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#Chris speaks through ATOM
tranquil-ivy · 7 months
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𝔹𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕒 𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 ℝ𝕦𝕟 [ℙ𝕋𝟚.]
DI!Leon Kennedy x (Fem)Reader
Summary: You sit in the hospital and contemplate the aftermath of yours and Leons near death experience. All while waiting on him...
Words: 3.2k
Content Warning: Talks of injury, Leons in a coma, crying, this part actually made me sad..., cliffhanger (: (yes I'll make more if this does well!)
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It's been hours.
Hours since you were put in this hospital room in Miami.
Hours since, you were carried off screaming and flailing by a fellow agent.
Hours since you last saw him "alive".
You've asked different hospital staff at least 20 times for updates. Hearing the same things over and over again.
'He's in critical condition.'
'He suffered severe blood loss and a possible brain injury so comas are fairly common.'
'He'll need surgery once he's able to undergo anesthetic.'
Aside from whatever Rebecca came to share, you were completely in the dark...
And all you can do is lie in your hospital bed and wait.
The only company you have is your thoughts and the woman in the room that you've refused to speak to since she came in a few hours after they allowed you visitors.
"You can't stay mad at me forever."
That's the 6th time Jill's said that... But you're still going to talk. At least not to her.
She sighs heavily at your continued refusal to talk.
"So do your eyes not work either or are you just so pissed you don't want to even look at me?" Deeply inhaling through your nose, you look at her, crossing your arms.
"Oh wow, your ears work too? So full of surprises."
"Fuck. Off." You grumble, voice cracking from lack of use and your deteriorating emotional state.
There's a knock at the door, gaining both your attention. Jill stands up, walks over and opens it, Rebecca stepping into the room, glancing around quickly before her eyes land on you. She looks almost happy to be there, even during this mess of a situation.
"Hey, I just came to check in and share some news." Rebecca sounded chipper. Jill shuts the door, walking back over and pulling a seat up for her, a fold-up chair next to your bedside.
You sit up, excited and about to start asking millions of questions.
"Is it-" Rebecca puts her hand up, stopping you from talking. You sit back in bed, trying not to jump down her throat about anything.
"Yes." Rebecca starts as she sits down. "He's stable enough for surgery. The doctor told Chris that it looked like part of his large intestines was clipped. He'll need a hell of a lot of stitches but he'll be okay. And he's incredibly lucky it wasn't anything vital." You sigh, feeling your body relax finally after hours of being tense.
"Thank God..." Jill rubs her forehead as she starts pacing the room, finally feeling some sliver of relief.
"But..." Rebecca starts again, looking between Jill and you. "He didn't wake up before surgery... It's up to him now."
What if he doesn't wake up for a while?
What if he's stuck in the hospital for months?
What if he never wakes up?
"Hey, hey, he's gonna be okay." Jill walks over noticing your lack of response. You sniff, starting to feel the tears fighting their way out. The past few hours are the most stressful ones of your life.
Sure you've dealt with loss before. Even the loss of a coworker, but not Leon...
Leon is different. He means too much to you.
Jill pulls you into a hug as Rebecca stands to rub softly up and down your back.
"You know he's gonna pull through. He's Leon." You laugh softly into Jill's shoulder as she makes her statement, she's not wrong though.
"It would take an atomic bomb to stop that man." Rebecca adds, leaning into your other side.
"It's just... It's different this time." Jill pulls away listening to you, wiping a few of your tears away with her thumb.
"What?" She looks at Rebecca who just shrugs in response, unsure of what exactly you meant.
"Is Chris okay?" You look up at Rebecca, changing the subject because you're not quite ready to discuss what happened yet.
"He's not still woozy from the emergency transfusion is he?" You ask, looking at Rebecca. She nods.
"He's still recovering a bit. But Claire is with him in the waiting room, shoving whatever vending machine food she can find into his mouth. Like some kind of... weird... mother bird or something."
"Of course she is." Jill, chuckled, looking back at Rebecca, smiling and happy to hear some good news.
"So, what's going on with you?" Jill turns back in your direction as Rebecca asks, gesturing towards your cast.
"Leg fracture, ankle fracture and spinal fracture... I'm gonna need some physical therapy in a few weeks but I should be perfectly fine. Other than a bit of nerve damage that still needs to be accessed fully after the spinal fracture heals..." Rebecca's brows drop, frowning.
"Permanent?" Nodding slowly, you saw her face change, she looked so disappointed and guilty. "You can't go back to the D.S.O. can you? No field work at least."
"Most likely no... Where the damage is... It's gonna make my legs numb randomly. And we all know once we get a permanent injury... we're done."
"Oh God." She took your hand in hers, clutching it tight. "I'm gonna miss the hell out of working together when we did."
"It's not like she's going away forever, Rebecca. You'll still be doing desk work, right?" Jill looks optimistic for once, you stay quiet for the time being.
This could be your chance to finally get out of that cesspool of a career. Something you've thought about for years now.
"I think... I should retire." They both stare at you, mouth a gap. Out of all of you in the group, they never expected you to retire first. Especially with how much of a workaholic you were.
"That's... probably for the best." Rebecca squeezes your hand, trying to be supportive, but you can tell this choice is killing her.
"This won't hurt our friendships, right?" You look at Jill, she honestly just looks annoyed yet sad at the same time.
"Of course not."
You all know you will, in some way, hardly get to see each other, as is from everyone's busy schedule. But now you can make time for each other at least.
Hopefully.
"I think I should be getting back to Tweedledee and Tweedledum." Rebecca gives you a tight squeeze of the side looking over at Jill. "I'll be in the waiting room. If I find out anything I'll comeback."
She gives you one last rub of the back, leaving the hospital room with a quick goodbye. Once the door closes, Jill pulls the chair up next to your bed, closer, having a seat.
"Are we on speaking terms now? Or was it a truce for Rebecca's sake?"
"I'll talk." You sigh, earning a smug look from Jill.
"How is this time different?"
Of course, she asks that first. Jill's never one to beat around the bush.
What's the big deal? Just say it, she's gonna know eventually...
"I told him I love him." You say it, looking into her eyes as they blow wide.
Her jaw drops. A broken string of words came out. Unable to make a complete sentence, she shuts her mouth. Looking so lost and worried. She blinks, slumping back against the chair.
"No wonder you fought me so hard..."
Thinking back to her unlatching you from the doorway, the stairwell railing and even trying to grab a standing desk at one point. She got so annoyed with your actions when she was just trying to help.
Screaming, beating on her back weakly as she carried you all the way back to the radio room they set up where you eventually passed out due to exhaustion and woke up as the evac helicopter was landing at the hospital.
Looking back now, you feel like a child throwing a tantrum, but could you really blame yourself?
But it all made sense to her now as the guilt seeped in.
"God, if I had known-"
"Don't." She looks up at you, your eyes starting to fill with tears as you let out a broken whine, sniffling against your hospital gown collar as you wipe your eyes.
"But, I could have-"
"You did the right thing," You assert, cutting her off again. Her eyes still looking at the floor with guilt. "If he would have died on that table we both know I wouldn't have been leaving."
Jill just glances up at you, nodding and rubbing her temples.
"He said it back too."
"Oh- Oh my God." She smiles, looking almost relieved and excited. "He did? Leon Kennedy? The man known for being emotionally constipated?"
You laugh, continuing to wipe your eyes and nod with a shaky breath.
"And uhh..." You breathe out, taking a moment to gather your words. Jill leans forward, putting a hand on yours.
"Take your time."
"Thank you." You sniff again, looking back at her, the heat in your body rising as you remember the conversation again.
"He asked me if we could have had a family together. So I told him if he held on I'd give one to him. And he wanted that... With me. Me, Jill!" You smile. The tears starting to overflow again. "He wants me... I never thought he actually would."
"I know. Everyone thought one of you would die before saying something to each other." She jokes, getting you to chuckle somewhat.
"But I guess we were wrong. It was a near death."
"I don't want to lose him... I wanna give him what he wants, what we both want." Starting to cry harder, Jill gets out of the chair.
"He's gonna pull through. He has to. I'll kick his ass if he doesn't."
"What're you gonna beat up a man in a coma?" Your body jiggles as you laugh, smiling finally after what feels like an eternity.
"Maybe, maybe not."
Laying back against your pillows, you stare at the ceiling and wonder, what's going to happen in the next few days?
"I know I'm probably gonna be here for a little while," you started, lifting your head from the uncomfortable hospital pillow, "but do you think they'll let me see him?"
"Why wouldn't they?" She looks almost confused? What could stop you from seeing him?
"He's in a private room. Which means only people on his contact list can visit... His only person is our boss."
"Hun, don't worry, I'll fix it. Okay?" Your brows wrinkle looking at her.
How the hell are you gonna fix this?
"Okay..." You can't help but feel lost but you take Jill for her word when a knock comes at the door.
"Sorry to interrupt." A nurse steps in through the door. "But it's 7:45... Visiting hours are over in 15 minutes."
Jill nods to the nurse as she walks back out, closing the door.
"Listen." Jill speaks before you can say anything at all. "I'll fix it. So don't worry your pretty little head about anything, okay?"
You take a shaky breath, nodding as she leans in hugging you tightly.
"I'll try to come see you once you're back in DC. I can't promise anything but I can try." You nod again, just not feeling the need to say anything.
"I love you, remember that."
"Love you too." You wave as Jill exits the room, leaving you alone again.
Alone...
You'll be here alone. He'll be in his room alone.
Everyone's gonna go back to work tomorrow like normal, act like nothing happened whatsoever, and I'm stuck here... He's stuck here without anyone else.
He has no blood family.
We're his family...
The D.S.O. is his "family", if he can even bother to call them that...
You lay in your bed staring at the ceiling, closing your eyes, trying to let sleep consume you and your exhausted body.
....
"Miss?" Your eyes shoot open, gasping, you jump, looking around the dimly lit hospital room. The nurse from before next to your bedside jumps as you startled her as well.
I'm so out of it, I didn't even hear her come in...
"Yes?" Your voice sounds oddly normal again, minus the grogginess.
"Mr. Kennedy is out of surgery and recovering. He should be in his room again in about 10 minutes." You claw at the rail of your bed, eyes widen in surprise.
Already!?
"Is he okay?" The nurse nodded with a kind smile.
"The surgery went well. He's gonna recover just fine." The pure bliss that fills you is nothing compared to almost anything you've felt before.
"Is he awake?" The nurse's face falls with a shake of her head.
"I'm sorry, no..."
Of course not...
"Would you like me to get you a wheelchair to go see him once he's back in his room?"
They're offering...?
"Yes, yes, I would love that. Thank you."
The nurse nods, leaving your room. You look at the ceiling, smiling and feel a little bit better than you did before. Turning your head, you look at your bedside table, seeing your phone, the familiar green light of a message blinking from the black screen.
Picking it up, you turn the screen on by swiping your code through and look at the time.
12:35am. You fell asleep.
Swiping down, you see a series of texts from Jill.
'I swear this hospital is run by jackasses.' 7:57pm
'I'm talking to someone finally.' 8:13pm
'You know I hate doing it but I'm about to wave my badge around for you.' 8:42pm
'It's fixed. You're welcome <3' 9:07pm
"Jill Valentine, you're a God damn miracle worker." You squeeze your phone in excitement as you start replying.
'I owe you my life, call me later <3' 12:37am
You sit back in bed shutting your phone off and setting it back down on the table. You feel so nervous.
The 10 minutes drag by right as a nurse comes in with a wheelchair for you. Putting the railing down, she helps you out of bed and into the chair, putting your cast-covered leg up on the footrest.
Moving backwards out of the room, the bright florescent lights of the hallway blind you, a pained hiss slipping from your lips. The nurse pushing you chuckles as she wheels you to the elevator.
"Oh, I should inform you." You look up at her as she pushes the call button with a smile.
"We're gonna be moving you upstairs next to your fiance in the morning. Just thought you should know."
Fiance... Don't question Jill's methods.
Knowing what Jill did now, you just nod going along with it.
"Thank you, that is very helpful. I don't want to leave his side as much as possible..."
"Oh, understandable. You must be going through so much with him right now. I can only imagine."
You don't know half of it.
The elevator opens, you're pushed inside and the nurse pushes the floor button.
"So, how did you two meet?" The nurse asks. You look over your shoulder at her.
"Work. I was placed with him because I was experienced in our line of work. Apparently, every other person he was paired with couldn't handle him."
"And I'm guessing you could?" She chuckles, making you smile.
"Well, we've been together since November of 2013, so I'd assume yes." She laughs again.
"Who asked who out?" You froze, thinking of something quickly.
"Well, we kind of just told each other how we felt and it just happened." She nods slowly, the elevator dinging.
You're pulled back out of the elevator and start down a dim hallway. This floor looks a lot quieter and well kept.
The nurse pushes you past rooms, stopping in front of a corner room with the number 10 on it. Opening the door, she pushes you inside, seeing the curtain drawn around the bed in the room.
The nurse stops you at the bedside looking at you again.
"I'm just going to warn you. He looks like he's asleep, it's gonna be odd with everything he's hooked up to right now, but if he stays stable for a day most of it will come off."
You nod as she pulls the curtain back, revealing Leon.
Tubes... And wires. So many tubes and wires.
Your jaw drops and brows knit. His hands lay at his side and he looked like he was asleep.
You've seen what he looks like, knocked out, asleep, passed out. But this time it doesn't feel right...
Looking over him you see the bags under his eyes look lighter at least.
Feeding tube through the nose, heart monitor, IV, a ventilator and a stomach compression band across his abdomen.
He looks so vulnerable... Not at all like Leon, you know.
Taking his hand in yours, you just stare at him, letting the sight of him sink in.
At least he's alive.
"So, the ventilator should come off once the anesthetic is out of his system. It's just a precaution." The nurse comments, walking over to his bedside table, picking up a small stack of pamphlets and handing them to you.
"Thank you..." You look at them reading the titles quickly.
How to help wake up a coma patient.
My partner is in a coma.
Coma Recovery and what to expect.
"I know it's a lot right now." The nurse started, putting a hand on your shoulder. "But with his health and how well it was before hand, I'm sure he'll be up and be a pain in no time."
You smile at her, feeling thankful for such a wonderful angel of a woman at nearly 2am.
"Thank you. I appreciate it."
"Of course, I'll leave you to it. Feel free to talk to him, every little bit helps. And when you're ready to rock and roll out of here, just hit the call button and I'll come get you."
The nurse leaves with her final words, shutting the door as you turn looking at Leon.
Leaning towards him, you take a deep breath in.
"Hey Dumbass..." You stare at him, interlocking your fingers with his limp ones.
"This is the part where you're supposed to say 'Hey Shithead' back to me... Like normal, y'know?" Patting the back of his hand, you nod.
"Yeah I know, this hospital room..." You look around whistling softly as you look back at his face. "You'd be bitching about how over the top it is for a hospital room... I just know you would."
Sitting back in the wheelchair, you hold his hand tighter, leaning into it.
"You... I hope you can hear me. Cause I just..."
You look up at his face, feeling too uncomfortable. It's hard to almost look at him.
So many tubes and wires! What would he do to break the tension right now?
"Wanna hear a joke about paper?"
He doesn't respond.
"Never mind. It's tearable..."
Fighting the urge to look away, you lean closer again. Just needing to get what you need to say out.
"Look, I know I'm not mushy or soft usually but..."
You swallow your fears by gripping his hand for dear life.
"I need you."
He doesn't respond.
This starts to feel hopeless, but you remember.
At least he's still alive...
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querenciasturniolo · 10 months
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done ⮕ m.s.
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word count: 1k
warnings: angst, swearing, uncomfortable conversation, crying, panic attack
summary: matt has been distant since the triplets moved to LA, and you’re determined to find out why, even if it means the two of you are done
a/n: angst has always been difficult for me to write, but i hope i did it justice 🤞🏻
everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.
requested: yes (: @floofparker i hope this works!
Things between you and Matt had been rocky for a while.
His texts had been few and far between, and drier than they’ve ever been. You’d talked to Chris and Nick, asking them if everything was alright with Matt. They’d told you that being away from Boston was hard, and the distance could have been fucking with him, but that he hadn’t said anything to them. All of this led you to where you were now; sitting on their couch and waiting for Matt to get home to see him.
Nick and Chris had already gone to their rooms, but Matt had yet to make an appearance.
“He’s taking a drive, he should be back soon.” Nick had told you, a strange feeling swirling in your gut the longer you waited. It wasn’t until the front door opened and you heard him walking up the stairs that your heart started racing.
Every atom in your body was on high alert as you finally saw him. He hadn’t noticed you yet, going about taking his keys off of his belt loop and throwing them on the table. You had missed him so much, but seeing him made the hurt you were feeling more intense.
“Matt.”
His whole body jerked and he finally faced you with his hand on his chest. “Jesus Christ, Y/n?” He said, his eyes wide as his eyes met yours. “What are you doing here?”
You took in a shaky breath and pushed yourself off of the couch. “I wanted to see you—wanted to talk to you.” You said, your voice coming out uneven. Matt nodded, a forced smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug. The hug was uncomfortable to say the least, as if he was only doing it because he was obligated. You pulled away and wrapped your arms around yourself.
“What’s wrong?”
You sighed and shook your head, trying your best to keep it together. “What’s going on, Matty?” You asked, almost wincing at the nickname. You hadn’t called him that since you were kids, but you couldn’t help it. Him practically pretending you didn’t exist since he’d been in LA was hard, it was one of the hardest things you’d ever experienced.
Matt sighed, and you could tell this conversation wasn’t going to go well. “What do you mean?”
You turned and headed back to the couch, patting the cushion next to you without looking up. The couch dipped from where he was sitting, and you sighed and looked up at him. Your eyes were burning and hot, the knot in your throat near excruciating as you tried to keep your tears at bay.
“Do you even want me anymore?”
Matt was silent, his face void of any emotion as he stared down at the table. It felt like a thousand pound weight was laying on your chest, your eyes closing as the tears you’d been fighting finally slipped through and rolled down your cheeks. He didn’t speak, but his silence was enough.
A shaky sigh left your lips, your mouth completely dry as you aggressively wiped at your cheeks and pushed yourself off of the couch. You needed to get away from him, you couldn’t breathe. The moment his hand gripped your arm, you lost it.
“Y/n, wait—“
You turned around, your breathing labored as you pulled your arm away from his grasp.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked, your voice sounding so desperate as you tried to level your breathing. Tears were pooling in his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair.
“I-I…I don’t know, I didn’t know how. You were just so far away, I couldn’t stand missing you so I just stopped trying.” He said, his voice rough with emotion. You couldn’t tell if the heaviness in your chest was heartbreak or panic.
Fuck, you couldn’t breathe.
You had backed yourself into the wall to get some distance between the two of you, your whole body shaking as you stared at the floor. You were frozen, your fight or flight going haywire as you avoided looking at him. Your breaths came in and out as short bursts, your throat aching at the force.
“Y/n, baby, breathe.” Matt said, his voice sounding too close and too far away all at once. Suddenly, his arms were wrapped around you, the embrace tight to keep you from shaking so violently. The weight on your chest dissipated little by little, the heartache stubbornly staying as the panic slowly went away.
“What did I do wrong?” You whispered, your voice broken and pathetic as Matt’s grip tightened.
“Nothing, you didn't do anything wrong. I should have just talked to you.” He replied, his voice almost quieter than yours.
“Are we…is this done?”
Matt sighed into your hair, you felt the movement of him shaking his head. “I don’t want it to be, I can fix this.” He said, his shoulders relaxing as you finally wrapped your arms around him. “Fuck, I missed you so much. I’m so sorry.”
The two of you stayed that way for what felt like ages, leveling your breathing and clinging to each other for dear life. You pulled away first, but not completely, using your hands to wipe the stray tears that had fallen down his cheeks.
“Just talk to me, please. I…I need you to talk to me from now on.” You said, Matt nodding as he closed his eyes and rested his head against your hold. You were exhausted, your body and head heavy with all of the emotions you’d just flown through. Matt opened his eyes then, studying your features intently before he spoke. He was good at reading you, he always has been.
“You can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” He said, immediately going to pull away. You shook your head and pulled away completely. You lightly grabbed his hand, a slight shake to yours as you walked towards his bedroom. He followed behind you, a few sniffles from the both of you breaking through the silence.
You dropped onto the mattress and pulled him down, wrapping your arms around him the moment he was comfortable. He pulled the comforter out from under the two of you and pulled it up to your shoulders. You knew the two of you would have to really talk about this in the morning, but you couldn’t stand the idea of sleeping in his bed without his warmth.
The only thing you processed was the soft kiss pressed to the top of your head and the gentle movement of his fingertips dancing along your arm before sleep fully consumed you.
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denimbex1986 · 11 months
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'If Peaky Blinders made the Irish actor a household name, will Christopher Nolan’s nuclear blockbuster send him into the stratosphere? He talks about extreme weight loss, hating school and why his next character won’t be a smoker.
Cillian Murphy is struggling with what he can and can’t say about his title role in Oppenheimer, the latest Christopher Nolan epic, such is the secrecy surrounding this film. Murphy is under “strict instructions” not to talk about the content. Which is awkward when you’ve flown to his home in Ireland to interview him specifically about playing the physicist who oversaw the creation of the atomic bomb, later detonated over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It’s not clear who issued these instructions. Nolan? The studio? The US government? All I know is that as well as Murphy being gagged by hefty NDAs, I am not allowed to see it (“bit unfortunate”, he concedes).
So, yes, here we sit in an empty upstairs room of a restaurant near his house in Monkstown, Dublin, working out how to do this. The room is dark, the sun shining through a solitary Velux lighting his features like a Géricault. The only background noise is the low hum of a wine refrigerator. Murphy loathes interviews, looks visibly tortured at points. But he relaxes when I ask if he’s pleased with Oppenheimer. “I am, yeah,” he says. “I don’t like watching myself – it’s like, ‘Oh, fucking hell’ – but it’s an extraordinary piece of work. Very provocative and powerful. It feels sometimes like a biopic, sometimes like a thriller, sometimes like a horror. It’s going to knock people out,” he adds. “What [Nolan] does with film, it fucks you up a little bit.”
Nolan wouldn’t disagree. The director recently told Wired magazine that some of those who’d seen it were left “absolutely devastated … they can’t speak”. Which sounds like a bad thing, but is related perhaps to the thought of the 214,000 Japanese people, overwhelmingly civilians, who lost their lives when the bombs were dropped. Kai Bird, the historian who co-authored American Prometheus, the 2008 biography of J Robert Oppenheimer upon which the film is based, said he was still “emotionally recovering” from seeing the film, clarifying that it was “a stunning artistic achievement”.
Murphy’s portrayal is said to be astonishing (“Oscar-worthy” is the buzz). This is not unbelievable. While Hollywood might not know him as a leading man, this quietly intense actor has long been celebrated in the UK and Ireland, most notably for his nine-year stint as Tommy Shelby in Peaky Blinders. When he first appeared on our screens, looking like a renaissance painting of Saint Sebastian – chiselled head contrasting with translucent blue eyes – it was impossible not to be distracted. He appeared first on stage in Enda Walsh’s Disco Pigs, then the screen adaptation. Then 28 Days Later; Intermission; Ken Loach’s The Wind That Shakes the Barley. Previous collaborations with Nolan include the Dark Knight trilogy, Inception and Dunkirk, “significant milestones in my career,” he says, adding that Nolan “might be the perfect director”.
It was Nolan’s wife, the producer Emma Thomas, who called Murphy one afternoon at the home he shares with his wife, artist Yvonne McGuinness, and two teenage sons. Nolan doesn’t actually have a telephone, or an email, or computer for that matter: “He’s the most analogue individual you could possibly encounter.” So, Emma said Chris would like a word and passed the receiver, then the director came on the line. “Cillian, I’d love you to play the lead in this new thing,” he said. Murphy tries to recreate his response to this news. “I was lost for words. But thrilled. Like beyond thrilled.” It is characteristic of Murphy that the modulation of his voice barely changes as he expresses this. He was so stunned, he had to sit down. “Your mind explodes.”
In the absence of the three-hour feature, I scrutinise Oppenheimer’s three-minute trailer. It’s a rush of snapshots against the crackling of a Geiger counter. There’s Murphy, short back and sides, lifting 1940s eye goggles; blue and red atoms coming at him fast; orange light; white light; blackout; silence. Massive explosion against the backdrop of space. Overlaid is Murphy’s narration, “We’re in a race against the Nazis / and I know what it means / if the Nazis have a bomb.” There’s Matt Damon looking porky as army general Leslie Groves, director of the Manhattan Project: “They have a 12-month head start.” Murphy, pointing with cigarette: “18.”
He has put back on some of the weight he lost for the part, I’m relieved to see; his skin isn’t quite so taut over his skull and there are freckles over those eagle-wing cheekbones. He was determined to nail the scientist’s silhouette “with the porkpie hat and the pipe”, testing himself to see how little he could eat. “You become competitive with yourself a little bit which is not healthy. I don’t advise it.” He won’t say how many kilograms he lost, or what food the nutritionist told him to cut out. NDA? “Ach, no. I don’t want it to be, ‘Cillian lost x weight for the part’.”
Then again, the hurtling speed at which Nolan worked, crisscrossing the US, made it easy to skip meals. Murphy began to forget about food in the same way he began to forget about sleep. “It’s like you’re on this fucking train that’s just bombing. It’s bang, bang, bang, bang. You sleep for a few hours, get up, bang it again. I was running on crazy energy; I went over a threshold to where I was not worrying about food or anything. I was so in it, a state of hyper …” he gropes for the word, “hyper something. But it was good because the character was like that. He never ate.” Oppenheimer subsisted on little more than Chesterfield cigarettes and double-strength martinis, rims dipped in lime. “Cigarettes and pipes. He would alternate between the two. That’s what did for him in the end,” Murphy adds, a nod to the scientist’s death from cancer in 1967. “I’ve smoked so many fake cigarettes for Peaky and this. My next character will not be a smoker. They can’t be good for you. Even herbal cigarettes have health warnings now.”
I raise method acting and Murphy tilts his head and frowns. “Method acting is a sort of … No,” he says, firm but with a half smile. Oppenheimer had many defining characteristics, not least walking on the balls of his feet and a vocal tic that sounded like nim-nim-nim, but Murphy didn’t want to do an impression. Nolan was obsessed with the Brillo-texture hair, so they spent “a long time working on hair”. And the voice. The real question for Murphy was what combination – ambition, madness, delusion, deep hatred of the Nazi regime? – allowed this theoretical physicist to agree to an experiment he knew could obliterate humankind. “He was dancing between the raindrops morally. He was complex, contradictory, polymathic; incredibly attractive intellectually and charismatic, but,” he decides, “ultimately unknowable.
“Listen, it’s not like a spoiler,” he says, checking himself before he leans in, “but there are incidents in his early life that were quite worrying; very erratic.” They are in the film and the book, he steers. I suspect he is referring to Oppenheimer’s postgrad at Cambridge in 1926, when he placed a poisoned apple on the desk of a tutor towards whom he harboured complicated feelings of inadequacy and jealousy. Arguably, this was attempted murder. But Oppenheimer’s rich New York parents rushed in to bundle him into psychoanalysis. He was diagnosed with “dementia praecox”, a term describing symptoms associated with schizophrenia.
Murphy likes these complex characters; they’re his meat. People that don’t necessarily follow the – yawn – traditional transformative arc of storytelling. Not villains, exactly (although he’s played a few, including Scarecrow in Dark Knight and Jackson Rippner in Red Eye): “Villains are good if they’re well written, but if it’s one note or a trope, then they are dull.” He likes a script to stretch leisurely into all corners of the human condition, “all the shades”. At the same time, you have to understand his exceptional ability to portray interiority, physically manifesting intense human emotion without a word, radiating fierce, consuming energy. Which he does today, actually, when I stray off track.
Although Nolan is usually, shall we say, antiseptic in his approach to romance, Oppenheimer represents a significant shift. He told Wired the love story aspect “is as strong as I’ve ever done”. It features prolonged full nudity for Murphy and Florence Pugh, who plays Oppenheimer’s ex-fiancee, as well as sex, and there are complicated scenes with Emily Blunt, who plays his wife, “that were pretty heavy”. Murphy turns coy: “I’m under strict instructions not to give away anything.”
He asks if I’ve heard of chemistry tests. “They put two actors in a room to see if there’s any spark, and have all the producers and director at a table watching. I don’t know what metric they use, and it seems so outrageously silly, but sometimes you get a chemistry and nobody knows why.” This is a roundabout way of saying his scenes with Blunt and Pugh conjure this magic. His established bond with Blunt (they co-starred in A Quiet Place II) meant “the audience gets something for free”, he says. “You can be immediately vulnerable and open, and try stuff. There were moments where I remember saying, ‘I couldn’t have done that if it wasn’t with you.’”
Murphy, 47, grew up the eldest of four in Cork. His father was a civil servant, his mother a French teacher. They were a middle-class family, musical; his father “can pick up any instrument”, his brother played piano, and they regularly got stuck into “traditional Irish sessions”. Bookshelves were stuffed with literature, the radio often on, the “shitty” TV set not so much. Home life was busy but his parents taught him French and Irish, and sent him to an all-boys academic, rugby-playing private school. “I got all the education” he says, drily.
The story of how much he disliked the Presentation Brothers College, the hard-drinking masculine emphasis, how he found solace playing guitar in a band, is much rehearsed and he says today he doesn’t want “to slag the school off. I hear it’s great now.” Something about this experience seems nonetheless unsettling. He had one friend, who is still his best friend, “so I wasn’t, like, an outcast”. He played rugby for the first couple of years, but abandoned it “because everyone was all of a sudden towering over me.” Was it an unhappy time? He shifts. “It was OK. I was a bit of a messer, like I’d get in trouble and say nothing. It wasn’t the ideal school for me.”
He enrolled in and dropped out of a law degree at University College Cork, which created some friction with his parents (when I ask if his own sons will go to university in Dublin, he says, “Whatever they want”). He continued with the band, his first creative love but the one that got away. When they were offered a contract with Acid Jazz records, he turned it down for a number of reasons, he says, crucially that he didn’t feel good enough. He still writes and plays at home but, no, you won’t be hearing any of his recordings, ever, he says.
It’s a funny thing talking to Murphy. He’s at once garrulous (on the craft, or literature, or ideas) and reticent (pretty much anything else). I sense in previous interviews that he skates over issues close to his heart – such as the expression of emotion in Ireland and the need to teach empathy in schools. But when I try to drill in to these topics, get to the root, he clams shut, emitting energy like a nuclear reactor.
Later, in a different context, he will tell me a truth: “I’m stubborn and lacking in confidence, which is a terrible combination. I don’t want to put anything out that I don’t think is excellent.” But he clearly hates the pantomime of publicity, asking why I am returning to certain topics and repeating lines I’ve read elsewhere. I can almost see him at home with its views towards the Irish Sea, complaining to his wife as they tuck into supper: “Another one, asking the same fucking questions.”
If he could get out of going to Cannes, of standing on red carpets, dressed as is his habit for a funeral, hair shellacked, hands in pockets; if he could turn his back on the coloured-foam mics thrust in his face, he would. He really would. No, it dawns on him now, there’s something even worse than the red carpet; there’s the talkshow rounds. The very word “talkshow” comes out of him like a pain from his ribcage, as if the parcelling out of amuse-bouche anecdotes, offering them up to the forced laughter of that false god of show business, the studio audience, is in itself the most cheapening experience known to mankind.
“I do them because you’re contractually obliged to. I just endure them. I’ve always found it difficult. I’ve said this so many, many times.” Then there’s the double wince of realising that, yes, he’s done it again. He’s laid into the industry that feeds him. His hands raise slowly in surrender. “I want to just caveat this by saying, I’m so privileged. I’m so happy to be doing what I love. I’m really lucky. But I don’t enjoy the personality side of being an actor. I don’t understand why I should be entertaining and scintillating on a talkshow. I don’t know why all of a sudden that’s expected of me. Why?”
There’s an awkward silence. I say that he reminds me of Naomi Osaka, the tennis player who refused to talk to journalists after the French Open in 2021. He says he feels “100%” sympathy with her, “because why should she have to perform?” Then he relents. “But I get it. I get it’s a kind of ecosystem where the film feeds the publicity which feeds the talkshows which goes back and feeds the film, so, like, that’s how it works. I suppose I’m just not good at it. At interviews, at this stuff,” he gestures at me. He says after he leaves me today he’ll be going down the stairs thinking of all the things he’s said and worrying it’s come across all wrong. “Do you know what Sam Beckett said? ‘I have no views to inter.’ I love that. That should be the interview.”
We return to his art, the tension falls away and he’s back to his charming self, charged air evaporating. Since Oppenheimer, he’s also wrapped Small Things Like These, an adaptation of Claire Keegan’s brilliant novella set in 1985 in a small Irish town on the edge of which is a convent and “laundry”. Murphy is a huge fan of Keegan. He remembers reading her 2010 novel Foster on a train and having to pull his hoodie over his face because he was crying so hard. Anyway, he’d wanted to work with the Peaky Blinders director Tim Mielants and they were throwing ideas around in his sitting room when Murphy’s wife suggested Small Things. “No, there’s no way,” Murphy said. “That’s going to be gone already.” But when he called the agent, he found it was available. “I went, ‘No, you’ve got to be fucking kidding.’” Murphy pitched the idea to Matt Damon, who has set up a studio with Ben Affleck. “From there it all just happened really quickly.”
Murphy plays Bill Furlong who, funnily enough, is a man of few words. Keegan’s light-touch writing is everything he loves in art – the sense that you are not being bashed over the head by an idea. That’s how he tries to act, he adds. “I’m always trying to cut lines in scenes, because I feel like you can transmit it. Like when you see a person on a train thinking, or driving a car, and you are purely observing someone and feeling the energy that is vibrating from them. That’s the sort of acting I love. In a lot of film and television, they want to cut those bits to go to the action. I like films that pose the big questions and then leave it to the audience.” Perhaps this is at the heart of his reticence in interviews? That he doesn’t feel the need to explain.
He still finds it “nuts” that the last of the Magdalene laundries closed in 1996, that it was illegal to buy condoms in Ireland until 1985, that divorce was made legal only in 1996. He remembers vividly thousands of people still going to see moving statues in Cork when he was growing up. “Crazy. But, like, how far the country has come since then, we’re so socially advanced now compared with where we were. But you must look back. And art is a better way of doing that than reading all these reports [into the laundries].” (Afterwards, he emails me: “The nation is actually dealing with an unresolved collective trauma. Who knows how long this will take to heal, but I feel strongly that art, film and literature can help with that process. It’s a kinder and gentler sort of therapy. I hope that our movie can help with that in its own little way.”)
Because he’s a nice man, because he doesn’t want me to feel bad about our encounter, and because he’s generous and hospitable, Murphy finishes by telling me some of the best places to visit in Ireland. He and his family are staying here for the summer. They’ve had it with air travel and his home town of Cork is only a couple of hours away. He supplies me with other recommendations: a great book he’s just read, Brian, by Jeremy Cooper, oh, and there’s the Francis Bacon studio exhibition I should catch on my way out.
But before I go, what has he learned from playing Oppenheimer? Foremost, he says, that scientists think differently. He knew this already from playing physicist Robert Capa in Danny Boyle’s Sunshine (2007) and hanging out in Cern, home of the Large Hadron Collider in Geneva, for research. “I had dinner with all these geniuses. I’ll never understand quantum mechanics, but I was interested in what science does to their perspective.” He sought their opinions on subjects that matter – love, politics, our place in the universe, “infinity, or whatever the fuck. Because they have a completely different way of taking in information than we do. I remember one scientist saying, ‘I don’t believe in love. It’s a biological phenomenon, the exchange of hormones between the female and the male. That’s all. Love is a nonsense.’” Murphy taps the table with his hand. “I couldn’t go along with that, obviously.”
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bedlamsbard · 5 months
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🌟 for The Horizon Line
Oooh, let's do one of the Endgame prologue flashbacks from Chapter 6! Mostly because this is a scene I really like and it's not one that people tend to comment on.
Then
This is one of the chapters that has an alternating "then-now" structure, and it's the first of two (the other one is 16) to flip very quickly. This is the second of three flashback sequences in Horizon that come directly out of the Endgame prologue (a.k.a. the 2018 part of Endgame, not the 2023 part). I do a fair amount of rewriting canon scenes; it's always an interesting experience. I get to know that scene really well and I tend to find out how difficult it is to translate between mediums.
“Oh no,” Rocket said.
Steve stared down at the gauntlet with his expression gone completely blank – not even horror, just a kind of flat incomprehension that any of this was happening. Natasha heard the faint sound she made only after she had made it, a faint stunned gasp like a wounded animal, and even then was wondering who it had come from before she felt the ache in her own throat.
Steve's behavior in this scene and throughout Endgame is really interesting, because especially in the 2018 scenes he's very blank. And Chris Evans is generally pretty expression (so much of Steve's excellent Avengers characterization is carried out through microexpressions rather than what Steve's actually saying), so his blankness in this sequence is interesting. One of the things I have to do when I'm rewriting a canon sequence is basically add in the character interpretation that may or may not be there onscreen.
The Infinity Stones weren’t there. Nothing was there, just empty, blackened hollows where Natasha still remembered the Stones gleaming the last time she had seen Thanos, energy running in multi-colored rivulets up his arm before he had snapped his fingers.
“Where are they?” Steve said, his voice so toneless that it was nearly a statement
The only response was a low groan, until Carol tightened her grip on Thanos’s throat and hissed, “Answer the question.”
“The universe required correction,” Thanos said, his voice coming out in harsh gasps of pain. “After that, the Stones served no purpose beyond temptation.”
“You murdered trillions!” Bruce said, and shoved him with both hands. The Hulkbuster’s strength threw him backwards, making Carol lose her grip and knocking Rhodey out of the way.
Thanos pushed himself up onto his remaining elbow and said, “You should be grateful.”
This sequence is directly out of canon, dialogue and action. Also Thanos's dialogue is a nightmare to write, especially pulling it straight from canon -- I noticed this when I was writing the Thor flashbacks in Morning too. He doesn't have a very natural cadence, and it makes hard to put into prose vs. onscreen.
Bruce lunged for him again, but Loki’s hand closed on his wrist, his heels digging divots into the floor as Bruce strained against him; the Hulkbuster might be able to beat the crap out of the Hulk, but apparently couldn’t move an Asgardian who had decided not to be moved. Loki released Bruce a moment later and put the blade of his polearm under Thanos’s chin. “Be careful,” he said softly, “not to speak of gratitude again.”
The scene diverges here with Loki's involvement. In canon Bruce keeps beating up Thanos until Natasha asks about the Stones.
Note that the Hulkbuster is not at the Hulk's strength, at least going up against an Asgardian.
Natasha walked around Bruce’s massive form so that she could see Thanos, resisting the urge to start screaming and not stop, but there was an unfamiliar tremor in her voice as she forced herself to say, “Where are the Stones?”
Pulling character interpretations from what's onscreen again; Nat's less blank than Steve is. She's also trembling in that scene, which is a detail I like.
“Gone,” Thanos said. From his expression, he had no idea who she was. “Reduced to atoms.”
Does Thanos actually know who Natasha is? Open question, never confirmed one way or another by canon; canon really only identifies that he knows who Tony is and not any of the other Avengers.
“You used them two days ago!” Bruce said.
“I used the Stones to destroy the Stones,” Thanos said, and gestured at the damaged gauntlet, ignoring the way the razor-sharp blade of Loki’s polearm opened a thin line on the underside of his chin. “It nearly killed me, but the work is done. It always will be. I am –”
“If you say ‘inevitable,’ I will cleave your head from your body,” Loki said.
Canon divergence: in canon Thanos finishes his line, here Loki interrupts him.
“We have to tear this place apart,” Rhodey said, his voice shaking. “He has to be lying –”
“My father is many things,” Nebula said. “A liar is not one of them.” She flicked a look at Loki anyway, as if asking for confirmation, and he gave her the tiniest headshake in response. God of lies, Natasha remembered, very distantly; maybe it meant something other than just another title. It didn’t seem very important right now.
Loki and Nebula have an interesting relationship and this hints at some of the places it's been in the past. Loki, walking lie detector.
Thanos looked from one of them to the other, as if seeing Loki for the first time, and made an expression that wasn’t quite a smile. “My daughter,” he said to Nebula, and then, to Loki, “My son.”
Divergence. In canon he says, "Ah. Thank you, daughter. Perhaps I treated you too harshly." Thor kills Thanos immediately after his addresses Nebula in canon.
“My parents were Odin and Frigga of Asgard,” Loki said, soft and dangerous. “I’d think you’d remember it, since a son of Odin was what you decided you wanted more than another child of yours.”
Loki, who just lost his entire family, is having none of this. I don't think all of Loki's backstory with Thanos has come out in any of my Yonderverse writing, but it is revealed in Morning, and I use the same backstory between universes. Loki started as part of the Black Order, one of the Children of Thanos, during a period of time when he wasn't using his own name (Nebula uses his Black Order name in the Horizon 3 flashback), but when Thanos found out that he was Odin's son he decided Loki was more useful as a way to get into the Nine Realms to get the Tesseract (with the later intention of getting the Reality Stone).
This time Thanos’s expression was definitely a smile. “And where did it bring you? Back to me.”
This line is from 2014 Thanos in Endgame, not 2023 Thanos. 2014 Thanos uses it in Yonder 4, too. (I do think Thanos's dialogue is pretty overwrought, but sometimes it works.)
“To kill you,” Loki said bluntly. “I don’t care about the Stones. I don’t have anyone to bring back. You made certain of that before the culling.”
Loki straight-up is just here for the murder because as far as he knows all of Asgard is dead. As is revealed later on in the scene, he has no way of knowing that any of the Asgardians made it off the Statesman and has been operating on the assumption they didn't. He also doesn't really care about the Snap at all because he doesn't have anyone left to lose.
“Wait – wait, Loki, hang on –” Bruce said hastily. “You don’t know that he’s not lying, the Stones have to be here –”
“No,” Nebula said. “All my life, my father has only ever wanted one thing, and having achieved it –”
“They are beyond the reach of any living thing,” Thanos said. “As they should be. The work is done,” he repeated. “And it cannot be undone.”
This is added dialogue for this scene and isn't from the original canon scene, since Thanos is dead by this point in the canonical scene.
“Loki, get out of the way,” Steve said abruptly.
They all turned to look at him, startled; even Loki’s gaze flickered away from Thanos for an instant. Steve stripped his shields off and dropped them to the floor with a clatter as he took a step forwards, his fists clenched.
This is actually my favorite part of this sequence -- Steve planning to beat Thanos to death with his bare hands. I give Steve a lot more sharp edges than I think most writers do and I am here for his violent tendencies, which are pretty consistent throughout the MCU; it's really just Endgame where it's not there, because he's so muted throughout the film. (I read Endgame!Steve as being very, very depressed, though functional, which I think I've talked about somewhere.) It was important to me that it was his bare hands too, which is why he takes off the Wakandan shields for it.
Loki raised his free hand, green-gold glimmering on his fingertips. “No,” he said. “Your right to vengeance is not greater than mine.”
Loki about to get into it with Steve over who has a better right to beat Thanos to death.
“You should be grateful to me, Asgardian,” Thanos said. “Is this not what you wanted? Is kingship not what you claimed when the Chitauri’s claws were at your throat? The rightful king of Asgard, king once more?”
Hints of Loki's backstory with Thanos and the Chitauri here, touching on whatever happened immediately prior to The Avengers and calling back to Loki's conversations with The Other there.
Loki looked back at him and put his head a little to the side, his teeth showing like a wolf’s. “You murdered my brother,” he said. “You slaughtered my people. You scoured Asgard root and stem from the branches of the World Tree and you speak to me of kingship? King of ashes and atoms, shattered bone and spilled blood, spread out across the stars where you hunted us? I would kill you for Thor alone, but the blood-debt you owe my people can never be paid in full.”
"Ashes and atoms" is a callback to what Loki says during the coronation sequence in Chapter 1: "Asgard is ashes and atoms."
“I took only what I was owed,” Thanos said. “You should never have tried to keep the Tesseract from me.”
“I owed you nothing then and I owe you nothing now,” Loki said, “save a death that will be far quicker than those you gave my brother and my people. And when I’m done, may the spirits of all Asgard stand forth to rip you to shreds on your passage through the great void of Ginnungagap.”
Yonderverse Loki gets very formal and traditional about Asgard in a way that most of my other Lokis don't, because his whole thing is that there was literally nothing left, and he has to be all of Asgard and the Asgardian royal family. Without him the Asgardians likely wouldn't have survived as Asgardians and he's extremely cognizant of that in a way that Thor isn't in the main line canon -- probably because Thor has never really had to think very hard about his own identity and what's important to him as an Asgardian, and Loki has. Thor doesn't have to decide whether or not to be an Asgardian and Loki does.
"I owed you nothing then and I owe you nothing now" is an echo of something Loki says to Proxima Midnight in Yonder 5: "I owe the Chitauri nothing and I owe you less."
“‘All’ Asgard?” Thanos echoed him, and smiled, the scarring on the left side of his face making the expression even more dreadful than it might have been normally. “I destroyed only those who came between me and what was rightfully mine. I am not unkind, my son. Those that fled rather than fight a losing battle, I allowed to escape.”
Until now Loki didn't know that the other Asgardians had survived. Endgame never addresses how Thor finds out or what his reaction is, but it's pretty vital for how Yonderverse Loki is, so it has to be on the page.
Loki’s eyes went huge.
“Oh, god, they’re alive,” Bruce said, sounding stunned. “Oh, god – the Asgardians in the escape pods – the Valkyrie and all the others, all the kids –”
Bruce didn't know either, of course -- remember that he was on the Statesman too.
Loki dropped his polearm and lunged forward, twisting his fists in the front of the Titan’s shirt. “Where are they?” he shouted. “Where are my people?”
First sign that Loki might have something to live for other than vengeance because at this point he really didn't believe that he did.
This sequence is interspersed with the Atlanta operation in the present day -- the last operation the Avengers did as a team and the first operation they're doing as a team post-Snap. I actually do write these as they appear in the chapter, which is to say that I alternate between writing the flashback sequence and the present-day sequence, rather than writing all of one and all of the other and then stitching them together. For me, this makes the transitions between past and present really snappy and lets them flow thematically from one to the other -- the next scene after this is Natasha going after what she believes is Clint (Sir Not Appearing In This Story), and reveal of the Hulk-Widow that closes out that scene leads directly into Loki's shock about the surviving Asgardians that opens the next.
One thing I struggle with in rewrites of canon scenes is that very often the ones I'm rewriting are big multi-character scenes where a lot of the characters are simply not doing anything most of the time and this is one of them. Despite being a Natasha POV scene, she really doesn't have any input past the opening, which does stand out to me on reread. She's also not doing anything in the canon scene. (And I'd bet there's a high chance that when they filmed the scene, all of the actors were not there and it's just stitched together because Endgame did a lot of that.) It's one of those places where I can either add in the character having more interaction in that scene, which I do back in the Chapter 3 flashback with Tony's arrival, because Natasha doesn't say anything in that scene in Endgame but does have dialogue in my version or just live with it and hope it doesn't show too much.
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power-chords · 11 months
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There are no fewer than three interlocking "spheres" of allegory that I have identified so far in the novel, and by retroactive extension the film, that are occurring within/underneath the actual plot of Heat/Heat 2. In descending order of how immediately accessible they are to the reader:
1) The tragedy of development writ large through major breakthroughs or "revolutions" in the fields of industry, technology, and human psychology — we'll call this The Berman-Mosse Faust Sphere. broadly speaking, Neil McCauley represents the transition from the industrial revolution to the atomic age, Vincent Hanna the atomic age to the information age, and Chris Shiherlis the information age to machine or "automation" age.
This is subtler in the film, but ALL OVER the place in the novel: Neil being linked with steel/trains/the Bessemer process/westward expansion, Vincent with phones/surveillance technology/radiation/SPEED, Chris gets a ton of fun gaming and computer imagery. Development here also refers to politics, economics, culture, and philosophy; the reason Neil and Vincent are "paired" is because they both represent totalizing or deterministic schemes of material and epistemological (re-)production: the way the world works, why human beings make the choices they make, how they make the stuff they make to master their environment. They are control- and harmony-seekers; they're parts to the same Modern, Enlightenment whole; they're contrapuntal. Chris, aptly named, is the first real "break" into the postmodern present. All, however, contain traces of what came before them, as well as vague premonitions of the future.
2) The Literary Sphere, or the tragedy of hermeneutics as an ethical failure to fully account for, or truthfully represent/interpret/translate, the infinitely intersecting and contingent stories of humankind: individuals, families, communities, civilizations. In telling the story of one, how do we distort, diminish, or even destroy the stories of others? To whom do we owe those stories, and to whom do we owe our silence? What if there are situations where it's both?
3) This is where it gets truly wild: The Jewish Sphere, or the tragedy of Jewish assimilation, the double-edged sword of false promises from one generation to the next. All notions of belonging external to "Jewishness" itself (capitalist success, the nation-state, academia, the labor movement) are doomed to fail; worse, as survival strategies, they are no less susceptible to strains of colonialist/fascist thinking. There is no safety. Forgetting will not save you and in fact may corrupt you. Remembering hurts even worse, but remember you must. The BALLS on this guy!!!!
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sabyfangirl16 · 2 years
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A Feverish Brother
RING. RING.
That loud, irritating, yet usual morning ringing alarm, was in charge of waking up a deeply slumbering Kratt. His brain took a while to receive the awful resonation, making him moan a little, gradually returning to the world of living after a good night's sleep.
Not baring the noise any longer, Martin stopped the alarm by smacking it with his fist, perhaps a little too hard. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting them, before getting up into a sitting position while stretching. Looking around, he spotted his brother on the other side of their shared room, somehow still sound asleep, his head hidden under his typical favorite green blanket.
Unknowing why, Martin sensed something was out of place. How come his brother not be awake by now? It was odd. He brushed off the thought, pushing away all suspicion from the insignificant situation.
As the sunrise shone through the window and on his face, a small smile of delight brightened his expression, giving him the much needed motivation to crawl out of bed. His feet and the floor met, then he dragged himself out of the chamber.
"You have five minutes to get up Chris!" He let out sympathetically before walking out the door, leaving him in his snoozy state.
Oh, if only he knew…
Moments later, Martin returned to the room, only to find his brother still asleep. For a moment, he thought he was just teasing him, so - with a grin - he went over to him, planning to force him out of bed in a matter of playfulness. Just as he roughly pulled the sheet away, a sudden series of chivering hit Chris like an atomic bomb, causing the whole bed to shake intensely.
"Chris?" Martin called, dropping the fabric on the floor. "Bro, you okay?" He knelt beside his bed, grabbing him by the shoulders.
"Chris! What's wron-" The sight staggered him; his brother's face was red and sweaty, his breathing heavy and his eyes squeezed shut.
"Chris?" He called out, but the younger brother only kept his eyes closed, clearly dealing with some kind of uneasiness.
Concerned, Martin gently felt his forehead with the back of his hand, only to discover warmth radiating from his pale skin.
Wide eyed, he let out with a desolated tone. "Brother, you're burning up!"
Instinctively, he picked up the blanket he once dropped and used it to cover up his ill little brother, who was still chivering uncontrollably, tucking him in comfortably. Chris let out unanticipated, violent coughs, which triggered Martin's overprotectiveness; he rubbed his chest in an attempt to alleviate his agony.
"Just hang in there, I'll be right back!" He softly reassured his half awake brother, a few moans escaping him as a response.
Briskly, the empathetic older sibling dashed out and back into the room with some supply: a tissu box, a glass of water, some medicine, pain killers, a damp washcloth, and a few other things… All at once, he set up a little stationary on Chris' night table, a satisfying one that would answer his brother's needs during his period of sickness.
Chris looked up with feverish eyes, finding his older brother warmly looking down at him, and with a sore throat that made speaking almost impossible for him, he grumbled in pain.
"It's ok, Chris. Just try to relax," he said softly while adjusting the blanket near his neck, still wearing that same affectionate smile, attempting to hide his worry.
He then grabbed the damp washcloth and set it down on his little brother's forehead, edging his burning temples. He winced as the heat and cold clashed on his facial skin, then let out a sigh of relief, allowing himself to relax. Martin went over to close the curtain, blocking any light from disturbing his sick little brother, then exited the chamber, leaving him to get the rest that he needed.
He would come and check on him throughout the day, ask him how he was holding up, give him medicine, bring him soup and tea, tell him amusing creature jokes… He would do whatever he could to keep a smile on his little brother's face, and nothing would change that.
"Thanks, bro." Chris said with a hoarse voice, before taking one last sip of tea.
"Oh, it's nothing." Martin rubbed his hair affectionately, then put the cup on the night table.
As he stood to walk away, he turned to him one last time. "Get well soon, lil' bro," he whispered. A small smile of graditude made its way on Chris' face.
And with that, Martin walked out, leaving him to rest in quietude and peace.
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nijjhar · 5 months
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John, the Baptist, a Witness to the Light worshipped Yahweh whilst Chris... John, the Baptist, a Witness to the Light worshipped Yahweh whilst Christ Jesus worshipped Elohim. https://youtu.be/oaQ5ozV-7MU Allah is NOOR and you cannot apply Shariah Laws that bind you on NOOR that sets you FREE. This Islam is not of Allah called INSHALLAH but of Mullahs called Inshmullah. Our Khokhar Jatt Chaudhry Saddam Hussein Khokhar Jatt was executed by the American Jews. JEWS THEMSELVES ARE ANTISEMITIC. A Jew is spiritual of heart inwardly and not in the flesh outwardly. So a Jew is never born or dies but the tribal people of Judah, Levi, Benjamin, etc. led by their blind guides, the “sinners” died. Such sinners were killed by the tribal English and Germans in the Holocaust. Today, Matt 13v24-30 is getting fulfilled and the sons of Satan Al-Djmar Al-Aksa are being bundled up in Israel for the Final Burning. The Palestinians also cannot build their covenant with Abraham and so, the Tares will burn and kill each other. This planet Earth is for the habitation of 144000 tribal sons and not Jews, Hindus, Sikhs or Muslims. Watch my over 8700 YouTube Videos; channel One God One Faith. Atomic war is very near indeed. END TIME GOSPEL TRUTH – FREE LECTURES AND SEMINARS www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/GistEndGospel.htm Other:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Nobility.htm http://www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/tenlights.htm http://www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/JattIslam.htm PROOFS OF THE VIRGIN BIRTH OF JESUS: - www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/bojes.htm Super Hitler tribal Putin will destroy Blasphemer USA and the West as the German Hitler killed the unfaithful to Abraham and Yahweh sinner Jews outwardly. https://youtu.be/FQ9TyEEZcDQ There were no WMD in Iraq and these Blasphemer USA and Western nations destroyed his peaceful country. These evil-spirited Blasphemers against the Holy Spirit destroyed many more countries like Libya and they are not forgivable as the sinners are. Super Hitler Putin will punish the Blasphemer USA and the West. The tribal people of Salt are of God whilst Mammon and Media are of Satan. https://youtu.be/NIB8q3YiQZs The Udege tribal Son of Man Super Hitler Putin speaks the truth versus the great blasphemers of the USA and the West. Blasphemy against the Holy Spirit is not forgivable and Putin will punish them very hard. https://youtu.be/WCjpz-_w0y0 Thus, everyone is to give his own account to God and you cannot blame anyone else than yourself for not waking up to the Golden Occasion of resurrection. Just ween off the Milk, and the Scriptures and go for the refreshing Meat of Jesus for your Daily Bread of Life. Then, put on your own Cross and enjoy the Blood of Christ by Preaching the Gospel from the Rooftops. This is America - Israel in Disguise:- Grim American Jewish Reaper waving sickle to kill more in Venezuela as they did in Iraq, Libya, Syria, Ukraine, etc. www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/GrimReaper.htm I attended the recent seminar on the Nicene creed that bound the people that Jesus had set FREE but it was rather in the name of the sacked Husbandmen of the Winepress, the Temple Priests, that coined the adultered moral laws to make money. Gen 17 on circumcision is a typical example. This is the tribal mark of Abraham to Isaac and his generation only and was not given to Ishmael or anyone else. But the Temple Priests gave it to the Gentiles and made them the sons of Isaac of the Semitic race. They circumcised the Negro and white Aryans to increase their number of the Disciples for income. Angel Stephen was baptising the repenting sensible Jewish people of the Semitic race in the name of Abraham or disclosing their malpractice. He was summoned to the Synhedrion where he stressed that our forefather Abraham was a Nobleman. Do not make fake sons of Isaac and Abraham through the tribal mark of circumcision. That made them grind their teeth and they took him out and stoned him to death. Also, when these satanic Jews outwardly entered the fold of Hazrat Mohammed Sahib, they introduced all the Temple practices such as Kosher = Halal, circumcision, Elohim has no son, etc. Under Moses, all of them were the real sons of Abraham of the Semitic race and after making them repent for 40 years in the wilderness, they all became the faithful sons of Abraham and Abraham welcomed them back with lush green fields or killed the fattened calves to welcome the lost younger son Isaac, the Parable of the Prodigal son Isaac, elder son Ishmael and Father Abraham. So, when they entered the Jericho on t Any help:- YouTube removes my Bitter Videos and give me a strike. My ebook by Kindle. ASIN: B01AVLC9WO Private Bitter Gospel Truth videos:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/nobility.htm www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Rest.htm Any helper to finish my Books:- ONE GOD ONE FAITH:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/bookfin.pdf and in Punjabi KAKHH OHLAE LAKHH:-  www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/pdbook.pdf Very informative Channel:- Punjab Siyan. John's baptism:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/johnsig.pdf Trinity:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/trinity.pdf
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ajw720 · 4 years
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Let’s Talk about the Book Again, Shall We? I was inspired by the excerpt of sequel!
This post is about the character, who I don’t think is M, though in later books, who know (she seems to perhaps have a turn in A T/ale of W/itchraft?), but I think she less desirable traits are absolutely modeled after M.  Some of my fav quotes under read more.  C I love you, I laughed at loud at some of these lines.
Lucy Goosey or as she pronounces it, “Goo-say” which we would know if we had any “class.”  Just reminds me so much of D pronouncing PBB’s last name which is not how it looks:)
C’s introduction of Lucy Goo-say:
“The girl wore a black bowler hat, an oversize black jumpsuit, big black boots, and a bottlecap necklace.  She carried a small suitcase made from a taxidermy porcupine, and a canteen made from a beaver skull was draped over her shoulder.
On describing her perception of her talents:
“We are not just a family, we’re the Goose Troupe! You can’t have a band without its star tambourine player.”
And:
“and exceptional talent... don’t forget exception talent.”
And 
“And I have thousands of adoring fans.”
Our Lucy hates performing in the Southern Kingdom, due to the restrictions, described as follows, which are admittedly horrible but makes me think of things that would be of concern to our fake Mrs.:
“They’ve got all these rules about what artists are allowed to do.  We can’t sing profanity, we can’t play loudly, we can’d dance crudely, everyone has to be clothed- it takes all the fun out of it! I can’t even bang my tambourine on my hip without being fined!”
On describing Ms. Goo-say’s bedroom:
“As she stepped inside, Brystal had to remind herself she was stepping into a thirteen year old girl’s bedroom, because Lucy’s chamber looked like a tavern.” Huh, tavern, Swiller’s favorite type of place.
And my Favorite line perhaps in the entire book as it describes PBB, I mean L/ucy, so well and is a sign in her bedroom (this line wakes me want to kiss C it is so fabulous):
“PLAY HARD, WORK HARDLY.”
And upon meeting a troll, Lucy  describes herself as a “celebrity” and declares:
“I’m Lucy Goose, of the world renowned Goose Troupe. I’m sure you have been to one of my shows.  Me and my family have performed for trolls and goblins all over the In-Between.  We’re kind of a big deal around here.”
The Troll replies:
“oh yes, I remember you.  You’re the fat girl who hit the obnoxious box of chimes until I had a splitting headache.”
Remind anyone of a member of an internationally renowned touring band?
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migleefulmoments · 4 years
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The Book Club: My Analysis
 I just posted a long look at the ATOM analysis but I couldn't comment on their posts because it would have been too confusing.  Here is where I will make comments to their analysis.  As always my comments in parenthesis and italicized.
In this first post, notice that Abby isn’t looking for big themes and symbols-although she did catch the big ones- instead she is picking out single words and short phrases and drawing analogies to Darren. This is the literature version of cutting up an already short video into 1-2 seconds, slowing it down for drama and making it a gif. It’s how you distort the truth. 
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December 26, 2019 by this is a submission to ajw (X)
Submission from a friend (I posted my brief thoughts at the end). Major spoilers below. Scroll past if you haven’t read and don’t want to know.
First off, just in the note to the readers, I knew this book was going to be full of some good stuff.
Obviously, all interpretations are my own, after my first read through.
“A tale of magic follows a group of young fairies as they fight for acceptance in an oppressive world where magic is outlawed and despised. This story is very close to my heart, and writing it was the most challenging and emotional process I’ve experienced as an author to date. …… I hope it encourages and comforts anyone who may be fighting their own battle for acceptance and equality.”
Fairies= anyone feeling different or told they can’t be who they are, perhaps including the LGBT community? Hmm.. Close to his heart? What closer to his heart than the reality he’s living?  (Yes, it is definitely the LGBTQ community. If you couldn’t tell from reading the story Chris says “For me, the magic in A Tale of Magic is an allegory for being gay.” and faires are the people who have magical abilities. This is a story he calls “close to my heart”  because he is a gay man who grew up in a town that is now represented by Devin “the dunce” Nunes- so super fake-religious, judgemental and intolerant. He’s been getting mail from gay kids for a decade and he wrote a story to tell his truth and Abby is turning it into a story about Darren and the reality she has created for Chris to be living)
“If we want to change the world’s opinion it must be encouraged, not forced– and nothing encourages people like a good spectacle.”
Hmm… a spectacle? Sounds familiar. You can’t force anyone to believe anything, but it can be encouraged by opening your eyes to a good spectacle, like say a wedding, and realizing that it just doesn’t make sense if you open your eyes. Nuff said. (Except in this case Mrs. Weatherberry is saying they need to encourage people to accept magic not force them to and a good spectacle is the best way to encourage change. For this to be a reference to the wedding, Chris would have to be happy about the wedding). 
One of the books that Brystal comes across is by Daisy Peppernickel. I think that speaks for itself. It’s clearly known that Daisy is a certain someone’s nickname, especially used by the part of his fans that believe in Daisy. (This is stupid. It’s a silly, British-sounding name- not a reference to Darren. I can’t imagine a Chris celebrating the fandom’s fetishization of Darren’s efferent movements by labeling it “Daisy”) 
“.. each author’s cause of death was EXECUTED FOR CONSPIRACY AGAINS THE KINGDOM. … It was a graveyard for truth and an archive of people the Justices had silenced.”
Deleted tweets, accounts vanishing into thin air. This sounds a lot like the conspiracies against (str8) fandom. It’s no secret that people have been silenced. (yes, deleted tweets, accounts vanishing in thin air (what?) are exactly conspiracy against the fandom.  Both Chris and Darren are super worried about a handful of fans in the Str8 fandom.  You guys MATTER so much Chris included you in his book. He loves you, dudes).  
“All the books in the secret room were written by people who felt and thought exactly like she did, by people who questioned information, who criticized social restrictions, who challenged the systems set in place, and who weren’t afraid to make their ideas known.”
Questioning information? Challenging the system? Not afraid to make their ideas known? Can’t think of anybody that might do that. (It’s almost like Chris was talking about all the brave people who push back against society’s unfair treatment of the disenfranchised and minority persons who are discriminated against whether that is because of their race, nationality, gender, age or income. I know for a FACT he was NOT talking about the cc fandom. who do not do these things for the better good of society but rather for their own needs. Chris was honoring people like Mrs. Weatherberry and MLK, Rosa Parks, Harvey Milk,, people who push boundaries to make positive changes for the good of all people. What you all do is petty and based not on genuine inconsistencies in the system but rather your own refusal to accept that you are wrong and have always been wrong.)  
“Personally, I think life is way to complicated for anyone’s life to be set in stone.”
Even though D seems to be in a death sentence, there’s way more to life and his fate is not set in stone. C believes in his man, and knows he can overcome this. (Um what?)
“Sometimes as  a survival method, fairies suppress their magic so deep within themselves that it becomes extremely difficult to reach it.”
This reminds me of D’s dudebro persona that he brings out. He’s suppressing himself so far that at times he’ll turn himself into a different caricature of himself. We all know Daisy is in there somewhere under the layers of D-bag. (LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL. You mean when Darren is acting exactly like Darren?  People are like onions, they have layers. Dude bro is one of Darren’s layers. Not understanding that Darren is who Darren proves that you aren’t are the one who isn’t actually paying attention. It’s so obvious )  
“It’s very hard watching someone you love in so much pain.”
C watching the person he loves get knocked down over and over, he’s speaking directly from his own experience here. (How do you know this? Chris has never once suggested he finds life difficult right now or that he is in pain.  It’s almost like you made it up)  
“Horence had the misfortune of falling in love with a witch. … Naturally, such a relationship was forbidden, so for over a decade, Horence and the witch carried on a secret affair. When Horence’s soldiers discovered the relationship, the men betrayed their commander. They burned Horence at the stake and forced the witch to watch it happen.”
Using LGBT to equal ‘magical’ (As I’ve found countless references I haven’t even put in here) D fell in love with someone magical (gay), and their relationship was forbidden and secret. Once their secret was out, the team made D pay for it and C had to watch it all go down with nothing that he could do. (Except throw all his angst into his books ;) ) (Good job Abby- you got the most obvious allegory. The one that Chris acknowledged  “For me, the magic in A Tale of Magic is an allegory for being gay.” The rest of your nonsense is silly- the secret isn’t out and nobody except Abby has ever suggested anyone is making Darren or Chris pay anything).   
“We must pity the people who close to hate, Brystal. Their lives will never be as meaningful as those of the people who choose to love.”
The pathetic souls that do nothing but hate on C C and spread hate will never have as meaningful of life as those that chose to love and support our boys. (Um...I guess you don’t believe in coincidences but you believe in Karma. That doesn’t make a lot of sense. I am 100% positive that karma will get the people who don’t support cc. Both Chris and Darren have both denied a relationship and neither has ever suggested any of it is true). 
“We all know how terrible keeping a secret can feel. Secrets are like parasites, the longer you keep them inside you, the more damage they cause.”
The longer D is force to stay closeted, the more damage it does to him.
“If we had had everything we wanted then, we might never have found what we needed now.”
This to me feels like C is actually a little bit thankful for the bumps in the road. He’s trying to look on the bright side. If things had always been easy for them, they might have taken it for granted. Everything they’ve been through has only made them stronger. If they can get through all of this shit alive, they can make it through absolutely anything. (What twisted mind writes crisscolfer so that Darren’s life is a living hell with literally nobody to trust or on his side except his one true love and his mommy and daddy but also Chris is happy to have been put through the “bumps” in the road? ) 
“She dreamed the fairy was repeatedly knocked to the ground by a ferocious monster in a fur coat and snowflake crown.”
The ferocious monster in a fur coat? Makes me think of another monster that wears a fur coat. Shade. (Chris is a vindictive dick when he writes?)
“You can stop pretending, Brystal. I know you’re aware of much more than you’re letting on.”
C knows that we know. He’s not living under a rock. (yes, this is exactly the kind of sentence anyone would add to make sure your fandom knows that you are on to them.  I agree- Chris is sending you messages of support because though all of this, he’s worried about you). 
“I don’t know about you guys, but I refuse to sit back and let a frosty old witch take Madame Weatherberry away from us.”
Frosty old witch= Obviously M (wait I thought Mia was the monster in a fur coat and crown? She can’t be all the villians) 
“Do you guys know what your love languages are? Mine is quality time. It used to be physical touch, but that wasn’t working very well, so I had to change it. People are so picky about personal space and–”
C cherishes any quality time that he gets to have with D, since it’s not always available. (I can’t.... the 5 love languages are specific and about how you communicate with other people. You don’t pick a love language based on what is going on in your life.) 
“Sometimes good people do bad things for the right reasons.”
I have this bookmarked, along with some other passages about the Snow Queen / Mrs. Weatherberry. I know that there’s /some/ significance around this, but I haven’t fully figured out exactly what all it symbolizes. I have a few ideas, but nothing really seems to line up completely to me. I’d love to hear your thoughts on it at some point! (The significance is that Brystal has to made a tough decision to do something that at first glance is reprehensible but is much more complicated than that. Sometimes- like in war- people do bad things for the right reason)  
I think those are the big things that I’ve bookmarked. There’s so much more I could talk about, but I’m afraid it would start to not make any sense if I just started rambling, so I decided to go off of passages from the book and my thoughts on why I think they’re significant or tie into C C.
You can feel free to just keep this for yourself, or post it at a later date, or take pieces parts to post. Whatever you want!
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ajw adds:  know I’ve been really bad about posting on the book. I saved this submission because I thought it was brilliant and a lot of great insights.
My opinion on the Madame W/Horence/Ice Queen? C is Madame W/Ice Queen and D is Horence. I too thought frosty old queen at first referred to m. But once the twist was revealed I’m convinced it’s c and his dual personality like the twins. He is a Gemini as he likes to remind us. It’s his struggle between being happy with the love he was blessed with and his desire to destroy for the people that have so gravely hurt them.
The quote above to think about most.
Sometimes good people do bad things for the right reasons
That’s him talking about their Pr life and I’d guess directly addressing the fraud in NOLA. He’s believed in d and he wants us to believe in him too.  (No, it is just a plot point in a story about “good and bad” written for kids) 
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Title: The Confession {5}**
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Chris Evans x Best Friend Reader
Warning: Cursing, Angst, PLENTY OF WORDS, Moderate NSFW, Moderate SMUT, DO NOT READ AT WORK
Words: 6.3k
Summary: Not this time.
Note: Thank you for reading lovelies! 😘😘
Thank you guys so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.  ❤️❤️
***Loosely Edited/Proofread***
***Mildly Interactive***
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 
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-Chris-
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  “You did what!”
 Scott gaped at him as he sat on the couch in the backyard.
 “You’re shitting me. You did not,” Scott continued. His shock was evident. He looked at him as if he’d said something even more surprising. Scott gulped down his beer and slammed it to the wood top of the table between them. Then he slid to the edge of the seat to gape at him some more.
 “My God, stop it already!”
 “Excuse me for being astounded that you actually told her.”
 Crinkling his nose, he looked at Scott with his brow raised. “Actually told her? what does that mean?”
“Oh come on. Did you think I didn’t know that you’ve been in love with her for most of your life? Come on, Chris,” Scott finished fanning him off before he walked to the cooler to retrieve another beer.
 “Wait, wait, hold the fuck up. you knew?”
 “Yes, I knew. I knew, mom knew, Carly, Shanna—brother, this has been the worst kept secret.”
 He groaned and dropped his head back, staring into the blue sky. It was a beautiful day. He heard Scott’s “humph” and looked to see him holding out a beer for him.
 “Thanks,” he said as he took it, opened it, and drank half down.
 “Wow. Why didn’t anyone say anything?”
 “We all thought you would get it together eventually. We thought you’d both have this “duh” moment, and that would be it,” Scott explained.
 He couldn’t believe his ears. His entire family knew how he felt; all these years, they knew and never let on. He could have laughed, but he was too on edge after everything. It had been two weeks since your talk, two weeks since he sat in your living room and told you everything—well, mostly everything. One week and you hadn’t called, stopped by, or texted. Nothing.
 “I don’t know if I should have told her. I think I fucked up—bad.”
 Scoot took a deep breath and sighed out before he took another swig of beer. When he lowered it, he didn’t speak. That made his panic and fears increase.
 “What if I’ve ruined everything?” He grabbed his head and scraped his scalp.
 “Why the hell did you wait so long?”
 Springing to his feet, he paced around the couch. “I was scared. Have you seen the guys she’s dated? Jesus Christ, business tycoons that have billions of dollars and corporations, athletes that are built like no one’s business. All these guys are just—not me.” Voicing one of his fears felt more difficult than any of the stunts he’d done in his career. This was something he’d thought about for years, and it always gave him anxiety and stress.
 “Are you serious right now?” Scott scoffed and shook his head. “You’re a world-famous movie star. You’re Captain fucking America! Even then, you know none of that matters to her. It never has. What’s the real reason.”
 Dropping back into the couch with a loud groan, he finished his beer in one raise. Sitting with the words in his head, he was reluctant to voice them. If he said them out loud, then they’d be facts, irrefutable facts.
 “Spit it out!”
 “She deserves better,” he blurted out before he brought his face to his palms and continued. “She’s seen everything Scott, all my--.”
 “Whoring ways?” He could hear the amusement in Scott’s voice.
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“Not funny.” His voice was impassive.
 “It is—from the outside looking in, hilarious.”
 He sprang to his feet again and paced back and forth. “She’s seen the women. She knows how I’ve treated them. She knows my Dorian Grey, and you know my Dorian Grey is seriously ugly.” As he spoke, every dirty thing he’d done over the years flashed through his head, the women, the experiences, the cheating, everything.
 “Ah, I see. You’re afraid she knows too much and knows you too well to see you any other way than a complete male gigolo out for sex.”
 Turning around to give Scott another warning look, he rolled his eyes. “You’re still not funny.”
Scott chuckled and leaned back. “I totally am.”
 “She deserves the world, Scott,” he began rubbing the back of his neck as he sat at the edge of the couch. “I’m sure I fall short,” he finished in a crestfallen tone. There it was.
 A few moments of silence passed before Scott spoke again. “Wow. Wait, you’re being serious? You really think this?” When he didn’t answer, Scott continued. “Chris, we want the person we end up with to know everything about us. We want them to understand we’re not perfect, that we’re human and want to be better with them, for them.”
 When he didn’t look up, he heard Scott’s footsteps before he dropped on the couch beside him. “Listen to me. You want her to have seen your ugly so she can weigh it with your good. Look, I’m your brother, and yeah, your ugly is ugly, but you’re a good guy. Shit, you’re the best man I know, next to dad. Y/N has seen it since we were kids.”
 He knew he should have known this, but when it came to you, it was a different case.
 “I was always afraid to hurt her. I was scared I’d fuck it up somehow, and because of it, fuck us up,” he confessed.
 “So you just kept quiet about it. I’ve always known you were in love with her. I just knew one day it would come out naturally, and the two of you would fall together like natural clockwork. You weren’t supposed to wait until she had a fiancé, you jackass!”
 Groaning again, he nodded. “I know, fuck, I know.”
 “What were you expecting?”
 What was he expecting? He’d asked himself this question since that ill-fated night he texted you the words. He hadn’t come up with an adequate response.
 “I don’t know. I was drunk when I did it, drunk and wallowing,” he began. He thought back to the night in your living room then straightened up. “When I looked in her eyes as I said it, Scott, there was something there. I saw it.”
 “What’d you see?”
 The words teased his tongue as they’d teased his mind the entire week. He hadn’t said them out loud because what if he was wrong. The more he thought back to the look in your eyes, the more he knew that he couldn’t have been wrong.
 “She has to love me too. Right?” Looking at Scott for confirmation, he was met with an unsure look.
 “Let’s say she did. What do you expect to happen?”
 Crinkling his nose again, he gave Scott a crazy look. “What? Obviously, call off the wedding so we can be together for real,” he plainly declared.
 “Have you thought that through? What if right now, with the idea of her being married off to someone not you is playing with you, making you feel like you want this relationship? What if this is the draw of what you can’t have?” He’d thought about this long ago but dismissed it before it came up again. He didn’t feel like that was it.
 “I’m not like that,” he professed.
 “How do you know? This is the first time you’re in this situation,” Scott countered.
 “Scott. It’s Y/N.” That was all he felt he had to say.
 “Exactly. I know another reason why you held on to this for so long was because you were afraid of this. You were afraid that once you got what you thought you wanted, you wouldn’t want it anymore, and then it would have been too late. How do you know?”
 Bringing himself back to the night it all became clear for him he clued Scott in. “I was sitting there thinking about her, and I knew Scott. I knew.”
 Scott nodded and took his words in.
 “Okay.”
 “I don’t want her because I can’t have her now. It’s not because I’m scared of losing her to someone else. I’m not nearly as self-centered and narcissistic enough for that. I want her because—because I love her,” he responded with certitude. He felt this in his bones.
 “Okay.”
 “We used to talk every day, several times a day, all day even. I haven’t spoken to her since that night at her place. She won’t answer my calls or messages.” It hurt to say. It hurt a hell of a lot more than he ever imagined it would. It felt like rejection, a rejection he had no experience with that was made worse because it was you.
 “She needs time, Chris. You just dropped the mother of all bombs on her for crying out loud. It’s not just any bomb; it’s an atomic bomb that complicates her life. She has a fiancé. She planned a wedding, one that is happening in six weeks,” Scott reasoned.
 He knew all of this, and he’d even tried to drill it into his own head, but it never stuck.
 “Give her some time to get her thoughts and feelings in order,” Scott finished.
 He looked down at his entwined fingers and sighed. “I feel like I’m losing my shit just waiting around. I feel like I’m waiting on a judge to decide the rest of my life,” he spoke. The silence stretched between them, and his anxiety reached its peak.
  “I don’t know what I’ll do if I fucked everything up, Scott.”
~~~~~~~~~
-Y/N-
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 “I love you, Y/N. I love everything about you.”
 Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.
 “I love how you are my family.”
 Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.
 “You’re my home, always have been. I’m in love with you.”
 Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.
 “The sight of you together kills me.”
 Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.
 “I want you, Y/N. I always have. That hasn’t changed since we were sixteen, and it will never change. I love you.”
 Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.
 “I can’t lose you.”
 Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.
 “I love you, Y/N.”
 Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump.
 “Y/N!”
 The scent of roses, lilies, and cedar filled your nostrils and bringing with it your current reality. You took a deep breath, but one wasn’t enough. You took several more. It had been a hard week. You should have still been floating on could nine, and part of you was, but it was an exceedingly small part. The rest of you was in suspended animation tangled with stress, anxiety, and confusion. When you got like that, the only thing that seemed to help was work.
 However, no matter how much work you did, you didn’t forget. You didn’t forget the words he said to you, didn’t forget the look in his eyes as he crowded you in the kitchen. Didn’t forget the way his fingers on you felt exponentially different than they had before. You couldn’t forget how your skin tingled, or how you didn’t move right away. When you got there, you blamed it on shock and nothing else.
 “Y/N. Do you need help?”
 Pressing your forehead on the cold glass, you took your final breathes and plastered a smile on your face before you walked out of the dressing room. As soon as you did, everyone gasped and fawned all over you. After stepping onto the pedestal, you looked at your reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror and nearly toppled over. You wore the wedding dress you’d picked out two months ago that was now half altered. The A-line ballgown was massive but gorgeous. You loved how it made you look as if you had no waist and plenty of hips, and not to mention the bustline did wonders for your breasts.
“My god, Y/N, you look incredible,” your mother sighed out as she clasped your hand. You could see the unshed tears in her eyes. She’d dreamed of this day probably since the day you were born. Every mother plans her daughter’s wedding in her head the moment she takes her first steps. She’d been with you through this entire process lending you strength and guidance.
 “Thank you, mama.” You looked at yourself again and took another deep breath to let it out in a rush.
 “Don’t like it anymore?” The question belonged to Jaxon’s mother, Anita. Smiling, you looked at her.
 “No, I still like it.”
 “Jaxon said when he came in the other day, he was tempted to look at it before he paid for it,” Anita informed.
 Turning to her fully, you cocked your head to the right. “I’m sorry, what?”
 “Calm down, Y/N. He didn’t look. The superstition is intact,” Anita remarked.
 “No, no. Not about him seeing it. He did what?”
 Anita stopped smiling and gave you a confused look before she continued. “He paid for it,” she said matter of factly like it was no big deal. The bubble of anger you felt raise within you rose so quickly smoke nearly shot through your ears.
 “What’s the problem? My son makes a lot of money. He has influence and the means to do what he pleases. You know that is one of the reasons you agreed to this—expedited wedding,” Anita slid in.
 “Excuse me?” You took a step forward, forgetting you were on a pedestal.”
 “Y/N,” your mother cautioned making you stop in your tracks and bite back the insult you were going to return back to her.
 “Jaxon has assured me it’s not because you’re pregnant, so it leaves this. No?”
 You had the sudden image of leaping off the pedestal right on top of her and wrapping your hands around her neck.
 “Anita,” your mother began stepping toward her. “I know we don’t know each other well, but you will soon come to realize that I go to bat for my baby with anyone who dares disrespect her. Listen here, your son asked her to marry him, not the other way around. You’ll do well to remember that when you speak to her and remember that it’s a good thing when a man finds a wife—that is if they don’t cheat and find another younger one.”
 Your jaw dropped. She took - it - there. Your mother didn’t shrink back or cower; she held her head high and puffed out her chest. You pressed your lips together, pleased at the reminder that you were her daughter. Anita had a high and mighty look on her face before she slinked away to the seats. Once there, she sat.
 “Let’s also remember that love is why we’re all here, Jaxon’s and Y/N’s for each other,” your mother finished. When Anita didn’t speak again, your mother turned back to you and gave you a nod.
 “Let’s carry on.”
 Soon after, your sister Sharice arrived with your niece Adella along with your aunts Florence and SherryAnne. Once they arrived, the tone of the parlor drastically changed. They laughed, joked and chatted as if they didn’t care where they were. You didn’t mind; it distracted you. For the remainder of the appointment, the seamstress worked her magic pinning, measuring, and altering according to your specifications. You always had a glass of champagne in one hand and your phone in the other. Just because the majority of the day was dedicated to this didn’t mean you wouldn’t work.
 Halfway through, Anita made an excuse to leave. Before she left, she pulled you in to a hug and kiss while making you promise to make it to the mayor’s mansion for dinner one night during the week. Reluctantly you agreed, and she pranced out of the parlor as if she hadn’t disrespected you in a significant way.
 Once she’d left, you dropped onto the couch with all the flounce of the dress around you.
 “Ignore her. She’s just mad her precious only son puts you above her. She’s jealous,” Sharice said.
 “Jealous or not she should get the fuck over it. she purposely told me about Jaxon buying the dress. He’s told her about how I act about him doing things like this.”
 You were angry and had every intention of ripping him a new asshole for doing what he did plus telling his mother something that was between the two of you.
 “Your man is well off, enjoy it. You’re going to be married, what’s his will be yours,” your aunt SherryAnne explained.
 “I understand that Aunt Sherry, I get it. That does not mean he can throw his money at me. I’ve worked hard for everything I have, and yeah, I don’t have millions or a mother who is a Mayor that comes with connections and pomp, but I sure as hell have my own. We talked about the dress. I said I was going to pay for it. He undermined me and did it behind my back. He didn’t even tell me,” you ranted.
 “Maybe he doesn’t know how serious you are about it,” your mother hypothesized.
 Rolling your eyes, you knocked back the remainder of the champagne and held out your hands, a silent plea for them to help you up. As they did, you all giggled.
 “Are you sure you want this dress?”
 “Yes. Don’t worry; I’ve already eyed the reception dress,” you announced as you walked back to the dressing room to change back into your clothes.
 Ten minutes later, you reemerged dressed and ready to go. The group of you walked out to the sidewalk and said your goodbyes. When they all walked away, your mother turned to you and studied your face before she gently caressed your cheek.
 “Are you alright, baby girl?”
 Sighing you thought if you should unburden yourself, but the second you thought to, you decided against it. What was the purpose?
 “Yeah, I’m fine, just tired.”
 She nodded and pulled you in for a hug. “Maybe go hang out with Chris for a few hours. He always works magic with ironing you out.”
 The sound of his name filled you with so many conflicting emotions that you knew he was the last person you needed to see. When she pulled back, she kissed your forehead and tapped your cheek before she walked to her car. Waving goodbye, you watched her car drive off. Checking your watch, you saw you had fifteen minutes to meet Jaxon at the market as you’d promised. After the events at the parlor, that was the last thing you wanted to do. Part of you didn’t trust yourself well enough not to blow up at him in the middle of the produce department. Resigning yourself to your fate, you hailed a taxi and got on your way.
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Thanks to traffic, by the time you got to Whole Foods, you were running a little late. As you got out of the taxi, you saw Jaxon standing outside talking on your phone. You took a deep breath and approached him. When he saw you coming, his smile widened as he held his hand out for you. Deciding against taking it, you held onto your purse with the hand he reached for instead. Not picking up your cue, he leaned in to kiss you, but you turned your cheek and continued walking into the store.
 Jaxon tried to wrap up his conversation, but after a few minutes, you could tell he was being roped into an even longer dialogue. Pushing the cart through the aisles, you placed items in while he trailed behind you. When he put his hand on your hip, you pushed forward, breaking the contact. Every time he tried to stop you from moving, you didn’t allow it.
 After almost ten minutes of this, Jaxon abruptly ended his call. “Okay I’m done, they’re gone. It’s just you now. Tell me how was the dress fitting,” he began wrapping his arms around you, making you face him.
 “Call them back. I’m fine. I don’t need your attention,” you said, pulling from him and walking ahead.
 “You don’t—what?” His hurried footsteps echoed behind you before he was pulling you back to him.
 “What’s wrong?”
 “Nothing,” you lied.
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“Bullshit. I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s wrong. What did I do?”
 “Interesting you know you did something,” you slid in before walking away again.
 “Come on, Y/N, don’t play games. If I fucked up tell me what I did so I can make it right.”
 “How? By throwing your money around some more?”
 The way he looked at you said he knew what this was about. When he opened his mouth to no doubt explain it away and brush it under the rug, you walked away yet again. Turning down another aisle, you looked at the products as you passed them, trying to remember just what you had on your list. When you got halfway down the aisle, Jaxon fell into step with you.
 “Let me explain,” he began before you cut him off.
 “Explain how you undermined me and went behind my back to do something you knew I wouldn’t want? Explain that?” The impatient look on your face only grew to one of annoyance.
 “Baby, it wasn’t like that.”
 “This is not the place to talk about this. Let’s just get this over with and get out of here,” you suggested while putting products into the cart.
 Before Jaxon could speak again, you heard a familiar voice call your name. Your back stiffened.
 “Chris, my man,” Jaxon began.
 “How you doing?”
 “Good, me and the soon to be Mrs just getting some groceries for dinner,” Jaxon informed. Slowly you turned to face him. He wore a low tipped baseball hat, his signature incognito look. It was stupid. You’d told him before that it was his beard that got him recognized.
 “Hey, DeeDee,” Chris said. You nearly snorted out loud hearing your nickname.
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“Hi.” Again it was barely above a whisper.
 “How are you?”
 “Great--I mean good--fine,” you stuttered.
 Silence fell between the three of you, an awkward silence.
 “So come over for dinner tonight, Chris,” Jaxon petitioned. Your head snapped to him, confused how he’d deduced that you being angry at him meant to invite a third party to dinner so you couldn’t talk. The man was nuts.
 “Uh—are you sure? I don’t want to impose,” Chris began before Jaxon cut him off.
 “Nah, no imposition, right babe. Any best friend of my other half is a best friend of mine. Plus, I’m sure you guys would love the time together. I know the planning of the wedding is keeping this one busy, so yeah, we’re sure,” Jaxon monologued.
 Another thing you hated was him talking for you. He’d toned it down over the months, but every now and then, it would spark up. Chris was looking at you as if he was waiting for your final word. He knew how you hated being spoken for. While you wanted to tell him that tonight wasn’t the night the puppy dog look in his eyes broke your heart. Sighing, you nodded.
 “Come to dinner. You gotta eat right.”
 “Okay. Dinner. Your place?”
 “No, we’re at mine tonight,” Jaxon corrected. “Don’t worry, in a few weeks we’ll have it together in the new house,” Jaxon finished.
 “Uh, we should go if there is any hope of actually having dinner ready,” you voiced, turning away from both men and walking away toward the checkout. This was going to be a long night, you thought to yourself.
 When you got back to Jaxon’s place, the argument that was had went on for nearly an hour. It was really one-sided. He listened to your gripes, apologized, and promised to check himself when he felt the urge to spoil you. The way he didn’t even put up a fight made you feel like he wasn’t listening to what you said or considering it in a real way. He said all the right things, but he’d done that before only to flip and do the offense again.
 You went your way to the bedroom, and he went his to the kitchen, and that was where you remained for the next forty or so minutes. You needed the time to cool down. You knew you’d grown up differently and knew you two had different ideas of gender roles, but you didn’t think it was a major discrepancy or too much that you couldn’t work through it. This recent move had you wondering if maybe it was something that couldn’t be worked on.
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As you stared at yourself in the walk-in closet, you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose. You could feel your migraine and wanted to do nothing but sink into a hot bath with a cup of lavender tea. One man was giving you a headache from his lack of care about what mattered to you and the other from his overabundance of caring at the wrong time.
 You felt arms wrap around your midsection, which jarred your eyes open. For some reason, you expected to see Chris.
 “I’m sorry, really, really sorry. You can’t be mad at me anymore. I can’t take it. You know how I feel about leaving things unspoken and holding on to slights. Things like that can seriously hurt a relationship.”
 You knew he was reminiscing on his parents. Their fairytale marriage fell apart because of one too many unspoken things and slights that created caters between them that turned into separate bedrooms and his father’s affairs. Sighing, you dropped your head back onto his chest, allowing him to kiss your bare shoulder.
 “Forgive me?”
 You remained silent and just stared at him through the mirror. His hand moved from your belly to your pelvis, where he raked up your skirt.
 “What’re you doing?”
 “Sssh,” Jaxon softly lulled, continuing what he was doing until his fingers were softly scratching a path on your inner thigh in an upward motion. “Let me make it up to you.”
 “How?”
 “By taking that migraine,” Jaxon answered before his fingers slid underneath the material of your underwear to rub against your sex. Groaning, you attempted to move, but he kept you where you were by pinching your clit. Sucking in a breath, you locked eyes with him.
 “Let me do all the work, darlin’.”
 Once the words were spoken, Jaxon wasted no time with teasing. He intently circled your clit in tight, quick motions. You leaned against him, sighing out, quickly getting used to how good it felt. Every few seconds, he changed the direction he swirled his finger and the speed of which he did it. After only a few minutes, you were close. With your eyes closed, your moans and pants echoed in the closet as Jaxon’s free hand held you tightly at your hip. You felt his finger leave you, which made your eyes flutter open to see him sucking it clean. In the same breath, Jaxon stepped before you then dropped to his knees.
 “I’m sorry,” he repeated before he lifted one of your legs and draped it over his shoulder and kissed your bud.
 You groaned and dropped your head back and focused on the pleasure he was giving. Once your eyes closed, the face you saw was not that of your fiancé, the man on his knees before you giving you pleasure. It was Chris’s. You saw him as if he stood right before you. He was watching you, his eyes boring into you, looking deeper into you than anyone had ever seen—just him. You gasped and held onto Jaxon’s head feeling your orgasm get closer and closer. Still, Chris in your mind, stared. It was as if he was taunting you, silently asking if this was what you wanted if Jaxon was doing it for you.
 Feeling the pressure of Jaxon’s suck increase, you whimpered and began bucking your hips riding his face. The slurps echoed in the closet, and Chris’s stare intensified. The blue in his eyes beckoned to you, spoke to you, told you that you were making a mistake and that you should stop pretending. When you felt your orgasm whip through you, you felt an urge stronger than any you’d ever felt before to scream his name—Chris’s name. Biting your tongue, you rode the wave until you shook, and your knees buckled. As you fell to the floor, Jaxon’s arms caught you.
 “I got you, sweetheart.”
 When you opened your eyes, you saw Chris’s face and not Jaxon’s, and that was what fueled your actions.
 “Make love to me,” you whined while trying to remove his pants.
 Jaxon didn’t protest, he obliged and quickly undid his pants to free himself from his undid zipper. When he slid into your slickened heat, neither of you went slowly. There was a time to take your time, and this wasn’t it. Jaxon moved your body with the strength he possesed and fucked you with frenzied thrusts. It was what you needed to unsee Chris's face, to push aside the unrecognizable desire you felt for your best friend. The desire wasn’t only for him, though.
 Feeling the power of Jaxon inside of you, you knew it was him you were making love to, you knew it was him your body was reacting to, but you also knew Chris was also causing some reaction. Planting your feet onto the floor, you sped your movements, not wanting the ability to think properly for the next however long. You’d worry about what this all meant later—much later.
  ~~~~~~
 -Chris-
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He hated it here. At your place, he saw pieces of your life with him, but here he saw the other pieces that put together the full picture. There were framed photos everywhere, along with boxes that Jaxon explained away, stating you were in the process of moving into your new house—together. It was a painful thought, one he tried to push to the back of his mind. This was the first time he’d been here. He was always able to get himself out of coming by, but tonight it seemed like his luck had run out.
 When they made it to Jaxon’s mancave, he saw accolades, accomplishments, pictures galore of all the influential people he knew, and even awards. It all presented like he was a good guy. It only made him want to hate Jaxon even more, but he hadn’t mistreated you in the time you’d been together. He couldn’t remember a time you came to him crying about something he’d done or how he’d hurt you. There was no representation of his bad character. He had no reason to hate him, none but one—you. This man had you.
 When he first walked in, he could smell him on you. You didn’t smell like your usual self, and that told him all he didn’t need to know. From then he had to pretend that the sound of his voice didn’t make him sick, that the pictures of how happy you were together didn’t boil his blood and the thought of you in his kitchen cooking for him night after night didn’t give him the strongest bout of jealousy he’d ever felt. He was an actor, but he doubted he was playing his part well tonight.
 “Dinner!”
 The two of them made their way back to the dining room to see you’d filled the table with the food.
 “Smells amazing, baby.” Jaxon wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek.
 “Let’s eat,” you rushed out, breaking contact with Jaxon to get to your seat, a seat he pulled out. He nearly vomited in his mouth.
 Dinner was awkward and painful. He expected it to be, but it was increasingly so. Jaxon kept a hand on you at all times; he could see his grip on your bare thigh through the glass dining table. As he spoke about everything under the sun, he noticed you looked distracted. Every now and then, your eyes met and lingered before you looked away with a guilty look in yours. He wondered what you were thinking, what you were feeling. Every time he tried to read your body language, it told him nothing, but you were tense. Was it the dinner, or was it something else besides what he’d told you?
 Like clockwork, every few minutes, Jaxon found a way to make even more contact with you than his hand placed on your thigh. He’d either lean into you to kiss your forehead or an exposed shoulder or even pull you in for a kiss. He could see the tension in you increase every time Jaxon attempted affection. All the while he sat there watching the two of you, he knew what he felt and why he felt it, but it didn’t make it any easier to handle. It broke him.  
 “So you know we’re moving, the move is happening in a little while. Can we count you in to help?”
 “Jax, god, we have the moving people for that,” you began.
 “Yeah, but you even said you didn’t want them moving everything. I’m talking about those things,” Jaxon clarified.
 “No, Chris is busy. He’s not here to be at our beck and call. He has a family to spend time with.”
 “I thought as your man of honor; he’d want to help out,” Jaxon continued.
 “Man of honor?”
 You slapped your forehead and closed your eyes.
 “You hadn’t told him? She didn’t tell you?”
 “Tell me what?” He looked at you and waited for you to explain.
 “I was—it’s nothing.”
 “No, it’s something. What?”
 You sighed and finished your glass of wine before continuing. “I was going to ask you to be my man of honor the next time you were in town. Then—things—yeah,” you trailed off.
 His heart sank. You wanted him to stand beside you over your sister or even all your friends.
 “It was stupid,” you continued.
 “You don’t want it anymore?”
 “What?”
 “Would you rather someone else do it?”
 Your eyes locked, and he was able to read you clearly for the first time in weeks.
 “No, I want you. Only you,” you whispered. It felt like you meant something else.
 “So whaddya say?” Jaxon’s voice broke the moment.
 “Uh, let me check some things, and I’ll get back to you,” he said, barely above a whisper as he avoided your eyes. This night had just gotten one hundred times worse.
 Once dinner was finished, Jaxon retreated to his office to take an urgent call, which left him to help you with the dishes. When he walked into the kitchen with the last of the dishes, you were finishing loading the dishwasher.
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“Dinner was great,” he professed.
 “Thanks, you whispered.
 He stood beside you in silence for a few moments. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he began.
 “Not avoiding. Busy.”
 He scoffed. “We’ve both been busy before and still managed to talk all day. You’ve been avoiding me. Why?”
 “Chris, I have a lot going on with work and this wedding.”
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“So cancel the wedding.”
 Your head snapped to him so fast he nearly laughed out loud.
 “What?!”
 “You heard me. Cancel the wedding,” he repeated.
 “Why the hell would I do that?
 “Because I love you and you love me.”
 You rolled your eyes and looked back to the dishes. “Of course, I love you. you’re my best friend.”
 “You’re in love with me,” he flat out said, not caring if anyone heard.
 “Chris. Stop. I love Jaxon. We’re getting married in six weeks.
 “Are you in love with him? You and I both know there is a difference. I don’t think you are,” he cockily said though he didn’t feel so confidant in his declaration.
 “Yes, I am,” you answered. Again, his heart sank.
 “And me?”
 You looked at him again, and he saw the conflict in your eyes. There should be no conflict where resolution resides, he thought before he took a step to you, closing the distance between you.
 “Y/N, come on,” he pleaded before you took a baby step back.
 “This is not the place or time. Jaxon is in the other room.”
 “I don’t care like at all. How do you feel, Y/N?”
 “Fuck, I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know what I feel,” you blurted out in an urgent fiery whisper.
 “Yes, you do. Okay yeah, it was a shock, but that was two week ago. You know how you feel, how you’ve always felt I’m suspecting.”
 You rubbed your forehead and sighed out. “Jesus, okay. Let’s say I did know. What does it matter? I’m engaged to be married to a great guy.”
 “Why would you marry someone you don’t love in the right way? Why would you resign to live the rest of your life with someone you don’t profoundly desire on every single level? Why would you want that especially knowing there is a better choice, the one who loves you as fiercely as you love him?”
 He could have just pulled you to him, something said you wouldn’t have stopped him, but he didn’t know if he had that level of asshole in him—not right now.
 “I’m sorry about that,” Jaxon said as he walked into the kitchen, breaking the bubble, making you move away from him to approach Jaxon. Once at his side, he watched on as Jaxon kissed you. It hurt to see, especially when his hand gripped your hip in a possessive manner. While it hurt, it also showed him what he wanted. He knew, without a doubt, his reasons weren’t for anything other than you were the woman of his dreams.
 It was clear what he had to do now. He had to prove it to you. He had to up the ante and prove to you that he really felt what he felt. He also had the double task of showing you that you loved him as much as he loved you. He had to prove to you that he was the better choice for you, not Jaxon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. I’m sorry.
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denimbex1986 · 10 months
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'One of the many reasons Christopher Nolan’s filmography is revered in the industry is due to his well-known affinity for IMAX and 70-millimeter film. His most recent feature dominating the box office this summer, Oppenheimer, pushed those limits, maxing out what IMAX film platters can do in the extraordinary biopic. To discuss the magic behind the lens, Collider’s Steve Weintraub had the opportunity to speak with another creative genius and a frequent Nolan collaborator, Director of Photography Hoyte van Hoytema.
In order to capture the gravity of the “father of the atomic bomb,” J. Robert Oppeneheimer’s story, played by Cillian Murphy, Nolan recruited trusted cinematographer Hoytema to work alongside him. While talking with Collider, Hoytema digs into his passion for filming, walking us through the details of all things IMAX, the format that can provide the spectacle a screenplay like this deserves. On top of the technical equipment, Hoytema also tells us everyone, from the visual effects department to lighting to the star-studded cast, including Robert Downey Jr., Florence Pugh and Emily Blunt, worked as a unit to achieve Nolan’s vision.
In this one-on-one, Hoytema also reveals the thing he geeks out over—besides filming—and shares surprising insight into one of today’s greatest filmmakers, having previously worked with Nolan on Interstellar, Dunkirk and Tenet. We find out why, unlike directors like Ridley Scott, Nolan’s productions generally employ the use of one camera, what Hoytema would change about IMAX cameras if he could, the equipment that didn’t exist prior to Oppenheimer, and tons more...
COLLIDER: Because I'm at Comic-Con, I just want to start with, is there anything that you geek out over? Maybe it's cameras, I'm not sure, but is there something that you geek out about
HOYTE VAN HOYTEMA: You mean in general in life?
Yeah, is there anything you collect? What do you geek out over?
HOYTEMA: I geek out over my machine shop. I have a CNC machine, a lot of metalworking things. We build a lot of stuff here in the garage.
I love it. So you have done such incredible work over your career, but there are going to be people who have never seen anything. If someone has never seen anything you've done, what's the first thing you'd like them watching and why?
HOYTEMA: I think, obviously, it's always the last film, you know? The last film you’ve done, it's always sort of an accumulation of things you dropped and things you added, and you're constantly growing, you're constantly evolving. You're constantly becoming wiser/more stupid, more interesting/more stuck up. But I think you always like to show the people who you are at the moment. So, I kind of feel the last film is always the nicest one to watch.
What would surprise Christopher Nolan fans to learn about making a movie with Christopher Nolan?
HOYTEMA: What surprised me, and what was something that I had to learn from working with Chris, is that he is an extremely intuitive person as well. He's, of course, known for his mind-bending intelligence, and his films; they always feel extremely well put together and extremely well planned. But what is very beautiful with Chris is that he is somebody that is not afraid of following his heart, and reacting to intuitive impulses, as well. He's a very sensitive and very much a feeling person. It's in that way, I also feel, that helps him very much in communicating with actors. A lot of actors, they are also people that work extremely much on an intuition level.
Ultimately with a film, you're also sort of translating a feeling to the audience, and in that way, that was something that surprised me back then because it doesn't surprise me today, anymore. But, as people call him sometimes, “Oh, he's very technical,” I would definitely debate it. He is one of the most sensitive and most intuitive directors I work with.
One of the things I'm fascinated by are the various processes that people make movies. For example, Ridley Scott will shoot with six cameras or seven cameras, and Roger Deakins will shoot with just one, and that's it. I'm curious, how often are you just using one camera on set, and how often do you like to do coverage?
HOYTEMA: For most of the time, we work with one camera on set. Effectively shooting with Chris is like a one-camera show. The camera is sort of the magic box that everything that happens around has to be directed and evolving towards, getting sucked into that one little box. So that one camera really becomes an epicenter on our shoes. As soon as you put two cameras on the set, that attention gets somehow divided, and being with Chris on the set is [an] extremely focused group of people that really work towards a very specific goal.
Chris is also somebody that loves to sit very close to the camera in order to understand what the camera is seeing, so he's always very close by looking into the set next to the camera. He's not a material collector or a cleaning lady or a vacuum cleaner, you know? It's a very meticulous and very focused process. The actors know exactly towards where they're working, the production designers, the prop people, the set dressers, but also, us, lighting, et cetera. It all has to evolve towards that one direction, and so the one camera should just feel very logical to us. It's sort of a very ultimate way of filmmaking for us. It feels very focused.
You shot with IMAX film, and you also shot with a 65-millimeter. Can you talk about the conversations you guys had as to when it would be an IMAX shot versus not an IMAX shot?
HOYTEMA: As I said before, as a lot of it is very much pulled out, we also work a little bit with our intuition there. That intuition is also very much led by the idea that we just wanna shoot as much as possible on as rich as possible negative. So, we love shooting as much as possible on IMAX. And also, in this film, the more intimate the situation got, the more sort of up close and personal things got, the more we want to get in there with an IMAX camera.
Now, of course, the IMAX camera has a few technical limitations that make it very hard and very challenging. It's a very loud camera, and it’s also bulky, and it's big. You cannot be a fly on the wall, for instance, with it, so in some situations, as much as you want to, they sort of require you to rethink it a little bit. Sometimes we had to record dialogue, so we would shoot on the five per 70-millimeter camera, but we very often would add an extra shot or an extra take on an IMAX camera to see if Chris could probably salvage the sound of it and put it in a film. So ultimately, I would say it's a very intuitive choice, but driven by sort of the will to squeeze as much as possible in there.
Listen, I am so thankful for what you and Chris do with IMAX. It's my favorite format. There's nothing like sitting in a theater with that huge IMAX screen. What do you actually love and hate about IMAX cameras? Like if you could fix something, the big camera, or is it just the sound, how loud it is?
HOYTEMA: If we would be able to fix the sound in an IMAX camera, it would be fantastic. Now, it’s almost to solve that sound problem is like defying physics. It's not just asking, “IMAX, can you make this thing more quiet?” What you have to imagine, and if you just hold on one second—I'll just grab something so I can show you—we got some real fun things here, some film strips. Let's start with this one, right? I'm just gonna show this. This is 35-millimeter, right? This is 35-millimeter anamorphic, that size. So a camera, in order to get these 24 shots per second in, the cam has to drag 24 of those frames per second through a camera, correct? So now we go five per, which is a camera that is 70-millimeter, that does the same as a 35-millimeter camera. And why are these cameras so bulky and heavy? This is five per old fashioned, the 65-millimeter camera. So per second, 24 of these big frames have to be pulled through a little hole. Well, it gets a little louder, it gets a little bulkier. But if you look at IMAX, this is how your negative is exposed, and this is how the film strip looks. So, instead of going like this through the camera, it goes like this through the camera. And here you see every frame is a huge piece of exposed film, so 24 of those frames, you have to pull through the camera per second.
So you can imagine how much power and inertia and how big [of] motors you need in order to do that, and how aggressive your mechanism has to be to every time stop that frame on the dime. That's the reason that that camera is so loud and it's so bulky and it's so heavy. It's just physically, it's very heavy, and it's very difficult. So, there you have the problem. I would love it to be as silent as a nothing, but it's very challenging to get it there. But that's definitely some improvement I would work on. And the more quieter that camera becomes, the more situations we can start applying that camera to. So ultimately, quieter would be my wish. I don't care so much about making it smaller, making it more comfortable. We're all the time sort of adapting the ergonomics of that camera. In the end, it's a little box. It's a mini fridge that you have to put in a special place, with grips that have the sensitivity of ballerinas. And [with] a little bit of smart external engineering, you can get the camera wherever you need it to be. But I think those sounds, that’s something that would be really wonderful to do something with.
This is gonna sound crazy, and I'm obviously just brainstorming in the moment, but is it possible to actually make the camera bigger for certain situations and almost blanket the camera with soundproofing? So instead of going smaller, you're going larger, and you're minimizing all the sound coming out of it, and you're using it in specific shots where you don't have camera movement, or it's on a device that can move separately?
HOYTEMA: That's not crazy at all. I mean, that's exactly what we have built, a certain device — blimps, they're called. So we have blimps for the IMAX cameras—a coffin, as we sometimes say—but it's literally the device that fits like a glove, or like a sort of coffin, that fits like a glove around the camera and is made out of different soundproofing materials. And yes, you get it quieter, but by those kinds of experimentations, we already found out that, exponentially, you have to get so big just because the sound in relation is so loud. Also, what you have to think about, a lot of the sounds that come out of the camera come through the lens, come through the front of the camera, and, at some point, you cannot just keep layering your optics. It's because that will, in the end, start to really affect some of your picture quality.
All I can say is you just demonstrated it with the examples of film, but when you capture an image on an IMAX frame like that, you're capturing so much more information. I don't think people realize when you film on IMAX, and then you bring it down to even 35-millimeter, the image is still so much better. There's so much more information there.
HOYTEMA: Oh yeah, absolutely. That trickle-down effect that people underestimate very often very much. But if you trickle down from an original that is pristine and that is great, you will feel that quality trickle down very, very much in the derived formats. Every time you print down, or you go down on the resolution, you lose a lot of detail, and you also gain a lot of artifacts. The better your original materials, the lesser artifacts you get. So, when I look at that, and at Apple or whatever, and I look at something that's originated in 70-mil or something that originated in 35-mil, I can very easily spot the difference.
I spoke to Chris, and he told me there are no CGI shots in the movie, which I found amazing. What was it like when you and him, and everybody involved, were talking about filming certain sequences, especially the use of light, and he wants to use these big IMAX cameras and do everything in camera? Can you sort of talk about making everything happen, with the visual effects team, obviously?
HOYTEMA: It’s, for me, always a super exciting period in the prep that is everybody sort of throwing those crazy ideas into the hats. And a lot of them, they don't have necessarily technical solutions to it, and then, step by step, people come up with all these kind of weird solutions and weird ideas that we then very often test them, and we start testing them as well as we start building them. Like it was very clear to us that, very early in the start, we wanted to—and I'm talking then about Andrew Jackson and Scott Fisher, our glorious visual and special effects team that were working very close together, also, because visual effects and special effects on a shoot like this is very closely related. Because Andrew Jackson, as much as how he's connected to a visual effects department, wanted to rely as little as possible on CGI. So he really took control over trying to get as much as possible in camera, as well in his world, and with the help of Scott Fisher. So they work very close together.
As much as we wanted this to be IMAX and part of the IMAX sequences, we realized that we want to shoot a lot of microphotography on IMAX format, [which] doesn't really have those kinds of possibilities, right? So straight away, we started engineering those specific lenses for the IMAX camera. Effectively, when you do this sort of microphotography, when you want to have a camera, for instance, in between here, or track in between here to enlarge the world of this to sort of a life-size format, you need special lenses. You need what we call probe lenses. They didn't exist for IMAX, so Dan Sasaki from Panavision built us this pro lens, and we experimented with it, and we improved it, and in the end, it was something that we used a lot for aquarium work and micro work and macro work. So, that was very exciting.
And basically, the visual effects department, you could say, was a tent that was always put up next to our set where we’re doing all these science experiments. We would shoot molded metal, shoot into aquariums with silver particles, or do micro explosions of balloons in reverse, et cetera, et cetera. There's a lot of small, little, very tactile physics experiments going on that we then tried to film in different ways, with different kinds of cameras, as well. And then sort of cobbled together this kind of idea of the quantum physics or particle physics, or atoms crashing into each other, or a gigantic nuclear explosion, et cetera, et cetera.'
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popculturebuffet · 3 years
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New X-Men Xtrospective Part 1: E is For Extinction “They Will Need Us”
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I am SO fucking excited for this one. As might not be obvious to ALL of my readers but should be obvious to some, I fucking love the X-Men. They are one of my favorite superhero teams period as are several of their spinoffs such as X-Factor (All versions), New Mutants, and Marauders. I love the wide cast, the hugely vast universe within the already vast and wonderful marvel universe, and the sheer amount of GREAT stories. I own all 11 movies, have several action figures, and two posters from Jonathan Hickman’s current and utterly dynamite run right above me right now as I work, as well as a marvel 80′s themed poster behind me that’s at least half x-men for good reason. I love this gang of mutants and I have not talked about them enough. 
I”ve done some X-Men stuff sure: I’ve talked about hickman’s time as head writer of the books a year in earlier this year, I did a few scattered reviews back when I did single issues of comics, and then we get to the one I beefed big time: covering ALL of X-Men evolution. While it’s a noble endeavor I freely admit to overexerting myself: I recapped the episodes way too closely, gave myself no real schedule and did so while I was already covering two shows a week at the time. My point is it was a good idea, but the timing was REALLY fucking bad and if I do it again, I intend to do it right and iwth a proper place in my now properly paced schedule. I also planned to do the movies which, unlike evolution, I have solid plans to do once I clear out some of my projects. Point is I burned bright and then exploded and took a whole projecet with me phoenix style. 
I had until this moment yet to do a really big x-men project, something digging into the comics, something that could help fans both of the comics and not get familiar with something really good, and help me dig into both the good and bad of something. I jsut needed the right start. 
Then Christmas gave me that spark, that project that gave me the idea for a butload more x-men content on here and was the perfect starting point for some. See my friend Marco lives in Honduras, and so since i couldn’t afford to send him anything for christmas in the mail, as i’m not exactly rich, I instead offered him three reviews of anything.l He still hasn’t taken up two of them, nor one I gave him for graduating college, but the first one was a doozy, something he hadn’t read due to not liking the art, which is fine as I have some art in comics I don’t like everyone has diffrent tastes, at least for the first arc, and something VITALLY important to x-men as a whole and that’s the backbone of hickman’s current run: the first arc of new x-men, e is for extinction. And given New X-Men is one of my faviorite comics of all time I not only lept on it.. but decided fuck it I’m covering the whole thing. So every so often on here from now until I finish, i’m going to be covering Grant Morrisons ground breaking, mind shattering, status quo destroying run on the children of the atom. This.. is going to be fucking awesome. Buckle up. 
New X-Men came about in 2001. Stop me if you heard this one: The X-Men, once marvel’s best selling title and one of i’ts most beloved, had been set adrift in a seal of editorial bullshit, bad writing, bad storylines and a stale continuity where not much could change or grow and things always reset to about the same place it was last week. If this sounds familiar it’s because it somehow happened AGAIN thanks to Ike Perlmutter’s bullshit, hence the current hickman run, but we’ll get into all of tha tsome other time. Point is as it was in 2018, so it was in 2001: The x-men were in bad straits and marvel reached out to a host of various creators to swing for the fences and find a new direction, something to bring sales and life back to the book. To my shock they actually took a LOT of diffrent pitches in before Morrisons won and from huge names: Geoff Johns, who had not yet returned to DC never to leave, Alex Ross, Keith Giffen.. all huge creative types. but in the end the best man won.
For those unfamiliar with him, Grant Morrison is a gloriously batshit scotsman with a long, storied and delightfully insane history in comics, mostly at DC before and after this comic. This is for good reason: DC scouted Morrison specifically because of his early work at 2000ad. See at the time Alan Moore had hit it really big with Swamp Thing, taking a d list, so so book and making it into an utter masterpiece and giving it thoroughly interesting mythology. Given it was a blockbuster hit that’s still widely loved and discussed, as it should be today, DC decided to repeat the strategy of asking British indie comics creators to come do the same to another property. This same experiment is why Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman exists, so.. yeah it was actually a great strategy and naturally Grant had their first big hit with Animal Man, a metafictional take on a b-list hero that made him a loveable family man, while also putting him through hell and playing with the medium and dc’s vast history, the last two being Morrison’s trademark from then on out.
 They’d next go on to reinvent one of my other faviorite teams: THE DOOM PATROL!  The patrol are a bunch of victims of strange accidents who got powers out of them that are basically curses... and Morrison solidified that concept, taking over after a weak run that ironically enough was trying to imitate the x-men’s success at the time. Instead Morrison just went all out with his weird shit for the first time and made them a team of broken but likeable people with weird powers fighting just the weirdest most incomprehensible shit, a run i’ll likely be digging into eventually along with the team as a whole. It’s also, along with Gerard Way’s recent run, the bedroock for the current and utterly masterful doom patrol series I need to catch up on. They also apparently once wrote a satrical comic starring and lik mocking hitler... a fact I somehow JUST learned but naturally doesn’t surprise me at all. 
Morrison’s career at dc, after doing some creator owned stuff there when Vertigo opened up, hit it’s peak in the late 90′s as they were given the go ahead to reinvent the Justice League, with the wildly successful and awesome JLA, another book I probably need to take a look at that put the big 7 back into the team.  And by now your probably getting the point of me covering his career pattern.. besides giving morrison the praise they deserve, and they’d have some really great runs after this.. and some terrible ones but no one’s perfect. My point is that at this point in their career Morrison’s greatest skill was taking something that had grown stagnant or been forgotten, blowing it up and reworking it into something glorious and new. Taking what worked, scraping away what didn’t and on the whole making something fucking glorious out of it. So here we are. The X-Men needed a new coat of paint and uncle grant had their lcd laced psycadelic paint bucket and brush shaped like a pidgeon at the ready. And for better, way better and admitely sometimes here and there worse,they changed the x-men for good. Some changes were rolled back out of spite, others finally got their chance after said rollback recently, and some were just outright thrown on the grown and smashed with a hammer. But for the most part Grant left a huge impact on the x-men and i’m here to show you why, warts and all. To me my x-men, this is new x-men.  Now naturally there’s even more exposition but i’ts more in what COULD’VE been. Originally while Wolverine, Cyclops, Jean Grey and Professor X were all part of the team the other two members of the slim roster for this run, Beast and Emma Frost.. weren’t. Originally Morrison was going to have Colossus and Moira Mactaggert, long time team ally, token human until very recently, and now thanks to hickman one of the most important x characters peirod and long before that a fan favorite of mine, on the team, with Moira taking over for beast. 
This.. didn’t pan out since Marvel apparently either didn’t give a shit about their plans or already had things in motion as the climax of the longtime legacy virus storyline killed both off. Colossus until Joss Whedon, bastard he may be, brought him back for his terrific Astonishing X-Men, and Moira SOMEHOW stayed dead until House/Powers of X. See this speaks to one of the big roadblocks morrison faced: Jonathan HIckman currently has absolute power and all his writers working in concert, a new way of doing things comic companies shold honestly copy en masse as it’s really working wonders. Grant.. was just one of many writers and one of three main x books the others being Chris Claremont’s XTREME X-MEN, basically “let the legend do what he wants since he can’t get freedom on the main book” and another writer on uncanny... before eventually chuck austen took over and I will tackle that horrible mess some other time. Point is while Morrison was setting the tone, costume style and making the big waves, they still didn’t have full power and thus had to play nice with eveyrone else.  So their next idea was Rogue, making mer more like her x-men evolution version.. except Chris wanted her, so that was out, though being a decent enough guy he willingly gave up Beast since the moira thing meant Morrison needed a science person. As for Colossus replacement, as it turned out a fan had suggested Grant do something with Emma Frost since Gen X was canceled and while Morrison had zero intention for it clearly Emma clicked with hthem and she was soon both a main part of the cast and one of their biggest contributions to X-Men as a whole.
As for what I think of the needed changes.. they ended up being for the best. I do like Moira... but Hank ended up being a much better fit for the team dynamic wise and power set wise, while Emma was the same. While Colossus, Rogue and Moira are all fantastic characters, I think what we ended up with was just a better mix overall. I DO think the team is incredibly white, but that’s a general x-men problem, even with having an assload of diverse and intresting characters, so it’s not entirely his fault. All in all it’s a fantastic roster: four of the x-men’s best, their leader in the field for the first time in forever, and a new and intresting wild card. IT’s a nice ballance of characters and we’ll get more into it as we go. Now all the expositions done, we can finally dive head first into new x-men. I hope you survivie the experince under the cut. 
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After an utterly gorgeous and striking cover, the one used up top, we get one solid page to introduce us to Morrison’s mission statment, how  they feel and how good Frank Quitely’s art looks
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I cropped it best i could for tumblr but this one image immidetly says a lot. Our heroes are just.. easily taking down this sentinel, an old model... the same one we’ve seen a dozen times. What were once the grim, possible destroyers of an entire race of beings in days of future past and devistating killing machines in the present.. had become stale easily defeated murder bots There had been noble attempts to really make the sentiinels work again like the horrifying omega sentinels, humans forcibly converted into sleeper agent killing machines, during operation: zero tolerance, but otherwise they were mostly just a prop for the x-men to knock down. And that.. really is morrison’s whole point. Lampshading and mocking the fact the x-men had grown stale, things hadn’t really progressed.. and that it was time to move on. But to Uncle Grant’s credit, they not only uses this as a mission statment but it’s plot relevant: this mission will both be explained soon and explains why Logan and Scott are out and about enough to end up where the plot will soon need them. It also helps, via the sight of the syndey opera house establish something Morrison made a staple of their run: the X-Men going global. While the x-men were never really NOT global post claremont, Morrisons run has them handling rescue missions and what not worldwide far more often than most runs before it sans Claremont, and really made it feel like they weren’t just another super team but a global force of good with a specific goal and mission. More on the global aspect next time, as that’s where it really comes in but I felt it was important to show it was there for minute one. 
So yeah before we move onto the first full scene of the run, let’s talk about the costumes. 
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We’ll talk about Emma’s later since she’s not introduced to the story for a while but yeah. There’s a sharp, obvious and immediate change just in the outfits, which take after the movie’s more military look, having the x-men not only look more like a unit but more like a professional orginization. Someone to come and help when needed. While this would take on more siginifigance in a bit, we’ll get to it, it also fits Morrisions own views that the x-men were less of a traditional superhero team and more something different on the edges that fought things out there, sorta what like he did with doom patrol. And it’s honestly a valid interpretation as the x-men are often seen as outlaws and misfits by society for beingn well.. mutants. Not as trusted as the avengers. So having them adopt this look played into that: Having them look more professional and focused as The X-Men have a less blanket mission statement than the avenger.. but also mildly threatning. Something to alarm the humans. It’s an utterly brilliant look thrown best together by the big yellow x’s, still giving it a nice flash of color to show off and show this is still a comic and this is still damn colorful.. this just isn’t your AVERAGE supherhero comic or the x-men your used to. IT’s a real shame the only fox x-men movie to use it was fucking dark phoenix.. a film where it didn’t even fit as xavier was getting flashier and more reckless so why wouldn’t he have more garish and colorful and more traditional superhero outfits. They did look good in their variants in first class though. Props there. Point is this is a classic, utterly stunning look, and tha’ts coming from someone whose fine with goofy superhero outfits and perpetually bitter hawkeye is almost never allowed to wear his actual comic outift and is instead stuck with shades instead of you know.. a mask. Or anything resembling an actual good looking costume. This though this is how you do a less superheroy costume: practical and realistic, but still cool looking and comic book friendly. 
We cut to a mysterious lady, we’ll come to know her as Cassandra Nova and while I know her origin... i’m saving it for later as the comics themselves explain it eventually, and a simpering dolt she brought with her, Donald Trask, a distant relative of the creators of the sentinels who, via holograms she’s showing cro magnons slaughtring the neanderthal. Her point is that Mutants are going to do this and she’s clearly fearmongering him and trying to talk him into genocide: to wipe them out before they wipe out humanity. And it’s here we get one of hte most important plot points of Morrisons run and one of the most intresting: according to cassandra’s research Humanity will be no more in 4 generations. Mutankind is on it’s way to overtaking them at last.. i’ts still a few decades off.. but it’s coming. It’s sometihing that the whole decimation nonsense sadly snuffed.. and John Hickman has thankfully brought back. I’ll get to his run once i’ts complete in a few years, but point is it’s an utterly marvelous plot hook: Humanity, whose already attempted genocide a few times, is now in real danger of what their petty, racist, fearful attacks have been about: being replaced. It’s one of the central themes of the work the other two being “Just what IS mutantkind and what will it be”. WHat are they as a people? We’ll dig into these as we go but the threat of exctincion is the backbone of this arc... and will lead to something truly ghastly. 
It’s then we get our title page.. which nothing really to add it just looks really good and helps show off who are cast is and what they can do with striking simple art. 
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And since we’re already talking the art of the book, let’s take a moment to discuss an intresting detail of this run: despite it’s short length there’s quite a few diffrent artist, who we’ll talk about of course as we get to each one. The most common and notable though is Frank Quitely. Frank Quitely is one of Morrison’s closest and best creative partners, having a unique, squishy art style.. i.e. the one my friend didn’t like which is why i’m covering this. And while I like the art style quite a bit, I do get why it’s not everyone’s cup of tea: His art is squashed, weird, and admitely some faces can be good god no incaranate. But it’s also why I like it: his characters feel unique, each body and figure feels like it was custom made and thus feels.. real. Like this is a person before you. And given comics can often surrender to having everybody look the damn same, this is nice. His faces may sometimes look similar but his bodies are where the action is. But while having a realistic feel his work also has a weird alien quality that perfectly fits Morrison, and thus his run on x-men. I will say while I love All-Star Superman, his art fits less there in the more hopeful silver agey story, so he’s not an artist for EVERY STORY OF EVERY TYPE.. but when it comes to sci fi weridness, he fits it like a glove so i’ts unsuprising he and morrison are practicaley soul mates, nor that his art sets the tone perfectly for the run: this is something new, diffrent and strange.. and what says x-men at it’s best more than that?
So after our opening titles we cut to the mansion where Hank is showing off his latest and greatest invention: Cerebra. Cerbebra is a massively upgraded version of Cerebro, aka Professor Xavier’s iconic helmet that allows him to track mutants to help them out.. and covertly backup their conconousness for his long game plan, but shhhh, don’t tell anyone yet that’s not going to be retconned in for a few decades. Though i’m damn certain if Morrison has heard about the current era of x-men and how it both builds on what he built, shatters the status quo and is incredibly weird, he’d be damn proud. As for how it’s diffrent Cerebra not only has a large dome around it but said dome allows the machine to amply Charles powers to a global reach. He can now see mutants all over the world anywhere in the world, something I didn’t realize wasn’t ALWAYS a thing because it seems so simple. It’s also likely to bring it more in line with the movies. And while marvel has done TERRIBLE with bringing things in from the movies or in line with them in recent years, i.e. making star lord more like his movie self while forgetting that’s how he already used to be in canon before later writers thankfully did hte better step of merging the two, Hawkeye’s outfit, Cap’s outfit or Nick Fury Jr.  But for every mistep there’s also been tons of times it’s worked out really well such as here, as well as bringing hulk into the avengers for the first time since the founding, making tony stark more like the mcu version and less like a nightmarish self righetous dicktator who rightfully gets beat up and called out a lot, making Scott Lang prominent since he became prominent in the MCU, Wakanda being a major force in the marvel universe as it always should have been and various titles that have popped up to tie into movies, often bringing back a team or property that hadn’t had a book in some time like Ant-Man, Black Panther, and Shang Chi just to name a few. It’s not always hawkeye looking all jeremy renner is what i’m saying.. though thankfully comics clint isn’t that uninteresting. Hopefully the series will change that. 
So yeah along with a bigger shinier cerebro we’re also introduced to a big change in Hank whose taken on his lion form rather than his classic gorilla with a weird haircut or his return to that except bald. Here he’s more like aslan in a human body and I.. love it. It looks great, helps sell hanks delima of being brilliant while looking like a beast and makes sense: he kickstarted what was likely his own secondary evolution by drinking the potion that made him bestial, so it only makes sense his body wouldn’t be all that stable even if it took years to change again. And even that makes sense as hank was breifly turned back to his original hairless ape mutation during x-factor, easily one of the books.. worse decisions honestly and one that louise simonson thankfully later undid. That probably bought him some time hence why it’s only mutating further now.  It also adds an intresting wrinkle which the run will explore further: how far does this go? Will he regress? and how much hank will be left? And how will society treat his new form? 
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For now he’s actually extatic. While he’s going through hormonal changes, and giving out some excellent banter with Jean
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Which also includes one of the greatest lines in comic book history, one that’s been in my head for decades and made me absolutely love henry mccoy. 
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He’s just great is what i’m saying. As you can tell it’s stuff like this why i’m glad Moira fell through. While I love her.. Morrison’s hank is just a delight and one really questionable subplot aside, we’ll get to that, he’s one of the highlights of this run with an intresting internal struggle, and great chemistry with EVERYONE. And that is the main reason i’m glad Moira fell through as his history with everyone but Emma, who he still has a great raport with, means each interaction has weight. He’s close friends with both scott and jean and thus serves as their needed confidant, while still being able to buddy and banter iwth good old weapon x, and speak with his mentor charles as an equal. While I love moira... Beast just fits into the cast too perfectly and I 100% suspect Morrison was only using her because, while she’s awesome, Claremont wanted her and thus gladly snapped her up when he no longer had a science person. I’ll get into his Jean soon enough but she’s likewise fantastic and easily my faviorite version of the character.. not that until very recently there was much honest competition. 
So Cerebra fires up showing a massive cloud of mutants, showing just how much of a huge spike theirs been with Xavier wondering what it all means.. and Hank seeing a weird flare on the mointor for just a second with his special eyes. But since Xavier isn’t stupid and isn’t the kind of idiot who just dismisses it as a fulke, and since Scott and Logan are in the field, he decides to confrence call them in to see if they can go take a look. 
And naturally we get to see what their up to and get context for what the hell happened in the first page. Our heroes were on a rescue mission to save Ugly John, tha’ts what people called him, a three faced mutant who ends up passing out as they head out of the atmosphere for a second. Wolverine is regenerating and smoking out of his neck becaue he could still smoke back then before marvel decided “he’s setting a bad example”.. in a comic meant for teens and adults. 
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I mean I get it on some level as the x-men cartoon was a huge thing in the 90′s and Ben Grimm is basically a giant children’s toy with the mind of a surly 40 year old jewish man from yancy street, but stilll it’s just.. why. I may not like smoking but it’s not like it was SPIDER-MAN saying
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It’s a grown man.. whose not a sterling roll model and who Claremont went out of his way to have Logan point out his healing factor means it really dosen’t hurt him in the long run and when Kitty, an actual teenager, tried one of his cigars she choked. I know it’s a weird thing to get hung up on but while i’m all for keeping kids from smoking, this was a really clumsy way to try and hehlp that that made no sense and will never make any sense. 
One tangent later we find out that Cassandra was showing Trask a simulation on a flight to, unsuprisingly, south america, to a sentinel blacksite. Between covertly funding civil wars as they do, the US Goverment naturally founded an experimental sentinal project, and a second master mold during the production of the first line... when larry trask asks where it could possibly be well...
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Subtly was not the trasks strong point.. or common sense... or.. not realizing their creations would dominate humanity too or not dying. 
Anyways we then cut back to the x-men, as their having a psychic zoom meeting with Charlie giving one of his patnted big speeches.. and like a lot of this comic it’s too damn good not to use 
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The reason I couldn’t should be obvious: This one speech sums up the x-men, why their great and why their necessary in a nutshell: in a world full of prejucided morons.. there’s plenty of scared kids who NEED the x-men to protect and guide them, and with a surge in the mutant population, their needed now more than ever. We also get a good explanation in universe for the uniform change: Charles had them in the superhero outfits hoping humanity would accept them if they were packaged as something they know. Since that clearly hasn’t worked he’s trying new ways to reach out and thus going with a diffrent more rescue team approach to the uniforms. He assigns Wolvie and Cyke to go check out the flair as you’d expect and the meetings over. On the blackbird we get our first hint at a subplot as Logan noticed Cyclops couldn’t wait to get out of there, and is being a tad distant to his wife. He actually has reasons for being kind of cold for once instead of just bad writing as he just came back from being possed by apocalypse. Yeah that happened. So the experience has rattled our boy some what. More on that as we go. But Jean ducks the subject with hank but does breach the fact that Charles has been going kind of crazy with the spending, new uniforms and ambition lately. Hank explains it perfectly: After all the death, suffering and misery the x-men have endured lately, the aforementioned deaths I talked about that took Colossus and Moira off the roster, have lionzed Charles to make sure it was all worth something and look towards the future. 
But enough hope time for horror as Cassandra makes her first direct move, trying to take over Charles brain , make his body her own and use cerebra to kill lots and lots of mutants. We then get one of the best moments of Morrisons run with Charles response to a horrifying monster trying to take his brain
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While it is shocking to find out Charles has a gun..it’s a grim but kind of understandable precaution. The guy once got fully taken over by a brood, assembling the New Mutants in part because the brood wanted to create more of i’ts kind with more super powers. You’d be paranoid too if some of your beloved students were brought together partly due to your good intentions and partly because a space monster wanted to make more space montsters out of helpless teens, and even horribly gaslighted one of them. We’ll get to that some day. Point is Charles brain is one of the greatest weapons on earth and if the wrong person got a hold of it, it’d be the end of said earth. Thankfully Charles does not need plan gun, as Jean yanks Cerebra off him but the sheer HATE Charles felt from Cassandra, the sheer power has rattled him.. and also told him she’s in Ecuador and his X-Men need to be warned NOW. It’s a great way to set up just HOW powerful Cassandra is.  Speaking of which as our first issue of the arc ends, we find out two things: Cass faked being int he government but really just used dead soldiers as prop.. and just what kind of sentinels are out there.. wild sentinels. Easily my faviorite variant of the old killing machines and one that’s barely used despite being really damn awesome. Their adaptive killing machines, designed to mutated just like their pray and take tech from around them, as a result they look like a jumble of guns and parts.. but not only does it give them a unique, cool look.. but it makes them ten times deadlier as instead of being big bricks of robots that while intimidating, the x-men know how to kill... their unpredictable variable killing machines. You can figure out how to kill one sure.. btu the next might be entirely diffrent. They are one of morrisons best creations and I hope someone uses the idea again.. aka hickman. Please use it jonathan I know your focused on nimrod but come on. 
And we end on one of the best lines of the entiire run as we close out the issue
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Yeah it goes without saying but i’ll say it anyway; Morrison is really damn good with dialouge and being damn quotable. 
So we open with another great quote “When I got up today I didn’t expect to kill 20 million people”... and Cassandra being aware Wolverine and Cyclops are on their way and sending the Wild Sentinels to dispatch them. Also our heroes brought Ugly John along while while a dumb move, Wolvie does point out how dumb it was to divert to Ecuador with a civlian in tow.. after the plane crash of course. As for “wait what plane crash’, the sentinels attack and start picking it apart... and since letting them have such good tech is a terrible idea, Scotty blows up the damn plane. So to recap our heroes are stuck in ecuador, surrounded by murder machines, and oh look their there and knock off cyclops viser. Fantastic. So yeah our heroes are fucked. And naturally captured by the enemy.
The rest of the x-men are doing SLIGHTLY better. While beast makes a note for his girlfriend, more on that later on, Charles is in bed, half alive, explaning the rationale I gave for why he has the gun with Jean refusing to let him get back out of bed and you know.. put on the device that just nearly killed him. But when beast announces they lost contact with our boys.. yeah that ceased being an option. 
Back in the Ecuadorian Genocide Factory, Cassandra does the obvious and kills donald trask as his real purpose..was to stick around and be stupid for a bit while she copied his dna so she could have full control of her new murder toys.She soon uses them, having a horrifying death chamber slaughter john.. or at least flash fry him. Wolverine takes it how you’d expect and since the sentinels need to “perserve trask dna”.. they can’t fire on him without killing her. Scott escapes.. and in a heart wrenching scene mercy kills john.. before getting badass. 
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To anyone who says Scott Summers is boring, unintersting, or a stupid asshole idiot head I present exhbit shut the fuck up. Morrison gets scott just right, deconstructing his emotional suppression, while showing him off as a dedicated, companionate man who gets the job done and who seconds after tearfully having to mercy kill an innocent mutant whose death was partially his fault, wastes no time making it painfully clear to the person responsible she WILL die if she tries that again. Logan however realizes she’s already won in some fashion as she’s grinning.. and yeah never a good sign when a genocidal madwoman is grinning like a loon.. and when we find out why.. it’s even less good>  We cut to Genosha. A lot of you probably know what happned to Genosha but in case you don’t know what it is it was once a horribly racist country that genetically enslaved mutants and used them for slave labor. It was freed, but still struggled to truly move on.. till Magneto showed up, took the country for himself and made it a home for all mutants. When we last saw him he once again tried to take over the world leading to Logan seemingly killing him. Right now though Emma Frost finally enters the scene teaching some mutants.. when a young one named Negasonic Teenage Warhead.. yes that one and yes she was entirely chosen for deadpool for her name, reveals, via precognition, that their all going to die.. right as the sentinels attack. 
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Genosha.. is gone. In an eyeblink 16 million mutants are dead, a possible future gone, and one of their greatest leaders is no more. Yeah Magneto WAS alive.. but paralyzed so he could do nothing when his island was utterly slaughtered. Only a handful of mutants will be revealed to survive. Humanity had done a lot to mutants before .. but for once.. they’d succeeded in wiping a massive chunk out. What was an x-men location for DECADES at this point.. was now a smoldering crater. A what could of been that would hant the x-men ever after, even now into utopia it remains the darkest day in mutant history outside of hte decimation. It is a truly horrific moment.. and if the changes already hadn’t made it clear this is morrison saying “NO character is safe, nothing is safe, and nothing will be the same and I damn well mean that”. In one act of hate the world has changed. And it hasn’t finished changing yet. 
Issue Three opens hammering in things, as Jean and Beast are in the ruins of genosha, with Xavier having found ONE surivor among the rubble, and our heroes sturggling to find even them, though Jean eventually picks them up and uses her TK to sift through the rubble. 
They find Emma who emerges from a bunker in shock, clutching NTW... and not realizing she’s dead until later and revealing she now has diamond skin, her own secondary mutation. Secondary Mutation was a birlliant idea, new powers sprouting up within established mutants.. it’s just morrison barely used this great idea as did hardly anyone else. Only X-Men Blue ever really dug into it and those were artifical at that. IT’s a great idea..it’s just barely used and at most heavily implied to explain changes in powers like Jamie Madrox Multiple Personalities later on or Doug Ramsey’s vast increase in power. Disapointing. 
While Charles takes in the tragedy and the fact his old frienmie is dead, the x-men wonder what the fuck Cassandra is and what to do with her.. why did she kill 16 million people, and what the fuck is she. I mean I know, but as I said i’ll explain that when the story does.  IN the other room Beast tends to Emma who wants none of not fucking killing Cassandra.. and is utterly right. Bitchy, because i’ts Emma, but right: she killed 16 million people. Say what you want but while it may not be up to the x-men to kill her.. she shoudln’t be living much longer. She commited genocide. Emma decides fuck that and prepares to leave summoning a cab and making peace with being a glorious living fabrige egg. Emma did apparelty change in generation x.. but Morrison is responsible for returning her not only to being a bitch, but a gloriously delightful one And really I don’t think they reset her character entirely: she’s not the heartless monster she started out as: she has empathy, grace, and caring.. she just buries it under a lair of absolute bitch and after you know, surviving a fucking genocide who can blame her? And honestly.. I love their verison of her. She provides a nice contrast to the more idealistic, even logan, x-men and a nice contrarian voice in the room without being obnoxious and her style and sacrastic swagger makes her endlessly entertaning. Thanks to morrison she’s stuck around to this day and went from a pretty good character.. to a great one. And what makes her this way, or as jean puts it “such a bitch?”
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With that settled, Hank explains what Cassandra is: a competing species. As he puts it sometimes evolution takes a quantum leap forward.. and Cassandra is the result. Thus she wants to wipe out the compettition and is so far above humanity, she dosen’t need them... especially since she knows what Hank now knows: humanity is at an end. As hank puts it we have an E Gene, one that basically shuts off a race.. and thus the x-men now know what we learned earlier and that cassandra wasn’t lying: in 4 generations there are no more humans and something has to repalce htem. And Cassandra wants it to be her. 
Before Logan can do what he does best, and asks why she looks like charles, Cassandra escapes, and Scott briliantly urges them to fight only on instict as she’s a telepath. A damn awesome fight insues including Cassandra donning Charles Psoonic battle armor, Scott being put in his black bug room and the general good looking chaos you’d expect from a superhero fight. While this goes on Emma has an ephinany and realizes she likes to teach, the x-men have a school.. and she shoudln’t give up on helping kids just because of what happened and turns around. 
Cassandra is near victory, slipping her way to Cerebra.. and planning to kill only one mind before getting to the millions she wnats, a horrifying slug manifesting around her.. only...
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So the x-men accept this and cassandra rises.. seemingly saying “I am charles” Huh... and then charles uncaracteristiacally shoots her saying things must change
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We’ll get to what all of that means next time as we close on Jean and Scott in bed. Scott explains why he’s been so distant as what I said earlier: fighting off apocalypse stripped away a lot of illusions about himself and he’s having a hard time walking back from that but Jean is willing to help.. but before they can resolve their  issues.. charles has an annoucnment to make and grant has one last whopper of a suprise to end his opening arc on, and just like genosha...it’s a game changer of titanic proportions
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No longer is Xavier’s School hidden. Their walking into the light now and so is charles. Hope they surivive the experince. Obviously this move is brilliant: while it removes the veil of saftey the x-men had it also brings on tons of new possiblities and unlike secondary mutation, this one not only stuck but would impact the x-men for good: no longer would they hide and cower.. their mutant and proud.. and their here to stay.  E For Extinction is one of the best x-men stories period. Blisteringly paced, full of great character, great concepts and utterly terrifying and terrific moments that would impact the x-men all the way to present day. It’s beautifully drawn, well paced, and a masterwork. I highly recommend it and it’s a great kickoff to a great run. Shame the run couldn’t of ended on this kind of high but.. we’ll get to that. For now this is a masterclass in how to start a run and if you haven’t read it do so NEXT TIME ON NEW X-MEN: A bunch of weirdos try to harvest mutant organs, the x-men get a brain in a jar and a new teamate, and Scott maybe cheats on his wife. Until then, goodbye goodbye goodbye. 
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dc41896 · 4 years
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Save Room for Us
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Hey guys☺️! So this is inspired by the songs “Save Room for Us” by Tinashe and “Should’ve Been Us” by Tori Kelly (idk if that’s a thing for an imagine to be inspired by two songs that but here we are lol). Also I feel like it’s a bit lengthy so sorry about that and hope you guys like it!
Pairing: Chris EvansxBlack Reader
⚠️: Tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff💕!
“Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon? Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grins? Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?,” you sing along with Pocahontas on the television screen while your 10 month old daughter, Ameera, sat in your lap as you finished securing the bow on her last puff.
Babbling as she gazes at the movie, the chime of the security alarm from the front door opening draws her attention as she crawls towards the armrest. “Looks like your favorite uncle is here,” you smile hearing her excitedly squeal seeing Chris walk into the room.
“I’m coming sweetheart just let me wash my hands first.”
Having stayed with him in his Boston home throughout the entirety of quarantine so far, Ameera had become attached to her new playmate. When he wasn’t being interviewed or working with Mark, you’d find the both of them laughing on the floor on top of one of his throws playing peek a boo or with one of her many toys.
Sometimes they’d even watch Disney movies together with Chris being the reason for her current obsession with Pocahontas. Both sat with eyes glued to the screen wrapped in a blanket eating a snack, you couldn’t help but secretly take a picture trying to hide your laughter at the adorable site.
“Hi meemo,” Chris smiles picking up the already giggling little girl and kissing her cheek before sitting on the couch beside you. “What have you been doing since I’ve been gone huh?”
“The usual. Eating, playing, fussing when she wants to watch her new favorite movie.”
“Sounds like you had a busy day,” he chuckles tickling under her chin. “And what about you? Still packing your stuff?”
“Yea I uh packed some of her toys earlier but that’s it.”
“You know, you don’t have to go. I don’t have a problem with you guys staying as long as you want. Even ma told me to tell you her place is open too,” he adds looking at you while your daughter plays with the pendant on his necklace.
Being your best friend, you knew he’d try to do whatever he could for you both, but that still didn’t take away the guilt you felt from the situation. You didn’t want to inconvenience him in any way with Ameera’s crying or her, at times, crazy sleep schedule especially since he was still working. He assured you that wouldn’t be the case though when he suggested you come stay with him during an impromptu venting session on your part.
Your parents wanted you to stay with them instead of being on your own in the apartment, but with five people living in a three bedroom house you knew things would eventually feel cramped. You were already stressed enough with everything going on and doing your best to take care of your baby. You didn’t feel like your family being on top of you would help.
And so here you were these past four months and counting living with your best friend from high school.
“I know, but my parents have been on my back talking about how they wish they could see Ameera in person and how I should be spending time with them, so I think it’s time we leave. Plus I’m sure you’re ready to get rid of us,” you laugh propping your elbow on the back of the couch.
“Never, if you guys wanted to live here forever I wouldn’t mind,” he smiles as Ameera taps his eyebrows with her small palms trying to get some words out but only releasing grunts making him laugh.
“Hey now, be gentle.”
“It’s ok, I know what she wants.” Raising his eyebrows and making a stern face, she wildly squeals showing her one tooth while grinning and bouncing up and down.
“Listen here small person, if you think you’re the most adorable one here you’re in for a rude awakening,” he speaks in a low voice further prompting her giggles.
“Why have you been doing Lucas Lee in front of my child?,” you laugh as he turns to you returning to his normal expression.
“Well she was fussy one day we were waiting for you to get out the shower so I did it making a funny face and she loved it. I guess it’s been our thing since.”
“Oh boy, I don’t think you know what you’ve created meera.”
“What? Everybody loves Lucas Lee,” he ruggedly speaks getting back into character. “That’s been proven from my numerous fan voted awards,” he winks making you lean forward in laughter and him join in soon after.
“Da-da!” Both of you snapping your heads to your daughter, you watch her giggle with hands on his chest as she presses her lips against his cheek trying to give him a kiss but leaving a slobbery mess instead.
“Da-da!”
“Meemo that’s your first word! Do it again, say da da!”
“Or how about we try uncle? Say un-cle!,” you smile playing with her hand.
“Dada,” she giggles again lying her head in the crook of his neck before letting out a soft yawn and making him aw as he gently sways her side to side.
“I can put her to sleep if you want?”
“No it’s okay I got her. Come on Ameera it’s nap time.”
Taking her from his hands, she pokes out her bottom lip as she begins to fuss not wanting to leave her uncle.
“It’s okay, I’ll be here when you wake up,” he tries to soothe only to be met with tears while you walk her to the guest room. Smiling to himself he hears you quietly sing the familiar melody over the baby monitor on the table eventually getting her to settle. Whenever he heard it, whether from your mouth or somewhere else, he was always brought back to visiting you in the hospital shortly after Ameera was born.
Tip toeing in the room behind your mom to surprise you, he found you alone with a content smile sitting in bed as you gently swaddled the tiny infant lying in front of you.
“My cherie amour, pretty little one that I adore, you're the only girl my heart beats for, how I wish that you were mine,” you sung carefully picking her up to cradle in your arms.
“I picked something up for you while I was out,” your mom smiled moving aside to reveal a slightly crouched Chris holding two large pink gift bags designed with cartoon storks.
“I thought you were away filming?!”
“Well, I heard it was someone’s birthday today so I’m here for the party!,” he answers kissing your temple as he gently hugs you with his free arm trying not to wake the currently sleeping bundle. “Welcome to the world Ameera.”
“Say thank you uncle Chris! You really didn’t have to get more gifts though, you’ve already done enough. And that especially goes for if there’s anything Patriots in there, you might as well throw it out now.”
“No there’s nothing Patriots in here now, but give it a couple years I’m gonna have her own jersey made.”
“You better not,” you both laugh startling Ameera as she begins to squirm and whine in your arms. Consoling her while you apologize, a soft smile forms on his lips as his gaze lingers on you.
Curls tied on the top of your head wearing your light blue ‘granny pajamas’, as you called them, and your glasses perched on your nose he knew you probably didn’t feel it but in this moment it was as if you were the most beautiful being he’d laid eyes on.
He always did think you were beautiful though from the first time you met, and now with the remnants of your pregnancy glow mixing with the one you already had from your natural beauty, he never wanted to look away.
“Hey, sorry about that,” you shyly speak interrupting his thoughts as you return to your seat next to him.
“About what the crying? Y/N I think I’m pretty used to that by now,” he chuckles while you shake your head.
“No, about her calling you dada. I promise we haven’t been practicing that or anything I was just as shocked as you.”
“Oh that, you don’t have to apologize,” he responds waving you off. “I mean she’s seen me everyday for four months, it’s understandable how it would happen. Plus I don’t mind if she wants to call me dad.”
“That’s very sweet, but what happens when you get a girlfriend? You don’t think that’ll seem weird to them your best friend’s kid calling you dad?”
“Well if after I explain why Ameera calls me dad they have a problem, then they’re not for me,” he shrugs.
“And what about when you have kids?”
“Then they’ll have an older sister. Like I said though Y/N if you’re not okay with it-,”
“It’s not that I’m not it’s just...,” you begin, sighing as you look down at the cushion below you trying to figure out your feelings. Of course it warmed your heart how he’d gladly fulfil that role for Ameera, but at the same time she wasn’t his responsibility. You didn’t want him to feel like he was obligated to do anything just because you were friends.
“Chris be honest, do you feel guilty because of what happened with me and Josh?”
Hearing that name instantly made him clench his jaw as he vividly remembered the night you confessed everything that was going on in your seemingly happy relationship. He just called to check on you and Ameera since it had been a while you two last spoke with him back working. You tried to stand strong saying how both of you were fine and updating him on how much she had grown, but being your friend for so long even through the phone he knew something was off.
That’s when you broke down explaining how Josh, your then fiancé, was feeling “stressed” from the pressures of marriage and fatherhood, and how he found comfort in, Kyla, one of the trainers at the gym he frequented.
He’d never consider himself a violent man, but it took every atom and particle in him not to pay a little visit to Josh to take care of him himself.
“Because if you are, you don’t need to be. Meera is mine and his responsibility and if he doesn’t want to step up then-.” Lightly shaking his head, he grabs your hands scooting closer to peer deeper into your brown eyes that were nearly on the verge of tears.
“No no no no Y/N listen to me, what I do for you and for meemo is because I care so much for both of you that I will do any and everything I can. That’s how I’ve felt since we were younger, since you told me you were pregnant, and how I’ll always feel. If anything, the thing I feel guilty about is not saving you from that heartache.”
“Chris don’t do that to yourself, how could you have saved me? You didn’t know that was gonna happen.”
“No I didn’t, but maybe if I would’ve told you earlier what I’ve always wanted to tell you then...things would be different,” he responds seemingly nervous as he releases a breath and eyes look as if he’s trying to carefully choose his next words.
“Our junior year I realized I liked you as more than a friend and I wanted to tell you before I left, but I got scared. So, I figured by the time I saw you again I’d have built up the courage to tell you how I felt but that wasn’t until your graduation where I found out you were going away for college. I didn’t want to be something that potentially added stress or held you back so again I left it alone. Missed chance after missed chance and eventually you met Josh and once you got engaged I knew that was it. I had no more chances. Looking back though I wish I would’ve said something sooner and then you wouldn’t have to had go through all of that and-and...”
Becoming silent, he sighs raking his hand through his dark brown strands looking towards the wooden beams on the ceiling.
“...and Ameera would be our daughter and not just mine,” you finish as he slowly nods with hands covering his face.
“I know, I’m a terrible person for thinking that.” Removing his hands to reveal his reddened face, a small smile rests on your lips as you lift his eyelids open so he could look at you.
“You’re not a terrible person for wondering what could have happened if you did something differently, everyone’s done it in some way. And as far as saving me goes, yea it would’ve been nice but in my opinion, sometimes the things we go through serve as lessons to help us in the future somehow. So take failed relationships for example, those are lessons we learn that help build us to be who we’re supposed to be. And when we finally find our person, yea that’ll come with its own lessons too, but again it’s part of the building process and what we’ve already learned will help us in that relationship with them.”
Light eyes staring into yours, you feel a bit insecure as you sit back turning your attention to the tv as you grab the remote. “Then again that probably made no sense and sounded dumb and naive and-,”
Before you could come up with more adjectives, you feel warm lips and prickling hair tap the corner of your mouth making you instinctively touch the same spot as you look at Chris.
“I-I’m sorry I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. It’s just what you said earlier definitely wasn’t dumb and-honestly figures I missed because I didn’t ask you first and you didn’t even say how you felt-,” he rambles before your hand covers his mouth.
“Christopher Dork Evans shut up. Would it have been nice of you to ask me first? Yes, and you’re right you shouldn’t have tried to kiss me....especially when my lips were turned in another direction.”
Looking at you slightly confused as you remove your hand, you shift your gaze to his lips as you inch closer until he meets you halfway to connect with yours. Slow and passionate, your lips move together as if they had plenty of practice doing this before. Feeling your body being shifted to his lap, your arms join around his neck as his hands keep you secured to his body holding your back and creeping down until...
“What? What happened?,” he lightly chuckles after you giggle against his lips breaking the intimate moment.
“You weren’t lying when you said that’s your preference.” Quickly removing his hands from your butt the heat returns to neck and face as he nervously laughs.
“Sorry, force of habit. I mean not that every girl I kiss I instantly grab it, and not that I make out with a lot of girls-,”
“It’s okay dork, I don’t mind,” you giggle leaning back in to return to where you left off. Centimeters apart, you both look towards the table once you hear the beginning of a light cry from the baby monitor signaling Ameera had woken up from her nap.
“She’s probably wet,” you both speak at the same time making you both laugh.
“You relax, I got her.” Quickly pecking your lips, you move over so he can stand up to make his way to her room. Face pressed against the pillow held against your chest, you couldn’t get rid of the giddy smile on your lips as his words and everything that followed really sink in.
“Hey meemo! Have a good nap?,” you hear him ask through the baby monitor.
“Da da,” she replies sounding a mix of sad and tired as she holds up her arms to be freed from her crib.
“I know you weren’t ready to wake up yet were you? The nasty wet diaper made you wake up?”
Silently giggling to yourself with their back and forth exchange as he changes her diaper, you soon hear footsteps returning as you sit up to see her lying on his shoulder while he carefully sits down.
“It’s a little weird, but I’m gonna miss seeing drool spots on my shirts when you guys leave,” he chuckles softly rubbing her back.
“Well I was just thinking that maybe staying with my parents doesn’t have to be long term. Like maybe we could be there for a week or two then come back and do that every now and then. If it’s okay with you that is.”
“Yea of course I’d be fine with that,” he smiles. “What made you change your mind?”
“Meera’s really comfortable here and I don’t want to possibly disrupt that you know? Plus I’d probably have to FaceTime you every day and night or else she’d be upset,” you laugh lightly grazing your thumb back and forth against her tiny hand.
“And it’s just Meera feeling that way?”
“Okay, maybe that’s how we both feel,” you smile leaning up to kiss his cheek.
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Moving Forwards? - Ficlet
Following on from the previous one. Chris decides whether or not he saw what he thought he saw as you plotted a course for the wrong nebula. Deciding that he probably did see it, what is he going to do about it?
Are you really worth breaking the rules for?
Word Count: 1600 (or something, I'll admit I forgot to look!)
It was hard to recall the moment he first noticed you.
Okay, that was wrong; he’d noticed you many times before now, you were part of the bridge crew after all, but he’d only recently become aware that it was potentially more than that.
Had it been the time you’d exchanged looks in the corridor; or maybe when he’d fallen against you during that battle?
That moment had certainly had an impact, he could still remember the feeling of your warmth against his leg, before he’d righted himself, apologising quickly. There had been moments after that when he’d caught you watching him and couldn’t help but wonder.
And then there was the nebula! The bridge crew would have to have been blind to not have noticed the way you were acting; to have guessed the reason for it. He was certain now that you had feelings for him, but not what he was going to do about it.
“Grow up, Christopher, you know it isn’t possible,” he hissed, running his hand through his hair briefly, before coming to a stop by his bed and sitting on the edge. It was different with Una, she was his direct report, his second in command, she was off limits to the extreme, but you were several layers down. You were in charge of the helm, still a higher ranking officer, but not a direct subordinate.
“And now you’re splitting hairs,” Chris chastised himself, as he lay back on the mattress, gazing up at the ceiling. “Everyone on this ship is your direct report. Relationships with them are forbidden in the regulations. You can’t have forgotten that!”
He hadn’t forgotten it, but he was starting to wonder about questioning it. Would it really be so bad were he to become friendlier with you; to see how things might evolve?
He wanted to, he knew that much for certain, but was it right to do so?
It was then that the door chimed and he sat up, frowning as he considered the time. He was off duty so it was certainly the middle of the night, beyond that he wouldn’t know without asking the computer.
“Who is it?” he asked instead, hoping it would be you, but also wishing it wouldn't be so. He didn’t want to commit to even that level of longing; not yet.
“It’s me.”
Your voice made his heart race and Chris stood, crossing out of the bedroom into the living area. His quarters had both, but then he was the captain, it was his right. “Enter.”
Taking a seat on the sofa, Chris watched as you stepped through the door, though you remained in the doorway and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Is there something you needed to talk to me about?”
“Well…I…”
Your nervousness was amusing to him, but mainly because he shared it. It was suddenly different, seeing you in his own space. On the bridge, or in the corridors or anywhere else really, there was always someone close by. Here it was just the two of you and he found himself standing, ushering you inside before you changed your mind and left.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“I…” you blushed slightly, immediately equating 'drink' with 'date', and the sight made Chris smile.
“I promise there are no strings,” he added quickly.
“Oh, in that case, maybe a coffee?” you managed, before you took a few steps further into the room, not wanting to appear rude.
“Is this about your family?” Chris asked, as he crossed to the replicator to make two coffees, not that he felt either of you needed one!
“My family?” you paused, recalling your lie by the helm and you shook your head. “No, sir, it is more, I wanted to check something, about us?”
Those words caused him to freeze, the replicated coffees waiting untouched in front of him. Had he heard you right, were you here to discuss what he had literally just been thinking about?
“Of course, please, take a seat,” Chris gestured you to the couch, handing you a coffee before perching on the edge of a second seat, close but not too close. “What’s on your mind?”
“I…” the blush on your cheeks deepened and you looked at the floor, marvelling for a moment at how spacious his quarters were, how nice. You’d never been in here; hell, you rarely visited anyone’s quarters but your own. It smelt of him too, a subtle musky scent that you immediately adored.
“Take your time,” Chris counselled, when it became clear you struggled with this as much as he did. Leaning back, he rest his coffee on his thigh, observing you. “If it makes it any easier, I suspect I was thinking the exact same thoughts before you arrived here.”
“I…you were?” you managed, holding back a myriad jokes because you weren’t sure it was even appropriate to shoot humour here. Captain Pike was still your commanding officer, even if he was largely off duty.
“I was,” Chris chanced a smile, before he leaned forwards again, slowly though, so as not to frighten you. “There was a moment, on the bridge today; I suspect we both felt it.”
“There was,” you agreed, allowing yourself to send a smile back to him, finally feeling some of the tension leave your body. So you hadn’t imagined it, he really did feel the same, at least a little.
“What…are we supposed to do with this?” you asked, eventually. It was a question that had plagued you for the rest of the shift, though you’d hidden it a lot better, never once sending the ship on the wrong heading. Still, you’d been unable to meet his eyes and had wolfed down your food so quickly you’d almost given yourself indigestion, anything to avoid the questioning looks of the other bridge officers. Everyone had seen what had happened on the bridge; everyone likely had questions.
“For the moment, there is nothing for us to do anything about,” Chris replied, as he lifted his coffee to his lips, sipping gently. He didn’t really want the caffeine, but it was a prop and he needed the time to organise his thoughts. His words already sounded like a breach of protocol and he needed the check he wanted to say the rest and cement his position. “But, I am willing to continue, to see…what may happen.”
“You are?” your surprise was immediate and obvious and Chris momentarily wondered if he had read the situation wrong; perhaps you were here to request a transfer to avoid him, and not because you wanted to pursue him?
“I…was…?” Chris managed, taking back his words, though it was already too late.
“Sorry, I was just, I wasn’t expecting that,” you admitted, putting the coffee on a side table so you could shuffle forward on the couch, moving closer to him. “I was expecting you to quote regulations at me and tell me to, well, move on, but in a nicer way than that.”
“I still might, but not yet,” Chris mirrored your actions, moving to the edge of his own seat, then shuffling it forwards so his knees were almost touching yours. He could smell your scent now; no doubt amplified by your nerves and his own desire. “You should ensure that this conversation; this moment, has no bearing on your future performance. If I tell you to lay in a course for a specific nebula, I expect us to head towards that nebula and not a different one.”
Laughing, you nodded your head, “I promise I will keep the ship on course,” you managed, speaking honestly. You hated that you’d blundered so obviously in front of everyone; it was an experience you weren’t keen to repeat.
“And if anyone asks-“
“There is nothing to tell,” you finished. Quickly, you reached to the side, picking up your coffee and downing it in one, before you reached out, returning the cup to Chris. “I…thank you for putting my mind at ease.”
“It…was my pleasure,” Chris answered, more automatically than with intention. He had expected the conversation to continue, but you left suddenly and he was alone once more, with only the second mug to remind him of your presence.
It was a few minutes after your departure that he found himself laughing, both cups returned to the replicator so they could be returned to their atomic forms, ready for next time.
“Christopher Pike, I hope you know what you’re doing,” he whispered to himself, before returning to the bedroom. The coffee should have made him awake, but he relaxed him instead; or the conversation did at least.
Nothing had been put into words; nothing formal had been signed or agreed. All that had happened had been a joint acknowledgement of something that might happen, and an awareness that the future was now allowed to be written. It was enough for the moment, and though it was teetering on the edge of breaking the rules, it was on the right side of safe.
Still, it was a dangerous decision; the one he’d just made and it continued to play on Chris’ mind.
At least until he called forth the memory of your smile; the memory of your laugh, and realised that he wanted to see more of both.
He truly did.
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Sexiled (Part 16/23) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader ~ College!AU
A/N: Hello my lovelies! Happy Monday. I hope everyone is doing alright and staying safe and sane. 
So I am excited (but also sad) to say that Sexiled is almost complete. I have the next few parts basically ready for posting. And I should have the story completely written and edited in the next few days. Once I have everything done, I’ll schedule the remainder of the story and I will update the masterlist with the scheduled post dates so you can keep an eye out in case tumblr is eating my notifs. So for now onto the story. 
Summary: Girls night and subsequent studying with Steve. Are your friends ever going to figure it out? 
Characters/Pairings: Steve x Reader, Natasha, Wanda, Skye
Rating: T
Warnings: Language. Feels? Fluff. 
Word Count: 1487
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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After an exam, turning in your final writing assignment, and completing your last two labs of the semester you were practically skipping back to your room. Most of the doors on the floor were open as people packed to go home for Thanksgiving. You could hear the laughter coming from your room from the elevator.
“I can’t believe you started the party without me,” you announced before you walked in.
“We didn’t start anything,” Skye called back.
Wanda and Skye were on your bed, and Nat was standing on hers trying to string up the last of what looked like eight strings of fairy lights.
Wanda started to get up, but you waved her off, stowing your bag under your desk.
“Nat, what are you doing?”
“The lighting in this room sucks. And you said you liked the little strand that I had on my wall. So when I found these for cheap I figured why not.”  
“And eight strings doesn’t seem like overkill?” you teased.
“Oh be quiet. Hurry up and change. Sweatpants are mandatory.”
“Okay, okay.”
You quickly went to the bathroom to change into your favorite sweatpants and Steve’s hoodie. When you came back Natasha had gotten the last strand up and the room was illuminated only by fairy lights. It was very calming, almost magical.  
“Whoa.”
“You like?” Nat asked with a hopeful grin.
“I love.”
“Good,” Nat smiled as she sat on her desk. “Because I wasn’t taking them down. This took five hours.”
“Oh my god, Nat.”
You giggled and rolled your eyes as you crawled onto her bed.
“Worth it.”
“It’s perfect,” you agreed.
 A few hours later there were half eaten pizza boxes piled on your desk and you were laying with your head hanging off the edge of Nat’s bed with your legs against the wall.  
“What do you think the guys are doing right now?” Skye asked the room.
“Drinking whatever beer Tony smuggled in and playing video games,” Nat snorted.
“Somebody pass the Oreos,” Wanda called from her spot on the floor.
“Here you go,” Skye dangled the pack in front of her face. “Who’s got the Twizzlers?”
“Catch.”
Nat tossed the pack across the room and Skye caught it easily.
“Thank you.”
“So, how’s it going with Barnes?”
Skye’s smile turned soft as she dragged her knees up to her chest.
“It’s good. He’s such a good guy. It’s a nice change of pace from my ex,” Skye’s tone dropped and you stifled a growl.
She had told you all about Ward and all you could say was that he was lucky he didn’t live in the state because you would have gone and kicked his ass.  
“You guys are really cute together,” Wanda cooed. “He never smiled this much when he was with Dot.”
Skye blushed slightly, clearly pleased.  
“That’s because Dot was sucking his soul out of him,” Natasha grumbled.  
“He makes me really happy. And he’s easy on the eyes.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“Are you guys going to make it official soon?” Wanda asked softly.
“I think so. I mean, it’s still early, but it looks like it’s going that way.”
“See, y/n, that’s how it works. You like someone. You go out on dates and then start a relationship.”
You rolled your eyes nudging her shoulder with your knee.
“Oh really? I had no idea. Thanks for clearing that up,” you sassed, earning you a flick on the ear.
“Ow.”  
“Come on,” she practically whined. “You and Steve have been basically dating for months. You spend literally all of your time together. You’re even going home with him for Thanksgiving. When are you going to tell him how you feel?”
“Who says that I haven’t?” you asked coyly.
“Have you?” Wanda asked with knowing eyes. You had to wonder if she somehow knew. She was talented like that.
You considered fessing up.
“There’s no way,” Nat interjected before you could speak. “If she’d told Steve, they’d be together and insufferable.”
You shrugged. Skye was doing an admirable job of suppressing a laugh.
“I’m happy with where Steve and I stand. Isn’t that enough?”
Sweetheart that she is, Wanda smiled and nodded.
“As long as you’re happy. We just don’t want you to miss out on a good thing.”
“I appreciate that, Wanda.”
“But speaking of meeting parents,” Skye started, saving you. “Wanda. I heard a rumor that you’re meeting Sam’s parents this weekend.”
Wanda’s cheeks turned as red as her signature leather jacket. She and Sam had gone public a couple of days after his birthday and you’d been relieved you didn’t have to keep that secret for long.
“Yes. They’re coming up on Wednesday. They’ve invited me and Pietro to join them for dinner.”
“That’s going to be really nice.”
“I’m really nervous.”
“Don’t be,” you soothed. “They’re really nice. And they’re going to love you.”
“I hope so,” she sighed.  
The four of you stayed up talking until nearly five in the morning, so you didn’t wake up to meet Steve until after noontime. You watched him from the doorway to the study lounge, admiring his focus. When he noticed your presence, he lit up with a wide smile.
“Hey, sweetness.”
“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” You pushed off the wall and took his outstretched hand as he pulled you between his legs. “How was guy’s night?”
“It was fun. We played Call of Duty, and Tony managed to sneak in a couple six packs.”
You chuckled at Nat’s accurate prediction.
“What?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Nothing.”
“I missed sleeping next to you last night,” Steve admitted as you carded your fingers through his hair.
“I did too.”
“Did you have fun with the girls though?”
You nodded happily.
“It was a lot of fun. It was nice to have all of us together for once and just be able to talk. And being done with all the assignments was nice too.”
“Mmm. What did you all talk about?”
You smirked and shook your head. “That is privileged information. Girl’s night code.”
“Oh. Right. Very official.”
“It’s a binding contract. I’m sure you guys have the same.”
“Oh yeah. Of course. I can tell you that the guys did are really rooting for me to ask you out. For the most part.”
“For the most part?”
“Mhmm. Tony thinks you can do better.”
You chuckled, “I mean…”
Steve narrowed his eyes.
“I’m kidding.” You leaned down to kiss him tenderly. “You are everything I have ever dreamed of.”
He pulled you into his lap, touching your foreheads together.
“You are better than anything I could have dreamed of.”
“Did you tell them?” you asked after a quiet tender moment.
“I thought about it. I probably would have if they’d let me get a word in edgewise,” he rolled his eyes. “At this point I think they just like to hear themselves talk.”
“Wanda actually asked outright if I’d told you how I felt,” you admitted.
“Did you tell her the truth?”
“Didn’t get the chance. Nat said there was no chance. She’d think we’d be insufferable if we were together.”
“Is that right?”
“Mhmm.”
“They’re going to be so pissed when they find out,” he chuckled.  
“I’m looking forward to it,” you grinned kissing him once before extracting yourself and unpacking your books.
 You were taking a break between your Chem and Bio lab reports when Steve spoke up.
“Oh, I didn’t get to tell you. Erskine does remember me.”
“Really? How do you know?”
“I went to his office hours yesterday to ask about the atomic orbital stuff, and I was the only one there. So after he helped me, I decided to thank him whether he remembered me or not. He did.”
You smiled smugly.
“Told ya.”
“Yeah. Yeah. You were right. Anyways, he said he recognized me right away and he was glad to see me doing so well. He also invited me to see his lab after we get back from break.”
“That’s so cool. I’m so excited for you.”
“Thanks, sweetness.”
“Do you feel better knowing he remembers you?”
He hummed, shaking his head slightly.
“You know me well. Yeah. I do. He had such a big impact on my life. It’s nice to know that he cares as much about his patients as I hope to someday.”
You rested your chin on your hand listening intently as he launched into a rant about the need for compassion in medicine. After about ten minutes he seemed to realize he’d been ranting.
“Sorry, I.”
“You’re going to be such a good doctor.” You surged forward, cutting off his apology with a kiss. “Do not apologize. You are so hot when you talk about the things you’re passionate about.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked with a smirk, waggling his eyebrows. “You must love when I talk about you.”
“You certainly won’t catch me complaining,” you agreed.  
~~~~~~~~~ 
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy. 
Tag Lists are Open please send an ask. Strike throughs didn’t work
Sexiled Tag List 
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aion-rsa · 3 years
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From Battle Beast to Titan, The Invincible Rogues’ Gallery is Taking Shape
https://ift.tt/eA8V8J
As its blood-splattered title card makes clear, Amazon Prime’s Invincible is quite a bit more intense than other animated superhero shows.
Adapted from Robert Kirkman and Cory Walker’s comic series of the same name, Invincible takes place in a stylized, yet realistic world where superpowered punches have real consequences. It’s rare that an episode goes by without our titular young hero getting drenched in blood, whether it be his own or some poor villain’s. 
Despite Invincible’s commitment to the violent bit, however, the show still does have quite a bit in common with its more all-ages animated peers. The series animation from Wind Sun Sky Animation studio is based off of comic illustrator Ryan Ottley’s art but it also harkens back to a golden era of superhero animation.
The character designs, with chiseled jaws, chunky limbs, and very deliberate movements is highly reminiscent of ‘90s Warner Bros. Animation classics like Batman: The Animated Series, Superman: The Animated Series, and Justice League. And just like those earlier series, each episode of Invincible thus far has proven dedicated to introducing interesting and novel villains for its hero to confront. 
There’s an old adage about superhero stories that a hero is only as good as its villain. That might be oversimplifying things a bit as Batman, Superman, Invincible, and the like are all pretty interesting figures on their own. Still, the animated series surrounding these heroes always know how to put a compelling villain to good use. Batman: The Animated Series in particular built up the Caped Crusader’s impressive rogue’s gallery and each new episode was a treat for viewers in guessing which villain would take center stage. In fact, the all-time best episodes of that series were often great due to the deployment of its villains, like in the beloved Mr. Freeze installment “Hear to Ice.”
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While Invincible is only five episodes into what will hopefully be a long run, the series has already proven to be particularly adept at introducing colorful villains to challenge Mark Grayson as he trains to be a superhero. Now that we’ve crossed the halfway point of Invincible’s eight-episode first season, let’s take some time to examine the young hero’s rogues’ gallery. 
The Mauler Twins
The Mauler Twins, voiced by Kevin Michael Richardson, are the very first villains introduced in Invincible. The Guardians of the Globe (R.I.P.) are able to put a halt to their assault on the White House, but not before the twins reveal their awesome strength. The Mauler Twins are an unusual combination of brains and brawn. First we see heavy machine gun fire bounce off of them like pebbles and then they embark on a very brainy mission for none other than Robot (Zachary Quinto).
The Mauler Twins are a consistent presence in the comic and their dynamic only works because neither of them knows who is the original and who is the clone. Their inclusion on the list is cheating a bit because Mark hasn’t crossed paths with them yet but he is sure to soon.
Titan
Titan, voiced by Academy Award winning actor Mahershala Ali, is the first great example of how Invincible will allow its villains to recur and evolve like Batman: The Animated Series’ baddies. Titan first pops up in episode 1, then he is essentially the main character of episode 5. There is quite a lot of depth to this rock-man as he tricks Mark into helping his criminal underworld coup, but he also seems to really believe he can make his city a safer, more equitable place. 
Kill Cannon
Kill Cannon (Fred Tatasciore) is an extremely minor villain in the Invincible comic. He first appeared as Atom Eve’s nemesis in her standalone comic before making his proper series debut in Issue #58. Kill Cannon arrives in the Amazon series much earlier and has already popped up again as a recurring villain. He seems to fulfill the role of a particularly easy training dummy for Mark to take care of. Unfortunately, all the other villains won’t be as simple.
The Flaxans
The Flaxans, an aliens species from another dimension, are the first baddies to really test Mark. Their lifespans are short in Earth’s timeline, but they are also tremendously capable of learning from their mistakes. Led by the hateful “Slash” (voiced by Richardson), the Flaxans embark on three increasingly successful invasions. Omni-Man appears to have wiped out their society for now but all it will take to rebuild is a handful of dedicated Flaxans. 
Doc Seismic
Every superhero story needs a good old-fashioned mustache-twirler and Doc Seismic (voiced by Chris Diamantopoulos) fits the bill here…despite having no mustache or even hair to speak of. Through his advanced weaponry and seismological knowledge, Doc Seismic is able to manipulate the earth around him. In our first introduction to him, he puts these powers to a surprisingly progressive use by attempting to blow up Mt. Rushmore and its depiction of “oppressors.”
The Doc did his undergraduate in sociology and women’s studies, with a minor in African dance as it turns out. Invincible and Atom Eve are able to dispatch him ease and he appears to fall to his fiery death. Of course, these kinds of villains normally don’t go down that easy, so it’s safe to expect seeing him again. 
Roarface
Roarface is an entirely new creation for the Invincible TV series and she gets only a very brief bit of screentime in episode 5. According to Amazon’s helpful episode trivia feature, Roarface was developed by comic illustrator Cory Walker and the collar she wears prevents her entire body from becoming a werewolf. Only her head succumbs to lycanthropy. 
Machine Head
Every superhero story needs a Wilson Fisk-style underworld crime boss figure. Invincible has one, it just so happens that his head is a machine, leading to the brilliant nickname Machine Head (voiced by Jeffrey Donovan). This villain loves Italian maple and is eventually usurped by Titan then arrested by Cecil Stedman. Machine Heads teleporting partner is named Isotope. 
Battle Beast
Oh yeah, now we’re talking. Battle Beast is a fan favorite of Invincible comic readers and TV viewers may now have a better sense of why. Battle Beast (voiced by Michael Dorn) isn’t so much an enemy to Mark Grayson as he is an enemy to everyone who crosses his path.
As his name suggests, this beast is really about battling. His real name is Thokk and he travels the universe looking for worthy foes to fight. Machine Head was able to lure him to Earth with the promise of a real competition. Unfortunately, he found Mark Grayson and the new Guardians of the Globe extremely wanting in this regard.
“This battle is beneath me. There is no honor in killing insects,” Thokk mutters before peacing out. Rest assured that Battle Beast will be returning to this series at some point…preferably once Mark has leveled up quite a bit.
The other villains who battle alongside Battle Beast in episode 5 are unrelated mercenaries who all fight on Machine Head’s time. They are: Furnace, Kursk, Magmaniac, and Tether Tyrant. The comics has a sixth villain involved in this battle named Magnattack, but Amazon’s episode notes indicate that production couldn’t fit him in.
Invincible streams every Friday on Amazon Prime.
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