m comparing these action scenes with the last half hour or so of Birds of Prey which really set the bar for superhero movie fight choreography. So in the end, it’s overall an OK movie. It certainly isn’t as bad as others make it out to be, but I cannot believe I’m saying this… in 2020 if you’re in the mood for a fun superhero movie, you’re better off with the Suicide Squad sequel than the Wonder Woman sequel.

**/ (Two and a half stars out of 4)

#wonder woman #ww84 #wonder woman 1984 #gal gadot #patty jenkins #chris pine #kristen wiig #pedro pascal

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