#also i’m sorry for the lack of claire in this i promise i don’t hate her i just wanted to make a more found family centric edit 😭

[rebornrosess]

THE BEAR: and when i’m back in chicago, i feel it.

[nimmy22]

A Mistake: Chapter 5

"Our encounters will only end once I say so. Now, answer this. Why were you limping?" Wesker watched through his shades as she flinched when his hand came to rest on her injured leg. He found this development displeasing. Someone trespassed on his right to be the only one to hurt her, to use her, to kill her. And correction was in order.

"What's it to you?" Cara hissed, slapping his hand away.

"Wrong answer dearheart, let's try again." His hand found her leg once more, and this time he gave a not-so-gentle squeeze. He flashed his pearly whites with a smirk, watching her grimace and suck a sharp breath. "Why were you limping?"

"I fell... down some s-stairs and hurt my...leg," she cried, looking away from him.

Wanting things over quickly, she hoped he would lose interest and leave her be. Why would he even care if someone laid a hand on her? Especially when he was still wavering between hot and cold on whether to kill her or not. If someone killed her, then Wesker should consider it a time well saved. She was beyond confused by this.

"Fell? Are you sure?" Wesker frowned, removing his shades. Cara had no idea why he even wore them while presenting...indoors. They seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face, but at least he took them off in the rain. She mentally kicked herself for spending a second analyzing the fashion sense of a corrupt officer. It will certainly not prolong her life.

Wesker suddenly drifted closer to her face with scrutinizing eyes. "I suppose you also hit your head in the fall?" He said before putting pressure over the bruise on her head. The more she struggled to turn her head, the harder he applied the pressure. She cursed her cheap foundation for having melted off within so little time, likely exposing her bruise. The humid weather wasn't helping her situation either, aiding the cream to melt off her skin.

"Stop it! It hurts. Please, I answered your question. what do you want now?"

Not many dared to bluntly lie to Wesker, and those who did were now entertaining earthly maggots as a free buffet. The little girl lied to him without shame, leaving him with the urge to loosen his collar as his blood began to simmer. He had to restrain himself, not wanting to smash.... his shades.

"Do you take me for a fool? You forget you're still dealing with a cop, and I can certainly tell the difference between physical violence and injuries from a fall. I've dealt with countless domestic violence and child abuse cases. Now, answer the question before I rip off those pants to confirm." Wesker growled, punching the garbage bin centimeters from her head. She squeaked like a mouse, shielding her head with her arms, folding into a fetal position. Peeking through her fingers, Cara spotted the dent he left in the metal and audibly swallowed. He could crush her skull if he wanted to and why he has yet to do so is beyond her.

"Ok fine! It was...my...dad, h-he...hit me. Happy now? But whose parents don't bring out the belt every now and then? It's not that big of a deal." Cara slanted her body away from him and fidgeted with her sleeve. Until this point, she had never admitted to anyone what went on at home behind closed doors. Not even her closest friend knew a thing. But she was forced to disclose one of her deepest secrets to this bastard just because he asked her nicely.

"I see." Wesker stood up, pondering something for a moment before walking back towards the school doors. Pausing by the door, he spoke without looking at her. "Clean yourself up and go back to the assembly. Then after that, I want you to walk across the street to the laundromat's parking lot. You will wait there for me."

"Why?" Cara swallowed, a cold feeling creeping over her like a heavy blanket. Wesker didn't answer, as he was already gone, and she was met with the sound of doors slamming shut. With a sigh, she wiped her tear-streaked cheeks with her clammy hands.

Raising to her wobbly feet, Cara straightened out her clothes, doing her best to clear the dust. There was no way to reduce the puffy eyes. She decided to play it off as being devastated for the poor boy who ended up an overcooked steak.

She was definitely in over her head, but without a choice, she was forced to do what he wanted. He already knew pretty much everything about her, her home, school, and family issues.

--------------

"You sure you don't want a ride home?" Claire said, hugging her friend tightly and being a major cause for much discomfort. She somehow managed to touch all Cara's painful bruises all at once, completely unaware. The two stood in the school parking lot, finished with school for the day.

"I'm fine, Claire, really. I just had a weak moment. Don't worry about me. I just need to have a little walk with some thinking time."

"I can come with,"

"No!" Cara jerked back before realizing what she did. Claire blinked, staring at her friend with her mouth open. "Oh shit, sorry. I mean...I want to...be alone for a while. You should go annoy your brother at work. He'll appreciate that."

"Are you ok? You're acting weird, not just today but this whole week. What's going on?" Cara felt more beads of sweat forming on her forehead with each question Claire asked. She needed to get away before she said something she shouldn't have.

"I'm fine, I swear. You're just reading too much into things." Cara said, backing away from her friend.

"Cara!" Claire called out, watching Cara hurry across the street. "What the heck is going on," she wondered aloud.

Claire was about to follow her when a hand roughly grabbed her shoulder. She spun around, ready to snap the fingers of the fool who dared grab her in such a manner.

"Miss Redfield, great seeing you." Wesker greeted her, his grip on her shoulder unmoving. Her eyes widened as she recognized the fool being her brother's boss.

"Oh...Captain Wesker. Um...Great presentation." Claire said, trying to shrug out of his hold. He let go, but very slowly. She didn't know why he was interacting with her this long. The most she ever got from Wesker was a nod or asking where Chris went after abandoning his desk for half an hour when he should've been doing paperwork. The answer was tacos she made herself and brought to the station for Chris.

"Thank you. I'm just hoping at least a few students will hold onto my words." Wesker responded, discreetly watching through his shades as Cara disappear from view. He simply couldn't have a foolish Redfield ruining his plans. "So where are you headed off to?"

"Uh... I was just about to head home," she said, pointing her thumb over to her motorcycle.

"Drive home safely. Wouldn't want your brother distracted on the job now, would we?" They both knew Chris would get distracted regardless, but she didn't like his tone when talking about her brother.

"No, of course not," Claire gave him a sweet smile, flapping him the bird behind her back. "Have a nice day, Captain Wesker."

"You as well, Miss Redfield." Wesker walked away, heading across the parking lot to his cruiser before driving off.

With a long sigh, Claire looked back to the direction her friend had run off to, but she was already long gone. Claire groaned, promising herself that she was not about to let this go. She owed Cara to be a good friend and help her sort out whatever she was going through. The next time she saw Cara, they were going to have a very good talk.

-----------------

Cara stood in the parking lot of the laundromat, fidgeting with the zipper of her jacket. The little piece of metal was already bent in two places from her abuse. She was alone, the place had closed down months ago, its owner was an elderly lady who passed away. She had no children to inherit it, and so the place had to shut its doors. It would make sense why Wesker would want to pick her up here. Students had no reason to crowd this property, having a plaza on the other side of the road abundant in fast-food joints and an arcade.

The temperature hadn't changed drastically since the morning. Yet, she found herself shivering in her jacket and hugging it closer to her body. Her eyes kept darting about, dreading the imminent interaction. She hated the waiting, but she didn't want to find out what he had in store for her.

Wesker drove into the parking lot, eyes zeroed in on the pitiful creature shivering alone and looking misplaced. Good thing he was here to 'help her out.' He thoroughly enjoyed how she nearly bolted upon spotting the car. He stopped next to her and waited.

Cara waited for him to emerge from the car or to roll down a window to tell her what he wanted. He did neither of those things, and so she shut her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath and reaching for the door handle of the passenger seat. Still saying nothing, she slid into the seat before shutting the door as hard as she could. Between them, the air freshener swung back and forth with greater momentum charged by the thick atmosphere.

"So nice of you to find the time for me, dearheart. I am flattered."

"Of course, With whom else could I see myself spending time?" she didn't bother asking where they were headed, knowing how far questions seemed to set her back with him.

They pulled up to a simplistic two-story home, its lawn cleanly kempt but lacking any other colorful vegetation. She couldn't help but think it was the end of the road for her when the garage door sealed shut behind them.

Leaving the car, he walked into the house, depositing his keys on a bowl by the door. Cara followed close behind but far enough to dodge an attack, or so she hoped. Walking by the deposited keys, her fingers itched to grab them, make a run for it, but her brain didn't feel like making the deadly mistake so soon into the day or... week. Biting her bottom lip, she followed him into the living room.

Like the outside of the house, the inside lacked color, instead opting for white and shades grey. All in all, it looked like the kind of place that will get very messy if someone were to get murdered in it. But that didn't put her at ease. She still had no idea what he wanted.

Cara's fingers were inches from touching a plain white vase when Wesker finally spoke. "Welcome to my home."

She snatched her hand back so fast, her shoulder almost popped out of its socket. She opened her mouth several times, but nothing came out.

"You...live here?" Finally, she managed to form a few words.

"I do not like repeating myself, but yes, I live here. Stay here. I will be back." Wesker left Cara in the living room, making his way upstairs. Passing several doors, he came across one that streamed a golden light from beneath. Knocking three times, pausing, and then twice more, he waited for the response. He smiled, hearing the sound of four subsequent knocks and a scratching sound. This was their code, a living memory of his army days.

The door opened and smiling up at him was Sherry. He accepted her into his open arms before picking her up. "Your back, uncle Albert."

"Yes, and I brought you a really nice present."

"What is it! ...a puppy?"

"No, try again."

"Is it a dinosaur? A game? A dress? A book? Is it edible?" Sherry filled her bubble with guesses, eyes twinkling. She rubbed her hands together as if the friction could make the surprise appear faster. She had been alone all day and bored out of her mind.

Wesker shook his head at her simple thinking but enjoyed her expressions.

Walking into the living room, Wesker felt Sherry's gasp shake her whole body. "Cara!" the little girl squeaked before jumping out of the older man's grasp. She raced to her babysitter, unable to believe her eyes.

Cara's expression transformed from a scowl to a tender smile upon noticing Sherry, eyes brimming with tears.

The little girl snuggled against Cara, relishing the comforting scent of her friend. Truly, she thought she was in heaven. "Thank you, Uncle Albert! This the greatest surprise ever!" Sherry beamed at her uncle, half her face smushed against Cara's chest.

"And it gets even better. Cara agreed to come play with us every day right after school." Wesker burst Cara's bubble with a rusted pin, killing all hope of escape.

Cara's smile immediately fell. She shot daggers at the older man who merely took a seat on the couch, legs spread wide apart as he rested his arms over the back of the couch.

"Really? I can't believe it! I am so happy. We can do so many things, Cara, not just on Friday nights."

"Y-you can't-" Cara stuttered, struggling against herself to end the happiness of a little girl. To Cara, disappointing Sherry was a terrifying thing, especially if she the very cause of it.

"Why don't you take her to play in your room?" Sherry was already leading Cara before the dirty cop finished his sentence.

"Wait, Sherry. You go on up, and I will um...come to play in a few minutes. I just need to talk to...Uncle Albert for a sec." Cara spat his name.

"Ok!" Sherry said, bouncing on her feet, and ran upstairs. Once the little girl's giggles grew distant, she turned to Wesker who was already watching her with the eyes of a lazy predator. His shades sat in front of him on the coffee table, neatly folded.

Cara couldn't help the tingling shiver as he watched her. She gathered her courage and stood up straight, forcing her nerves down before speaking, "What if I don't want to continue the job?"

Wesker laughed at the ridiculous proposal.

"And break the poor girl's heart? She has consistently asked for you every day, more so than for her own parents. Where is Cara? Is she ok? Can I visit her?"

"Stop using her against me! I don't want to get involved more than I already have with you."

"Sherry experienced horrible things that night, all because of who her parents are. So, if she wants her delicious babysitter back, then she will have her back. Simple." Wesker knew which buttons to press to get her to do exactly what he wanted. The fear factor wasn't everything, and it wouldn't last long. He knew she loved his niece like a little sister, and he will use that to secure a tight collar over her neck.

'A delicious babysitter.' For some reason, these words stood out to Cara, and she found herself unable to formulate a coherent sentence, feeling the temperature of the room rise rapidly.

"But why does it have to be here? In your house?"

"As much as I support my dear friend William, he can be a little too preoccupied with his work and often becomes disengaged from the outside world. He forgot to call anyone to fix the damages, and so the house has yet to be repaired. Until it's ready, Sherry will stay here, that is unless she chooses to stay indefinitely, which I don't mind at all. It's always too quiet around here."

Seeing no way out of this, Cara begrudgingly walked upstairs, defeat weighing down her steps. Her mood brightened a little while playing with Sherry, but she couldn't put her whole heart into it. Her choice was taken away, and she couldn't live with that. But in the end, she had to be grateful as this was still better than being murdered and stuffed into a dumpster or buried alive.

For now, she will do her best to make Sherry happy. The little girl has been through a lot already.

----------------

Hours later, Cara stood in front of the sink, swirling the cool water in her glass before gulping it down. She was halfway through the water when she felt something warm, soft, and feather-like touch the back of her neck. She spun around to see Wesker walking away, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. She barely registered the icy water spilling on her clothes as she realized what happened. Her stomach weaved knots, pulling them too tight to undo.

Wesker had kissed her neck. And then he just walked away as if nothing happened. This had to be the strangest trick her mind could play on her. Or was it? There was simply no way a man like him will ever be interested in her. Never.

It felt like a terrible joke, and yet, she found her hand touching her neck, a rosy blush making its way.

[simptasia]

lost characters based solely on how i portray them in my text post memes

jack: constantly crying and/or screaming. no emotional stability. no social skills. terrible bedside manner. endearingly bland. into powerful women. loves the red sox... a lot. daddy issues. doesn’t believe in himself. has shitty tattoos. being crushed under the weight of everybody’s expectations. more or less hot. he is not cool at all. repressed attraction to guys. chronic hero syndrome. adorably embarrassing as a dad. passionately and violently overreacts to the mere concept of people believing in things. mansplains but in a non malicious way because he is literally that oblivious. gets into fights a lot. dissociates in mirrors. gets injured a lot but doesn’t wanna make a fuss. thinking about caves

kate: desperate need to protect women. bi. is frustrated by jack and sawyer’s personalities but wants to fuck them oh so much. rowdy. feminist. biceps. will call you out. is love with claire and jack and sun and- she has a lot of love to give. she can be ur angel or ur devil. exasperated. doesn’t understand astrology but she’s trying. she’s the slytherin friend every hufflepuff needs. uses guns. doesn’t know how to cook. go to relationship advice is “dump him” or “suck his dick”.  just because you put things in her vagina doesn’t mean you know her. gemini

hurley: sad clown. haha laughter! hiding real pain! has debilitating mental illness. he’s doing his best to stay positive. virgin. genuinely kind soul. overwhelmed by food. awkward around girls he likes. much smarter and wiser than anybody thinks, including himself. a special boy who we all love. says dude a lot. the only valid rich person ever. doesn’t like himself. sees dead people. kinda silly. also he’s fat (but i don’t joke about it in a cruel way)

sawyer: compulsive need to nickname people. from the south. bewildered by charlie’s english slang. covering up vulnerability with jokes and being mean. loves juliet. is an asshole but a loveable asshole (this varies, mostly he’s an asshole). conventionally attractive to the point of boring. got a Thing going on with miles. can’t stand daniel being smart around him. babies freak him out. treats animals poorly

locke: very supportive and new agey type. i’ve made two jokes about him encouraging people to jack off, that wasn’t on purpose but Okay. he doesn’t know what its like to have friends. he says Deep Sounding but odd things. he’s super duper into nature. he suffers. he’s very forgiving of ben to the point of absurdity and he desperately wants ben to love and fuck him. or maybe they are fucking. Who Knows. he loves knifes

sayid: sexy, suffering shannon fucker. he doesn’t respect boone. his life is an endless parade of misery culminating in going on autopilot. respects women

jin: he has no idea what’s going on and his life revolves around sun

sun: beautiful. perfect. very passionate about gardening

claire: bi. frequently ignored. cutesy and sweet. super into astrology and new age stuff. her cheery demeanour can only hold on so long before she loses it. kinda dumb. has baby. vanilla, at least for now. loves charlie but is kinda frustrated by him. goes feral and “kitten thinks of murder all day” sums it up

charlie: that he needs attention and validation to survive would be a gross understatement. bi. trans. punk. stupid. english. really horny and slutty. adores music more than anything. drug addict (again, i refuse to be cruel). severe jealousy issues. inferiority superiority complex. hates himself but will get offended if you hate him. can’t take any form of criticism. is bewildered by sawyer’s american-isms. bit of a madonna whore complex. smol but will go the fuck off like a terrier nipping at ya heels. catholic and riddled with catholic guilt. goofy and obnoxious and he knows it. passive aggressive. terrified of bees. nice ass. mood swings. did i mention he’s short? anyway here’s wonderwall

ben: ugly. just plain terrible. beaten and bruised. seething with rage and pain on the inside. virgin. liar. just causes problems on purpose. resembles a lemur or rat, rodents in general. loves bunnies. doesn’t think sex is real. just a really bad idea for him to be around juliet. has no friends. doesn’t care about other people. says creepy shit just because. he knows he’s a terrible person. killed people. the friend nobody likes and a general nuisance to the other characters

(also my literal first text post meme about ben was a joke about him eating his parents??? 2014 sapphire, i wanna talk...)

juliet: mom friend. seems very calm but she’s screaming on the inside. basically she’s the This Is Fine meme. depressed. has big tits. low-key kinky. feminist in a very gentle way. has no ill will towards kate and will only fight her for fun. concerned for daniel’s well being. has no chemistry with jack. loves sawyer. flat measured calm way of speaking. she’s breaking apart at the seams but will offer you a nice glass of water :)))

michael: has a son..... uh...... enjoys minecraft?

(i’m sorry)

desmond: scottish. drinks. easily and constantly confused. magic psychic time powers, like visions and electromagnetic dimensional stuff. easily angered. fucked off by the concept of time and destiny in general. hhhhhhhot

smokey: Hello Fellow Humans I Promise This Is My Own Skin Haha

miles: bi. aro. loves money (trying to fill the hole in his heart with money and things). emo/punk. pretends not to care but he really does care. thinks emotions and romance are dumb but of course is emotional... and kinda wants love. but not that he LIKES you or anything. exasperated. thinks everybody else is weird. kinda slutty or at least trying to be. masochist and into BDSM. mean to daniel for no reason. daddy issues. resting bitch face. jaded, bitter and salty. responds to romantic things dan or char say with vulgar or mocking comments. grew up poor. can hear dead people. trying too hard to be edgy. deadpan snarker. Fuck Off I’m Not Sad Don’t Look At Me [cries only around the audience and his mom]

walt: becoming older than 10 was when things went downhill for him

shannon: seems vapid but is more than that. deeply insecure. feels she can’t do anything right. constantly put down as worthless by other people. yeah she’s sad but she Looks Great. wants sayid to pound her (mood)

(gee, that was dark)

richard: very old and ageless. sees ben as a son figure. really not holding it together. seems smart but he has no fucking idea whats going on. cult mindset. quips curtly back at miles’ vulgar jokes. in love with miles based on very little interaction. misses his dead wife. has a cute giggle. is also hot. overwhelmed and just wants to go into the jungle and scream

frank: doesn’t understand what anybody is talking about. the only normal person here. doesn’t understand these kids today with their weird kinks. just wants to sleep. pilot. bit of a conspiracy theorist

boone: bi. stupid. soaked in blood a lot.  (L I T E R A L L Y all of my boone jokes are about him being dumb and bi and horribly injured and combos of those. i haven’t even made any incest jokes! what the actual fuck)

ana lucia: “[with tears in her eyes] DO U WANNA FIGHT??”. highly volatile. lesbian. bros with jack but will roast him. angery, sad and underloved

daniel: bi, agender, neurodivergent, just, just especially brain weird. The Scientist trope but kind of a shitty scientist. smart. in love with charlotte. in love with desmond. likes rats a lot. talks weird and soft spoken. withdrawn and polite but with bursts of bitterness. his mom won’t let him live the live he wants to live. time travel weirdness. loves music. gifted kid burn out. has a mental and emotional collapse. thinks a hydrogen bomb will solve all his problems. skinny. touches people a lot. he’s not okay. romantic. overwhelmed. memory problems. his lack of life experience and softness is used to contrast miles. takes some statements literally. pretty vanilla (for now) and doesn’t know what certain kinks are. likes that charlotte is Tough & Rowdy. doesn’t swear much. bad hair. was unhinged in college. has radiation poisoning

libby: neurodivergent and in love with hurley

eko: yeah... i’ve legit only used him for jokes where charlie says something EXTREMELY vulgar and eko says “go to church”

charlotte: bi, loud, passionate, beautiful, angery, knows All The Languages, huge nerd, loves daniel and thinks he’s a Snack, outspoken feminist, archaeologist/anthropologist and wants to explore some fucking ruins, The Lost Lenore trope, loves chocolate, exasperated, great smile, subtly insecure, doesn’t get that she could just tell daniel how she feels, has had many indiana jones like adventures (off screen, of course), for example: crashing her dirtbike into all 7 wonders of the world

danielle: french and unhinged, has seen some shit

alex: just a young lady with no chill

jacob: suffers from terminal apathy. has little understand of human behaviour. doesn’t care about people. he just plain sucks. has no endearing qualities. causes many problems. beats the shit outta richard. doesn’t like technology. so removed from humanity that he’s a touch uncanny valley

christian, eloise, charles and anthony jokes each have their own kind of flavours but fuck it, i’ll sum them all up as: contemptuous cunts who deserve to die

aaron: just a baby boy. does baby things. has like 5 parents

vincent: a dog. a good boy. does he know more than he lets on? is he mysterious? no, he is just a dog

[juleshq]

*  𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐠𝐨𝐬  here  and  do  i  have  the  tea  for  you  .  𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 is  back  in  bridgehampton  for  the  summer  ,  living  off  the 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐎 family  𝟐.𝟑 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧  net  worth  .  must  be  nice  to  come  back  home  to  the  hamptons  ,  i  wonder  what  her  fellow  class  of  2017  grads  think  of  her  return  .  you  know  ,  she  was  known  around  town  as  the  𝐂𝐎𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 and  for  bhs  senior  superlatives  pronouns  was  crowned  as  𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐕𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐒 & 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 .  i  wonder  if  that  still  holds  true  today  ,  a  lot  can  change  when  you  go  off  to  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 and  study  𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘  .  either  way  ,  i  bet  she  is  still  very  𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 , 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐃 , 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄  . hopefully  this  time  next  year  the  plans  to  𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 come  true  .  in  the  meantime  ,  i  look  forward  to  seeing  her  blast  𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄) 𝖇𝖞 𝐤𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐬  at  every  hamptons  function  .  it’s  going  to  be  a  wild  summer  home  ,  welcome  back  .

i  don’t  think  i’ve  EVER  been  this  excited  to  plot  and interact with a group of people ,  u  all  seem  like  such  beaut  ppl  &  i’m  in  love  already  but   i’m  a  little  . . .  intimidated  ADFJH .  anyways  ,  i’m  not  going  to  ramble  bc  i’m  ready  to  get  down  to  business  ,  i’m  sammie  &  i  go  by  she  /  her  pronouns  !  under  the  cut  is  a  long  bio  on  jules !  i  will  GLADLY  give  you  a  synopsis  on  this  chaotic  mess  pls  just  ask  ,  HERE  is  her  pinterest  board  please  ignore  the  sudden  amount  of  pins  of  just  her  , also  i’m  down  to  plot  here  or  on  discord  ,  my  discord  is  @ᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵈᵒˡˡᵃʳ ?#3246  

* / BASICS

full name: juliana kaia dicaprio

nicknames: jules , julie / juli 

age & dob: twenty-one , august 14th , 1998

place of birth: long island , new york .

sexuality: heterosexual ( that she knows off )

bender: cisfemale

* /  MORE BASIC INFO

languages: english, french, some spanish.

religion: catholic

education: high school , majoring in biology at stanford

occupation: unemployed

drinks, smokes, & drugs: all of the above

* / PERSONALITY

zodiac sign: leo

likes: dark chocolate , tea in the morning , white roses , instigating bad situations , wine , black coffee , the smell of freshly brewed coffee , talking with strangers , long travels , adventures , being called “ angel ” , popcorn , quick tex responders , products made with silk , athletes , crime shows / films , crowded rooms , glitter .

dislikes: fake designer bags , people who don’t know how to lie , f , people who wear pearls regularly , long text messages , voicemails , men who are cheap , people who chew with their mouth open , humming ,  thrift shops , water-poof mascara , the smell of grass , extensive planning , and arrogance & stupidity combined .

bad habits: breaking promises to herself & others , not thinking before doing , fixating with her hair when nervous .

secret talent: juggling

fears: aging terribly , being widowed , drowning , being buried alive .

positive traits: alluring , convincing , affectionate , ambitious / devoted , systematic .

negative traits: manipulative , conniving , deceitful , dishonest , subjective .

* / APPEARANCE

tattoos: dagger on right index finger , “ devil ” on left index finger .

piercings: three in each ear , cartilage .

* / FAMILY INFO.

parent names: claire boucher & david dicaprio .

parent relationship: divorced .

sibling names: annalise , ashton , keller , & wade .

sibling relationship: step siblings & half .

children: none .

pets: 2 family dogs on her moms side.

* / BIOGRAPHY

i’m sorry it got long

             𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐑’s entire childhood was spent in the spotlight -- her father was a huge rockstar in the 70's & 80's, and her mother a model . Claire spent her childhood between Florida , California , and New York , attending red carpets , premieres , etc. Claire attended Stanford to obtain a bachelor in science but was in and out of modeling in her teens and early twenties .

            𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐎  lived an affluent life more under the radar . His grandfather is CEO of JD banking , one of the four largest banks in the world . He attended Princeton as the rest of his family did . He got involved in the company business at a very young age as did his brothers , but went on to become the new CEO after his fathers unfortunate passing in 2002 .

            𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 was and will forever be her parents pride & joy . her parents were high school sweethearts & got married young -- at a twenty-two / twenty-three . they had been trying for two years to start their own family but jules’ mother struggled . thanksgiving in the hamptons , a dicaprio family tradition the day is engraved in her mothers memory , in 1997 , they announced to their family that after years of trying , they were pregnant .

            𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 grew up completely pampered ; bi-weekly trips to the nail salon with her mother and annual father-daughter trips . her mother was her best friend until she began morphing jules into what she thought was perfect . making sure she spoke at least one other language , was active in school , extracurriculars , how she presented herself . her mother cared about image due to her own childhood of growing up in the spotlight . besides the near brainwash to fit her mother’s image of perfect , everything was ideal &  ‘ normal ’ up until the summer before her freshman year of high school . her mother discovered the affair her father had been having for months with a woman he did business with . he claimed it was due to the fact that jules’ mother had returned to some normalcy and wanted to work again , modeling and doing some traveling , therefore he ‘ just missed her around ’ . jules was aware of everything going on  , heard the countless nights they spent arguing in the opposite wing of the house , she picked up on her father being late to family dinner because “ he had work to do ” . her parents tried their best to keep her in the dark for the sake of her sanity , innocence , and view on her father . jules went along with it all , the daddy’s girl in her was in denial for all of the months leading up to their divorce . at the end , her mother got full custody of her .

             𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 came two “ yes ” parents . everything became a competition between the two , trying to one up the other ; who took jules on the better summer vacation , had the most over the top christmas morning , etc . it  was insanely manipulative & jules there wasn’t a time period where jules felt more alone ; not having a sibling to relate to , she was embarassed to tell her peers the real reason why her parents split , it was so cliché . both parents didn’t take too long to remarry , her father found another stay-at-home wife and her mother lucked out with a lawyer ten years older than she . her step-father had two daughtes & son with whom jules hated in the beginning – it  was a lot to take in and she was used to being the only child . her father went on to have a child with his new wife two years after their marriage . it was all an immense amount of change within seven years .

              𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 for jules had been constantly changing since the news of her father’s affair , she’d spend her summers & holiday’s going back & forth between each parents in the hamptons until her father moved to calabasas to be closer to his wife’s family as soon as the baby was born . jules had always been a wild , reckless child at heart and the divorce between her parents only allowed her to push her limits even more . the two-three years her parents spent processing their divorce were her golden years -- she could not get in trouble with her parents and they never got upset with her . she took advantage of it all and abused drinking , hanging out with boys , you name it . she loved the attention she received from any male figure -- it made up for the lack of attention she was getting from her father once he got the boot .

              𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄 was where jules found her safe space ; she could be her wild self , far away from home and only a five hour drive from her father that she still rarely sees . she joined a sorority , joined the exec board , was forced to join french club by her mother , all while maintaining a 4.08 gpa .

           *  ` 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄 jules has always been a wild child . she’s always had a desire for attention , all eyes & attention on her , though the B I R T H of her uncontrollable desire for attention from males stemmed after her parents divorce . the lack of attention from her father allowed her to realize her dad wasn’t the only one who could spoil her & every man was basically the same . she’s not super close with either of her dads at the moment and sees her father about three times a year , two of which are holidays & every now and then the spontaneous visit from him in cali .  

          𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 is a h u g e  cry baby in the sense that she hates not getting what she wants . its not on purpose most of the time , it’s the way she was raised and the nature of her parents . she’s never had to ask for anything twice & hates doing so . though she’s a huge cry baby , she will try her best to mask her actual tears . she does a good job of seeming innocent , she’s that one friend that is super sus & lies a lot & keeps secrets but somehow is so good at convincing people other wise ? she’s a huge flirt , even when she’s not doing it on purpose , it’s sort of a weird practice or habit she’s grown into ? she feels empowered in the weirdest way of owning men and being able to form their opinion of her for them , this stems from her newly founded daddy issues  it’s more so due to the fact that her relationship with her father began to diminish once he moved out . she is & has been on her “ fuck love ” rampage .

       𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 do whatever she wants and will hide her bad intentions . she lives for chaos , loves enjoys pushing limits & boundaries . she loves a game of cat & mouse / teasing just knowing she has someone in her grip is what helps her sleep at night . she is a bit crazy . . .  the type to watch someone’s snap score go up . def that type to block and unblock someone 238473 timES . she has an underlying need of approval from others and she almost needs to be liked by everyone she meets .

     𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 she wants to model & be a playboy bunny BUT her dad would literally disown her if she didn’t follow her family legacy and attend stanford or yale to use her brains for good . she’s in school to be a pediatrician because at the end of the day she loves children and always wanted to seek a job in the healthcare field . she has plans to attend yale’s medical school after her senior year is complete at stanford .

i really based her off of american beauty & angela in the movie ( if you’ve seen it omg ily ) g

[dopescotlandwarrior]

A Hero Among Us-Chapter One

On AO3

Chapter One

Claire pushed herself up from the mattress and wiped her nose. The skin was tender and burning from days on end of crying since her husband died. He was buried one week ago and her life had become intolerable, more so every day. The coalition of wine growers was circling around her like vultures waiting to pick her apart. They would buy her property at ten cents on the dollar or burn her out, and they did not care which.

Claire paced in front of the windows of her parlor looking at grapevines as far as the eye could see in every direction. This was Frank’s dream, not hers, and she knew little about viniculture and nothing about running a farm. He had died too quickly to tell her much, a feeling that left her boiling with resentment. “You hateful man, refusing to prepare for your death was a sure way to make me fail.”

Claire was raised in the upper class of London society and enjoyed a refined lifestyle and social status granted by her family’s wealth. When she married Frank Randall, the son of a prominent family, he brought her to America and sunk eighty percent of her dowry on this piece of land in St. Helena California. The remainder was used to build a fine house, vines, equipment for wine production and labor for the first planting. The law allows a widow’s dowry equal to one-third the original but it was all tied up in the dirt she now lived on.

She walked outside to clear her head and ambled down the rows of vines, inspecting the large leaves and berry clusters. She had no idea when the harvest should take place or how she would find anyone to help her. On numerous occasions, she rode into their tiny town and tried to hire the immigrants who were looking for work but they refused her. She scanned the three hundred acres of vines and felt utterly defeated.

Claire walked into the enormous kitchen where misses Crook stood kneading dough for bread. The opulence of this room and others made her choke with resentment. Everything Frank did was grandiose, a symbol of his position and wealth. Up to his death, he had not spent a nickel of his own money and knowing he was dying he had not made provisions for her support. Claire felt the bile rising in her stomach and tried to clear her head.

“Misses Crook, I am riding into town to buy a chicken, hopefully, two. We need eggs and the chicken we have must be laying in the vineyard because I cannot find a single egg.”

Two chickens were in a sack tied to Claire's saddle as she made her way home an hour later. She was lost in her thoughts allowing a group of men on horseback to surround her. She recognized them as landowners in the area who wanted to force her off her land. They were getting pushier with their demands and Claire bit her lip and remained quiet hoping they would leave. One of the men pulled the sac from her saddle and shook it, allowing the chickens to escape into the fields. The men laughed and raced away from her, one of them fired at the dirt in front of her horse making it rear in fright. Claire was unseated and hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her. The horse galloped away.

Claire tried to pull air into her lungs and her restrictive corset made that impossible. She felt herself dying and panicked trying to reach the laces at the back. Just before she blacked out she felt strong hands pull her jacket back and an arm reach in to pull the upper laces. This continued until she could take a complete breath.

“There ye go lass, breathe deep and don’t try to get up yet. Yer safe for now. How far is yer home?”

“Not far.”

“Well, I ken that’s where yer horse is about now. Can ye get up yet?”

There was no ladylike way to pull this off she realized and accepted his hand to pull her up. She stood still until the dizziness was tolerable and then let go of his hand.

“Thank you, sir, you saved my life. I am very grateful. Have you seen two chickens running around? Those men let mine go and they are desperately needed.”

“If I had I would have eaten at least one, feathers and all, sorry to say. It’s been a few days for me mistress. Come, I will help ye home and then be on my way.”

Claire noticed the sun sinking into dusk and worried for her safety. She promised him some food and felt huge relief for the escort.

“I am Claire Randell, my vineyard is up ahead. And you are…”

“I am nobody named James Fraser. Pleased to meet ye, mistress.”

He explained how he came to America with the gold rush, funded by several tenants on his estate. He had worked tirelessly, however, he never found any gold before the money was gone. The only work was in the vineyards so he started walking.

“You poor man, I’m surprised you can even stand. Here I can walk faster, let’s hurry.”

Ladies in London don’t walk with purpose, they stroll, to let the world know they needn’t rush after anything. She fell into that pace quite naturally and now felt ashamed to force this huge man to take tiny steps.

“Come in James, let’s get you fed.”

Jamie looked at the huge house and started walking backward, looking in all directions.

“Thank ye, mistress, I will wait out here. Would ye like me to catch yer horse for ye? Is that him, grey dapple munching on some hardy vines?”

“Jesus Christ, yes, please catch her before she mows down an entire row!”

Jamie rushed into the barn and grabbed a scoop of grain to lure the beast away from the vines. He approached her speaking Gaelic just above a whisper as he held the scoop full of grain out to her. She startled at first, still scared from her gallop home but caught the scent of grain and changed her mind. Jamie kept talking to her stroking her neck and letting her nibble at the grain. She walked behind him to the barn and entered her stall gratefully. Her reward was the remainder of the scoop. Jamie looked around the impressive barn with four stalls for horses, hayloft above and storage space, a lot of it. Once he pulled the tack off the horse he returned to stand in front of the house.

Claire opened the door wide so the man could see misses Crook who ordered him to the table where his supper was getting cold. Jamie flew through the door not wanting to provoke this commanding woman. When he saw his meal he almost cried, there was so much there to eat!

Claire and misses Crook were not a minute behind him bringing their own meals to the table. Claire nearly dropped hers when she saw empty plates in from of the man. She looked under the table and on his lap and finally asked where his food went.

“Apologies mistress, I ate it.”

“Oh, let’s get you a little more then.”

She picked up his plate and returned a minute later with the plate piled high with dried beef, vegetables, potatoes, and bread. This plate would have fed her for an entire week but she wanted to demonstrate there was plenty of food here. While Jamie was catching Brimstone Claire ran into the kitchen and ordered misses Crook to make more food and quickly. She desperately wanted to hire this man to help her save the vineyard however she had little money to pay him. Until she sold the first harvest she would prove she could feed him.

“Do you mind if we join you, sir?”

Jamie shot up from his seat and bowed slightly saying it would be his honor. He looked around at the joining rooms, all large, sumptuously decorated and wondered where the lady’s husband was. He fancied the lady but kept his eyes down on his plate. She was speaking to him like it was a Sunday social which confused him. He decided misses Crook was her mother who referred to her daughter as, mistress. That was very odd. Why else would she be dining at the same table? Whenever possible he would look around him for the husband.

“Mister Fraser, may I speak to you about a proposition I have?”

“Of course, mistress.” Responding to her allowed him to look at her and he felt the air evacuate from his lungs requiring a spontaneous deep breath to restore him. He blushed and lowered his gaze.

“I would like to hire you, mister Fraser, to help me run the vineyard if you know anything about this type of farming. I have very little money but I will keep you fed and give you a cottage to live in that is safe and warm. I will also need help hiring workers when it’s time to harvest the grapes. Can you tell me what you know about vineyard management mister Fraser?”

“It isna time to pull the fruit yet, another three months for white and four months for the reds. You watch the sugars when the time is near, every day, early, at sunup. When the sugars rise you harvest the grapes as fast as possible. Extract the juice, add yeast, and put the juice in barrels to age for a few years. Or you take the fruit to the auction and sell it for the highest price possible.

Claire was stunned. In three minutes this man had summarized the answer to all her questions. The questions Frank refused to answer, to give her a fighting chance. Her eyes were wide staring at the strange man. When she could find her tongue again she spit out sentences without pre-thought and nearly gave him her complete life history. She was in a sense, begging for his help. After five minutes she closed her mouth, blushing fiercely at her lack of manners and feeling dread he would refuse her. She looked down at her lap.

“May I ask ye, where is yer husband?”

“Dead. Sorry, didn’t mean to skirt that issue.”

Jamie was too quiet for too long giving Claire the impression he would be leaving this very night. Try as she might to hold her tears at bay they spilled freely from her eyes and dropped into her lap. She held her linen napkin to her face in embarrassment and Jamie felt his heart melt at her sadness. She was so young, he realized, with a monumental task ahead she knew nothing about. Now that he knew she was a widow it clicked in his head that she is the landowner folks were talking about at nearly every post he passed. There was a general warning to stay away from her or face consequences. Jesus lass, yer in a hopeless mess and I wonder if ye even know it.

“Please mistress, dinna cry, I will help ye.”

Claire dropped her napkin and jerked her head toward him with wide red eyes. She smiled, and it lit up her entire face, the dining room, and the whole world that Jamie lived in. When he realized he was staring at her he dropped his gaze quickly.

“Come with me. Let us find you a suitable cabin to live in while you are here. There is one that is bigger than the others for the manager. That is you. Whatever you need for your home I will provide to the best of my ability. You have made all the difference in my life mister Fraser and I am so grateful. When we speak again, please be ready to discuss your compensation and the successful continuance of this vineyard. Do we sell the grapes or make wine, things like that.”

They were halfway to the cabins and she stopped abruptly and turned around. Her smile was radiant, her chest was heaving with excitement or exercise and her eyes latched onto his making his heart pound in his chest. “It has been a very long time, but I feel hopeful again. It is glorious!” She jumped up like a child playing and strode on toward the cabins.

“This is the biggest cabin and closest to the water pump. There are two buckets in each cabin and a small stack of towels. There is a small stack of firewood in the back and six enormous trunks that you are welcome to cut up. I believe the ax is sticking out of one of them.”

Jamie watched her in fascination. In their brief association, he had seen her get thrown from her horse, nearly pass out from her corset, cry with frustration at her horrible circumstances, and then brighten with relief. Through it all her impeccable manners and elegant carriage never wavered. He hated her, in general, for being British, for bowing to the monarchy that crushed his homeland. He would keep his distance and work hard for her. When the grapes were sold he would return to his home in Scotland.

When she bid him goodnight she hummed making her way back to the house. The sound made him feel happy. He closed the door to his cabin and put his back to it surveying the space that would be all his until the fall. It had been so long since he slept in a bed, had a fireplace for warmth, a door to lock, and fresh water right outside. He took deep breaths to lower his heart rate.

Jamie sat on his bed with a great sigh. The weeks of walking with little food or water had taken their toll, he was exhausted and the food was like a sedative in his stomach. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Muscles cramping, bladder painfully full, feet sweating from leather boots. Jamie rolled onto his back, momentarily confused about where he was. He remembered the night before and stumbled in the dark to the door. He walked quickly toward the back to relieve himself taking great gulps of cool crisp air. The sun’s rays were just breaking across the horizon and he watched as they raced across the land and eventually touched the grapes making them glow inside. He turned in a circle to survey the property and it was amazing. Aside from the level acreage, there were steep hills that were terraced with lines of vines. Perfect for the deep reds this region was known for.

Jamie owed his limited knowledge to the owner of the first Vineyard he worked for. The man took him under his wing when he saw what a hard worker he was. He taught him so much in the three months he was there. Jamie had enormous respect and gratitude for the man and felt his face turn hard and angry at the way it ended. He was run off the property when the wife was caught sneaking into Jamie’s hut. He had no idea she was there until he was yanked out of bed and run off the property in his bare feet. His boots and clothes were thrown at him like he was a common thief or the lowest human that lived. He started walking, shaking from the indignity, hurt pride, and sorrow for what the man thought now. Two weeks later he watched Claire get thrown from her horse. That was yesterday.

Jamie pumped water to wash his face and parts of his body he would dare. He felt better after that and walked the rows of vines inspecting for bugs and fungus. The plants looked remarkable. The Sassenach will have a very good harvest if they could just watch the sugars. The whole growing season came down to someone watching the Brix number which equates to the amount of sugar in the grape. Each type of grape was harvested at a different Brix rating. He had confidence the former husband had purchased a hydrometer. He would trouble misses Randell today for some paper to write all these facts down before he forgets.

Jamie was high in hills studying the plants when misses Crook came out with his breakfast. When she couldn’t get his attention she ran back for the bell. Jamie came down the slope at record speed making misses Crook put her hand to her mouth. The man must be part billy goat, she thought watching him.

“Here’s ye breakfast mister Fraser.”

“Yer Scottish misses Crook." How could he miss the burr his ears longed to hear? " How did you come to raise an English daughter?”

Jamie was so shocked at first he didn’t realize he watched the woman through slit eyes. He was very suspicious of this turn of events and thought to be on his guard.

“My daughter? Who might that be laddie?”

“Misses Randell.”

“No lad, I have managed the house of mister Randall for many years, and now I serve misses Randall in the same capacity.”

“How do you take yer meals with the mistress then?”

Misses Crook laughed and told him it was hard getting used to her unorthodox ways after her husband died. She would not be eating without misses Crook so she would either sit and eat or watch her wither away.

“They are British woman, how can ye serve them without poison?”

“Well, I ken it wasna mister and misses Randell that raised arms against the Scottish people or oppressed the traditions that were lost. A babe canna choose which country to be born in and ye’d do well to ken such.”

With that, she gave him a scalding look and walked away taking great strides to put distance between them. Jamie started out loving the sound of her burr and now he was just confused. Stay on task he decided, leave these wicked Brits to their own lives as they will perish in the fires of hell.

He inhaled his porridge and jumped back up the hill to continue his review of the plants. By lunchtime, he was done and beyond impressed with the hardiness and overall condition of the plants. He would have to ask the mistress where the vines were purchased.

For the rest of the day, Jamie went through each outbuilding to find what Randell had purchased for his wine business. There was twice the equipment he anticipated and wondered how shocked Randell was to be dying halfway through his first growing season. He was certain he suffered from that knowledge, why else would he not prepare his wife to take over in his absence. Jealousy, because she would live while he decayed in the ground. Wicked man Randell, glad yer dead. If Jamie had such a thought about anyone else, non-British, he would cross himself and asked forgiveness on the spot. Brits were not human to him and had no rights to decency or moral behavior. Like his father before him Jamie hated Brits.

The last building was locked so Jamie went to the house and knocked on the door. Claire pulled the big door open, walked outside, took his arm, and walked him back in. She led him to the dining room and told him to sit as lunch was being served. Jamie watched her help misses Crook bring plates of food to the table while she talked about her weird day.

“And then I turned around and there they were, looking at me like, well, where do we sleep? It was so odd but I am very happy we didn’t lose those birds and they are already fully feathered so just a few more months until we get eggs. Thank goodness.”

“Mister Fraser, why are you not eating. Are you ill?”

“Mistress?”

“You must eat so you can work hard and not fall over. C’mon, you cannot get up until all this food is gone.”

Jamie filled his plate while his mouth watered and his stomach growled. He was deliriously happy when there were plates of food in front of him, especially with the directive to clear them or be stuck there. He was very good at following orders, Claire and misses Crook watched him eat with widening eyes.

Jamie sat back with a happy contented look on his face that made Claire giggle. He smiled back at her despite his resolve not to. In fact, he would not extend any kindness to her at all now that he knew how badly she needed him. He shook his head at such ridiculous ideas. He could never be anything but nice and accommodating to her. She was a very special person. Fragile and vulnerable and…

“Mister Fraser!”

“Misses Crook?”

“Get about yer business!”

Jamie was looking around at the cleared table and absence of Claire. He must have been daydreaming and lost track. He was allowed to eat in the big house so he better be more conscious of his behavior while here.

“I came to the house for the key to the large outbuilding on the property. I am taking an inventory of equipment. Would you please ask misses Randell for it?”

Claire appeared a few minutes later and finished lacing up her boots before standing and announcing she was ready to go. Jamie walked toward her with a questioning look.

“Do ye plan to go with me, mistress?”

“I can’t wait to stretch my legs and have an adventure. Do you not want my company, sir?”

Jamie didn’t know how to respond to that so he motioned for her to go first and followed dutifully to the outbuilding. Claire opened the door and Jamie nearly fell over.

“By Christ, I had not expected so many barrels, and they’re new, can ye small the oak? What would make him purchase so much equipment if you dinna mind my askin.”

“He wanted my entire dowry sunk into this place so he kept spending until the money was gone I assume. Every acre, vine, outbuilding, house, barn, and all that is in them was purchased with my dowry.”

Jamie could not imagine how much money that would be or why her family would have to offer such for someone to marry her. She was so beautiful and cultured it was unfathomable to him. He looked at the neatly stacked rows of barrels and felt something strange in his stomach. It felt like excitement. What the hell was he excited about? He would help her put up a small portion of the harvest and set it to aging in one or two of the barrels, but for him to get back to Scotland the majority of the grapes would have to be sold.

He felt strange when Claire was nearby and decided solitude was best. He would speak to misses Crook about taking his meals outside, away from the prettiest eyes he had ever seen and away from his need to make her smile.

Jamie looked through piles of equipment and pulled out a hydrometer followed by a genuine smile.

“We have everything we need, well almost. Misses Randell, I need to tell ye somethin. Word has spread around these parts that no one is to work for you. Anyone who does will pay consequences.”

Jamie watched Claire’s face fall into sadness and he ached for her. He thought of only one way to ensure they had enough hands for the harvest but they had to act fast. Some of the men would be walkin.

“I don’t know how much ye know about Scots mistress but we dinna sit well with intimidation. If ye tell a Scot not to sit on that rock or pay consequences the first thing he’ll do is go sit on that rock. Ye ken? Ye need Scots to work the harvest and they’re aplenty in San Francisco but ye have to act fast. Can ye write to the paper there and place an add for Scottish immigrants who want to work? No tellin how long it will take them to get up here and ye may have to feed a number of men long before the harvest but I dinna think ye can hire workers that have been bullied by the coalition.”

Claire was pacing with hands on her hips. She was deep in thought giving Jamie some precious moments to look at her.

“These men cannot be intimidated you say?”

“Aye.”

“I trust you mister Fraser, implicitly. I will go write that letter and pray they come.”

She handed him the key to the outbuilding and turned in a swirl of skirts heading for the house. He had that feeling in his stomach again and grunted in disgust before returning to the plants to start pulling leaves.

By mid-afternoon, Jamie was lost in his thoughts pulling leaves from around the berry clusters to increase the sun that hit them. Large crowded clusters were thinned by dragging his hand down knocking the grapes off. It was California growers who first started thinning the clusters to push more robust flavors into those that matured. When he heard Claire’s voice he almost jumped out of his skin.

“I’m sorry mister Fraser,” she said giggling.

“It doesna sound like it mistress,” he said smiling at her.

“What are you doing?”

“Ye see how big this leaf is? If there are too many around the cluster the sun canna get to the berries and the sugar will suffer. Ye need to leave the very top leaves to protect the cluster from the mid-day sun, but the sides should be free of shade for morning and afternoon sun, see?”

“Why are you knocking grapes to the ground?”

“That is to thin the clusters for the robust flavor this region is known for.”

“I am so grateful to you mister Fraser for teaching me!”

She put her hand on his arm and seemed unaware she was doing so. Jamie didn’t move a muscle and hoped for a few more seconds of contact before she let go. She walked away smiling and he wished she never had to leave him.

“Like this?”

Jamie turned around to see Claire on her second vine. She indicated her handy work for him to check and he smiled at her.

“That’s perfect. Look at yer hands mistress, maybe rub your fingers across yer cheek. They are soft are they nae?” He watched her nod her head. “If ye keep doing that yer fingers will feel like this.”

Jamie rubbed his rough fingers across her cheek making her blush fiercely. She turned her back to him and continued working on the leaves.

“I doubt my fingers could ever feel so rough mister Fraser so I intend to continue this work for ten more plants.”

Jamie was in his head after touching Claire. Canna you see what ye do to me lass, he thought. Ye get my head thinkin impossible things, my guts shake with anticipation of somethin that will never be, and when ye touch my arm I canna move, in fact, I can barely breathe. So please go away. Just when he thought the situation could not get any worse, it did. She started humming.

[eclecticstarlightconnoisseur]

Edinburgh To Boston Chapter 8 - The Morning After.

Hello all, I am so sorry for the delay in posting this. It took a bit of time for all the corrections and rewrites that I had to do. I know some of you had read the preview but it has not changed too much.

I also want to thank everyone for their kind words and good wishes when I explained that things were delayed because my husband had taken ill.  He is well and back to himself.  I am adjusting to the new job and a little less crazy. A little I said.

I do need to thank two very special people @curlsgetdemgurls and @ladyviolethummingbird for being my betas on this chapter.  I don’t know what I would have done without them. They are the best.

I am not promising when the next chapter will be out except to say that it is underway. I dislike promising something that I can’t keep.

So without further ado, I give you:

Edinburgh to Boston Chapter 8 The Morning After

Jamie Fraser laid in his hotel bed watching the dawn slowly break over the frozen sleeping city. The sky underwent a metamorphosis transitioning from the inky black of night to the vibrant colors of the day.  Streaks of hot pink, vivid orange, and fiery golden yellow glowed in the heavens splattering across an underlying electric blue.  It was breathtakingly beautiful, so beautiful as to cause him to weep. But nothing could surpass the goddess who slept beside him. Claire. His Sorcha, his light.

Claire lay on her side, back curled into his chest. Their bodies fit well together. Each one piece of a puzzle when combined made a whole, a complete picture.

He ran his hands along the planes of her body becoming familiar with each dip and luscious curve. Her body, while thin and lithe, spoke of a woman’s sensuality. A hand drifted to cup that sweet round arse of hers.

Aye, plump and juicy like a fat wee hen.

He felt himself rouse just from the mere thought of her. She consumed him. The need left him wanting, needing. He knew he could take her again and again and it would never be enough.

Smiling tenderly, Jamie brushed an errant curl away from Claire’s face. Her hair, that glorious mane, spread out across the pillow a tangled, tousled mess. She would awake and be annoyed with it. There would be fussing, muttered obscenities, and futile attempts to tame it into some semblance of order. Chuckling, Jamie admitted that one of the things he loved about her (and truth be told, he loved everything about her) was her hair, as it truly represents who she is.  At times, she could be wild and free just like her curls. Most of the time she would confine her curly wig into a conservative bun. The reserved Dr. Beauchamp, her public persona. But, her hair would never stay in place. It always struggles to escape its confines and become free. He witnessed the wild and unrestrained side of his enchantress last night, giving and receiving pleasure without inhibition. She was simply magnificent. Jamie blushed at the thought of what they had done, hoping they could do that again soon.

Jamie yawned and stretched feeling each one of his vertebrae popping. He hadn’t slept much during the night. It was his duty to stand guard over his beloved as she slept. He was the Watcher of Her Sleep; The Guardian of her Dreams. Jamie snorted at himself.

“Becoming poetic are we, Fraser?”

He rolled his eyes at his own pretentiousness.

“Weel, if I’m becoming a poet, then she will be my poem.”

He grinned at the thought.

Eyes heavy and gritty from the lack of sleep, Jamie fought to stay awake. Wrapping his arms around Claire, he pulled her closer to his chest.  Taking in a deep breath, he inhaled her sleepy scent. Her fragrance comforted him allowing him to relax.  He settled himself spooning into her, back to chest, arse to groin, legs intertwined. The act while intimate soothed him. Jamie began to drift, feeling the pull of sleep and surrendered to it.

****************

The morning sunlight slowly crept along the floor clambering up the bed settling on Claire’s sleeping countenance rousing her from slumber.  Eyes squinting, she blinked adjusting to the harsh glare suffusing throughout the room.

“I should have closed those bloody drapes last night.”

Peering through narrowed eyes at the clock, it cheerfully blinked 9:43 AM. Claire attempted to shift to her side, wanting very much to return to sleep. This proved impossible as she was held in the steel embrace of a very large, very warm...very naked Scot. One arm wrapped around her chest, while the other came around her waist, tightening every time she tried to move.

“Christ, this is what it must feel like being caught in a bear trap.”

Claire chuckled to herself imagining Jamie as a great giant red bear. Jamie pulled Claire closer making huffing and snuffling noises into her hair.  

Falling into a deeper sleep, his arms became limp, the vise-like grip momentarily relaxed. Quickly, Claire changed position her head now resting on Jamie’s well-muscled torso. She centered her ear over his chest, listening.

Lub-Dub, Lub-Dub, Lub-Dub, Lub-Dub.

The sounds of the strong gentle beat of his heart hypnotic, serene. She felt content and safe surrounded by his arms, sharing a bed with him. Nestling closer, Claire became aware of a hardness pressing against her belly.

“Hmm, penile tumescence,” Claire, ever the clinician, mused “He must be in REM sleep.” She wondered what he could be dreaming about, hoping it was her.

******************

“Hello, Claire, I see you have taken a lover,” said a cultured English male voice. Tall and thin, he had the athletic grace of a tennis player. An attractive chap with an aristocratic face, he possessed dark wavy brown hair, and eyes of hazel flecked with honey. Attired in a three-piece brown suit, white button-down shirt, and striped tie, the figure jammed one hand into his pants pocket, cocked his head to one side, projecting a rakish air.

“Hello, Frank. Why don’t you go get stuffed? While you’re at it, get out of this bed,” Claire said her voice laced with anger.

Frank chose to ignore Claire’s request.

“He is rather large is he not?” Frank sneered. “Is that what appeals to you these days, Scottish barbarians? Are you having fantasies about being dominated that you need such a brute in your bed? I recall Joe Abernathy had you reading those dreadful novels. Ghastly, really. I can just imagine the title: ‘The Scottish Barbarian and the English Rose’,” he laughed contemptuously. “TSK, I always thought you to be a refined lady of gentle birth,” he said in a reproachful tone.

“Frank, you never took the time to know anything about me or what I needed or wanted. But Jamie does. Now get out of my head! Go away!”

“How sweet! Jamie, is it? Hmm, sounds rather boyish, doesn’t it,” The Englishman mocked.

“I’ll have you know he’s no boy,” Claire growled vehemently.  “He’s more man than you’ll ever be.  Jamie is kind, gentle, funny, supportive of me, and most of all he loves me. He is everything I could possibly want in a man — something you wouldn’t know anything about. I really don’t know why I am having this conversation with you.”

“You know perfectly well why Claire. You called me here to fuel your insecurities, your inadequacies. I am a figment of your imagination, your dreams. You only have yourself to blame.”

“You know you’re right.  I did call you here. It’s to tell you I am no longer the frightened, insecure girl you knew. You can no longer intimidate me or make me feel inadequate. I have grown emotionally, and I found my self-confidence  — no thanks to you.  I am happy and in love. Yes, I am in love with Jamie. So, why don’t you just bugger off? Oh, and do us both a favor, don’t come back.”

“I’ll be back Claire when you call me again.” The fetch faded into the gray mist of her dream-world.

*************

It was late morning and the sky became a dazzling azure blue, vast and limitless. The sunlight reflected off the whiteness of the snow giving it an even greater brilliance.  As the sun climbed higher, the reflection from the golden beams struck the sleeping lovers rousing them from the land of Nod.

Jamie woke first, finding Claire snuggled in his arms, head still pressed against his chest. He lowered his lips and kissed her lightly on the forehead. Her eyes blinked, as she slowly moved toward wakefulness.

“Good morning mo chridhe, did ye sleep well?”

“Yes, yes I did. And you? Did you sleep well?”

Claire hated lying to Jamie, but she was loath to start the day talking about her disturbing dream.  She would tell him everything...later.

“Aye, I did. Better than I have in a long time.”

Jamie bent forward and kissed the tip of Claire’s nose, letting out a deep sigh of contentment.

“Are ye hungry a leannan?”  

“Yes, famished. Aren’t you?” Claire looked up into his fathomless blue eyes.

“Aye, but what I’m hungry for is no’ on the menu.”

“I thought you would have had your fill of me last night.”

“Nah, never mo ghràdh.”

Jamie ran his fingers down the side of her cheek and along the sensitive skin of her neck. Claire shivered under his touch.  In return, her hand went to the nape of his neck and at feeling the soft curls, brought his head down to her mouth. His lips were soft and warm. She melted into his kiss; her heart fluttering in her chest.

“I could get used to waking up like this every morning,” Jamie said his bright blue eyes twinkling.

“So could I,” Claire whispered as she stroked the rough plush of his morning stubble.

His large hands caressed her back up and down before settling on her arse giving it a good squeeze.  

Claire squeaked.

“Ye ken, Beauchamp, it was torture watching ye walk away from me in yer scrubs.  I’d see yer sweet fat arse swaying seductively as ye walked down the corridor. It took all my self-control not to throw ye over my shoulder, carry ye off, and have my way with ye on the spot,” he grinned.

Claire looked up at him offended,

“My arse is not fat, Fraser! I prefer to think of it as Rubenesque. More voluptuous, than fat.”

“Call it what ye will. ‘Tis fat. Just how I like it.”

With that, Jamie gave said arse a loving swat and got out of bed.  He stood naked by the side of the bed stretching luxuriously. Claire did enjoy watching Jamie move. His movements graceful, belying the strength and power his body possessed. Bending down, he retrieved his robe and put it on.

“Why don’t ye take a bath while I order up some breakfast for us?”

“Alright, that sounds like a good idea.”

Claire slipped out of bed while Jamie held open her robe wrapping her snugly in it.

Claire walked to the bathroom, ran the water for the bath adding a bath oil and bubble bath called Romance to the water. The bubbles blossomed up like white fragrant clouds filling the air with the scent of roses, sage, orange, and rosemary as they dispersed. Claire entered the tub, slid down until she was covered in the sweetly scented foam to her shoulders.  

“Ahh.”

Sighing, she closed her eyes, enjoying the absolute bliss of relaxing in the water. The door opened and Jamie stepped in carrying two champagne flutes, the champagne, and the strawberries.

“Mind if I join ye, lass?”

“No, not at all.  There is plenty of room,” Claire looked up at him smiling.

Taking his phone from his robe pocket, Jamie put on some soft instrumental music, popped the cork on the champagne, poured the glasses, and placed a strawberry in each. Dimming the lights just a little, he removed the robe and joined Claire in the tub. Jamie moved with a natural elegance for such a large man, nimbly descending into the water without causing a wave or a ripple allowing them to face each other.

“Do ye no’ feel a wee bit decadent, mo chridhe? I’ve never done such a thing as this.”

He closed his eyes leaned back so only his head could be seen above the mass of bubbles and let out a contented sigh.

Claire giggled at the sight of him up to his neck in bubbles.

Jamie grinned and reached along the edge of the tub finding the champagne flutes and handed one to Claire.

“What should we toast to?” Jamie paused contemplating. “Ah, I have one. Here’s to a lady of grace, a woman of strength, a lass of astonishing beauty, and the woman that has captured my heart, Claire Beauchamp.”

Whether from the heat of the water, the nearness of Jamie, the effusive compliment, or all three, Claire’s face flushed.

Touching their flutes together, they sipped the champagne. When Jamie finished he retrieved the strawberry from his glass bit the bottom, causing the juice to flow freely.  Jamie ran the berry seeping its sweet-tart fluid over Claire’s generous lips, painting them a ruby red. He pressed the fruit to her lips teasing them apart with Claire accepted his gift.  She slowly chewed it all while her sultry amber eyes focused on him. A few drops of sweet liquid trickled out of Claire’s mouth settling onto her lips. Jamie leaned forward, eyes riveted on her mouth. His tongue swirled over her lips licking the nectar from them savoring the taste of the strawberry and her.  Her lips stained red were plump, sweet, and begging him to claim them.

“I would very much like to kiss you, Claire,” his eyes never wavering from her.

“I would like that very much,” Claire replied breathlessly.

Their lips met. His were soft, warm, with a hint of champagne. Hers were supple and sweet with a lingering taste of berry. Jamie's tongue quested across her lips seeking entry which Claire gave gladly. Their tongues met in a sweet caress, touching, stroking sending sparks and shivers through each of them. They broke apart resting forehead to forehead absorbing each other in through their breath.

“Turn around, I’ll wash yer back.”

Claire did as Jamie requested settling between his legs. Knees bent, Claire, rested her forehead on her thighs providing ample access to her back.

Jamie reached for the bath sponge. Soft and silky, he filled it with water adding the sweet-scented soap to create a rich creamy froth. He slowly began to massage Claire’s back, moving in circles working the foam into her skin. He lifted each arm, stroking up and down from shoulders to fingertips. Claire’s head rolled back falling against Jaime’s chest.

“Hmm, that feels so nice, Jamie.”

“Ye like it, a nighean? Why dinna ye rest yer back against my chest too?”

Claire willingly complied. Once more, Jamie loaded the sponge letting the soapy water trickle over her chest, between her breasts, and over her nipples. Slowly, unhurriedly, he brought the sponge down tracing a path down toward her belly. Claire made small mewling sounds deep in her throat.

“Move yer legs apart, lass. ”

The silkiness of the sponge contrasted with the pressure Jamie applied to her apex.  Claire began to shift and writhe in time to Jamie’s movements. Her mouth opened breath becoming shallow. She began to whimper. Claire placed her hand over Jamie’s adding to the already delicious sensation he was creating. Her lips moved not making a sound. A curse perhaps, or was it a prayer in supplication?

“Ye like this, lass?”

Jamie’s arousal grew, the need for her surging.  

“Yes.”

Claire began to squirm, twisting her body. She needed his mouth, needing to feel it against hers. She leaned in, their lips meeting giving him a soul-searing kiss, igniting a blaze of passion that threatened to devour them both

Jamie rose up with the water streaming off his chiseled body. He looked like Poseidon rising from the depths of the ocean.

“Mo ghràdh, I must have ye or die!”

Claire raised her arms up to him.

“Then have me.”

Jamie lifted Claire from the bath. She would be his Venus, nascent from the sea.  Her arms were wrapped securely around his neck; her face buried in his chest. His strength supported her, cradling her against him. In two strides, he moved from the tub to the vanity countertop. While one arm supported Claire, the other swept the counter top clearing it of bottles, tubes, jars, and soaps sending them flying across the room. He had no care for the shamble he was creating, no attention to spend on it. His breathing was rapid and eyes now dark with lust. He placed Claire on the cool marble countertop nudging her legs apart. Jamie came closer settling between them. He needed to touch her. He ran his hand down the valley between her breasts, across her belly, and resting on her hip.

Ah Dhia, her skin is so smooth, so soft. It shimmers like a pearl newly pulled from the sea.

His hand dropped between her thighs wanting, needing to touch her. The tender flesh of her thighs opening wider inviting his fingers to roam over the satiny skin.

“Kiss me, Jamie.”

Jamie licked his lips, leaned in claiming her mouth.

Surrendering to the driving force of his kiss left her breathless, and wanting. An aching tension grew between them igniting the flames of their lust.

Jamie spied the mirror behind Claire. Dripping with condensation, he swiped at it clearing the steam obstructing his view of them. He could watch; he could see what he was doing to her.  He didn’t think he could get any harder but the thought of watching made his cock so hard he didn’t think he could feel it anymore.

Leaning back on her arms, Claire spread herself wide in invitation. Jamie took his cock in hand and began to rub it against her sensitive tissue, making her moan.  He placed himself at her entrance and in one swift motion slid home.

Claire gasped at the sudden intrusion into her body.

“God! Jamie!”

“Lie back a nighean. I want to love ye thoroughly.”

Claire complied. Taking her legs he placed them upon his shoulders. His thumb moved to the center of her arousal, stroking building sensations of molten waves of pleasure through her. Joining to her in their heated flesh, he moved sliding in and out of her, watching himself.

“Look in the mirror as I take ye. See how I love ye.”

Claire craned her head, looking into the mirror she saw the ecstasy and agony of pleasure and passion across Jamie’s face. Struggling to find purchase, her nails grasped vainly at the slick marble countertop.

“Help me up, Jamie! I want to see us.”

A large strong hand supported her back allowing her to sit up; the other pushed her head down. Legs widely spread Claire could see him take her, watching him thrust into her, possess her. They became one.

It became more than she could endure. This was the most erotic thing she had ever done, becoming both participant and spectator.  Moaning loudly, her hips began to gyrate wildly. She could hear the thrum of her blood as it coursed through her body. She could no longer focus her arousal was complete.  There was only pure sensation, pure pleasure.

“Jamie! I can’t...I...I… Oh, God Jamie!”

Claire’s nails raked down Jamie’s chest leaving angry red marks in their wake.  She felt herself flood around him. Her climax shattering. Her Scot was not far behind.

“Claire! Oh, God! Claire!,”

Jamie shuddered spilling himself into her. He leaned forward biting her at the juncture of neck and shoulder. He trembled in the aftermath of their love. They clung to each other as they descended from the throes of their passion.

Jamie looked at Claire somewhat abashed. Helping her down from the countertop, he dampened a face cloth and offered it to her.

“Claire, I never...that is, I didn’t mean... Oh, Christ!”

Face flaming, he grabbed his robe and left the room; leaving Claire puzzled.

Have I done something wrong?

Claire straightened up the room, picking up the bits and pieces that had been unceremoniously thrown onto the floor.  Putting on her robe, she arranged herself into some semblance of order and walked out into the room.

Jamie was standing with his hands in his pockets staring out the large window onto the street below.

Boston was trying to dig itself out. Sanitation trucks with large plows attempted to make the streets passable again.  Merchants with shovels and snowblowers cleared their walkways from the mounds of snow. People slipped and slid on the sidewalk while others endeavored to walk around the piles of drifting snow with varying degrees of success.

Absorbed in his thoughts, Jamie saw none of it.

How could I treat her like this? What is wrong with me to use her in such a way? She must think me a beast or an animal.  I don’t deserve her.

Disgusted with himself, Jamie hung his head in shame and embarrassment, unable to face Claire. So deeply lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear her enter the room.

“Jamie are you alright? Please tell me what’s wrong. Was it me? Was it not good? I’m sorry.”

Claire bit her lip nervously. Frank had always made her feel inadequate in bed. She did not want to disappoint Jamie. She couldn’t bear it.

Jamie turned to look at her with eyes wide in disbelief. His voice soft, halting,

“Claire, what are ye talking about? Ye did nothing wrong, lass. It was me.”

His shoulders slumped and he had difficulty maintaining eye contact.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing to ye for my behavior. Or lack of it.”

He continued gazing at a place in the distance that only he could see.

“I dinna want ye to think, I mean I dinna want ye to feel that I only want ye for…”

Jamie waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the bed.

“Jamie, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You did nothing wrong. Why should you apologize to me?”

“Claire, my Da taught me that women were to be respected, revered especially ah, in sex. He said that when ye love a woman, ye should pay tribute to her body as it is her right. I dishonored ye, lass. What I did was selfish. I have no claim on ye. I am no’ yer husband. I did not consider ye. And for that I must beg yer pardon.

Jamie began to pace about the room, restless running his hands through his hair.  He turned facing Claire, “Christ do ye no’ ken how much I love ye?  Ye are the air that I breathe, the blood of my heart. Without ye, I am naught but an empty shell. Your face is my heart mo ghràdh and the love of you is my soul.

“Ye see I want this, want us to be more. I want something we can build on, grow with. No’ just some magnificent weekend and then we part. That’s not good enough, Claire. Not for me and certainly not for ye.  Ye deserve better.”

Jamie was stiff and rigid, fighting to control his emotions. He did not want to lose Claire because of one foolish mistake.

Claire was touched by his concern for her and her feelings. She walked around to face him, cupping his face in to get him to meet her eye.  Jamie resisted.

“Look at me, please. You did nothing wrong. I wanted you to.”

Claire spoke softly and tenderly.

“You make me feel beautiful, sexy, desirable, loved, wanted, safe. How can these things be wrong?”

Jamie turned looking at her, a single tear running down his face.

“Do ye mean it, Claire? That’s how I make ye feel?”

Claire thumbed away the tear. Standing on tiptoes she leaned in and sweetly kissed him on the lips.

“Yes, and so much more. I love you, Jamie Fraser.”

Jamie sniffed, a crooked smile on his face

“And I you.”

He wrapped his arms around her pulling her close.

“Well, now that is all out of the way let’s have some of this delicious breakfast that you ordered for us.”

“Oh, and Jamie,” Claire said mischievously, “the next time you want to do it in front of a mirror, just make sure I can see your sweet arse in action, aye?”

A devilish grin played across her face as she turned and walked away leaving Jamie standing with his mouth agape.

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 81

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Mardy Bum

Summary: Alfie is dealing with Gen's condition in his own way, by being an overbearing arse. Being blind to his behavior and the problems it's causing for everyone, the women of the house decide to do something to make him improve his coping techniques. Song is Mardy Bum by The Arctic Monkeys.

Warnings/Tags: Language. References to assault and violence. PTSD. Suffering/Physical Pain. Fluff. Mad Alfie. Grumpy Alfie. Tommy Shelby. Soft Gen. Aggie getting angry. (Like a teddy bear with a knife she is.)

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Aggie stands in the doorway and sees Alfie nodding off again while sitting up in bed. He had done this constantly the past few days, his body and mind begging for sleep, but his heart not allowing it. He wouldn’t let Genevieve out of his sight. He wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t eat or do anything but hold watch over her like a dragon guarding his treasure. He was scaly and red just like the comparison, his words equal to fire as his mood was poorly to understate its severity.

He kept her company through her fits in her sleep, the same cycles of active dreams, both good and bad and the latter only increasing in frequency. Every time she would become restful, he became fearful. He worried her lack of upset was a sign she was slipping away again and he’d move to hold her if he wasn’t already, waking her and causing her pain. But despite the unhealthy paranoia he was revealing in this situation, every time Gen would be awake for a few moments, she would meet his gaze and gently touch his face before resting her head back against him with a smothered sigh. Never had so little of an acknowledgment given him so much feeling.

Aggie could see the signs of him breaking, knowing he would only get worse if he kept up this grueling schedule. It wasn’t only him she was worried about. Once Gen was well enough to get up and move around, and she was hoping that today could be the day for it, she knew he wouldn’t be in any state to help her much. The lack of rest had taken its toll on his body, looking and moving like a much older man. He needed to be strong for her in all aspects. Two people falling apart simultaneously would do no good to anyone. Especially with how Gen had responded to similar trauma in the past. Aggie was worried she’d act out. Alfie would have to serve as a hand of the law and hold fast rules of the house as a man if she did. If he was weak and desperate it would only lead to trouble.

With the appearance of Tommy, Arthur, and the children in tow that morning Aggie saw her chance to get Alfie back into working order.

“Morning Agatha.” Tommy’s cool voice coasted out with a nod of his head. Claire was already distracting the children with the maids and Arthur as they led them to the nursery.

“Forgive me for not exchanging pleasantries Mr. Shelby but as you can imagine things have been terribly tense around here as of late.” Aggie's tense face tells him all he needs to know.

“I do not have to imagine it Agatha, I’ve been through it myself.” He gives her an empathetic hand to her hunched shoulder.

“Might I ask you for a favor sir? One that might make Mr. Solomons angry but I’m at the end of my rope with him truth be told.” she lets out an exhalation, a bit of pleading in her eyes.

“You would not be the first and you will not be the last.” He muses. “What do you need?”

“Mr. Solomons is being most difficult. He won’t sleep or eat or leave. We’re more than capable of caring for Genevieve here but he refuses to let anyone near her, save Claire and me. Even to us, he won’t meet our eyes. Just watches over her like some gargoyle.” She answers with clear exasperation. “I was wondering if you thought you could talk him into letting us handle her and get her out and have him get some much-needed rest? He needs to be able to function as he had been. This seclusion is doing neither of them any good. I am relieved that you showed up as I was going to try to get her to the garden today.”

“I will make no promises Agatha but I will try. He’s a most stubborn man.”

“Thank you Mr. Shelby.” She responds with a bow. “Now I’m going to go check on the children.” She dismisses herself.

As Tommy makes his way down the hall toward Gen's room, he hopes she will be in good enough shape to argue with Alfie on the point of leaving her. He knew deep down that he also wouldn’t be leaving if he were in his position. He’d be drunk off his arse and just as mad as Alfie. But he didn’t have to know that.

He opens the door slowly, finding Alfie glaring directly into his eyes from across the large, gilded room. Tommy keeps his characteristic cool and walks towards him, not breaking his attempts at defended the sleeping woman next to him. Tommy blinks once, a polite bowing out and looks to Genevieve. She did look better. Under two weeks past since the incident and her color was coming back slightly in her cheeks, the bruises not as deep but now a vast array of colors and shapes all over her body.

“She looks better.” Tommy states with a flat delivery.

Alfie says nothing, only turns to look at her himself. Did she look better? All he saw was the hand shaped bruises on her body, the marsh and sea colors growing across her skin as they healed. But only superficially. It was hard to call her better when he’s spent the last few hours holding her hands to the bed to keep her from hurting herself.

“But you look like shit, Solomons.” He says with no smirk, eyebrow set in a nonaggressive stance.

“Oi you can fuckin’... piss off mate.” His low and ragged voice growls as he points a red, splotchy hand to the door.

“Might I suggest something? From a man that’s been through this... from both sides?” He tries a gentler approach, seeing the anger in his business partners eyes that he knew was only hurt disguised.

“Fuck no. Get out with ya so called fuckin' help. I’ve got her, yeah? Don’t need your fuckin advice. Ya couldn’t keep your wife alive why would I wanna listen to you?” He spits venom and Tommy sees now what Agatha was talking about. If he was in his right mind he wouldn’t have said that, but it didn’t help the upset it made bloom in Tommy’s chest.

“Look Alfie. You acting out isn’t going to help anyone. Certainly not you yeah? And not her.” He points to Genevieve laying with a flinching face in her sleep. “You think you’re taking care of her but you’re not. You’ll break soon. Mark my words. If you keep this up. Men, those like us weren’t meant to live this way. We can’t become obsessed with the things we swear we’ll protect. There has to be a line of self-preservation.”

“‘At’s fuckin rich comin' from you, Tommy.” He scoffs.

“When she needs you, truly. Her mind and body feeling not her own, you will need to know yourself with no room for question to help her. I’ve been where she is... where she’s goin’. It’s going to be a different sort of difficult now. And you need to be on your fucking toes for it. She was a hellcat before and it will only be worse with this medicine and her head.” He keeps his words stern but even. Wanting to show his seriousness but not have Alfie pull a gun he was sure was waiting just out of sight.

“I am bloody here. Ya got eyes innit ya?”

“Agatha has told me the truth whether you will or not.” He quirks an eyebrow at the man with a brow so low and hard his eyes were almost out of sight.

“None of them know anyfing. They let this happen, why the fuck would I trust them now?”

“No one LET it happen Alfie. It just happened. You were the one who pointed out the hypocrisy to me for us to be upset over things we deserve, things that happen to men like us. This is one of those things.”

Alfie is quiet and is eerily still, staring into Tommy.

“I believe you should let her out of your sight and get some air today. I’m here, Arthur and the children. Do her a world of good to see them.”

“Why does she have to be out of my sight?”

“Because you need to fucking sleep, Alfie. You look like hell and at least one of you need to have it together. And you’re fuckin’ fallin’ apart. I say that as a friend, as someone who cares about Genny. I don’t want her being looked after by a mad man who can’t even take care of himself. You need to get your life back in order Alfie. Falling apart helps no one. I’ve fuckin' done it. Didn’t help a fucking thing.” he says with an aggravated shake of his head.

Alfie huffs and then lets out a long sigh.

“I know she’s got her little potions and that, yeah? Take one. It’ll give you a few hours. She’ll be with us. She won’t be out of anyone’s sight.”

“Why are you tryin' to put me under? How do I know you aren’t trying something ya bloody gypsies.” He mutters with narrowed eyes, showing his growing paranoia.

“Because I went after her that day too. Because I was here to support your fucking proposal. Because I helped your men burn down half the bloody city.” He replies with an expression now showing his thinning patience.

“You weren’t there. I dinnit see you do nuffin'.” He retorts purely to only be difficult.

“Take it or fucking not Alfie, I don’t care. You’re being a right pain in the arse to everyone around you and will have everyone hating you again soon if you don’t recover. So get some fucking sleep yeah?” Tommy tells with a tight jaw and clear exasperation.

“I won’t be able to fuckin' sleep without it.” He grumbles and admits. Alfie blinks slowly, still glaring. “But you betta fuckin' swear it. If ANYFING happens to her you wake me!” he says angrily. Deep down, in his not sleep deprived functioning of his brain he knew Tommy was right. He didn’t have to admit it aloud though.

Gen stirs at the raising of his voice. “Mmmph.” she lets out, brow furrowing.

“Go on and get the old birds then.” Alfie pushes towards the door to send Tommy on his way. “Mornin’, love.” he says with a tone so distinctly opposite of his words with Tommy that the other man knew at least it was love that was causing him to act so out of character.

------

He had helped her get up and bathe, her sleepy face showing an acute lack of reaction to her environment that left him uneasy. But he knew the medicine was still in her system, her not having grown a resistance to the dose. He sends her off with her freshly washed hair and in a new gown before doing as he did her, and try to take care of himself. He takes a short bath, a quick scrub in all the ripe places before pulling on a loose shirt and trousers to lie down in, just in case he was needed he’d already be dressed.

Alfie begrudgingly takes the tonic. Not even a full dose, just enough to let his mind shut up long enough for him to get to sleep. Tommy had only convinced him because, despite his onerous behavior, he knew he was right. Alfie wasn’t above taking advice when it came from someone who knew what they were talking about. He knew Tommy most certainly knew the situation he and Genevieve found themselves in. As he lay alone in the dim light and quiet hush of the room, behind the closed ornate door to the bedroom, he finally allowed himself to exhale. With a face that still said, piss off despite being alone, his deep crows feet, the rolling hills of his forehead and brow settle as he shuts his eyes. He should’ve expected the dreams to find him as they did. All bad, all bloody and bitter. There are the fields of bodies, the trenches in sight as the explosions and gunfire whip by him as he dives among the duckboards for cover. The muddy mazes and the makeshift wooden slats turn into a hallway as he scrambles. The screams and explosions change to the sounds Genevieve made the day they rescued her and he searches desperately for her in the dark. He hears her and cannot find her, he screams for her and fights against the nothingness that surrounds him. Suddenly the cries stop, he’s in his home int he city, charging up the newly varnished stairs to his room to find their mutual friends standing over an empty bed.

“I’m sorry.” They all murmur and look at him with pity.

He tastes blood in his mouth, still covered in the filth of the trenches from earlier, hands on the bed and hitting it as if it would make something happen.

“She fought so hard.” Aggie says, sobbing into Claire’s shoulder.

“It was so sudden.” Claire whispers, shaking her head.

“If only you’d been there.” Tommy says, glaring into him.

“We’ll never forgive you for this.” Arthur growls.

“I told you to treat her better.” Polly sneers.

Alfie pants and growls, looking at them with wild eyes and sweat soaked skin.

“She’s gone Alfie. She’s dead. Because of you. It’s all your fault. You miserable old cunt.” Claire spits at him. “You were supposed to protect her.”

“Why didn’t you save me Alfie?” he hears her voice from behind him as he pivots and stares, sprawled on the bed as she’s in the doorway. One of her indulgent long sheer gowns in white, flowing and light around her body, lit up like the sun. Her face is solemn and hurt, her voice so timid it burns his chest to hear it.

“I did. I tried, love. Fuck Genevieve, I tried. I’m sorry.” he rushes out as he scrambles to her and his hands go through her.

“I’m gone, Alfie.” she shakes her head.

“No, no, you can’t be.” his hands reach out to nothing as she starts to fade.

The accusations and reminders of Gen’s demise are all shouted at him as he keeps desperately grabbing and calling out for her. His body pushed so hard against the hurt that he wakes himself, half in and out of sleep, still heavy underneath the effects of the tonic. He finds himself thrashing and yelling in her bed, through instinct he looks for her near him, and when she is not there his half woke mind panics.

“No.” he chokes out, her absence telling him just like earlier that she was certainly dead. -------

The edges of her world were fuzzy. The pain in her body could be felt, but it was as if it were far away. She moves slowly, Arthur's arms on her gently as they make their way to a stone bench in the garden. He’s personally thrilled with her progress, recalling the state Tommy was in and how couldn’t even move in the beginning. Granted, she hadn’t had so many obvious injuries, but Polly had explained to him that the injuries inside someone can be far greater than the ones on the outside when it comes to the mind. That he knew what it was like to have your mind out to get you, and he had always looked at those suffering with pity and empathy ever since. His eyes for Gen were no different in the afternoon sun. He says sweet praise as she moves with a limp, her ankle on the verge of healing now.

“There she is now.” he declares with outstretched hands her hands rest over her thin white robe on her thighs as she sits up on her own. She was a bit wobbly, granted, but she was managing. Aggie stood behind her and kept watch that she would stay upright. Once they saw she was stable enough, Tommy brings out Charlie by the hand as he oh’s and ah’s at the seemingly giant pieces of the garden.

“There’s Auntie Genny now, eh?” Tommy says with a soft tone, holding the boy back from charging at her as he normally would. With a happy squeal, Gen raises her head towards the boy's noises and as he approaches she slowly recognizes her favorite small human. Arthur beams as a smile slowly comes across her face, albeit a sleepy one, but it was a good sign to be getting anything out of her at this point. After a brief kiss of cheeks, Tommy suggests Charlie pick his Auntie some flowers, eager to please and get his hands on the overwhelming amount of color surrounding him he happily bounds away. Gen watches him shrink and disappear behind a hedge, her smile faltering as she recalls her dream, a wrinkle of her nose and a mood swing takes her as she rests on her hand with a pained sigh, her eyes once again vacant.

“What is it Genny?” Arthur gruffs out, taking her hand and gently rubbing her back, stimulating her enough to meet his eyes.

“She can’t talk yet, dear.” Aggie says, pulling the pen and paper out of her apron pocket. “Here you go darling, would you like to try to talk to us a bit?” she asks with kind eyes, putting the pen in her hand for her. Her grip is shaky at first, but it does respond and Arthur doesn’t hide his relief that she’s able to do such a thing. At least her brain was sending out the orders, even if her body was slow to follow them.

“The children.” she writes, looking into the distance.

“They were excited to see you, eh?” Arthur happily chirps in his deep comforting voice. “Little Ruby is down for a nap, long drive ‘n that. Linda has Billy up at the farm, he wasn’t feelin’ up to it poor lad.” he explains.

Gen shakes her head, her eyes not meeting his.

“Oh don’t feel bad about it, love, he’s just got a bit of stomach upset. Probably got into the sweets behind our back again!” he says happily with a laugh.

Gen slowly reaches out and puts a weak grip on Aggie’s forearm, the other hand lifting the paper and pushing it towards her again.

“She’s been asking about children after waking up.” Aggie says quietly, her hand tender on Gen’s face as she sees an unexplained pain behind her unfocused eyes.

“What’s she on about?” Arthur faces Aggie, but keeps his eyes on the disheartened Gen.

“We don’t know.” Aggie let’s out a sigh.

“Look here’s little Charlie. Here’s the boy now.” Arthur says trying to distract her.

Charlie had been blessed with his mother’s patience, as he surely hadn’t gotten it from his father. They sit in the garden, Charlie babbling to a reluctantly willing participant in Gen about flowers. She takes them one by one into her hands, forming a bouquet slowly, Arthur watching her receive and follow commands from the enthusiastic boy and rubbing her back as she was able to grip and respond with nods as the child spoke.

“She’s doing better.” Claire says, standing at the foot of the stairs with Aggie, watching the picturesque scene go down, Gen with a peaceful look on her face, Charlie happily babbling and tottering around in the high grass and jumping after butterflies.

“She’s asking about children again.” Aggie frowns. “But other than that yes.”

“The doctor told us there would be confusion and even hallucinations. For what she’s been through the subject doesn’t surprise me. Tommy mentioned it to me in confidence as well. Says he saw all sorts of things.”

“Well, that’s just wonderful.” Aggie says with heavy sarcasm that she doesn’t usually explore. “How are we to know if she’s doing any better in her mind if she’s bloody hallucinating.” she groans.

“It’s still too soon to tell. Once she’s off the medicine we’ll be able to know for sure.”

“But when will that be? Maybe never!” Aggie huffs.

“Don’t let Alfie’s poor mood rub off on you Ags.” Claire chuckles and pats her back.

“My apologies dear this whole situation is just a bit... overwhelming.” she admits her hands wringing together with worry despite the clear progress being made in front of her.

“I know. But we can do this.” Claire nods confidently. “Let’s try to enjoy it moment by moment shall we? Look at her, not pained in appearance or sound, following commands, responding, sitting like a little flower in her lovely white robes among her favorite things.” Claire’s hand sweeps out. “Our friends are here, she’s here, Alfie has finally shut the fuck up and went to sleep.” she laughs and Aggie grins.

“Thank Christ for that.” she rolls her eyes. “Bloody menace that man is. I thought he’d be the one to be the most helpful but I feel as if we’re babysitting him as well.”

“I believe he’s unaccustomed to such emotions. Despite his insistence that this is something that happens to people like them, I believe he’s racked with guilt. With rest, I believe he’ll get better. He loves her. Let’s try to remember that. It’s out of love and even if he is a clever one, he’s still just a man.” Claire says with a sigh.

“Not to us. He’ll be her husband, father of her children, man of the house. His name will be on everything. I just want him to be strong enough for her is all.” She rubs the bridge of her nose. “I pray he is but-“

Just then a roar erupts from inside the house. The unmistakable boom of Alfie echoing off the halls and out of the wall of open windows and patio doors to everyone in the garden.

“Fucks sake.” Claire groans, already having to eat her words.

“MR. SOLOMONS!” The girls inside call out over and over. “SHE’S ONLY IN THE GARDEN SIR!”

“WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HER? WHERE DID YOU TAKE MY GENNY?!” his voice shouts with malice spat at the innocent and fearful faces of the maids.

“SHE'S NOT DEAD SHES IN THE GARDEN!” One squeals, being shoved out of the way as he barges through every door in the house.

“Fucking hell.” Claire moans, moving fast up the stairs. “What the fuck is going on?” Claire demands from a scurrying maid.

“I don’t know!” She says with watery eyes from what were surely hurtful words from Alfie. “He took the lady’s tonic and laid down, then he started screaming and fighting in his sleep when he woke up and kept doing it! I don’t know! It’s like he’s on drugs!” One answers with shaking hands.

“The vial.” Aggie replies and hitches up her skirt to chase after the sounds in Genevieve’s wing of the house. “The man only drinks ceremonial wine and he’s gone and taken belladonna.”

With understanding clear on her face Claire laments and posts up on the back patio, ready for him to come her way. He’s either taken too much or doesn’t know he’s awake she assumes. Of course, he’d freak out when he woke and she wasn’t there.

“Alfie! She’s in the garden. GARDEN, ALFIE! GEN IS IN THE GARDEN!” Aggie shouts as he turns to see her in the doorway of Gen’s studio.

“SHE’S DEAD, WHAT DID YOU FUCKERS DO WITH HER BODY?!” he charges towards her.

She moves out of the way wisely. “GARDEN!” Aggie says and shoves him down the hall. “I see why he doesn’t bloody drink now.” she murmurs to herself, chasing after the stumbling lion as he slides down the hallway in his socks.

“C’MERE ALFIE!” Claire shouts, getting his attention, seeing in his face that he wasn’t all there. She herds him down the hall to the back patio where he sees her. Same as in his dream. All white and fluffy and soft, a face of confusion as their eyes lock across the path.

“Genny.” a whine escapes him as Arthur moves to protect her, he didn’t know what was going on, just that Alfie was acting like a rabid animal.

“Ah-?” she whispers, slowly moving towards him, holding her robe up and her face full of concern, the most alert anyone had seen her all day.

“Gen...Gen..” he says, powering down, his feet hitting heavy against the light stone landing, the vison of her, what he thought was a ghost making his head spin. The race of his blood, the haze his mind was in, the lack of sleep and the culmination of stress, thinking his love dead all hit him as he takes one more step and collapses against the ground like a tranquilized beast. Everyone stops and stares.

Claire is the first to get over the shock and rush his way, motioning her arm to Aggie as she comes through the doors. “He’s passed out the absolute ninny.” she rolls her eyes.

“What the fuck is this?” Tommy says rounding the corner and Arthur is still by the hobbling Gen’s side.

“Bad reaction to the sleep tonic I imagine.” Claire sighs, rolling him and propping him up, one of the male staff members coming to help her hoist him up.

“I’d say.” the maid's murmurs amongst themselves.

“Get her back into bed with him. I’ll not have this circus erupting again.” Claire orders.

“I only wanted him to get some rest.” Aggie pouts.

“You didn’t know he’d react this way, Agatha. It’s fine. As this beast likes to say, these things happen.” Claire grunts as she helps carry him back to their bed. “If he can’t handle a little of bubbies potion I see why he doesn’t drink now.” She snarks.

-----

Genevieve sits up in bed of her own accord for the first time since coming home. She sits with timid body language, hands in her lap as she keeps her eyes on the snoring man next to her.

“Perhaps opium would’ve been a better choice.” Tommy smirks as he stands with his hands in his pockets, Claire and Aggie rolling their eyes his way.

“At least he wouldn’t have broken the vase if he was on opium.” Aggie protests.

Claire grins at Aggie who was entirely over Alfie’s wild antics the past few days. “Best he stays away from anything now. Except her I suppose.” Claire pats Genevieve’s leg covered by her plush duvet as she ignores the conversation around her and watches the nuance of Alfie’s lip blubbing in his sleep. She reaches out, having grown impatient to touch him even though they had all been keeping watch only a matter of minutes. Everyone watches her with bated breath as her hand reached out, body turned just slightly which was a feat in itself, as she touched his face.

“Ah.” she whispers, leaning closer to him, fingers carding through his now fluffy and unkempt hair, long pieces across his forehead that reminded her of the feelings he used to bring out in her with his moments of unintentional boyish charm.

His strong sloped nose twitches, hearing his back crack and pop as he arches it and grunts. “Pet?” he murmurs, hand reaching up to touch hers, wondering if everything had been a bad dream for a blissful moment in time before opening his eyes. But when he accepts that he is in indeed in the less than perfect reality when Gen’s watercolor splotched soft face comes into focus. Neck still wearing a necklace of bruises, braces on fingers that he now felt under his hand as he gently kisses her palm and sighs. “What are you doin’ up, love? What ya need?” he begins before slowly sitting up himself.

Her face smiles and he gives her a sleepy one back, finding brief solace in her happiness to look at him still despite being a man, and men had done those terrible things to her. Once he sits up his eyes move away from her, and his eyes go wide, chin pushed into his neck as his face moves into a sharp scowl. “What in the fuckin' hell is this?” he asks looking at the people surrounding the bed. “Some fuckin' rest I’ll be gettin' with the lot of you fuckin hoverin’ like fuckin’ fly’s.” he complains loudly, lips pursed as he meets their eyes.

“He doesn’t remember.” Claire smirks.

“Remember what?” he barks.

Gen lets out a small huff of a laugh that takes all his attention.

“Was that a laugh? Ya havin’ a laugh are ya?” a falsely threatening brow but a smile on his face for the happy sound from her makes him put his arm around her and let her lie against him. “What’s your old man done so I can do it again if it makes you laugh, love.” he chuckles into her hair as she resumes her kitten-like behavior and nuzzles into his side.

“You had a bad reaction to the sleep tonic you took,” Claire explains. “You didn’t know what was a dream and what was reality and you stormed through the house shouting about her being dead and then passed out when you saw her in the garden.” The superior feeling Claire had to finally have one over on Alfie was clear in her taunting face.

“I fuckin’ wot? No I dinnit.” he denies, shaking his head, voice gruff and defensive.

“We all saw it.” Tommy adds.

“Well it’s your fault innit!” he says with a broad swipe of his big paw of a hand towards the smug looking man.

“How was I to know you couldn’t hold your drugs?” he gives a subtle grin.

“I don’t do that shite for a reason, yeah? It’s fuckin’ awful that stuff.”

“Well don't take belladonna again.” Aggie scolds with a shake of her head. “You scared the wits out of the maids.”

“Eh.” he shrugs. “Best they get a backbone yeah?” his tone was still defensive and everyone could see it on his face. He was a bit embarrassed. Gen puts her hand on his stomach and rubs the softness that lies beneath the linen of his shirt as she listened to his voice, that boom, and power that made her shut her eyes and know things were okay.

“You best get a backbone.” Aggie retorts, crossing her arms.

“Excuse you?” Alfie laughs.

“I’m serious! You’ve scared Genevieve, screaming and then passing out and calling her name. Then the maids, and us with your loud arse stumbling around the house like a bloody bull.” her voice has bite and Alfie’s tilted head shows his surprise.

“Agatha, love, I didn’t know you were so bitter.”

“Not bitter just tired, Alfie.” she murmurs. “I don’t want to have to worry about you. You’ve been a fucking mess since she’s been home and I don’t want you acting like a boy. She needs a man. We all need a strong man to be there for her. And you’ve been nothing but another burden in your behavior. Acting like everyone is out to get you in this house. Acting like you’re the only one that cares about her or can care for her. You aren’t the only one affected by this and it’s time you realized that.”

Alfie blinks slowly, Claire wearing a proud look on her face. “Language Aggie.” he chuckles.

“Well I’m very fucking serious!” she says with straight posture and furrowed brow.

“Thank you for sharing your feelings then Agatha.” Alfie gives her a nod, trying not to grin at the entirely nonthreatening angry face the older woman was wearing.

“I also agree with that. You can’t stay here holed up as you have been. There’s proof it’s making you mad now.” Claire snarks.

“What do you think, love?” he softly asks Gen, a scapegoat for his behavior he thinks. But she’s already asleep on his chest. “Oh fuckin’ ‘ell look at her.” he sighs, fingers stroking her hair softly. “How can I want to leave this?” he mutters before kissing her hair.

“You don’t have to want to. You have to. You have a business. People are going to talk if you just fuck off to stay at home. They’ll think you’re weak, Alfie.” Tommy says.

He knew he wasn’t wrong. “Fuckin’ up me arse the lot of ya.” he grumbles.

“We’re going to be if you don’t start getting out of this bed and work on being yourself again. She needs you to be you so she can remember how to be herself.” Claire says, leaning forward and speaking intensely with eye contact to Alfie’s still hesitant eyes. “Your fucking legs are going to stop working if you stay in here with her much longer like this.” she says with more humor, pinching his shin.

Alfie sighs, kissing Gen's forehead. “I’m not doin’ it because ya tellin’ me to. Let me make that fuckin’ clear.” he points at each with a low brow. “But for her. She needs someone out there to control things. People are gonna talk 'bout her. She’s got more to lose than me right now. And I will admit though, right, that I don’t wanna be shoutin’ and actin’ like some fuckin’ drunk in me own house in front of people.” he grunts.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, Alfie.” Claire groans. “We just need you to trust us and let her have her space. She can’t become dependent on you either. It’s not good for either of you.”

“Yeah.” he mumbles. “Not no little pups no more are we love?” he sighs and kisses her head. “Can’t stay in the love bubble forever as you say.” he continues speaking to her despite her state of consciousness. “She’d want me back out there.” he admits.

“Yes. Yes she would.” Claire nods enthusiastically. “She would want you healthy, handling your business. She wouldn’t want you to decline because of her.”

“‘N today was fuckin’ decline, innit?” he groans and rubs his head.

“Most certainly. You really showed your arse today Alfie.” Aggie says still pouting and peeved.

“Alright Ags. Christ.” he chortles. “We’ll take it slow today, yeah? Call up Ollie and have ‘im over for tea. We’ll figure this out.” he answers quietly with authority as he looks down at Genevieve. “We’ll get back on track tomorrow. ‘Cause I feel right pissed wif ‘is in me system still. Fuckin’ embarrassin’.” he admits and shakes his head. “One day at time, yeah?” he speaks softly, kissing her hair again and taking a deep breath of her lavender scent. “Same as you little flower. Not gonna block the sun for ya to bloom with my big loud arse around all the time.” he beams and shuts his eyes and she mewls under the contact, nose mushed into his side. “One day at a time, love.”

Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

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[xo-dailypier-blog]

this is not a recap;

     hey cumguzzlers,

It has come to my attention that Lady X took it upon herself to rate the nether regions of the men of Santa Monica. Unfortunately her assessment was BIASED and hardly based on facts. So as a JOURNALIST, I have taken it upon myself to get to the TRUTH. Today will be a Top 9 list of the men in this town, and their BEDROOM PERFORMANCES.

I’m not revealing actual sizes, because I firmly believe that it’s all about the motion of the ocean. And if you think I’m giving a run down on every SCRUB in this town, you’re out of your mind! I WISH I could have made this a Top 10 but most of the guys on Lady X’s assessment, have already been exposed in the fuck hut tapes during Summer Crush, and honestly? Don’t even make the cut for the top 5. Like, we KNOW the #DemonDick is low-key worth the hype (BUT YOU SHOULD STAY AWAY FROM IT BECAUSE HELLO? IT RUINED TWO RELATIONSHIPS IN LIKE THE SPAN OF A DAY! AND IM SURE THE BUCK DOESNT STOP THERE!), and we GET IT, Adam has a massive ROD, and I’m sure (Power Top) Asher, his brother, isn’t that far off. Vic IS well endowed AND can make things EROTIC. And we all know about Jack, who is also well endowed but has, like, erectile dysfunction or whatever. Oh, and don’t forget Daddy Sorrentino is obvs a beast in the sheets, but I’ve been telling you guys that since, like, ever. And I’m honestly on a Jamie/Cunty Sabbatical atm, they’re going through a difficult time after Cunty cheated, so who really needs their dick-info broadcasted on top of all that, ya know? (Cunty deff comes in at an alleged 9 inches, which is bigger than Jamie, BUT he (Cunty) never uses his junk on Jamie because, like Asher, Jamie is a Power Top. (but you didn’t hear this from me). Look, if any guy is left off the list that you have interest in, like, just ask Phobe. I’m sure she’ll know.

But before we get started, Congratulations are in order! You guys voted on Hottie of the Moment, and we have a winner!

It’s none other than Miss Fraudi Zirconium herself (@heidistarks​) The queen of bargains has stormed onto the scene in her Wild Fable Couture and has CAPTIVATED the hearts of all Santa Monicans. In honor of her win, I am giving everyone a $25 gift card to Claire’s! If you go to their website and use offer code SharkThot, you too, can get the Heidi Look. When asked about her recent accomplishment she had this to say:

"It's about fucking time." - Fraudi Zirconium Stark, 2019

Congratulations, again Fraudi! You go girl, work that Forever 21 tracksuit, bitch!

NINE - ALEC CLARKE @alecxclarke​

One of the wangs in question that Lady X TOUCHED ON was Alec Clarke. She mentioned that Alec was more than likely LACKING in the his SOUTHERN MEAT DEPARTMENT. So obvs i had a BONE to pick with this assessment because Alec’s fan base is GETTING UP there with Jamie Carter’s so we have to know what he got in them jeans. Sadly ... while his junk is fine. His way around the bedroom is is abysmal, I honestly thought it was a PHALL-ACY but one girl who is one of his past flings, wrote to me after seeing Lady X’s post. She has asked to remain anonymous...

Hey DP (and Lady X),

I saw your post about Alec and you’re wrong about his size. He’s actually pretty girthy and lengthy or whatever. But he is honestly one of my worst encounters. We met on a dating app, that shall remain nameless. So fast forward to sexy time, and once we started making out it was a tragedy! No tongue, no passion. It was like kissing a mcfucking corpse! His lips were like, so dry, but, whatever, that’s not the problem. Once I started giving him a blow jay he just randomly burst into tears, and said he couldn’t do it anymore, and asked if I wanted to play fucking Yahtzee. I left and bought Listerine. I think you should look into if he is like this with all the girls, instead of his size. Bc that’s the real tea. Anyways, Love the Blog! Kisses!

Its always such a disappointment when this happens. OBVIOUSLY our HoneyBun Alec has some issues to work on. I know he has a Crazy life but I didn’t think things were this HARD for him.

Overall Rating: N/A

Favorite Position: Again, N/A. I could hardly find girls who’ve had sex with him ................. INCHresting. (Ok, that was the last one).

Downside: I mean, Hello? He breaks out in tears mid-coitus! He IS the downside!

Alec! Write into us with your side of the story! I prom (half a promise) that I won’t believe the rumors. Love ya, Honey Bun!

EIGHT - SKYLER DAVIS @skylerxdavis​

No idea where Lady X got the idea that he had the biggest LOVE MISSLE in town, but it is absolutely FALSE. And in fact, what I’ve heard about his performance in the bedzzzZzZzZzzzzzzzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZzZzZzzzz ZzzzzZzzzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZz

Overall Rating: zzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZz

Favorite Position: zzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZzzzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZz

Downside: zzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZzzzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZz zzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZzzzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZz zzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZzzzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZz zzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZzzzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZz zzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZzzzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZz

Alleged Body Count: zzZzZzZzZzZzZzzzzZzzzzZz

SEVEN - NOAH SINCLAIR @nhsinclair​

So next on the list is Noah Sinclair. This one will be brief, because it really threw me for a loop. So I’m sorry to report, that Noah has a Chode. I know. I’m actually crying while typing this but this is only the word on the street, so take it with a grain of salt.

“Darla” (fake name) wrote in to my blog to refute Lady X’s claims. She writes:

I’ve had half way sex with Noah one time and when he dropped his pants I literally laughed. Not to body shame or whatever, but I, like, couldn’t have sex with him because the condom didn’t fit. Sorry, didn’t have a Trojan Jr readily available? He’s good with his hands though.

So Noah has made the list in a sad and unfortunate entry. So ladies if you want Noah to DIP his NUGGET in YOUR sauce, you better make your move!

Maybe this is why he got that divorce. Ugh, poor Natasha. Let’s hope this is all a rumor, I would hate for it to be true.

Overall Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️ (The hand thing is kind of important).

Favorite Position: Noah’s Nugget Number (No clue what this means, ask Diana or Natasha).

Downside: There is no downside if you, like myself, are privy to a good Nugget or two. #RanchPlease

MOVING ON!

SIX - LOGAN LANCASTER @loganlancaster​

Our next entry is none other than Long Dick Logan Lancaster. According to Lady X, Logan is average. Well I’m here to let you know that, thankfully, LDL lives up to his name (no nuggets here!). But you guys would have to get with him to truly find out how #blessed he is.

Overall Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Favorite Position: Alligator Fuckhouse, according to sources. (DON’T Google it, live in ignorance).

Downside: The only reason, ya boi has gotten 4 stars instead of 5 is because of the rumors surrounding his hygiene. As we know, there’s been a debate on the internet about washing your legs. And Logan, an able bodied man, doesn’t do that. Nor does he take showers the way that he should. Many girls who’ve been with him have complained of smelling the stinch of onions and mildew while ENGAGING with him. Others have complained of a SALTY taste while going down on him. Most of the girls he’s BANGED have all been in the junkyard of his Auto Shop or whatever so maybe it’s a fetish for them? That’s no excuse for bringing that nasty ass behavior to every other girl in Santa Monica.

Thankfully a bunch of you have been sending body wash to his shop, so maybe we can LanCAST the mustiness away (If this is true).

Logan, please write in, I need to know the truth. But other than that, the dick is BOMB! But make sure you don’t over-do it on B.J. part though, sodium intake is v important and you wouldn’t want to get hypertension suckling on his salty ass COCK.

FIVE - EMRE YOGIOH @emre--yavuz

Ok, so next on the list is Emre Yugoslavia (or whatever his name is). Ok so ... buckle in ladies.

Overall Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Favorite Position: The Lion King (I’m serious, don’t Google these things).

Downside: Ok, so Emre is supposedly into bondage. Which totally makes sense since he’s like, repressed from childhood. The whole missing sister thing really took a toll on his psych, since he’s parents totes forgot about him. Now he YEARNS for control. So the word is that he’s basically Christian Grey but not a literal abuser. He’s into bondage, slapping, SPITTING, choking, flogging, and whips and chains EXCITE HIM. An S&M Daddy! Now the only reason this is in the Downside section is because it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Some girls find it disturbing, and others are totes into it. I’m the latter! Sign me the FUCK up! Choke me with those strong REPRESSED hands.

I noticed he and Olivia have been friendly recently, let’s hope she knows that she’ll be walking side to side after a night with him (no, but like, because of the flogging, not the dick). Once he’s done with those spread sheets at his hoity-toity big boy job, spread sheets take on a whole new meaning once the dawn comes. You go Emre Yahooligan! #callme

FOUR - DEVIN FLORES @devinxflores

First of all, I just want to give a big thanks to all of you for letting me call him Devin TORRES for the past few MONTHS like a complete MORON! I really appreciate you guys letting me disgrace the future KING of Santa Monica in such a terrible way! No really, you guys are the best. I love my fans <3.

Anyways, it’s well known that Devin and his Alaskan Bull Worm have burrowed through the city. Both the men and women alike have survived the DF experience, with ZERO complaints .... well, except for one ...

Overall Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Favorite Position: The Charizard (ONCE again, don’t Google. Just know that it involves fire ... And we aint talking about lighting no candles (which he allegedly seems to enjoy, how romantic!)).

Downside: As we have witnessed, Devin is a complete and total klutz! He is always getting himself into a bullshit that is literally all his fault. Didn’t he glue something to his head a few weeks ago -- actually, you know what? That’s not important. What I was getting at is, the main complaint about DaddyDevinFLORES is that during SACX the klutz JUMPS OUT. He has been rumored to have smacked his head on the headboard whilst switching positions (causing him to go UNCONSCIOUS for SEVERAL HOURS, which completely RUINS the mood). One of his Encounters even claimed that during a Romantic Toast of Wine, he clinked the glass so hard it broke and and SHARDS of GLASS went into his hands, causing him to bleed INSTANTLY. What the fuck, Devin?

How could someone who can handle balls so well out on the soccer court, not be able to handle them in the bedroom without accidentally falling out of a window in the process?

Ladies and Gents, much like Emre, Devin will have you walking Side to Side, but if it happens you might be suffering from brain damage after falling in the shower whilst trying to have sex with him. Please seek professional help immediately.

THREE - BERNBERN<3 @carverberncrd

Coming in at Number 3 is none other than Heidi’s personal play thing! We’ve seen his bulge through his Under Armour spanks, so Of Course I had to do a little research to find out the Lipton on HIS heat-seeker. I’ve reached out to his past flings and came to a general consensus.

Overall Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The women I interviewed all confirmed he is an excellent LAY, so once again, I was right. BernBern<3 outsold your favs.

Favorite Position: Doggystyle (obvi)

Downside: He’s a Taurus so while he will indeed fuck you into a state of paralysis, it’s only to reach his Hedonistic Quota for the evening. He probs won’t even remember your name once he’s done, let alone learn it in the first place. So don’t get attached<3.

His star sign also explains his relationship with Fraudi. Not only are they both so annoyingly stubborn, but Two tops can rarely make it in a relationship. Just ask Ash — never mind. (Omg, btw Idk WHY everyone keeps asking. YES, the rumors are true! BernBern<3 gets pegged, but only by Heidi, it’s actually a testament to his masculinity and how he’s reached the apex of it at this point. But this is all old tea. So I guess Julian isn’t the only #DemonDick in the Stark Fam, Surprise?). Anyways, I ship them, but they get on my fucking nerves! They can’t even admit their undying love for each other, which is so obvious. But this isn’t about #Berni (working ship name), BernBern<3 has a massive COCK (and heart) and it has landed itself on the Top of the list.

TWO - SINRIQUE @itsenriqueaguilar

This one came as a surprise to me because I have no idea who this is. But yalls asses do! So here we have Enrique Aguilar, coming in at number 2 because of the OUTPOUR of receipts on the TALLY WACK ATTACK that he PACKS.

Overall Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Favorite Position: You know, there wasn’t a general consensus, he’s a man FULL of surprises.

Downside: No, you don’t understand, there is literally no downside. Look, here is a letter from one of the women he’s slept with. For reasons, you will understand REAL soon, this person has been kept anonymous.

Dear DP,

It’s been approximately 1 year, two months, 9 days, 5 hours, and 46 seconds since I Locked Eyes with Enrique from across a crowded room. That night would go to be on of the most invigorating, tantalizing, and romantic experiences of my life. But when I woke up the following morning HE was gone. I long for the day I see him again. My heart Aches at the thought of him with another women. Giving her the same love that HE gave to ME. I need you to understand that I was a grade A student at my university (4.0). I had an paid internship at an elite institution that OWULD HAVE LED ME INTO A PROMISING CAREER! BUT AFTER THAT NIGHT I BECAME RAVENOUS. I NEEDED MORE. AND IT CONSUMED ME! EVENTUALLY I LOST MY INTERN BECAUSE I STOPPED SHOWING UP! I FLUNKED OUT OF SCHOOL BECAUSE I DIDN’T CARE ANYMORE. I SEARCHED YOU ON ALL SOCIAL MEDIA BUT I COULDN’T FIND YOU! ENRIQUE I NEED YOU BACK IN MY LIFE! JUST FOR ONE MORE NIGHT! PEASE I KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE! CALL ME AT [redacted]

Obviously Ivy, sent this in ... kidding (But honestly though? They did used to date, which ... yikes ... Good to know Daddy Rique has no standards, maybe we all have a chance. #shade #clapback #scalpt)

Anyways, I’ll have to keep an eye on this one, he seems to have a good head on his shoulders ... AND good head on his shoulders OKURRRRRR!!!

ONE - SEBASTIAN DELGADO @bashdelgado

That nerd that sat in the back of the classroom brainstorm his next nerdy ass invention with high-watered khakis, and orthopedic shoes in like, the ninth grade (because he was focused on Arch Support???????). That’s him, Sebastian Delgado. And Baby Daddy Bash has DITCHED the NERD LOOK and is now ready to SNATCH YOUR CAT BACK.

I’m sure everyone is just surprised as I am. But hey, they don’t call him “Bash” for nothing (except for the fact that it’s a shortened version of his name). He’s totes Bashing Puss with his MONSTROUS MEAT TRUNCHEON (and Buss?? Sebastian contact me about your sexuality).  

Overall Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Favorite Position: Missionary, he’s a man of passion and likes to stare DEEP into your eyes. #swoon #romantic #westan

Downside: Well if you HATE Love and AFFECTION, this one is not the one for you. Not only does he have a GINORMOUS, UN-NUGGETED MEAT SEPTOR/LAP ROCKET/VAGINA MINER, which, by the way, last a LONG time, He is EXCELLENT BOYFRIEND Material! He’s caring, patient, kind, resourceful, loyal, and he is well on his way to becoming a multi-millionaire -- which is NOT the reason he is number one! Money is not the goal here ladies (and guys? Seriously Sebastian, I need to know what’s up).  

Sebastian is the complete package and he has ALL of the other guys in this town QUAKING!

So Stan A True Man. Stan .... Sebastian.

And that, my friends, ends the TRUE tea on the wangs in this town. This was fun while it lasted, but I have some COCKtails that need my attention (ok, maybe THAT was the last one).

xo, DP

[jack-andthestalk]

Stuck on you, A Mark. Chapter 5.

Jamie’s distraught expression when I said I wasn’t in love with him, took me by surprise. I didn’t realise it would even affect him, I had tried and probably failed to bury a lot of thoughts of him, and if I conjured up any memory it  was a man  that couldn’t love me, and didn’t deserve my love. I had blocked out his begging, pleading and excuses in order to survive. I had also refused to remember the blissfully happy times we had and how I thought there was no one for me but him, he had certainly told me that I was the only one for him. Remembering it hurt, but once I saw his face on the balcony, I could see it all again in my mind’s eye, the hurt and pain I had seen in the same face two years before

  “You didn’t lie, you didn’t try to hide it and I am thankful for that Jamie, for giving me that respect…and maybe if I hadn’t seen the image I could have tried to…forget”  His hand on her hips, her hands on his chest.  He hadn’t been sorry then, hadn’t thought of me, he had been thinking about something else entirely. That was partly why I left because the image was real in my mind, I mean he had told me, confessed it all but there is something about a tangible picture that makes things real. I couldn’t go on denying it or pretending it hadn’t happened. I thought it ripped me right open, but the expression on Jamie’s face when I pointed to our laptop that morning and said,  “I can’t unsee this and I can’t stay”, was utter devastation.

  He followed me begging and pleading while I packed, eventually as I neared the door he dropped to his knees and buried his face in my stomach wrapping his arms around my waist, “Sassenach I am begging ye, please dinna leave, I will spend the rest of my life making it right.” I reached behind my back and disentangled his hands, taking one step back, I could see the tears forming a new on his cheek.

   “I can’t Jamie, I am sorry, I just …its changed us, the way I love you is different now…you made it less, you lessened us”

  “Claire ya ken it was only because I thought I had already lost ye.”

  “hmm” I said in a detached voice “that’s the pity, you hadn’t lost me at all then, but now you have”

I turned and left, I didn’t look back.

__________________________________________________________

  After the incident with Jamie on the balcony, I had gone for a run and somehow ended up at Cathal’s place, whether Cathal sensed I was having some sort of emotional crisis he was good enough to not question it. He had no idea who Jamie was to me, and that in itself was wrong of me.  We had flirted our way into bed.  I had wanted it, wanted him to make me forget Jamie and forget the pain of losing him. It should have been enough, but when I ran my hands down his back and felt the expanse of his shoulders, I had to bite on my bottom lip to stop me cry out for Jamie. Nobody had or would reach me like he did and part of me hated him for it, for denying me that, I could speak to his body as if it were my own.

 Cathal up until now had been a balm on my battered soul, he was loving and kind and funny, we laughed together constantly, he didn’t deserve half an effort from me. I vowed to be better for him.

___________________________________________________________

  It was only a few days before Jamie made a reappearance at the apartment, Rupert had bought a flat packed wardrobe, but lacked the ability to use a hammer and nail. He had made a pleading call to Jamie, quite handy in that regard and Jamie arrived soon after. He gave me a shy smile when he passed me on the couch, for the next hour I heard nothing but profanity coming from Rupert’s room, which eventually transcended into gradual grunts. From the sounds of things they had managed to assemble most of it. I was just about to offer coffee, when I heard a loud “Fuck” followed by “for fucks sake Rupert” and “Oh Christ man I’m sorry”

  It transpired that Rupert had knocked the newly assembled wardrobe straight over and down on top of Jamie’s opened palm. Rupert starting roaring my name shortly after, and I could hear Jamie hissing at him not to call me. But it was too late, I was in the room and down on my knees beside Jamie before he had a chance to run.

  “Let me look at it under the light in the kitchen Jamie”,

  “nay Sassenach, its fine, il just bandage it up and …” he said through gritted teeth. It was pouring blood and far from fine.

  “You’ll do no such thing, you might need stitches, I am looking at it” without

 Further protestations he followed me like a lamb to the kitchen, it was clearly paining him he had beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

  I led him to the kitchen sink and took his hand in both of mine, the minute I touched him, something ran through me and it took all my concentration to focus on his injury. I was unnecessarily entwining my fingers through his as I examined it, holding it up nearer to my face. My heart was beating almost painfully in my chest and I was afraid he would hear it.

  “I think a few steri strips should do it and I will wrap it well, for work. You don’t want to be getting an infection in it”

  I lifted my head to see what he thought of my assessment and he was just gazing down at me, suddenly his good hand rose slowly and took my right hand in his, he traced the bones in my hand first and eventually landed with his thumb on my wrist, rubbing gently over the small tattoo .

  “Ye dinna get rid of it?” he asked in something like disbelief, his thumb tracing idly and back over the letters JF.

  My mouth went suddenly dry, “no…I…no I didn’t” I replied honestly. His head bobbed up and down in understanding, he pressed his lips together and then I saw him swallow hard, his chin trembled slightly. I lifted his good hand and turned his wrist to face me “you didn’t either I see?” he looked me straight in the eye “Never Sassenach”, he said shaking his incredulously, “I wouldna want to.”

  It was the first time since his arrival in London, he had used that name of endearment and I was about to chastise him for using it but when I looked at him, his face was so full of gratitude and he had the sweetest smile, I couldn’t do it.

  Rupert strutted into the kitchen took one look at our faces and said “ach Christ did I break it?”

  “No” I said smiling “but you gave it a good go”

  I carefully cleaned the hand, and bandaged it. Jamie watched me attentively all the time, when I was finished I splayed his hand out across the kitchen table, “it will be sore for a few days if you make a fist or that but I think it will heal well” I promised, in my best doctor voice.

  “thank ye” he said in almost a whisper, eyes intent on mine, he picked up my hand that rested on the table, slowly while keeping his eyes on me, he brought his mouth to my open hand and kissed my palm. It was an act he had done thousands of times before, I told myself he did it without conscious thought, nearly like an old habit. But then he shifted his face, so his cheek rested in my palm.

“Jamie” I breathed pleadingly.

  He didn’t make to move, but eventually kissed my palm again and laid it back on the table.

  We sat there in silence for a minute, I wasn’t sure what had just ran between us, but I felt thoroughly unsettled and had a longing like pain in my chest.

  “sorry” he whispered guiltily, he looked up at me then through his eyelashes and I thought my heart would break.

  “Will you stay for dinner?” Rupert roared from the sitting room. “Claire does me a roast on Sundays if she is off”, Rupert continued. Then poking his head around the door “that’s alright Claire bear, if Jamie stays? An imploring look at me and a wink.

  I just sighed,

  “roast chicken Jamie?, you are welcome to stay……its Rupert’s favorite, Gellis is coming too…” I began to explain.

  Jamie cut across me not answering my question clearly preoccupied with mine and Ruperts domestic arrangements, “Ye cook for him?” he asked in a scandalized tone.

  “Well he cooks for me too” I replied reasonably “but if I am off on a Sunday I like to cook.

  “How the hell has Rupert managed to wrangle ye to live with him and now ye tell me ye cook him as well.”

  I just smiled, “leave poor Rupert alone, he was other worldly charms, do you want to stay or not?”

  A shy smile spread across his face, “I would like nothing more Claire”

  _____________________________________________

Gellis arrived in a flurry of activity, finishing a sentence on the phone before she even entered that flat, she crooked one eyebrow at me when she saw Jamie watching Rugby with Rupert on the couch, handed me two bottles of wine and said

  “Ach well isna this cosy, just like old times!”

  I gave her a warning look, which I knew she would completely ignore.

  “Is Cathal coming?” she hissed into my ear. “No, he is on nights”, I tried to sound casual but the truth was I didn’t know how Cathal would feel about any of this if he really knew who Jamie was.

  For the main Gellis behaved herself throughout dinner, I could feel heat rising in my cheeks when she asked Jamie if he was seeing anyone. “Are ye dating anyone then Fox hmm?” she asked swirling the wine around in her glass and sitting back on her chair, eyes squinted in scrutiny.

  Jamie glanced at me quickly, a shake of his head and a gruff reply of “no”.

  Gellis being Geillis  wasn’t prepared to leave it there “London is a great place for dating, so many single and ready to mingle, isna that right Rupert?”

Rupert was nodding animatedly, “Why Rupert ye should….”

  “No thanks” Jamie said firmly, a tight smile “I ken where yer going with this Geillis and I am not interested, thanks for yer concern all the same” he narrowed his eyes as he let the smile fall from his face. I heard Gellis mutter “Interesting”

  Apart from that the evening passed without incident, it was some time later with Rupert dozing on the couch beside Gellis that I rose to walk Jamie out.

  “Thanks for dinner” he said nervously

  “No problem it was…” and for lacking a word to describe what is was I trailed off with “strange…I mean its been a long time since we shared a meal” I pressed my lips together in a thin line, and gave him a weak smile.

  Jamie paused for a minute and cleared his throat, “Claire I was wondering…do ye think maybe…”, he rubbed the palms of his hands down his sides and then brought them up folding his arms and dropping them again, he was moving his weight from one foot to the other, as if he couldn’t stand still.

  My forehead burrowed in confusion “what I mean to ask do ye think ye could find it in yerself to spend a bit of time with me again?” I opened my mouth to respond, maybe detecting my hesitancy he quickly clarified “as friends I mean you and me”

  “Jamie” I began shaking my head,

He looked down at his feet and I heard him say “please” so softly my heart almost broke.

“Ok as friends” I said tersely “but if it gets weird….”

  His head snapped up, a big grin on his face, “it won’t!” he said and without taking a breath “I will not give ye cause to regret it”.

[otterbagel]

A Dutiful Partnership- Gavin x Reader (Part 2)

[Part 1 Link]

  Reader is one of the first androids to get a degree outside of their original purpose. While they experience the struggles of working in a non-accepting environment, they must also solve a mysterious case involving an android murder with their not-so-willing partner, Gavin Reed.

   Reader and Gavin discuss their new partnership and find clues hidden in unsolved cases.

(Notes: This is really short, cause I wanted this scene to be by itself. Next part is pretty long and will be posted soon. I have another one-part thing coming out too, but it just wasn’t finished yet!)

Warnings: Cursing, depictions of death, bullying, threats, mentions of hate crimes, generally uncomfortable topics! (please be careful reading)

  You had became enraptured with the information on your terminal since you got back from your outing. It was quite difficult to sift through the massive amount of data put under the blanket term 'human-on-android violence', but you had come up with a few promising leads. In the five months since the revolution's end, there had been thousands of crimes under this label. 

  You tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling you got upon seeing how many were open or unsolved.

  One of the few that seemed similar was a PL600, who was found outside of his apartment building seventeen days ago. There had been no witnesses, but it had seemed as though he had been killed elsewhere. What got your attention was the fact that he had been missing an arm. 

  Two cases, both involving HK400 androids, were merely five days apart from each other. While both had different circumstances, both had been missing a limb. Another AX400, who had been found near a dumpster over a month ago, who's leg had been oddly taken off. 

  None had any suspects or leads, yet all seemed to match up quite well.

  You leaned back in your chair, staring at your screen with resolve. You could understand why no one had suspected a thirium gathering ring, but you couldn't understand why such blatant serial killer behavior went unnoticed. 

  "Hey Toaster," spoke Gavin from across your terminal.

  You leaned over your screen. "Hm?" you responded gently.

  "You... uh... do know its almost eight right?" He paid no attention to you as he clicked away at something on his computer.

  You checked the time. He was right. The entire office was empty. "Why are you still here?" you questioned.

  "Cause you didn't go home either, dipshit."

  "Why does that matter?"

  "I dunno, thought maybe you were doing something important," He mumbled, turning off his computer and standing up from his chair.

  You blinked. There was a feeling you weren't well acquainted with gripping you. "I've been here for one day and I've already made a breakthrough in, what seems to be, an ongoing issue here in Detroit."

  "Why do you talk like that? Its getting on my nerves."

  You watched his eyes. You wanted to say something neutral or possibly snarky to match his tone. But it was as if your words somehow got caught in your throat. "Like... what?"

  "You're so emotionless. Even for an android. Its weird."

  "I spent the entire five months of my existence working for an opportunity to have this career. I haven't had time to explore the realm of my emotions or interests yet." You gritted your teeth as you stared at a victim's picture on your monitor, hating the verbal confirmation of something you had been ignoring for quite a while.

  Gavin walked over to your side of the cubicle, leaning back against an empty space as he watched your screen. You observed him out of the corner of your vision as you pretended to focus on the task at hand. He tapped his hands on your desk. 

  "I get what you mean," he responded with a sigh. "I'm sure you know, but the unemployment rate is pretty fuckin' high. True for when I was younger, too." 

  You nodded, watching him with a blank expression.

  He leaned down, raising his eyebrows. "This was one of the only options I had. Even then, everyone knew it was just a matter of time before androids replaced cops too." He looked behind you, towards the old pods for the police androids. "It keeps you on your toes, you know? Knowing you could be replaced any day by somethin' you have no chance of competing with."

  You smirked. "Well, I don't have that many advantages compared to a human." You picked at your nails as you spoke. "But I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable. I'm trying to learn."

  "Learn what?" he laughed in an unsure tone.

  "How to be a good partner, cop, person..." you responded. "And useful. I have to adjust to my lack of normal detective android abilities."

  "Wait, I didn't mean it like..." he shook his head.

  "What?"

  He groaned. "Listen, that was just me being a hardass. Don't take it too personal- even if it is true." he corrected.

  You smiled to yourself. "Yes, I get what you're saying. Thank you."

  "D-don't thank me for cussing you out," he mumbled. "the fuck's wrong with you..."

  Feeling a lot better about your situation, you turned your attention back to the file on your computer. "I noticed some similar cases to the one we had today," you started. "they're all androids that had limbs removed."

  "Yeah?" Gavin leaned down to inspect your screen. "That is kinda weird."

  You nodded, scrolling through the text. "Yes. I found it odd no one else noticed this pattern." 

  "Well, you're probably the only one who's done a full reading on them all." 

  You nodded in agreement. "That's a fair point." 

  He crossed his arms. "Are they taking body parts as souvenirs?"

  "I don't believe so. Its not the same part each time. Also, the limb is actually found in most instances," you explained. "I think removing a limb is the perpetrator's way of extracting thirium efficiently."

  "So its an easy and direct way of getting thirium from an android?" 

  "I think so, yes. And they're trying to hide it by doing it at different times to different androids. I beli-"

  "Wait-"

  "-eve the secondary damage to Claire's biocomponents was done in an effort to throw us off. What was you saying?"

  He pointed to the screen. "There is one thing they all have in common," 

  "What's that?"

  He looked between you and your desktop. "Well, they're all housekeeping models."

[sapphiresassenach]

A Far Away Infinity

This is a longer chapter. I couldn’t find a way to break it up, so happy reading! Also don’t hate me and just trust.  Enjoy and let me know what you think! Also also, I wanted to get this up quickly, so I edited fast and there might be spelling errors (as per usual) sorry (:

Part 1 2

Part 3 // Broken Shards and Torn Hearts //

~Five Years Earlier~

The moment she first felt Jamie inside her was the moment that all the pieces fit into place, both physically and mentally. She knew deep down that she loved him, but that moment she felt him – hard and aching for her – she knew with her heart, mind and body that he was for her.

His body was heavy on top of her, but she liked the feel of his weight. Their pace was slow in contrast to their initial speed, that first feeling of something vaguely taboo but more thrilling than either of them had ever felt before.

Jamie’s face had been pressed tightly into her neck since the first inch he came into her. Gasping with each forward movement until he had filled her completely. It wasn’t either of their first times but it felt like a whole new experience. Like sex was suppose to feel between two people when it was real. Nothing to fake, nothing to prove, just pure, unadulterated passion.

Pressing her legs tightly against his hips, she put a hand on the small of his back, which was damp from his exertion, and inhaled while pushing his body, urging him to move.

Both let out a moan as he started to find their rhythm, twining their hands together as their bodies were twined into each other.

They kissed, touched, tasted and rubbed, a silent declaration between the whispers of their skins touching that they would learn every inch of one another.

Hips moving steady and fast, then slow and gentle, made the sliding of their bodies feel like they were being set on fire. Jamie’s moans made her smile and she watched his face as she wrapped her legs around him, watching it contort into a vision of almost painful pleasure.

“God,” she mumbled, closing her eyes against the sensation, the rasping of his moving thighs against hers. Her hands clutched his shoulders and he bit into her own as they came closer to the end. Each moment bringing them closer to their future and what was bound to come next after the climax of their decision.

She thought she knew what love was and knew what sex was supposed to be about. But with Jamie, somehow, it was all new.

Later, they were both lying on their backs, still catching their breath as he gently played with a curl of her hair that was on his chest as she cuddled close to his shoulder.

“Is this weird for you?” She asked softly, half terrified to hear his response. They hadn’t talked much at all since that first kiss that lead them here, naked and on his bed.

“No,” he smiled and moved his head to kiss her forehead, lingering and breathing in their combined scent. “It feels right.”

Smiling like a school girl, she buried her face into his chest as he ran his hand down her back.

“Everything will be different now,” she kissed the hallow of his chest, playing with the hairs there.

The truth of her words startled her. No longer could they ever be just friends, nor did she want to be. But there was no going back from knowing his body and feeling it inside her. Knowing the intimate secrets that only they could share.

A finger pulled her chin up to look at him, his smile melting her fears. And he didn’t need to answer, he kissed her hands, biting her pinky and abruptly flipped her over onto her back.

Kissing her, he stripped her worries and doubts with his lips and silent promises. And then the kiss grew and grew until he was hard against her again and she was tugging him to where she wanted him. To where she would always want him from now on.

“It will be different,” he said into her mouth with a gasp at the end as he pushed and pulled against her. “But I swear, everyday will just get better.”

Memories from her night with Jamie flashed before her eyes as she looked down to Frank on one knee. She saw the life she wanted and also the life that was being offered before her with a sparkling ring. It would be easy enough to say yes, but could she do that to herself? A promise of a life that would be stable, but lacked the passion that she had once felt.

“Frank I –

Frank’s eyes, which had been filled with nothing but excitement and maybe a bit of smugness, turned to something sour. The brown orbs squinted in frustration as they watched her hesitate.  

“Can I talk to you privately?”

The sour in his eyes turned to anger as the words left her mouth and she could tell he was clenching his teeth together in furry at his public embarrassment, but he quickly smiled tightly for appearance and offered her his arm. 

“Of course, dear,” he said pleasantly but with intense feeling simmering behind the tone.  One of his biggest flaws was his temper, but he usually kept it tightly under wraps. 

Tonight, she thought, might be an exception.

As they left the table, she couldn’t help but quickly glance back. Most were suddenly very interested in their dinner utensils or were trying to make it seem like they were engaged in intriguing conversation. Except one.

Jamie’s eyes were focused on her, tight with concern. His mouth was pressed together as if he was keeping himself from speaking. As she met his eyes, his own flickered down to his lap and the insistent pressure of Frank’s grasp pulled her into an empty, private room.

 Frank shuffled them both in and closed the door behind them, though she knew he would have much rather slammed it shut. 

He grasped the door handle so hard, she could see his veins popping out. He didn’t turn to look at her though and took a deep breath, then slowly released it before speaking.

“Tell me. Is it because of him?”

She wasn’t expecting that. An angry demand of why she didn’t say yes. A frustrated reprimand of how they needed to take their relationship forward maybe. But certainly not that.

“Who?”

Frank turned sharply and gave her a look of exasperation. “Jamie, of course. Did you not say yes because Jamie was there?”

Rolling her eyes, in annoyance and but also to keep them from him, she scoffed. “Frank, this has nothing to do with Jamie and everything to do with you and me. I told you I wasn’t ready for marriage, but you didn’t listen to me and did this,” she waved vaguely in the direction of the table.

“You humiliated me!” 

“You shouldn’t have proposed!”

“God dammit, Claire,” he shook his head as his hands curled to fists, clearly wishing there was something for him to hit. “You know what? I’m leaving. We can discuss where to go from here later.”

And in a second, he was gone.

 Leaning against the wall and rubbing her temples, she tried to think of how she could go back to the table without it being the most uncomfortable situation. She didn’t think she could take the whispers or awkward eye twitches.

She stayed in the room for a moment, letting Frank get ahead of her and drive away before heading out herself.

Irrational tears filled her eyes and instead of facing her fears, she turned and left through the employee’s exit.  

The cool air outside felt like a dose of a much needed medicine to bring her over sensitive skin some peace. The restaurant had been stuffy and she felt like the heat of the fires would consume her. She sucked in the taste of the fresh air as if she has just come up from the water. And she supposed she had.

Pouring herself a drink about an hour later, she felt terrible about leaving her friends and Jamie, who had come to see her, at the restaurant with no explanation.  She had gotten a few text asking if she was alright, but she offered nothing but a simple yes. There was no emotional capability in her to offer more.

Two drinks and an episode of TV later, her door bell rang. Christ, it was probably Frank. Groaning, she eased up, letting herself get righted before heading over to open the door.

But instead of angry brown eyes, she was met with concerned blue ones. 

“Jamie?”

He smiled at her, “I just wanted to make sure ye were alright,” he paused for a moment, looking behind her, “He’s no here, is he?”

Letting out a bitter laugh, she shook her head. “Nope, just me and my thoughts. Come in.”

As he walked into the room, he gave her a brief squeeze, no where near as long as she would have liked, but she hugged him hard and then let go, arms feeling empty. All she wanted was to collapse into him forever and let him smooth her worries away. But instead, she poured him a drink as they both sat on the sofa, fidgeting.

“I said no,” she said abruptly a few minutes later.

“Oh, aye?”

“Yeah...I just...I don’t think we are right for each other,” she clutched the glass, looking intently into the amber liquid. Jamie had once told her she had eyes the color of whiskey.

He moved close to her, pressing their thighs together as he put a comforting arm around her. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was longing repressed for five years, but she wanted nothing more than to feel his kiss. To forget the events of tonight and just feel.

She glanced up to see him looking down at her with burning eyes.

The temptation was there. It had always been there, right in front of them. Every day there was an urge to text him, to call him, to get on a plane and fly across the ocean to tell him she had made a mistake.

I’m sorry. I love you. I always have. You lit a fire in me that never dies, but subtly burns until the spark of your touch comes again.

The atmosphere around them was tense with possibility. He wanted to kiss her. She knew that if she leaned in, she would feel those soft lips against hers, getting to taste the full red lip that she had been longing for. 

“Claire,” he whispered, bringing both hands into her hair, entangling them, urging her closer. “Claire.” 

The longing in his voice echoed the feelings in her. His lips were only a half an inch away from hers, but never touching.

No, he would make her decide the final move. It was up to her to bridge the gap of five years gone, to mend the aching hearts she had caused with her actions.

Slowly, she traced his cheek, feeling the stubble and skin, and dragged her fingers down to underneath his jaw, brining him closer.

There was a brief moment of contact, just enough to feel his lips and his warmth before the slamming of the door broke them apart like guilty teens.

 The feeling of dread washed over her like a wet blanket. It was as if her mind was warning her a shit storm was coming before the waves started violently crashing. 

She knew who it was without having to look because her luck could really get no worse tonight.

 She shot Jamie a look to stay where he was before creeping out the few feet into the hall where Frank was just coming around the corner.

The look on his face was something of fierce determination and she instinctively took a small step back from all the energy coming off of his tense body. 

Edging to the part of the hall where he wouldn’t be able to see Jamie in the living room, she crossed her arms and smelled the whiskey coming off him. It was so strong, she felt slightly intoxicated from even his breath. 

“Claire,” his voice slurred, but his eyes were clear. “We need to talk, now.”

 Panicking slightly, she turned back to where he came from and pulled on his sleeve. “Frank, yes. I know, we need to talk, but not now.”

He grabbed onto the arm she had been urging him out with and squeezed, making her wince a little.

“No! It needs to be now,” he tried to grab both of her arms, but she dodged him and they both ran into the side table she had by the door. “Frank! Stop, you’re drunk,” she struggled to get lose of his hold so she could open the door.

“Why didn’t you say yes,” he mumbled against her shoulder as his weight took the breath out of her. “Why?”

He leaned into her too much, making her fall into the table and knocking off her glass candle. “Shit!”

The smell of lavender spread almost as quickly as the broken glass did.

“Claire?” Jamie’s voice was tentative but strong and quickly getting closer. Fuck.

“He’s here?” Frank’s voice was quiet and controlled as if the sound of Jamie’s voice had made him sober. His eyes squinted as Jamie came around the corner of the hall with a concerned face, looking to her immediately, checking for damage.

 “It’s alright,” she waved to the broken candle. “Just an accident.”

Frank continued to stare at Jamie, making him fidget under the scrutiny. Jamie rolled his shoulders and tapped his fingers against his leg. She had no idea what to say, nor did he.

Frank smiled tightly and looked down to his feet, shaking his head back and forth. “I’m no fool,” he spoke quietly, not looking up.

Jaime looked at her confused, but she shrugged.

“I know about you, Jamie,” he said, looking up, eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put her finger on. Maybe acceptable, maybe defiance. “I know how she feels about you.”

Her face went red and she looked down to the glass scattered on the floor. “Frank, I think you should–

“She calls your name in her sleep,” he interrupted her, not paying any mind to anything but his words. “And once even when we were having sex, but she stopped herself before the name could form on her lips.”

“Frank!” She yelled and put her hands in her hair, trying desperately to find a way out of this situation.

She spared at glance at Jamie through her hair, not wanting to make eye contact. His brows were drawn together as he absorbed the words and assessed Frank.

“I know,” Frank whispered again, head rolling down, finally breaking Jamie’s gaze.

Finally, she moved to pick of her phone. “I’m going to call you a cab,” she turned and quickly dialed.

Scoffing, Frank looked to her, a piercing look that felt final. There wasn’t going to be moving past this. 

More quickly than she thought he was able at his level of drunk, he turned, opened the door and was gone. She simply stared out the door like an idiot before moving into action. 

Quickly, she went to grab her coat and keys, shoving on her shoes as Jamie watched with concern. “Where are you going?”

Sighing, she pulled hard to get her black boot over her heel. “He’s drunk. I need to make sure he gets home safe.” 

He reached out to put a hand on hers, stopped her from putting her arms through her sleeves. 

“Claire, I don’t want you out on the streets right now. It’s dangerous.”

“Jamie, I’ll be fine. Please, I need to go,” she mumbled, avoiding his intense gaze. Trying desperately to not think about the words Frank had told him. 

“Don’t do this,” he said, shoving his hands deep into his jean pockets.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t leave this hanging again, don’t leave me hanging again,” he spoke like he was choosing his words with great care.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that after we spent that night together…I wanted everything. I wanted ye but you didn’t want me back. You said I had to go to California and long distance wouldn’t work for us,” the pain in his voice was audible and it brought tears to her eyes.

Looking down at her keys, she spoke with a trembling voice. “I didn’t want to, I wanted to be with you.”

Jamie slammed his fist into the wall hard. “Then why, for Gods sakes, did ye let me go to America?!”

“It was too good an opportunity...I had to let you go,” it wasn’t all a lie she thought as she spoke, throwing her hands into the air. 

At the time, he didn’t see through her, blinded by his own pain. But she couldn’t tell him the whole truth, not without hurting him even more.

“Bullshit, tell me,” he demanded, stepping closer to her, his chest heaving with effort.

She knew that he would find it in her eyes if she lingered, so she turned and grabbed the door knob. “Jamie, I can’t right now, I have to leave.”

“Oh, so ye will just kiss me and then go. At least ye are consistent.”

His words stung like venom, seeping into her skin. She could think of a million things to say. A way to sting him back, a way to comfort him, a way to tell him the truth. But she couldn’t. At least not now while Frank was roaming the streets alone. It may be over between them, but she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something happened to him because of her.

“You know what? We will talk later. I swear. But right now I have to go and find Frank.”

And with that, she turned and opened the door, only to hear the sound of a fist hitting the wall again.

The emotion that Jamie evoked in her stayed while she searching for Frank, finally finding him a few blocks away, throwing up into a bin. He was so drunk she wasn’t even sure if he knew who she was. Maybe that was for the best.

After an hour, she finally managed to get him back into his flat and leave. Satisfied knowing that he was safe. Now, she could go to Jamie.

Pulling out her phone as she waited for a cab, she texted him.

 I found him and got him to his flat. I’m coming back now. Are you still there?

 She pressed send and took a deep breath, exhaling slowing and trying to keep from drowning from this night.

She checked her phone every minute to see if he responded to her. Nothing.

 Hey, I’m sorry. We really need to talk. Please meet me.

 And as she pulled up to her own flat, still nothing. With a thick throat, she wondered if she had ruined things for good. Would they even be friends anymore? Her heart clenched at the thought of never seeing him, never hearing his voice.

“Jamie?” She called as she walked into her place. The glass was still on the floor and all the lights were still on, but he wasn’t there.

“Fuck,” she said as she collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted from the constant emotion. And then a buzzing went off. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she pulled out the pager from her purse, seeing the hospital calling her in. 

As if things couldn’t be worse. Sighing, she got up, gathered her purse back up and decided to text Jamie one more time.

 I have to go into the hospital. Don’t know when I’ll get out. Please answer me.

Nurses and doctors flew around her as she walked into the waiting room for the ER. The flurry of activity wasn’t that unusual, but the energy was electric, as it usually was when a big accident happened. She saw quite a few bloodied patients on gurneys, coming in from the ambulances outside.

Walking briskly past the waiting room, she turned to go through the ER to get to the changing room so she could get to work and find the doctor she shadowed.

“Claire!” 

She turned to see Joe running towards her, out of breath and his scrubs smeared with blood.

“Don’t go in there,” he gasped, putting his hands onto his knees as he fought for breath. “I told them not to call you in to work.”

 “Joe, what’s wrong? I’m fine to work,” she patted him on the back but a sickening feeling came into her stomach when she met his eyes as he looked up at her. No.

“Claire…I’m sorry but please–

She pushed past him and into the busy ER where patients were being treated or waiting for surgery, looking frantically around until a familiar mop of red made her breath leave her chest in a wild gasp.

Jamie lay on a gurney covered in blood and bandages, his head clutched by a nurse while a doctor was busy prepping him. Eyes closed.

That was the last thing she saw before blackness.

Continued here

[mymelodyisme]

I found one of my lost (I still think of it but.. lazy) stories

It's called Pendulum and I might have posted it already ??? Whatever. Here you go! ------- Rain, it pours from the heavens above We stand beneath it, soaking, drenching our visions of long lost dreams Hope is lost for the unborn, for the renewed, heavy hearts, heavy souls create a system within a systematic life There are no more dreams under the one who's dreams come true, the one who alters reality to fit a medium, the one who's hope was lost long ago. Faith, trust, all those that bind the mortality to a human being gone, gone, never to return, never to save us from ourselves and our wicked ideas. Suffering, disaster, death, it all comes to quickly, too quickly, were blindsided, we fall, we fall to our knees in the rain, they speed towards us, right on, straight, they collide, splatter, splat- "Collin! Get up! Breakfast is ready! Collin looks up from his desk, the sun is shining brightly through his turquoise curtains and onto his notebook. He glances at the grandfather clock ticking away a few feet away. He had no idea how long he had been writing, it has seemed like just minutes ago he promised himself he would go to bed after "just one more sentence." He sighed heavily and shook his head standing from his chair. He was all too used to this situation by now. It had been a week since he started writing his novel, and since then, he hadn't had a wink of sleep. He dressed himself in the usual attire, a large grey sweater much too big against his body, black jeans, and green sneakers. He didn't care much for brushing himself off today, after all it was a Friday, and who would even come close enough to care about his rotten breath. He gathered his belongings and quickly made his way downstairs where his mother was slaving away at the kitchen stove. Smoke filled the room from corner to corner. A burnt pile of waffles was stacked neatly on a plate on the table right next to a half empty bottle of maple syrup. His mother wasn't the best cook, but she tried. "I'm sorry about the waffles... It seems I can't cook anything right," she said just as a spark flew into her face from her morning eggs. She jumped back dropping the pan and its contents all over the kitchen floor. Blankly, she stared at it, unmoving for quite a long time before she knelt down and scooped them up with her bare hands. Collin sat at the table quietly, ignoring all this, but very well knowing of its happening, for this too, had been very normal. She joined him shortly, with a bowl of cereal, her replacement meal, and a cup of orange juice, so sour it could shrivel any decent human's tongue. They sat in complete silence, not that that was also unusual. They didn't have the best relationship, no, not since Collin's father died, and his mother became a useless old women who couldn't work. He didn't resent her, but he didn't admire her either, in fact, he know what to make of her at all. "Collin," she broke the silence, "have you gotten any sleep at all lately? You look exhausted. Your eyes have bags, and you shouldn't have any at your age." Collin looked down at the charred remains of his waffles. He had no desire to converse, but he supposed there was no point in not trying. "No," he muttered softly, "I've been busy." His mother frowned, she was aware of the book he had been writing, but wasn't told by Collin himself, so she darned not mutter a word hoping he would willingly share his little secret. Yet, to no avail, today too was not the day he would admit to his mother's hopes. She stared at him silently, the only source of noise came from their soft breaths and slow beating hearts. Finally, she decided she had had enough and would let on that she knew about his novel. "Collin, have you... Taken up any hobbies lately? I remember when I was your age how I used to be pretty into the idea of poetry. I had a journal full of the worst sonnets ever written, but as a kid, I thought they were the entire world." Collin didn't flinch. She pressed on. "I loved the idea of making something all my own simply from my own imagination. However, if I tried to do it now I'm sure it would still be rubbish. Er, have you ever written anything? Anything... I could possibly read?" Collins looked up with a long sigh. He shook his head in disappointment. "If you knew about my novel, you could have just mentioned it. There's no need to play innocent, Claire." Claire frowned and rubbed at her arm guiltily. Her son wasn't the easiest person the get along with, and he sure wasn't one to speak out against much. "I just... Wanted to give you some space.. I was hoping you'd eventually tell me on your own but-" "But nothing." He stood from his chair and clutched his school bag. "I'm going to be late." Without another word he turned and walked away and towards the door. His mother's voice staggered as she said her goodbyes to her teenaged son. Collin said nothing in return, and instead grimly walked to school. "Oh Collin!" A sweet high-pitched voice squealed from right above the school steps. Collin looked up to make the admiring gaze of none other than Kathryn Wallace. Kathryn waited every single day at the top of the steps to greet Collin and to follow him around like a lost duckling, even if they did have most classes together. She was a rather odd one, much more than Collin himself, but she was a sweet girl with a great and vibrant attitude. However, despite her vivacious personality, Collin never payed her much attention, even to her luminous short red hair. He quickly walked up the steps managing a small wave as he passed her by and continued on down the office halls, with Kathryn's footsteps booming directly behind him. "Collin, oh Collin! You look mighty nice today, don't you? Well, despite your hair... And the same sweater you war two days ago... And your eyes... But hey you always manage to look amazing... At least to me." It was no secret that Kathryn had feeling for Collin, she made sure the entire world new. Anything from dates proposals, party invitations, and love letters, she always had a way to let him know she loved him. Unfortunately for her, Collin didn't feel the same, although, he did feel a slight twinge of guilt for having her try so hard when he's clearly not interested. They walked aimlessly, until it was decided that a nearby lunch table rested just a few feet from their first class was just the stop. Kathryn rested her backpack on top of the table and began to dump its contents all over. "Look here, I've got something for you Collin! Well I did at least," she began to dig through her mess, "just where is that darned thing?" Collin sighed and pulled out the only object he'd never expect Kathryn to have. It was a thin golden ring with two small amethyst jewels at its center. "Oh you found it! Do... Do you like it? Dad showed me how to make them, I used some old earrings I didn't like anymore." Collin closely examined the ring, taking in each of its smaller details. He didn't know what to say for a long time, but he quickly recovered his thoughts and smiled ever so gently. "It's beautiful, Kathryn. Thank you." Just as he slipped the ring onto his finger, he caught a glimpse of Kathryn's face burning a passionate red. She lifted the collar of her turtleneck and quickly looked away, forgetting that her ears blush too. Students began to pile into the class shortly after. In went Collin and Kathryn following closely behind. They sat patiently on their seats waiting for the teacher to begin class. Collin liked to watch as the students shuffled into their seats, it was surprisingly calming, and surely entertaining. One student that never failed to catch his eye was a fair skinned student named Haden. Haden was a posh and polished student with an attractiveness so absolute he could make anyone melt. He was student body president and a star athlete. He excelled in all of he finest arts, and was even more incredible academically. One would say he's flawless, and one would be right. To Collin, he was perfect. He was the most perfect human being, and yet... Somehow, he didn't seem as happy as he looked. That intrigued Collin to no end. After all, he liked a good mystery, and Haden was full of them. "Alright class, let us begin," and thus, another school day began, and eventually came to an end. Collin hurried away before Kathryn could find him once again. He didn't hate her, but he didn't love or enjoy her either. She was just there, an admirer, a creeper of sorts. In his novel, there was a character who had a striking resemblance to her. She dies in fifth chapter. If prompted that Collin wrote in Kathryn but with a different name, he would deny all claims, but in truth, it would have been exactly as they said. Each and every character in his novel was based upon a person he knew in real life. Collin would be killed if anyone locally were to read it, which is why he continuously held it close to his person. Becoming slightly paranoid, he dug his fingers into his backpack and felt around for the leathery bind on his book. Nothing. He opened it completely and peered inside with his own eyes. Still nothing. He began to sweat, his heart pulsed, and his fingers twitched. He threw his bag back over his shoulder and looked around frantically. Where- where!? School... I have to- He bit into his lip accidentally and realized that he hadn't had it at all. He had carried it downstairs with his things when he met his mother. He rested it upon the table, and left it there mindlessly, and forgot of its existence due to the lack of sleep. Quickly he began to sprint home. His mother should never read of the things he wrote. It may just be a story, but it was close to a journal, it made him feel safe and secure. Just as he reached the door for his home, a loud crash and the sound of shattering glass took him aback. He carefully made his way inside and found his mother standing in front of a broken wine bottle and it's spilled contents. She looked up at him with unsettled eyes. Clearly she was drunk, and it wasn't a good thing. His mother had begun to drink again when Collin's father died. He realized why she had to stop in the first place, she was... Different... When she was drunk. Violent, crude, and dismal. Claire stepped forward into the mess and laughed slightly. She didn't wince at all when her foot was pierced with the glass shards. Instead, she reached out and slapped her son across the face. "You little brat... I'm no... I'm no fucking drunkard." She made her way to the counter where Collin's leather book was rested. He rubbed his cheek and ran for it, but she took it before he could and opened it up. "'Alice chugged down her tenth bottle of beer and looked around. Without hesitating a moment she ripped off her shirt and drank down another bottle as the men eyed her intensely, some disgusted, others intrigued.' I'm no fucking whore. I'm your... I'm your mother, you should respect me!" She stumbled back into the counter, almost burning her hand at the heated stove. Collin took a step back and tried to reason with her. "That isn't you, it's just a character... She's-" his mother cut him off by tossing a fork to his head. Collin ducked just in time. "She isn't just a character... She's me, she's me you idiot. I know you think this is what I am, but, I'm no whore... And you, you made yourself a hero, but you're nothing but a fucking ant in this fucking world. Well look at this, I got some editing to do." She gripped the top of the page, "let's just get rid of this 'Alice' character," and tore the entire passage from the book. Collin, without hesitating, jumped at her. They struggled for a total of five minutes, clawing at each other, tugging at the book, and almost beating the complete life out of themselves. Collin pressed his palm to her face trying to distract her grip from the book, she tried to rip it apart, but failed miserably. He finally managed to grab her wrists when she flew her head backwards into the nearest cupboard. He squeezed them tightly, forcing her to lose her grip and to shake in desperate pain. Collin jumped down and caught the book just before it hit the floor. He hugged it victoriously, little did he know his mother was hardly done with him yet. And with a large push, he flew backward into the shards of glass, piercing his palm and his back. He winced hard as they went deeply into his skin, his mother laughed heartily at his misery. Collin looked down at his palm, blood rushed from the large cut. He bit his lip and forced himself up hardly. The pain in his back was becoming too much. He stepped back, and when he realized his mother wasn't well enough herself to follow, he ran away and to his room. He sat quietly on his bed and removed the pieces of glass that pierced his skin, some were small while others were fairly large. It took him a while to gather the courage to rip out the one from his palm, but as soon as he did he didn't know what else to do but to lie down and let the pain pass all on its own. Meanwhile, he cursed his mother, his life, and all that there was to be cursed. He closed his eyes, fighting back the knot in his throat and the tears escaping his eyes. Images of pure darkness filed his mind, images of death, of fire, of wonder, and guilt. He didn't know he had fallen asleep. When he awoke, he had no recollection of any of the events after running away... that just seemed to be a blur. Clearly he had taken the glass out, as seen by the large puddle of blood where his hand had been lying. He sat up forgetting he shouldn't put so much pressure on this palm and looked around at the distorted room. It was bright outside, too bright. The room was illuminated a bright blue shade much too bright for his sore eyes. He wondered if he had been asleep all night long. He stood and got himself ready for the day, stopping for a moment at the mirror to notice that he looked more alive than any other day and feeling life was about to change for the better. He didn't stop to eat breakfast that morning, he gathered his things and quickly made his way past his mother and to the door. However, before he cold leave he was halted by a hand resting in his shoulder. "Sweetheart... I'm so sorry... About yesterday. I overreacted... I...," her voiced cracked ever so slightly, Collin noticed, "it's been so hard for me... Since your father died... And you... You're so difficult to care for-" "I'm not difficult Claire, you're just too drunk to notice how easy it is to care for a child who wants nothing to do with your crap." Collin pulled his arm away from her tightening grip and turned around to face her. Her teeth were clenched, and her breath smelled like whiskey. Without a warning, she slapped him across the face twice as hard as before. "Respect your mother, you little ass!" He stumbled back again, but this time he had enough. He gripped his things and pushed her back onto the floor. She hit her head against the refrigerator and fell immediately unconscious. Collin breathed rather hard in that moment. He pressed his sleeve over his mouth and leaned against the wall forgetting yet again of his wound, not that he cared too much for the pain anymore. He forced himself to catch his breath and recompiled himself looking down at his mother. He rubbed gently at his cheek and whispered to himself softly. "You can burn in hell." Then he left, not even bothering to look back. Collin went to school, met Kathryn, reread his own own book, and rested his flailing mind. He sighed and he dreamt and he cursed the entire world, but eventfully that world caught up with him, and it was time to return home to a pathetic mother who drank away her emotions, who didn't care for her child's happiness and just fully neglected him, whose sober moments lasted no more than five minutes at a time, who lost the title of a mother when her husband died two years ago. Collin ran his fingers through his hair and walked on home, feeling slightly guilty about being rude to her, maybe it wasn't completely her fault, his father's death has been hard on him too, he no longer was the A/B average student he once was, nor was he as lively as a child. He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and turned left, the nearest convenience store would be five minutes away. He could easily pick up some flowers try to make up with her. And so he went. He chose the brightest sets of pink tulips and a set of their favorite candy, a candy they once shared in their happiest times in a cozy blanket with his father. For the first time in a week, Collin genuinely felt nice about his actions. Yes, he wasn't so happy earlier, but now he's moved past that hoping to make amends. He whistled a soft tune walking out of the store and he whistled a soft tune walking all the way home. He continued to whistle softly even when then the flowers fell from his shaking hands as the firemen yelled at him to stay back as the crimson red flames engulfed his house whole. His mother, they said, was still inside... burning in hell.

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Worst Movies Of 2016

If it’s a New Year, then that means it’s time for my annual surveys of the year’s best and worst movies. As is usually the case, I’m starting with my worst of list first, almost like a child having to eat the healthy food on their plate before getting to the tastier food that they love afterward and man, I have a lot of bad movies to deal with from 2016.  Some of the films here are ones that many other critics also hated, but I also have a group of movies that were critically acclaimed that I just couldn’t stand, which makes for a more interesting list in my eyes, given my need to explain why I hate films that others love at the same time that I pile onto the more widely-loathed stinkers.  

As is my custom, I have my 10 worst films in order of how much I despised them, followed by my 10 dishonorable mentions in no particular order.  Also, as is my custom, I’m going to use this time to highlight some of the most visibly disliked films of the year that were not among the 72 films I saw in 2016, just to provide the answer of “I didn’t see it” to the question “why is [insert movie here] not on your list?” As such, if you’re expecting to see films like Gods Of Egypt, Warcraft, Assassin’s Creed, Collateral Beauty, Norm Of The North, Fifty Shades Of Black, Zoolander 2, London Has Fallen, Batman: The Killing Joke, Max Steel, Allegiant, Boo: A Madea Halloween, God’s Not Dead 2, Inferno and Nine Lives here, I’m sorry to disappoint you (and there are likely even more so-called bad films than those that I couldn’t get to).  Then again, I’m comfortable with the 20 movies I picked, as they were all deeply unpleasant in their own ways, and some in similar ways that kind of emphasize some pretty bad trends that hopefully, we won’t have to deal with in the year 2017 (or at least, not deal with as much).   Also, one more thing.  I usually put a screenshot of each movie in question above each of the entries on both of my lists, but Tumblr apparently is deleting this entire essay when I try to do that now. Maybe this list is too long and there’s a memory constraint or something, but because of that, I made the tough decision of not including them this year. So sorry if this looks bland without them, but hopefully, it won’t diminish the lists or the films I’m discussing. With all that said, let’s dive in: 

1. The Boss Melissa McCarthy is the female equivalent of Adam Sandler.  I’m sorry I have to say that, because I do think she’s a talented actress and comedienne, but even so, and as I’ve said countless times before, it’s been 13 years since the only movie with her in it that I recommended, The Life Of David Gale and, I’m getting sick of it.  Oh sure, she was good TV’s Mike And Molly and in near-miss films like The Heat and Bridesmaids and, to be fair, she was in a movie I liked this year, Central Intelligence, even though it was just an under 2-minute cameo (so I’d argue that it doesn’t really count), but outside of that, I’ve been just about ready to give up on her in the movie world and, after her hateful, crass, lazy and never-funny comedy The Boss, enough is enough, hence why I’m comparing her to the much reviled Sandler.  It’s a pretty apt comparison when you really think about it; like the worst films of Sandler's, McCarthy is creatively involved with this one (she co-wrote it with her husband, Ben Falcone, and he also directed it, which was also the case with 2014’s 3rd worst film, Tammy, a terrible film that is, amazingly, better than this), the movie is put together in a slapdash fashion that shows nothing but contempt for her audience, it uses a licensed soundtrack for no reason except to waste money that should have went to writing jokes (it took me months to listen to Foreigner's I Want To Know What Love Is again without being painfully reminded of the horrible scenes in this movie that used it as a punchline and on-the-nose plot reference), it paints her horrible lead character as a messiah, despite the fact the that she treats every character that isn’t exactly like her like garbage and then, in the grossly hypocritical third act, it has her character playing the victim card and crying/moralizing to the audience about how “family is important.” Oh yeah, and like Sander’s worst efforts, it’s also the worst movie of the year; can’t forget that detail.

McCarthy stars as Michelle Darnell, a self-made multi-billionaire character that came from McCarthy’s days with the Groundlings comedy troupe who, as the movie opens, we see as a young girl who was given up by her parents and, every few years, the families that adopted her toss her back on the steps of the Catholic orphanage.  I guess it’s supposed to be funny that no one wants Michelle, but the film has no explanation as to why this is and repeats this joke in bad sitcom fashion about 4 times, making it cruel and sad.  As an adult, Michelle has tossed family and her “tragic” past aside to become the 47th richest woman in the world and expresses that in her group of self-help books and to her fans in sold-out Chicago stadium appearances.  This catches the eye of her corporate rival, Renault, played by Peter Dinklage, while meanwhile, Michelle’s long-time assistant Claire, played by Kristen Bell, is a single mother who’s still waiting on that raise Michelle promised her, despite Michelle ignoring and berating her for it and despite Claire’s undying commitment to her.  That ends up falling by the wayside after Michelle is arrested for insider trading, resulting her going to jail for a little while and having all of her assets seized when she’s released.  At that time, her lack of family, friends and funds mean Michelle has nowhere to go, so she convinces Claire, who’s now working a new cubicle job, to let her stay with her and her daughter, Rachel (Ella Anderson).  After a meeting with former colleagues ends with Michelle telling them off and then, her falling/rolling down the stairs (because it just wouldn’t be a Melissa McCarthy movie without cheap fat-shaming somewhere in it, right?), she tastes some of Claire’s homemade brownies and gets an idea. Considering Rachel is part of her school’s Girl Scouts equivalent, the Dandelions, and that they make a lot of money for charity off of cookie sales, Michelle thinks that she can turn the making and selling of Claire’s brownies into a business for herself and then, use that to get back on her feet.  This sets off a war with the Dandelions and one of the mothers, Helen (Annie Mumolo), while also getting Renault’s attention, who schemes to keep Michelle from getting her riches back.  Meanwhile, Claire starts showing interest in Mike (Tyler Labine), the one person at her work who’s not a total jerk.

Now that’s not a terrible setup for a comedy on paper, as it does introduce many opportunities for satire regarding the business world, both big and small, life of a single mother and Girl Scout culture, particularly as it relates to mothers becoming more dedicated and cutthroat about it than their children.  This movie, though, has nothing insightful or funny to say about any of those things and its attempts to do so are cheap, perspective-free and hateful. Take the scenes with the Dandelions, especially when Michelle goes to their meetings.  What’s the angle?  Because Michelle only cares about herself and money, she’s appalled at the idea that they do good non-profit work for people and that the girls get life experience from it, so she goes on a bunch of those trademark Melissa McCarthy rants with overly elaborate and vulgar parallels to people and situations to ridicule and shame them, particularly after Helen says “we can’t trust Michelle with the brownie business idea because she’s a convicted felon.”  I think we’re supposed to hate the admittingly bitchy Helen, but she does raise a valid point there and, when combined with Michelle’s threats of violence and her cartoonish/hateful attacks (including cruel mocking of the leader and her recently deceased cat and some homophobic/sexist predictions about some of these innocent young girls who haven’t done anything wrong), sorry, I’m siding with Helen.  The former is something Michelle acts upon in what’s the most disgusting and shameful scene in any movie this year (and, given the cinematic garbage I saw in 2016, that’s saying a lot), where Michele and her group of scouts get into a violent street fight with Helen and her girls. It’s supposed to be a satire, I guess, of drug turf wars, but we’re literally watching a 46-year-old woman leading and helping her young workers beat the ever-living hell out of 10-year-old girls by punching them, kicking them, slamming them onto the ground and into cars, which we see happen in slow-motion while we hear the audio relishing in the sounds of their cracking bones and screams of pain.  I’m sorry, but there is NOTHING funny about that, especially with how it’s handled here, and anyone who thinks it is and thinks that the girls deserved to be assaulted for standing up against Michelle may want to get a mental evaluation.

Then again, that scene doesn’t matter anyway in the grand scheme of things because it’s never referenced again.  You’d think that a violent assault of young Girl Scouts would at least lead to a news report of the streets literally running with blood and fire from that, Claire asking about the bruises that her daughter and former boss have or, perhaps, Michelle going back to jail for that, but no, and that’s because that scene, and for that matter, most of this film’s scenes, are freestanding from the plot, drag on forever (thanks to the endless and repetitive back and forth riffing by the cast, especially McCarthy) and don’t add anything to it.  Even in a coarse and broad glorified sitcom like this, you need to have some consistency but, and again, this goes back to the Adam Sandler parallel, they’re only in here because McCarthy thought they were funny and was too lazy to care if they actually fit into the damn movie in the first place.  If they actually were humorous, that would have been one thing, but since they’re not, all we notice is how many holes this simple story has in it and how the characters’ behaviors and outlooks between scenes change for no reason other than because the movie demands it, the latter of which make it really hard to like, believe or care about anyone here, especially with a third act that’s asking us to do that with its liar-reveal trope and the aforementioned emotional pleas by McCarthy.  To say we’re not buying either when they come is a massive understatement or, to put another way, I hated McCarthy’s character so much in this film that, in the scene where she orders fugu and we find out it was incorrectly and perhaps fatally prepared, I was strongly rooting for the fugu.  

As far as the other problems with this movie, the supporting performances are flat (Tyler Labine is dull and lacks chemistry with Kristen Bell as the love interest and Bell does her uptight and sexually-repressed workaholic bit again), annoying (Annie Mumolo and Peter Dinklage, the latter of whom, between this and Pixels, can’t catch a break in live-action comedies) and/or wasted (Cecily Strong and Kathy Bates, the latter apparently willing to jump into any garbage comedy for work nowadays, between this, Tammy and, apparently, Bad Santa 2), the pacing is bad, even with the film being only 99 minutes, the script is awful, the direction is poor and, if it wasn’t already obvious that this film was slapped together, the atrocious editing will remind you with its abrupt scene transitions and jump cuts, which is most noticeable in the scene with Michelle and Rachel riding the El Train (I swear, the jump cuts in that scene to show a passage of time seem to happen at random, as if it were a bad made-for-TV movie and that’s an insult to direct-to-TV movies).  The only positive of this movie, which it can’t actually claim responsibility for, is that, because I had enough points on my AMC Stubs card, I actually got to see this atrocity for free.  Even then, I still feel like I was ripped off and, after suffering through this, it’s going to take one hell of a comeback vehicle for McCarthy to cinematically redeem herself in my eyes, especially since, between this and another awful 2016 comedy she was in (which you’ll be seeing later on this list), it’s clear she hasn’t learned her lesson.  I guess, like Sandler, she’s settling for dreck and just happy that she has another box-office semi-hit with The Boss, but soon enough, she’ll have to learn the hard way that there’s a difference between a movie making a lot of money and the reaction of the customers who gave said money to a “financially successful” film.  To Mrs. McCarthy, I ask this; you and your films are profitable, but what’s your reputation worth?  To me, I’d say about a buck fifty now, and I’m being nice.

 2. The Nice Guys

OK, I know I’m pretty much alone on despising this critically praised period crime/buddy comedy hybrid from co-writer/director Shane Black, whose previous credits include Lethal Weapon and Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, but I had the absolute worst time watching The Nice Guys and I felt completely unclean after sitting through this meaningless, insufferably self-satisfied, never interesting, never funny and often gallingly vile and immoral piece of garbage.  Listen, I know that’s exactly the kind of puritanical response to a film like this that would make the filmmakers and its fans point and say that there’s no value to my opinion (which is kind of the tactic used against some of the vocal critics of the supposed immoralities of Black’s 1991 film, The Last Boy Scout, unseen by me), but I have no problem with violent, dark and even darkly humorous boundary pushing films similar to this when they’re done well, as was the case with many of Quentin Tarantino’s films like Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction or, thinking back to this year, similar films like Deadpool and especially Keanu. But I’m also not made of stone, so when a reprehensible movie like this comes along and tries to hide itself in its own self-importance and being “just a movie,” while having no care for the quality needed to justify the touchy subject material it’s trafficking in, I deal with it on both the grounds of taste and good filmmaking that it’s violating (and on the level of taste alone, this is amazingly an even more despicable and horrible film than The Boss was).

The film is in 1977 Los Angeles and opens with the death of a fictional porn star named Misty Mountains. Enter recently widowed private investigator Holland March (Ryan Gosling), who’s hired by Misty’s aunt to find her, despite Holland saying that Misty’s death is common knowledge and thinking that the aunt mistook her for Amelia (Margaret Qualley), a teenage girl who’s hired a private law enforcer named Jackson Healy (Russell Crowe) for protection. Jackson learns from Amelia that Holland is searching for her, so Jackson goes to Holland’s house to make him stop his search, namely, by deliberately breaking Holland’s arm (because temporary paralysis is so funny and deserving of cheaply making fun of people over, right Hollywood?).  After this, though, Amelia goes missing and Jackson is attacked by a group of thugs also looking for her, after which, he Holland again and realizes that they share the same goal and reason for wanting to find her.  So, the two team up to find Amelia, with Holland accompanied by his young daughter, Holly (Angourie Rice), who’s more grown up than she seems, given her earlier interactions with Jackson and her learning how to deal with her father’s rampant alcoholism.   The rest of the movie involves their search for Amelia, which reveals a complicated conspiracy and crime-ring related to the Department of Justice, the auto industry, the California air pollution/gas shortages of the time and the adult film business that Misty was involved in, done as a hybrid of a dark buddy-cop comedy, a noir crime thriller and a serious drama, the latter involving Holland’s past and his bond with Holly, specifically how she’s rapidly growing up and wanting to be involved in helping her father with the case, even given the seedy and dangerous nature of it all.

Since I’m obviously going to be tearing into this movie pretty extensively, let me get its two positives out of the way quickly.   First, I do think Russell Crowe is giving a good and dedicated performance here as Jackson, playing the straight man of this duo in a way that didn’t feel as pushy and annoying as his co-star comes off as (more on him and the other cast members later) and he gives me the sense that he could have feasibly worked comedically in a better movie with a better screenplay.   The other positive is its sense of time and place, as it has a pretty transporting and almost obsessive attention to detail regarding the feeling and atmosphere of 1977, from the costume designs, to the cars, to the visual filters.  That being said, it’s still not obsessive enough, given that it has a couple of pretty clear mistakes that, when combined with everything else this movie does wrong (which is literally everything else) were strong enough to break me out, particularly regarding the licensed music.  There’s a scene at a party with Earth Wind & Fire present, apparently, and they’re playing September while later, at the same party, we hear Kool & The Gang's Get Down On It.  I love both those songs, but remember, the movie’s set in 1977, a year before September existed and four years before Get Down On It came out and, considering how much Shane Black clearly loves this time period and is obviously trying to avoid the usual time period anachronisms everywhere else, an obvious oversight like that is kind of inexcusable.  Then again, it’s part of a movie that, unless you’re a Shane Black acolyte who’s willing to give him a pass for everything and willing to abandon your sense of morality for 2 hours, is already totally inexcusable.  

As you can probably tell from the plot summary, there’s some pretty seamy subject matter in this film and some clearly boundary-pushing elements of violence and sexuality that makes the execution of it and attitude towards it all the more vital to the film’s success, especially when you’re asking your audience to find any part of it funny or relatable.  If The Nice Guys was going to work at all, it would need to show a sense of intelligence, complexity and a lack of vanity about itself to justify the material it’s trafficking in, but not for one second does this movie show any interest in paying those dues, which results in everything it does coming off as stomach-churning, appalling and in no way entertaining.  This is a downright hateful movie, with a level of brutality and sleaziness that it likes to think is a tribute to the hardboiled and cynical aura of the time, but to me, it feels like it’s playing the cynical Anchorman game of “it’s a 70s-period piece, so it’s instantly acceptable, funny and inoculated against any possible modern social criticism.”  Oh yeah? Even in the context of the time this film is set, I still say it really crosses the line with its quite ugly and unmotivated streaks of homophobia, racism, misogyny and ableism that the movie has no attitude about and is in no way insightful, intriguing vis-à-vis the story or funny regarding.  Even more offensive to me is the exploitative way it uses Holly, in that it wants her to be this strong young female character who’s a willing participant to the depravity Jackson and her father are involved with in the case, while she’s also cynically used as a child-in-danger prop threatened with violence/death when the movie needs it and a fake semblance of morality to an otherwise immoral film.  

Regarding the former idea of Holly thrusting herself into the case, yeah, we get scenes where Holland tells her that she’s too young to handle it, gets mad when she stows away with him in the trunk of his car and has her asking basic questions that help out the search for Amelia, but they all feel like quick screenplay additions to justify the galling and unfunny scenes with her involved, the most disgusting being the one at the porn film premiere party, where Holly’s taken into the back room, shown the blue film, is told by its stars of specific sexual practices in graphic detail and is told she may have potential as a porn star.  Remember, Holly’s 11 or so years-old, a detail that made me feel even more unclean by the scene, which is played as funny and light, because child exploitation is funny and light in this film’s eyes.  As far as Holly being threatened by the bad guys, it’s nothing but a lazy third-act conflict that requires Holland to be more careful about wantonly killing the bad guys (and for that matter, a lot of innocent bystanders; I haven’t seen a buddy film like this as badly disdainful of innocent lives since Bad Boys 2) and regarding Holly being this pure and touching sense of good in the film’s warped world, it’s only shows just how tonally out of control the film is, as well as being clear, insincere and offensive proof that this movie really wants to have its cake and eat it, too.  Oh, we see Jackson brutally killing a bunch of people throughout most of the movie, but that’s OK, because when Holly sees him about to do it on two occasions and is able to succeed in convincing Jackson to spare their lives, that automatically makes Jackson good and absolved of everything else bad that he’s done while Holly hasn’t been watching him (not to mention that we never see him even contemplating mercy on the people he kills after Holly asks him the first time not to kill people).  Oh, Holland is an inattentive father to Holly and a drunk that she is forced to clean up for at her young age, but that’s OK, because she’s “growing up” and they’re both in pain from her mother’s death, despite Holland seemingly always being an emotional basket-case and despite that angle just briefly explored and, even then, it’s not convincing or believable for a second.  

If those last two situations didn’t give you an idea, I don’t like or care about any of the characters here, and, though I said I was fine with Russell Crowe’s performance, none of the acting here, including from him, changes that or adds extra depth or chemistry to them.  Ryan Gosling is clearly supposed to be the more neurotic and comedic of the guys as Holland, but I found his performance here to be quite awful, as he’s pathetically mannered and mugging throughout the entire thing without ever taking it down a notch to make us believe him as such a person (also, to take it back to the morality issue of this movie once more, Gosling in real-life went out and argued about how big an issue hatred of women is nowadays, a lecture that he has absolutely no right to be making considering that he starred in this vile and misogynistic movie with no moral objections).  As far as the rest of the cast is concerned, Angourie Rice is just OK as the young Holly, and the supporting cast, including people like Margaret Qualley, Beau Knapp, Keith David, Lois Smith and Kim Basinger, add little to their ancillary roles and don’t stand out as much as I think they’re intended to. Also, the film is all over the place regarding its labyrinthine story which, when we finally do get a grasp of it all in the third act, doesn’t give us that “aha!” moment and sense of satisfaction of everything coming together regarding the plot and its connection to the characters, the action scenes are not exciting or well-shot (maybe they shouldn’t have had most of them set in the dark of night or, at the very least, have a better cinematographer to capture those night scenes), the pacing is awful and makes the almost 2 hour length feel twice as long and not only is this movie not at all funny, but its jokes are repetitive to the extreme, as they belong to the same obvious and unfunny "oh, here's a joke at a tonally inappropriate time to cut the tension" category every time.  Again, I can see some being able to enjoy this, despite all I said about it, but I’m sorry, it made me completely miserable and violated.  But apparently, I may not be alone since, though this was quite liked by critics, it was a flop with audiences at the box office, which kind of validates my excoriation of it and signals that maybe American audiences actually do have a semblance of taste, even for films like this.

 3. Me Before You

I kind of hinted at this with The Nice Guys, but I’ll make it clearer now; 2016 was the year that Hollywood openly admitted their complete and utter hatred of people with disabilities. Except for Finding Dory, every other movie I saw this year that had characters that were either explicitly shown as having one kind of disability or another or were heavily suggested as having one had said characters ridiculed and shamed without mercy. Warner Bros. is the studio that was the worst offender of this trend this year and, in the contest of “what’s our most ableist movie?,” with their strong contenders like The Nice Guys and The Accountant, Me Before You barely won that dubious distinction.  This is based on a young adult novel by Jojo Moyes that was controversial when it came out because it was construed that this story about the relationship between the quadriplegic son of a rich British castle owning couple and his assistant caregiver was arguing that the former, because of his plan to commit suicide based on the depression of him losing his ability to walk and function, was better off dead.  Sadly, the film, which Moyes herself adapted the screenplay, doesn’t make that charge any less valid, as it shows that, despite the defense that both the film and book are poignant tragedies about the mindset of someone in a situation like that and the harsh reminder to those trying to talk him out of it that you can’t always change people, the movie is psychologically, emotionally and disgustingly simplistic, ignorant and dishonest in its attempt to explore his disability and his relationship with the caretaker, not to mention that the caretaker is one of the most loathsome female lead characters in any teenage melodrama like this.  In fact, I’ll go on the record now and say that this is more two-faced, pandering, shameless and rage-inducing than every Nicholas Sparks film adaptation I’ve seen, and I am not joking (in fact, my favorite one, Dear John, also explored a character with a disability with more honesty and respect).

The film stars Emilia Clark from Game Of Thrones in a role that makes me glad I still haven’t started watching that much talked about TV show. She plays Lou Clark, a young woman living in the economically stressed small-town of Pembrokeshire in Wales who was just fired from her job working at the local coffee shop because they’re going out of business.  Out of a job and with little education, Lou looks for another job to help keep the unemployed family she lives at home with alfloat, including a mother, father, sister and said sister’s out of wedlock child, so she goes to an interview for the caretaker of Will Traynor (Sam Claflin), a now bitter and cutting man who became a quadriplegic after getting hit by a motorcycle and, along with losing his ability to walk and participate in the extreme sports that he used to, also lost his fiancé, who has since found someone else and is now planning to marry them.  Will’s parents, Camilla (Janet McTeer) and Stephen (Charles Dance), are the richest people in town as the owners of the Pembroke Castle and, after they meet with Lou, despite her being easily flustered and ripping her stockings (because Lou is clumsy and awkward in bold, italics and underlining, like female love interests in all bad romance movies are), they give her the job in the hopes that she can assist and cheer up their son.  However, Lou is only Will’s caretaker by day because, at night, his nurse, Nathan (Stephen Peacocke) takes over and, because he has actual medical experience, he knows how to handle Will.  Lou, on the other hand, is in over her head, which isn’t helped by the prickly digs that Will makes towards her, yet after enough time, she starts to break through and the two begin to like each other.  However, that apparently doesn’t mean much, because Will is still planning to commit assisted suicide, so Lou tries, on the pleas of his parents, to convince him that his life is still worth living, while meanwhile, her feelings for Will grow into love, as does Will’s feelings for Lou, to an extent.

Now, based on that description, you might be thinking, “well, the movie is about the relationship between Lou and Will and they are explicitly dealing with the idea that Will wants to die and that Lou is trying to change his mind, so how can you say that the movie is arguing that Will is better off dead?”  Simple; because that sentence is just what the film is about and not how it’s about it. Yes, the movie does look at the dichotomy of Will’s depressed state of mind and Lou trying to reverse it, but it refuses to level with us about his perhaps changing state of mind after meeting her. All we see of Will are the usual treacly disability movie clichés with him being depressed, lashing out initially for reasons that are not clear until later and then having his heart warmed up by the woman who “just won’t give up on him, damn it,” but it all feels so empty and devoid of passion and authenticity.  That latter point also extends to why he wants to kill himself, because although the movie does show us his feelings of being useless and wanting to give up, it’s all surface with no interest in probing deeper into his psyche. We learn that the drivers of his desire to die are because his fiancé left him and because he can’t be independent anymore, but the way the movie presents both is shallow and perfunctory at best and, at worst, insulting, especially because the film seems to take sadistic joy in seeing him suffer under the false pretenses of elaborating on those things (while, again, underscoring the idea that the film is also arguing for his “sweet release”).  

For example, Will’s fiancé is remarrying, which leads to a really cruel scene where she comes back to visit Will when Lou is there and explicitly tells him “I’m going to marry this guy; I hope there’s no hard feelings.”  I got really angry watching this, which, I guess, is supposed to be the point, but I was more mad because of how obviously manufactured and tone-deaf the whole scene was and how the fiancé character only exists to be a self-awareness-lacking prop to further his pain, instead of actually looking at how such a difficult and painful situation like that would actually play out with the characters in the real world that this movie claims to exist in (case in point; despite that, Will and Lou accept her wedding invitation anyway and the emotions behind it are only given lip service and even then, not very much).  Same goes with him having to sit in a chair all day and have other people help him, which I know is the reality for people with disabilities like that, but I’ve seen many movies before that depict that life honestly and with the bitterness, depression and, sometimes, cutting and wry mordant humor sometimes present in it, such as the great Rory O’Shea Was Here from 2005.  By comparison, this feels totally phony and mean-spirited by how much it revels in that suffering, especially when throws cheap, unmotivated and clearly insult-intended My Left Foot jokes at Will, ultimately revealing this as one of those “we care about people with disabilities, but not really" films that’s more interested in getting a cheap emotional reaction out of us at the end and not at all about the people it claims compassion for.  

As such, I don’t care about what’s going to happen to Will, which is bad enough, but even worse, I absolutely hate Lou here.  Again, it’s because the movie basically makes her into an empty cypher to deliver the pathos with, but she’s worse, because of how much of an emotionally immature, selfish and irresponsible brat she is.  First off, she should not be taking care of Will because of her lack of experience, which we clearly see when she makes multiple mistakes that put his health in jeopardy, which the movie brushes off as letting Will “live a little” and being able to be an adult again (yeah, not when your immune system is compromised so that going outside in the snow makes it easier to contract pneumonia and potentially die from it, it’s not). Second, even though she’s taken the job to help her family’s financial struggles, that subplot never ends up amounting to anything for them and only benefits her by the relationship she gets with Will, not to mention that we see her in tons of overly colorful and expensive dresses and outfits that said money problems should not allow her to have.  Third, when she finds out that Will wants to die and her attempts to try to convince him otherwise seem to not be working, she lashes out against him by pretty much accusing him of being selfish, irresponsible and immature which, coming from Lou, is quite rich, considering those words describe her to a tee. And finally, Emilia Clark’s awful performance does not make me feel for her whatsoever and actually, with her overacting outbursts, cringe-inducing forced clumsiness and horribly fake/unnatural smile, I actively hated her, to the point where, when Will sarcastically calls her BS attitude, idiocy and social faux-pas about his disability out early in the movie, I was completely on his side, which I don’t think was intended.  

Actually, for that reason, I kind of liked Sam Claflin as Will and wished he had a better movie to play a character like this, but he also contributes to what is unintentionally, the best part of the movie for me. You see, Will loves foreign films, which Lou scoffs at, so he demands that she watch a foreign film with him (he picks 2010’s Of Gods And Men), resulting in her adoring it.  Later, Lou goes out to the movies with her boyfriend (sorry, I forgot to mention that she has one before Will, who’s an inattentive and selfish wannabe runner, but he’s not interesting or believable, either, so yeah) and she suggests a foreign film over the new Will Ferrell comedy, but to no avail. Now, here’s the kicker; the film she wants to see is 1999’s All About My Mother, directed by Pedro Almodovar. That doesn’t seem like a big deal, but if you know Almodovar, you also know that the movie he made after that one was 2002’s Talk To Her, which just so happens to be a film (and a really good and wonderfully avant-garde one) about two paralyzed women that are taken care of by their doting caregivers and, by that association game, it only further reminded me of how this film’s look at disability and the romantic bonds that come from it are totally fake and shameless.  I bet the makers of this movie are now looking back and wishing they didn’t make that connection, though, to be fair, they’re also probably thanking their lucky stars that, of all of Almodovar’s films they could have chosen to name drop, they didn’t pick that one to make a direct link.  

Adding insult to injury, the pacing is unbearably slow, the romance and drama are completely empty, Clark and Claflin have little chemistry together, the music choices are embarrassingly literal, the supporting performances and the side characters they play add little and not even the Wales setting adds any atmosphere or sense of time and place to compliment the already failed narrative elements of the film. That, and it offended and angered me so much with its hypocritical attitude and offensive trifling attitude about its subject material which, as you’ll also see more evidence of later on in this worst of list, it disgustingly and despicably seemed to be open season on in the movies in 2016.

 4. Batman V Superman: Dawn Of Justice

Yeah, I know this film is on pretty much EVERY 10 Worst of 2016 list out there, but Batman V Superman: Dawn Of Justice is just so deserving of it that I have to jump in with my own take on why it really is that atrocious.  As you likely know, 2016 was the year that DC Comics, in conjunction with Warner Bros., took their boldest steps to follow in the cinematic footsteps of Marvel Comics and their Marvel Studios film division, with the attempt at having big-budget blockbusters of famous DC Comics characters and books that would please the legions of comic fans, please casual moviegoers and create a connected cinematic universe for DC, much like Marvel has.  To say that DC’s attempt failed is the understatement of the year, that is, unless you think them having a reputation of putting out a group of bloated, endless, idiotic, hypocritical, hateful and cynically sequel-baiting pieces of garbage that despise half the human race constitutes success.  And to think, Batman V Superman was just the first such vile movie we got this year, along with, apparently, Batman: The Killing Joke and certainly… well, the next film on this list.

Anyway, the setup of this movie, to be fair, sounds interesting on paper and, of course, the idea of having the two biggest DC Comics stars in the same film would make you think/hope it’d be great.  The story takes place a year and a half after the last Superman movie, Man Of Steel, which, if you recall, ended with massive destruction coming upon Metropolis and seemingly untold numbers of innocent people getting injured or dying inadvertently at the hands of Superman during his battle with General Zod.  One of those victims is Wallace Keefe (Scoot McNairy), a worker at Wayne Enterprises whose legs were crushed during the fracas by falling metal girders (because we just have to get a 9/11 parallel into these Superman-related films somehow) and who is taken care of by Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck), the latter of whom sees Superman flying in the sky and blames him for the destruction.  From there, with the assistance of his butler, Alfred (Jeremy Irons), Bruce plans to exact revenge on Superman using his various detective skills, gadgets, his persona as Batman and some additional information provided by Diana Prince (forced meme actress Gal Gadot), AKA the subject of the next big DC movie coming out (of which this film should not make you confident of that one’s quality, even with Monster director Patty Jenkins making it).  Meanwhile, Clark Kent (Henry Cavill) has been feeling the weight of being the now societally controversial Superman, as well as the current strains in his relationship with fellow Daily Planet reporter, Lois Lane (Amy Adams), but also finds out about Wayne’s plan to put a stop to Superman, resulting in Clark writing articles intended to expose and smear Batman as a hypocritical vigilante because, yeah, working at a newspaper clearly means that you get to write about what you want after your boss tells you “you’re on sports today” (which was even more noticeable when this movie first came out, as it was less than a month after Spotlight, a really smart movie about the newspaper business, won the Oscar for Best Picture). As Batman/Bruce Wayne and Superman/Clark Kent are in the middle of their heated debate, if you will, about what makes a man a vigilante and/or a self-designated protector, Lex Luthor (Jesse Eisenberg) is scheming to use General Zod’s dead body and the Kryptonian cove that holds it to destroy Superman, which he then sets into motion by kidnapping Clark’s mother, Martha (Diane Lane) and offering to release her if Superman kills Batman, the latter of whom recently stole Kryptonite to weaponize for use against Superman.  And thus, we get the epic battle of Batman versus Superman that should be a dream come true to viewers, but in reality, ends up being more of a nightmare.

As I said, there is an ambitious attempt at social commentary about the nature of superheroes in this comic book movie and it’s not just an endless action extravaganza. Then again, so was my best film of 2008, The Dark Knight (a far better film also based on a DC property), not to mention that you have to wonder if this film’s director, Zack Snyder, the misogynist hack who also directed Man Of Steel, and writers Chris Terrio and David S. Goyer (the later of whom also wrote Man Of Steel) only made the story of this one the way it is as an apology for what that 2013 film did with its third act. There was a lot of destruction and collateral damage going on at the end of Man Of Steel, which was both mind-numbing and, to a lot of people, out of keeping with Superman, given the fact that he didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that he was unintentionally killing innocent people as he fought Zod.  That led to justified charges that Synder was showing a complete disregard for innocent lives and, given that, as well as Synder’s insane defense of it by arguing Star Wars Episode 7: The Force Awakens was more hateful because more innocents died with the planet destruction in that movie (even though that one was actually acknowledging those deaths and how terrible they were, unlike Man Of Steel), it seems as if the plot of Batman V Superman is his direct cinematic answer to that criticism.  Fair enough, but Synder totally destroys the potential of the premise (and the effectiveness of his personal argument) by still lovingly reveling in the death, destruction and suffering that the characters cause (unintentionally or not) and, as far as the moral quandaries at the center of it all, all we get is a bunch of brief, didactic and surface speeches about how right or wrong Batman and Superman think each specific dilemma is, but without any attempt to dive into the potentially thought-provoking guts of it (and considering Goyer also wrote The Dark Knight, which actually did just that, the lack of it here is totally inexcusable).

As far as the narrative explorations of Batman and Superman’s characters are concerned, the film does a pretty bad job of balancing between the two characters and, of what we do get of the two, it feels empty, emotionally inert and like rehashes of some of the more famous/infamous details related to the characters in the comics and other movies.  In Batman’s case, I really felt that his reasons for wanting to stop Superman so badly, aside from seeing one of his co-workers get paralyzed, were really murky, as was his backstory.  I get the idea that Batman/Bruce Wayne is a loner who tries to hide his pain, but the film mostly focuses on his attempts at revenge on Superman, with a few embarrassingly dumb dream sequences thrown in (come on, Batman shooting at Superman’s soldiers in a desert with a gun?!) and, despite the valiant effort of Ben Affleck in the role, he’s not able to make us feel for Wayne/Batman on his own and without the movie helping him.  Actually, the movie is hurting Affleck’s role, because of the issues with his character, as well as that computerized Batman voice of his that was enough to make me nostalgic for the Sean Connery-inspired voice of Bane from The Dark Knight Rises, all of which might explain why Affleck is now directing himself in his own Batman film (which will hopefully be better). The scenes with Superman don’t fare much better, particularly because Henry Cavill is empty and shows none of the lighter charm in the role that even the also dramatically minded Man Of Steel allowed him to flaunt, his struggles are unbelievable and uninteresting, he has no chemistry with Lois Lane (despite the presence of their sex scene in a bathtub, which is easily the most head-shaking and uncomfortable sex scene in a superhero movie since Watchmen which, ironically, Snyder also made) and the idea of society torn as to whether Superman is a hero or a menace doesn’t have the presence and weight that it should.  When the two are brought together, their battle and the reasons for it are basically the comic book equivalent of Idiot Plot syndrome (you know, the idea that it’s based on a simple misunderstanding that one simple discussion between the characters would solve) and the resolution to it is even worse, and clearly, I’m not alone in thinking that, given how the “maternal” angle of it has since deservedly become the biggest laughingstock within DC, comic and online culture.

Regarding the supporting characters, they’re generally too insignificant to mean much, even with heavy-hitting actors like Jeremy Irons, Diane Lane and Lawrence Fishburne in their just OK roles, and of the important ones, Lex Luthor and Lois Lane, they don’t have the intended impact on the film.  Luthor isn’t particularly interesting as a villain, given his stupid plot and lack of gravitas and it’s likely quite inaccurate to the character in the comic books.  Then again, even the great Kevin Spacey couldn’t make this character work in Superman Returns a decade ago and, despite that, I didn’t mind Jesse Eisenberg in the role, if only because at least it gives this overly oppressive and dark movie a brief shot of levity via Eisenberg’s admittingly out of place, but still comparatively appealing fast-talking psychotic madness.  Regarding Lois Lane, unlike Man Of Steel, she’s back to being the damsel in distress that the character is often stereotyped as being (even with Amy Adams playing her), but because this is a Zack Snyder film, the attitude about her, and for that matter, every other woman character, goes beyond just the usual insulting female tropes and into the far worse and more offensive realm of rank misogynistic hatred.

Every time I think Snyder is going to stop his cinematic War On Women, he just keeps doubling down with his next picture and, with the exception of his “pedophile’s dream movie,” Sucker Punch, this is his worst film on that front.  Lois and every female character in this movie are endlessly sexualized and endure or are threatened with violence, suffering and death in scenes that are repulsively taking joy in their pain (the scenes with Mrs. Kent crying as she’s threatened with being burned alive with a flamethrower and the opening that lovingly relishes in the brutal murder of Bruce’s mother as those pearls of hers and her body fall to the ground in slow-motion are particularly vile).  That’s offensive enough as it is, but I was even more enraged by the film’s cynical attempt to justify it all by pretending that it actually cares about its women and that it believes that they’re strong individuals.  In reality, it doesn’t care in the slightest, with the two clearest examples of this being Lois Lane and, despite what many are arguing, Diana Prince and her alter-ego.  Both characters are initially shown to be proactive in their goals, with Lois putting all the pieces of Luthor’s scheme together herself and then, trying to push back against Luthor and the senators tied to him, while Diana gets most of the information that Bruce ends up using by herself via her cunning and wiles. So, OK, they’re girls doing it for themselves, which is nice, but the third act reveals that they really can’t do it themselves and punishes them for their attempts.  Lois ultimately is punished for her proactivity by becoming the weak and useless damsel who needs to rely on Superman to be saved (even for things that she doesn’t need his superpowers for), while Diana’s so-called “wonderfully feministic contribution” is just barely assisting the two male leads who, without giving too much away, end up finishing the job she helped to start and taking all the credit.

On top of that, the movie is horribly directed by Synder, the pacing is unbelievably slow, making its over 2 ½ hour running time feel torturous (especially with all those false endings and pathetic attempts to set up sequels and the other characters’ movies, with one scene doing the latter by literally stopping the movie) and even the action scenes aren’t any good, thanks to their overly loud audio, choppy editing, ugly/dark look and incomprehensible nature.  Thankfully, even though this film became a big box office hit, it ended up not mattering because DC Comics fans are actually willing and able to be objective when their properties are turned into horrible movies (that’s something that the Marvel fans might want to start doing), so even they knew this was a massive disaster worthy of heavy derision which, along with critics and other burned moviegoers like me, they applied to this film full force to give it the lousy reputation that it deserves.  Too bad that DC didn’t seem to care that much about our dissatisfaction, as they so aptly proved with their so-called “comeback” movie that is my next worst of the year selection…

 5. Suicide Squad

Hey, lookee here; DC Comics is back to steal our money and insult our intelligence, taste and will to be entertained with yet another horrible 2016 comic book movie. Seriously, at this point, you have to wonder if DC is trying to destroy their fan-base, while also alienating outsiders and, of course, women (since rank and rampant misogyny seems to be the MO of the DC Comics film adaptations).  To be fair, I’m pretty sure that DC and Warner Bros. (wow, almost half of my worst of list now consists of junk from that studio) were trying to pivot from the disastrous reaction to Batman V. Superman with Suicide Squad, given that this one underwent a couple of reshoots, some minor rewrites and a rating change (from its originally promised R to PG-13, all the better for cynically making more money) before it released this past August. Some people I’ve talked to think this is a case of cynical studio meddling, which it clearly is, but they also think director David Ayer got screwed over here, which is wrong, given his recent insistence that, even after all the edits, the film’s final cut is all his, not to mention that this hypocritical, misogynistic, incomprehensible, clichéd, dull, badly made and thoroughly unpleasant junk also shares the same negative attributes of Ayer’s past failures that didn’t have studio involvement.  Either way, there’s a lot of blame to place for this one and it’s further evidence of how creatively and morally adrift DC is in the movies nowadays and how they need to clean up their cinematic act and fast.

The film takes place after the ending of Batman V Superman, which went early 1990s on Superman, if you know what I mean, resulting in a secret government agency lead by Amanda Walker (Viola Davis, who’s likely glad that she has Fences out right now to make people forget she was slumming it in this), looking for a new method for keeping the US and the world safe from villains.  Apparently, getting Batman involved isn’t something she’s open to (and yes, Ben Affleck does return here in that role), so she decides to recruit a group of locked-up supervillains, many of whom Batman has fought, and bring them together to fight against evil forces.  You may be wondering why Walker thinks it’s a good idea to trust a group of villains who could feasibly band together, escape and cause even more havoc, but she has a backup plan; she puts them all under the watchful eye of hardened commander Colonel Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman) and she has implanted a nano-bomb in each of them, which Flag is ordered to detonate should any of them go rogue. Speaking of those villains, they consist of Deadshot (Will Smith), a hitman with a proficiency with guns and a young daughter he wants to support, despite his murderous tendencies, El Diablo (Jay Hernandez), a now seemingly pacifistic former LA gangbanger with pyrokinetic powers and a troubled past, Captain Boomerang (Jai Courtney), a thieving scumbag who, surprise surprise, attacks with a boomerang, Killer Croc (Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje) a genetically mutated man with bodily features and attributes much like a crocodile, Slipknot (Adam Beach), a highly specialized assassin with rappelling skills and Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie), the psychotic, highly sexual and emotionally battered former psychiatrist to The Joker, the latter of whom is also in this film in a much hyped, but completely inconsequential, microscopic and nothing role (he’s played by Oscar winner Jared Leto).  The plot shows the growing bond, if you want to call it that, between the supervillains, as well as how one of the intended recruits is possessed by the Enchantress (Cara Delevingne), who is seeking revenge on the world for imprisoning her and her brother’s souls in ancient artifacts years ago, resulting in the supervillains having to band together to stop her and save both Midway City and the world.  During it all, the film also wants to have an acerbic and dark comedic edge mixed in with the heavy action and drama, as well as a penchant for using famous licensed tunes, ala Guardians Of The Galaxy.

I have to admit that I didn’t like Guardians Of The Galaxy when it came out in 2014 (though I’d probably have been kinder to it if I knew even worse all-star cavalcade comic book movies like this would be following it), but at least that movie had a sense of chemistry between the team (despite some serious credibility issues I had with their overall relationship).  Here, we get no concept of the bond that these “heroes” share, since they all seem out to serve their own interests and also, because they don’t have very good chemistry to make their contrasting personalities and goals effectively play off of each other.  We see that definitively in the scene when they basically stop the plot of the movie and go have drinks at a bar, but that’s the only attempt at comradery that we get, and even then, it’s nothing but the parading of a bunch of hoary old clichés and them emphasizing how humorously off-beat they think they are with the old “I’m not really as bad as society says I am” trope. At best, this, as well as all the other attempts to sell us on the idea of this team coming together on an emotional and/or comedic level, is pedestrian and doesn’t give us a rooting interest in the characters, but at worst, I’m not buying it for second and they induce feelings of anger and disdain over what they and film want us to instantly accept.  The key examples of this is are the stabs at familial pathos with Deadshot’s daughter and El Diablo’s backstory about his family; the former thread is cloying and cheap, the latter is about something so horrible in his past that there’s no way that most people in the audience will believe he’s moral and let that go so quickly and, in both cases, they’re just tired and offensive plot devices to try and cynically soften these characters, as opposed to honestly developing them so we believe that, even in their seemingly seedy and/or nigh-irredeemable natures, that they have the capability of being good or, at the very least, are interesting enough to follow to the end (ala a Terry Zwigoff film like Bad Santa or Ghost World, both of which had similar outcast leads that were well-developed and darkly funny).

Before we get the team together, though, we get their solo introductions, which comprise a majority of the film’s first 40 minutes, give or take, but those don’t do a much better job of making us care about the characters, as they’re flatly expository, aggravatingly self-conscious, tonally schizophrenic, and, for some characters, incomprehensible.  For instance, I had no idea what to make of or feel about Killer Croc, who’s an interesting villain based on my knowledge of him from the Batman enterprise, but the film seems to rush through his story (as well as some others, like Slipknot) because it wants to focus on the characters played by the biggest stars here, namely, Smith’s Deadshot and Robbie’s Harley Quinn, most of which is all about flaunting their strange behavior, the muted neon color look of the film and, of course, those damn licensed songs that are so obvious, lazy and on-the-nose that their presence made me angry (Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Fortunate Son, The Rolling Stone’s Sympathy For The Devil, Lesley Gore’s You Don’t Own Me and The Animals’ House Of The Rising Sun?! REALLY?!).  As far as the film’s look at Quinn, this is the first depiction of the character in a movie and my God, does it want to have it both ways tonally speaking, by trying to look at her twisted mental state as appealingly humorous and erotic, while also being dark, disturbing and serious.  If the movie played fair with that, like the Batman: The Animated Series that introduced Quinn did, then no problem, but there’s something uniquely ugly about the portrayal here, as the movie sexualizes and glamorizes her mental state, as well as her abusive relationship with The Joker, while tossing in some token heavy moments to try and hide that this movie is grotesquely trivializing her mental illness and psychological suffering by making it look “fun,” “sexy,” “funny” and “empowering,” which it isn’t, especially how this film treats it.

Then again, that’s in keeping with the hacky attitude of the whole movie which, despite the studio interaction, is all on co-writer/director David Ayer, because he falls down here in the same ways he did on the so-called “pure” pictures he made.  His End Of Watch refused to pick a style and go with it, while his Fury (a film that, amazingly, is even worse and more despicable than this) oozed with leering sexuality and suffocating for its own sake claustrophobia, and this one does all three, as it uneasily straddles the line between dark comedy and heavy drama/action, but without doing any of it well, it hates women, as I emphasized with Quinn as the most obvious example, and the film gives off a really oppressive aura that doesn’t fit the movie and makes it dull and extremely depressing to watch.  In addition, the action scenes are badly lit, choppy, quickly cut, not exciting and incomprehensible (could it be because of the cut to a PG-13?), the CG is awful, the pacing is slow, the writing is poor, the story is stupid, Ayer’s direction is distractingly chaotic, and the performances are empty and wasted, either because they’re bland, as is the case with Jai Courtney, Jay Hernandez, Joel Kinnaman and the usually magnetic Will Smith, or they’re trying too hard, as is the case with Cara Delevingne’s painfully over-the-top vampy act as the Enchantress, Margot Robbie’s pushiness as Quinn and, of course, the much ballyhooed role of The Joker by Jared Leto who, though not trying to copy Heath Ledger’s legendary turn as the character in The Dark Knight, is one-note, unpleasant and a real turn-off (but at least he’s only in the film for under 10 minutes, so at least the pain of his presence here won’t hurt you for too long).  

Look, I know DC wants to try and be a cinematic fanboy/fangirl powerhouse like Marvel is, but soul-draining and empty garbage like Suicide Squad is not doing them or the fans any favors, nor is it making outsiders like me willing to jump on board. Also, this was supposed to be the one that would get them back on track after Batman V Superman, but it just ended up driving them into the ditch even further, suggesting that maybe they should either go back to the drawing board again, or perhaps quit while they’re ahead. Some are arguing that Wonder Woman next year will save the DC movies and maybe it will, but on the back of the two we got this year (or three, if you count The Killing Joke), if your expectations for that one now are anything but subterranean, well, I’m sorry, that’s your problem.

 6. The Neon Demon

Man, what happened to Nicholas Winding Refn?  He seemed like a pretty interesting and gutsy avant-garde filmmaker with the mixed-bag, but interesting enough (and very well-acted by Tom Hardy) 2009 film, Bronson and especially his 2011 masterpiece, Drive (which I had on my 10 best list that year), but something happened after that latter 5-year-old film of his and he’s clearly let success and the critical arguments of his directorial grandeur go to his head with his last couple of films.  In 2013, he made Only God Forgives, a particularly empty and vile piece of trash that was my clear pick for the worst movie of that year, and here he is once again with The Neon Demon, a film that’s, at the very least, a slight improvement over that one, as you can at least get some understanding of what he’s trying to do with this one.  Then again, that’s little consolation in my eyes, as it’s still an unbelievably thin, pushy, pretentious and insufferable waste of time and talent that, like any bad art-house film, uses its sanctimonious auteurist form to pretend that Refn’s the best filmmaker ever and that he’s crafted some great, profound, disturbing and shocking look at its themes and subjects, when it’s just proof that he may not be as good a filmmaker as he thinks he is and has the most embarrassingly literal interpretation of old-hat concepts regarding show business, modeling and the female sexuality often tied into both.

The film is centered around Jesse (Elle Fanning), a 16-year-old blond girl from a small town who’s come to LA looking to become a model.  She’s just had her first photoshoot with Dean (Karl Glusman), an aspiring photographer she met online who offered to take shots of her to shop around town and, after the shoot, she meets Ruby (Jena Malone), a makeup artist who, in between her part-time work as an assistant at the morgue, has connections in the fashion industry and thinks Jesse has potential.  Ruby introduces Jesse to two models that Ruby often does makeup work for; Sarah (Abbey Lee) and Gigi (Bella Heathcote).  Both Sarah and Gigi emphasize the idea of sexuality and/or plastic surgery as the most effective way to get ahead in the LA modeling world, while seeming a bit dismissive of the more reserved aura and appearance of Jesse.  This, as well as encouragement from her wavering between friend and boyfriend Dean, inspires Jesse to go for an interview at Roberta Hoffman’s (Christina Hendricks) renowned modeling agency, who are looking for new girls to sign. Despite Jesse being underage, Roberta allows her to fudge her age and the parental consent form, allowing Jesse to be signed, with the thought by Roberta that her looks and style will make her a star.  As you’d likely expect, the shoots Jesse is tasked with doing are highly sexualized, especially with Hoffman’s top photographer Jack (Desmond Harrington) being so taken by Jesse that he demands closed set nude shoots for her to do.  This helps Jesse become a quickly rising talent in the industry, to the point where many of the other big fashion icons are instantly smitten with Jesse and want a piece of her, but this creates tensions with Sarah and Gigi, who aren’t used to being rejected and losing contract work, as well as with Dean, who knows Jesse’s underage, but has still developed feelings for her and fears she’s drifting away from, and with Ruby, who also is starting to view herself as a protector of Jesse’s and, perhaps, something more. Meanwhile, we get a group of bizarre and twisted developments regarding Hank (Keanu Reeves), the violent and pedophilic owner of the Pasadena motel that Jesse is staying at, as well as attempts by Sarah and Gigi at revenge against Jesse.

Director Refn (who uses his initials NWR throughout the opening and closing credits, I guess to tell how deep and important a director he thinks he is, though he really hasn’t been showing it recently) has stated that this movie was intended to be a tribute, of sorts, to Russ Meyer’s 1970 film, Beyond The Valley Of The Dolls.  To say it, in my eyes, misses the point of Meyer’s cult classic goes without saying, but I can at least see what Refn was trying to do here, which is to paint a surrealistic, supernatural and grotesque metaphor about our concept of beauty, fashion, celebrity and the industries associated with all three ideas.  Specifically, through Jesse, it’s challenging the idea of female beauty/sexuality, the life of models (particularly those who, like, her, are of the barely legal and Lolita small-town runaway varieties), the vapidity and looks-obsessed industry and, of course, her modeling peers in Gigi and Sarah who will do anything to be the best and stay relevant, while also having its elements of jazzing those themes up with Refn’s signature mind-tripping scenes tied to Jesse and the other characters.  Too bad for Refn that he’s two years too late with this film, since in 2014, Jonathan Glazer made Under The Skin (my 8th best film that year), a similar mind-trip that explored many of the same concepts and perceptions of female beauty and eroticism as this, but was infinitely better and more engrossing.  In addition, Under The Skin also had interesting, consistent and well-developed characters, better thought-out and more intriguing messages and avant-garde detours that worked as inherently watchable and interesting cinema that tied to the narrative without feeling aggressively pushy, unpleasant or boring.

The Neon Demon has none of those things, starting with its concepts about Jesse and the fashion world it’s depicting.  In a sense, my typing the next passage you’ll read is kind of a spoiler of the movie, (which I almost believe was done on purpose to shield the film from this criticism), but it needs to be said; the movie’s look at it topics is ultimately nothing more than forming a literal interpretation of the concept of the high-stakes world of celebrity, fashion and beauty eating you alive.  I won’t go too far into exactly how the film does that (because it does it in many ways that I won’t reveal), but it’s a massively lazy, arch, pathetic and ugly cop-out that undoes Refn’s argument of giving us this brave, unique and thought-provoking twist on these familiar themes and archetypes. Some may think “oh, this is just a great twist concept,” but it can’t even do that right, because the movie telegraphs that concept so obviously by telling us the same idea, so that I could easily predict it going in that direction and, when it got there, it was just ugly and disgusting shock value that lacks any hint of intelligent or interesting commentary or filmmaking.  Also, by that point, I had long stopped caring about the movie or any of the characters in it, since we don’t get to know enough about the characters to be invested or make the film’s points resonate, especially regarding Jesse.  She’s supposed to be the protagonist here, obviously, so why is it that I feel that I didn’t learn anything about her aside from being a young, naïve runaway looking for stardom in LA’s fashion industry?  Maybe it’s supposed to be a commentary of how the industry often seems to idolize good-looking, but empty-headed cyphers as the next big thing, but I doubt it, because that’s what Sarah and Gigi represent.  By comparison, Jesse is not the most attractive looking model we see, but they respond to the fact that she’s natural in her appearance and persona, which is subverting the cliché of the fashion world never seeing beauty as anything but skin-deep.  So why can’t we get a good sense of who Jesse is, too?  That would have also helped Jesse’s change in motivations after she begins her industry rise not feel like they’re completely random, particularly given how she quickly becomes cold and vapid (especially in regards to Dean, who then just disappears from the movie completely).  Same goes for the other characters, especially Ruby, Sarah and Gigi, as we don’t get enough of a concept of how they reached their changed perspectives, as if the film is missing scenes.

Then again, I guess Refn would justify that by his seeming idea that we won’t care about how skimpy the film’s narrative is, because we apparently love his bizarre and interludes, complete with his trademark gaudy colors, wide and antiseptic rooms/hallways and punishing synth-heavy music.  In his films like Bronson and Drive, I have no problem with it, but here, they stop the plot dead in its tracks, are suffocating, dull, aggravating and embarrassingly on-the-nose in how they tangentially connect to the narrative and made me feel like he’s self-consciously trying to make the movie seem more deep and profound than really it is.  In addition, the dialogue is arch and obvious (and it can’t be passed off as "oh, this is a reflection of how empty-headed models/people in the industry are" when every character not connected to it is the same way), the film’s way too long and draggy at 2 hours and the performances are all merely passable, even by usually interesting and underrated actors like Elle Fanning, Keanu Reeves, Desmond Harrington and Jena Malone.  Again, I don’t know what’s going on with Refn as a director, because he’s certainly daring and has talent, but that just makes this one even worse and proves that when talented filmmakers fall, they go down hard and the results are often not pretty.

 7. Nocturnal Animals

2009’s A Single Man was a pretty excellent debut film by former fashion designer Tom Ford, looking at the insular life of a 1960s English professor struggling with the death of his male lover and his societal alienation relating to the real-life events of the time (specifically, the Cuban Missile Crisis) and his semi-closeted homosexuality.  It was a film that somehow felt realistic and dream-like at the same time and it had Ford’s assured direction, a tangible atmosphere, a lack of pretension and some excellent performances (most notably by its lead, Colin Firth) to make it all work. Here we are 7 years later with Ford’s second film, Nocturnal Animals, and let me tell you; “sophomore slump” doesn’t even begin to describe this one.  It has similar ambitions of giving us an ethereal atmosphere and exploration of sexual hang-ups, as well as intentions of giving us deep and profound perspectives on the characters that make up this psychological drama/thriller hybrid, but this is an empty, painfully obvious, insufferably pretentious and extremely ugly disaster that represents a massive comedown for him and the amazing cast he assembled, as well as 2016’s Exhibit A of awful and sanctimonious films with awards season hopes that fooled some people into thinking it’s a profound and artistic masterpiece, but not me.

The opening shot of this movie shows us two fully naked and obese women (which the soft-focus camera ogles every inch of) gyrating in a performance art display, a clear sign of the film announcing itself as self-satisfied and embarrassingly "artsy" from the word “go” and diving further down the rabbit hole from there.  Anyway, this sight turns out to be the latest project for an art gallery by curator Susan Morrow (Amy Adams), an insomniac woman who lives in a fancy house with her new husband, Hutton (Armie Hammer).  Susan gets a package in the mail from her ex-husband, Edward (Jake Gyllenhaal), which contains a manuscript entitled Nocturnal Animals, which is the result of him finally writing a book after telling Susan and others for years that he eventually would.  When Hutton leaves town for business, Susan starts reading Edward’s work and becomes deeply engrossed in the story, which we see acted out in between the scenes with Susan.  The story of the book follows Tony (also played by Gyllenhaal) who, while on a road trip with his wife, Laura (Isla Fisher) and teenage daughter India (Ellie Bamber), is harassed by a group of lowlife reckless drivers, led by Ray Marcus (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), who eventually knock Tony’s car off of the road and psychologically torture him and his family.  This results in the men kidnapping Laura and India, while leaving Tony alone in the Texas desert.  Tony eventually is able to find his way to town and gets in contact with Bobby Andes (Michael Shannon), a hardened police officer who teams up with Tony to try and find Ray and his accomplices, while also, hopefully, finding Laura and India. In addition to this, we get flashbacks to the days of Susan and Edward’s relationship, starting with their first meeting and going through the moments in their marriage that would eventually bring an end to it.  This is because Susan has these memories awakened as she reads the book, recognizing that it’s a clear metaphor for their failed marriage.  From its themes, topics and characters, as well as the concept of it making Edward a heroic and proactive defender of himself and his family which, in their marriage and through most of his life, he was not, it’s a case of art imitating life that Susan is strongly reacting to, while also perhaps revealing that her current marriage and existence isn’t as great as it seems and the possible regrets that she may have over leaving Edward.    

I feel like Tom Ford was trying to emulate David Lynch with this one, given how the latter often uses surreal and sometimes shocking imagery to effectively tap into the dramatic intrigue and, sometimes, extremely twisted humor related to human taboos and our personal demons/mental baggage.  Indeed, the cinematically rare form of nudity in the opening that I snidely dismissed earlier is the kind of thing that I’ve seen Lynch do, but in the case of his best films, they take similar material, as well as other even bleaker concepts than we see here, and make them amount to something dramatically, while also drawing the audience into the off-beat, yet still authentic universe of its story and characters.  I get that the point of this movie is to dive into the guts of relationships and emphasize the regrets, second thoughts, neuroses and emotional baggage that often connect to them, but unlike the aforementioned Lynch’s Eraserhead and Mulholland Drive (the latter of which I’ve heard this one ludicrously compared to in a favorable context), the narrative content here is pathetically shallow and obvious, while the bizarre stylistic touches are overcompensating, self-conscious, grotesque just for the sake of being grotesque and full of cynical, empty and insultingly on-the-nose symbolism that tries and fails to make the movie come off as more intelligent, profound and vital about its story and characters than it really is.

Ooh, Edward’s book is him airing out the dirty laundry of his marriage by writing himself into the role of Tom because he was a weak man when he was married to Susan and guess what?  He’s weak here, too, but with an arc that gives him a chance to not be impotent (likely in more ways than one), while also emphasizing the Freudian mommy issues he’s working out by the treatment of Laura and India (who clearly are reflecting his marriage to Susan), as well as emphasizing how much of an empty progressive closet basket-case Susan is (which, in all honesty, he is correct about).  Isn’t that clever?  No, not really; it just seems like an empty, self-aggrandizing and ridiculous passive-aggressive game that Edward’s playing as an answer, I guess, to the same tactic Susan used when they were married, the latter of whom is now drawn into the book and wondering if maybe she was wrong with how coldly she treated him.  Regardless, it’s not interesting or investing, because Susan and Edward are not sympathetic or particularly engrossing characters, there are multiple loose ends that waste time and add nothing to them or the plot (specifically, the infidelity of Hutton and what she saw in him to make her want to marry him) and also, because the structure of bouncing between the main plot, the flashbacks of Susan and Edward together and the story of the book make it so there’s no stakes here.  We already know that their relationship is over and, no matter what happens in the book or the flashbacks, nothing’s really going to change in the main story because of their massive physical distance from each other (I believe she’s in California and he’s on the East Coast) and their now totally different lives. You’d think that the ending of the film would be the key to making everything we see matter regarding the trajectories of Susan and Edward, particularly in connection with the book, but it doesn’t, as it boils down to simplistic moralizing in an unfulfilling and abrupt open-ended close that feels as if it’s only like that so it can claim that it’s not a quick and tidy resolution and that the movie has “depth” and “layers,” which it doesn’t.

As far as the story of Edward’s manuscript is concerned, it’s pretty clichéd and predictable pulp revenge crime fare with some really repulsive and exploitative narrative spice to really force its sense of menace.  Specifically, I had a big problem with Ray and his goons, who are so over-the-top with how repugnant they are, both in terms of their appearance and actions, that every scene with them took me out of the film.  Yet, the movie relishes in them and their exploits, to the point of kind of sexualizing them, particularly as it relates to their treatment of Laura and India and even to a bizarre and (allegedly) darkly comedic scene where Ray is using a toilet that he has on his front porch and is asking permission to wipe before he can talk to Bobby, who came by to investigate.  Also not helping is the performance by Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Ray, since he’s just an empty creep who’s unctuously trying too hard to be threatening and only succeeding in spots because of the inherent seediness of the material and who, again, is such a massive turn-off that I couldn’t stay invested (not that I was drawn in much anyway).  I constantly get into arguments with friends as to whether Johnson’s worst acting was in 2014’s Godzilla (which I say he was fine in), but his role here is the one I’d give that dubious distinction to, and I’d like to think that those who hated him in Godzilla would be begging for that role again after seeing him here.  

Come to think of it, most of the acting in this film is sub-par or the actors are just wasted, despite some pretty big talent on display here.  Amy Adams as Susan is stilted and dull, but not for a good story reason or in a particularly intriguing way (unlike, say, her far better role in the recent Arrival), Johnson, as I said, is awful, Armie Hammer is bland and pushy as Hutton, and Isla Fisher, Jena Malone, Michael Sheen and Laura Linney contribute so little to the film that they’re only worth mentioning to remind people that “hey, they’re in this” (Linney is only in one scene as Edward’s mother, where she adds less weight and importance than her turn in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out Of The Shadows, of all things).  The only performance here that I liked is from Michael Shannon as Bobby, especially because he has a semi-interesting (if not kind of stock) arc and some good rapport and chemistry with Jake Gyllenhaal, the latter of whom is only of note in the scenes he shares with Shannon (outside of that, he’s mannered to a distracting and off-putting degree, while making me depressed that, after his career-best performance in Nightcrawler, Gyllenhaal’s lost his touch badly given this, Demolition and Southpaw).  Actually, I could see those two actors working well in a movie that’s just in the style of the story of the book here, as they’ve shown before that they’re up to the task and their scenes also have a few jump scares that did work on me.  Then again, I’m basically saying that Ford should have ditched most everything here and made a completely different movie than what Nocturnal Animals ended up being, which if it turned out not being the slick, talent-wasting, vile and pretentious junk that this is, would have been fine by me.  

8. Ghostbusters

Oh yeah, I’m goin’ there. We all know about the Ghostbusters movie we got this year from Bridesmaids director Paul Feig, which ignited a firestorm of controversy over the fact that it was not a continuation of the story from the two 1980s films, but a new one with 4 women in the lead roles. The announcement of this resulted in outrage and worry over its trailers from hardcore fans of the originals, some of which was repulsively sexist, while we also got screams of sexism from social justice warriors convinced this it having women in it would make it better than the earlier films, some of which was also beyond the pale, most notably the debate-destroying rhetoric coming from director Feig himself, who went on Twitter tirades against fans and critics that are much too vulgar for me to print here (even against some people who were being reasonable and not sexist in their skepticism over the film and yes, there were those who were against this picture before its release without being misogynistic about it).  Too bad for Feig then, that the early suspicions of his Ghostbusters were totally justified, because this is a slapdash, immature, draggy, unfunny and warmed-over disaster that’s less interested in being a funny current-day twist on an 80s classic than being a politically correct apology for it and the era that saw its release.  Not to mention, in the most ironic of twists, this awful film is sexist as all get out, proving that Feig, the massively overrated (seriously, I haven’t recommended any film of his) and so-called “most female-friendly male comedy director,” is a massive hypocrite with even more massive deflection issues.

Like the original, the film opens with a paranormal attack and then, shifts to Columbia University, where this time, Dr. Erin Gilbert (Kristen Wiig) is currently on the tenure track and is reminded of a book she once published that supposedly contained evidence that ghosts are real.  Erin’s former colleague, Abby Yates (Melissa McCarthy), tipped off another publisher about the book, because Abby wants her and Erin to reunite and get back to proving that ghosts are real, while Erin wants to bury it all, fearing it’ll jeopardize her chances at tenure.  After the dean of Columbia, Harold Filmore (Charles Dance), finds out about Erin’s past via a Youtube video of her and Abby apparently seeing a ghost, Erin’s fired, as are Abby and her new partner, Jillian Holtzmann (Kate McKinnon), so the three women steal some equipment from Columbia (because theft = feminism, right?) and open up their own paranormal studies shop.  They’re particularly curious about a group of reported sightings of ghosts around New York, despite the claims of a famous ghost debunker, and they get a particularly strong lead when they meet Patty (Leslie Jones), an African American MTA subway worker who claims she saw a ghost on the tracks. Using Jillian’s ghost-catching equipment from her uncle and an old hearse, the four women, including Patty, begin seeking and busting ghosts all around town, while their dim secretary, Kevin Beckman (Chris Hemsworth), holds down their headquarters, located above a Chinese takeout shop.  Meanwhile, a male loner named Rowan (Neil Casey) seems to be connected to all the ghost attacks happening and the recent sightings have caught the eye of Mayor Bradley (Andy Garcia) and his assistant Jennifer Lynch (Cecily Strong), who balance between wanting the new Ghostbusters’ help and keeping the public calm.

There are a few things I want to explain up-front before I go on.  First of all, though I love the original Ghostbusters film from 1984, I didn’t first see it until 2004 and I still haven’t seen 1989’s Ghostbusters 2, so I don’t have a nostalgic horse in this race when I say this new movie’s junk.  Second, I don’t hate this movie because the new Ghostbusters are female and, even though it’s a very sad statement on American society that I even need to say something as obvious as this, I’m not against the concept of female Ghostbusters. Indeed, it’s possible to make a more feminist take on a popular 80s series that also captures the so-called testosterone-fueled aura that it originally became a hit for, which was the case with last year’s Mad Max: Fury Road. That film was my pick for the best movie of 2015 for, among other things, emphasizing its new feminist angle in a wonderfully organic way via the Furiosa character, which wonderfully dovetailed with and was effectively balanced between the more machismo angle of Max, both in context of that movie and in that series’ past 3 installments. Ghostbusters’ feministic approach is not organic and, like Terminator Genisys last year, the movie’s push for it gives off the aura that there’s something morally unacceptable with the 1984 original not having women in the lead roles.  If the earlier films were hateful in some way, that would be one thing, but both The Terminator and Ghostbusters showed stronger female portrayals for the time than they’re given credit for, the former due to Sarah Connor’s strong and active female presence alongside John Connor (along with her basically being the savior of the galaxy) and the latter due to both Annie Potts’s Janine and Sigourney Weaver’s Dana, who had dimension, depth and a personal drive separate from the male leads that still stood out.  So, if these two movies are arguing that the originals were sexist, which I say they are, they don’t know what they’re talking about, not to mention that neither of these modern versions show any gratitude to their classic inspirations because, let’s be honest; they’d never exist without the originals.  

Meanwhile, this Ghostbusters movie is sexist, and I’m not talking about the way it paints its male characters (I guess you could argue that by how it makes Kevin such an obvious and unfunny idiot and Rowan a walking, talking, self-aggrandizing self-commentary on the film’s pre-release controversy, but it’s more pathetically cheap and lazy to me than hateful). We were told that the idea of the female Ghostbusters movie was to break the patriarchy by subverting the usual Hollywood female character clichés, but shockingly, it’s actually reinforcing those stereotypes by the insulting way it draws its leads, which was the last thing I expected.  Outside of their science knowledge, which is just thickly laid on for expository purposes that aren’t interesting, logical or humorous, Erin, Abby and Jillian are just quip-machines with no personalities or interesting development, except for the aforementioned female character stereotypes, which the film repeatedly bombards us with like a bad sitcom and which none of the actresses can overcome.  Erin’s supposed to be a strong, independent woman, but that’s undone by how film portrays her as the typical meek and quiet nerd who’s suddenly and unbelievably attracted to the first hot guy she sees (Kevin) and, in a later scene played for cheap and unearned pathos, tells us she was bullied as a child.  As far as Abby and Jillian are concerned, Abby’s a rehash of the now beyond tired Melissa McCarthy fat-shaming shtick with her constantly falling down, yelling and being obsessed with food, (the Chinese place is constantly getting her dumpling order wrong), and Jillian’s a pushy, endlessly free-spirited, reckless and empty science girl-power wizard who thinks she’s funnier than she really is.  

Yeah, with tropes like those, these characters aren’t exactly empowering or breaking the mold by how they’re depicted (certainly not like Furiosa in Fury Road) but worst of all, they’re not funny either, despite the past talents of Wiig, McCarthy and McKinnon.  Also, director Feig makes the same mistake here that he did with Bridesmaids; he thinks these actresses are so funny and that every line they speak is comedic gold, that he lets them riff on and on in every so-called comedic scene, which drags them out way past the point where they might have had a shot at being funny, kills the pace of the film and made me resent the cast and crew for their unwillingness to show some restraint (the scene set to Debarge’s Rhythm Of The Night is a perfect example of that and there are many others begging for a good editor).  As far as Patty’s concerned, she’s also a stereotype and, on paper, a potentially racist one, given her constant attitude, street smarts and jive-talking, but to be honest, she’s the character I liked the most here because, unlike Wiig, McCarthy and McKinnon, Leslie Jones is able to rise above her underwritten role.  Jones’s delivery and cynical outlook was refreshing and better in practice than I expected from what we saw of Patty in the trailers, to the point where I did smile a couple of times at some of her cracks (which, interestingly enough, make me think of her as this new team’s closest equivalent to Bill Murray’s Peter Venkman from the earlier movies, as opposed to some arguing Wiig’s Erin does that) and where I wished the whole movie was about her.  The idea of a character I already like (more than any of the other leads) in a working-class job who has the talents and knowledge of New York City and the subway system that Patty has getting involved with the paranormal herself, I think, would be a great idea for the Ghostbusters enterprise. It could fit in with many of the themes of the series, while also changing it up on the angle of being a solo paranormal warrior/entrepreneur and also, being an African American woman breaking through to success, perhaps by learning about the technological stuff on the internet and buying the old Ghostbusters’ gear on eBay (almost like Nightcrawler if it were a comedy). But now, I’m just giving free advice about the film I’d like to have seen instead of the one I actually saw.  

Even with Jones making a good impression and with this being a slightly better Melissa McCarthy movie than The Boss (a low bar to clear, as I specified earlier), none of that is enough to save the film, or make up for its other issues.  The film’s humor, along with just not being funny, is frequently desperate and, at times, crude in a way that doesn’t work and doesn’t fit with this enterprise (hit to the groin jokes? No thanks), the Ghostbusters fan service, with one globular exception, is flat and pathetic, the special effects are bad (and not in an “I’m paying homage to the past” way), the villainous Rowan is just creepy and not an interesting or memorable antagonist, the movie’s way too long at 2 hours and the editing is atrocious, with scenes that transition abruptly, lack cohesion and/or drop earlier subplots entirely, as if the film wasn’t finished or, more likely, was cut down from an R rating to a "family friendly" PG-13.  Thankfully, despite Feig and Sony demanding we like/accept this and vilifying/labeling us if we didn’t, America saw that this Ghostbusters was just an unfunny and bad cash-grab that was cynically riding on the gender twist on its previously beloved male creation that can’t even do its social justice angle right and refused to support it.  Now, where else did we see that deservedly happen in 2016? Hmm…

9. Ratchet & Clank

Ahh, the video game to movie adaptation.  Since the 1990s, movie studios have taken popular video games series and turned them into movies in the hopes of getting long-time fans of the franchises to buy a ticket, while also convincing newcomers to do the same.  Too bad that, with the exception, I’d say, of Hitman (the first one) and a few cases of guilty pleasures, like Dead Or Alive and some of the Resident Evil movies, there really hasn’t been a good video game movie adaptation, as they’ve failed as films, first and foremost, and also, failed to capture the essence of the game in question.  This year, we got 4 movies based on video games (the others were The Angry Birds Movie and two I missed; Assassin’s Creed and Warcraft), but the one that got my attention and anticipation the most was Ratchet & Clank. This series, going back to the PlayStation 2 days (and continuing even today), was a fun and funny cartoony platform shooter with an appealingly sly and knowing sensibility about itself, so the idea of a CG animated movie based on the series sounded like a perfect fit and, when I heard it was co-written by T.J. Fixman, who wrote the scripts for the PS3 and PS4 Ratchet & Clank games, and was directed by TMNT director Kevin Munroe, whose first gig was directing a 2003 video game called Freaky Flyers, I thought this one couldn’t possibly fail.  Yet, it turned out to be the worst animated film I saw this year, as well as a disgrace to this great series, but most ironically, it was a bad game adaptation that, amazingly, did capture the spirit of the franchise, while somehow still missing the point and screwing up.  

The film is a loose retelling of the story from the original 2002 game, with the galaxy being taken over by Chairman Drek (Paul Giamatti), starting with him and his henchmen, the Blargg, destroying an abandoned planet.  The attack gains the attention of the galaxy’s main heroes, the Galactic Rangers, led by their pompous and self-absorbed, but apparently beloved leader, Captain Quark (Jim Ward), who put out a talent search for a new face to add to their team to help fight and defeat Drek.  Enter a young and orphaned lombax (think a bipedal bobcat and you get the idea) named Ratchet (James Arnold Taylor), a junk-shop mechanic’s assistant who’s a huge fan of the Galactic Rangers and dreams of making the cut and going on space-faring adventures with them, much to the dismay of his boss, Grimroth (John Goodman).  Meanwhile, Drek has learned of the intended plan of the Rangers and breaks Quark’s arch nemesis, Dr. Nefarious (Armin Shimerman), out of jail to intimidate them and build a robot army to stop them, but not before one of the rejected robots they make hears of Drek and Nefarious’s plans, escapes from the factory and crash lands on Ratchet’s planet.  Ratchet finds the robot, named Clank (David Kaye), and brings him along to try and join the Rangers which, because of Clank’s information, he’s able to, and the rest of the film follows Ratchet, Clank and the Rangers’ quest to stop Drek and Nefarious, as well as showing Quark’s jealously of Ratchet’s increasing popularity with his group and with the citizens following Ratchet and Clank’s successful rescue of the city from Drek’s initial robotic onslaught.

All the while, the movie has the same knowing and sly sense of humor as the video games, including the scene-setting text that skewers the self-important aura that usually comes with such displays and some of the smile-inducing PlayStation in-jokes, with references to other cartoony Sony game series like Sly Cooper and an audio cue that’s actually the boot-up jingle of the original PlayStation console.  Finally, after years of video game movies not capturing the spirit of their subjects, Ratchet & Clank is one of the few that actually does it, yet I hated this movie, felt totally miserable watching it and all those things I mentioned that worked so well in the games fail terribly in this film translation. Considering how accurate it sounds like it is, how did that happen?  I think it comes down to two things, both of which reflect my now shifted opinion that a video game movie being accurate alone is not enough to make it work.  First, like Zack Snyder’s 2009 film translation of the graphic novel, Watchmen, it’s too accurate for its own good, to the point where it’s so obsessed with being a great movie version of the original source material, that it, ironically, doesn’t realize that it’s lost touch with the meaning of what they’re adapting.  

Yeah, we have all the voice actors, characters, set-pieces, and narrative methods and beats of the Ratchet & Clank enterprise, but what of it?  I didn’t feel any connection to this world or its inhabitants, even with my previous knowledge and fandom of the games, the jokey asides quickly get aggravating and repetitive in a way that the games never did, there’s a surprisingly mean streak here with the smart and nerdy characters being constantly mocked and shamed (hey, filmmakers, this series and the video game world it belongs to is always viewed with those stereotypes, is kept going by people who'd be pigeonholed into that cultural box and were clearly your target audience here; how stupid can you be by attacking them?), and the movie makes a big miscalculation in its depiction of the two main characters.  In all of the games, Ratchet and Clank are inseparable from each other and the stories have both of them in the center of all the action and plot developments.  The film, however, almost completely sidelines Clank by focusing on Ratchet and his clichéd arc of the passionate and talented nerd who keeps pushing for respect and his dreams, even as he’s getting smacked down in life.  I don’t mind that the film starts with that approach, since it is consistent with developing Ratchet and Clank separately before bringing them together, just like the first game did, but I do mind that the movie tosses Clank aside after that, because the stuff without him isn’t interesting enough to make me forget it, what little development we do get of them together is poorly defined and lacks consistency (and even being a fan of the games like me doesn’t help that) and it ultimately squanders a great opportunity that the movie had to capture the main narrative strength from the games; the great chemistry and byplay between Ratchet and Clank.  That, and it’s false advertising; I paid money to see Ratchet AND Clank, people.

The second main element that makes it fail, I think, is the filmmakers’ lack of understanding of the differences between the medium of cinema and the medium of video games. After seeing many films based on a work from a non-movie source over my years, I’ve ultimately come to the conclusion that it’s impossible to compare the success of a film to the success of a video game or, for that matter, a book, a comic, a stage play, a written play or any other medium you care to choose, because they’re intrinsically different art forms.  What works in a video game may not easily translate to a film, just like the elements that make a movie work might not always be as effective in a game, because one is a passive medium and the other is an interactive one. Considering that director Kevin Munroe has worked in both mediums before, it’s surprising that he wasn’t able to imbue this film with the tricks he learned from his game experience or, for that matter, from his past movie experience. I kept thinking of his underrated 2007 film, TMNT, which kind of played like a fun mix of a movie and a game by giving us the characterizations that an animated film can bring, while also delivering some technically impressive looking and executed action scenes that we love having in a video game, which is best shown in that great courtyard fight scene that looked like something a game could have done, but adding cinematic flair to it, namely by impressively staging it to play out in a 5 minute long unbroken shot.  

Ratchet & Clank, by comparison, doesn’t blend the two well because, despite its great voice cast (including the game’s cast, as well as usually dependable talents like Paul Giamatti and Sylvester Stallone), they’re wasted, not funny and they don’t make the characters interesting to grab us like a movie should, while on the game side, the action is badly staged and dull, the CG animation is shockingly bland (and doesn’t even look as good as the decade old PlayStation 3 Ratchet & Clank game, Tools Of Destruction, let alone the most recent PlayStation 4 one) and despite its stabs at capturing the spirit of the enterprise, it still fails to make us embrace, enjoy and accept it on that level as a representation of the series.  The good news is that people mostly avoided this movie (though clearly, I didn’t) and it seems to have not had a negative effect on the game franchise, which is still the best way to get yourself acquainted with these great characters, especially since the cost of one of the old PS2 or PS3 games is likely cheaper than either the original ticket price for this or its now bargain-bin destined DVD/Blu-Ray.

10. The BFG

Wow, this was an awful year for live-action fantasy adaptations based on books because, out of all the ones I saw in 2016, not a single one was good.  The BFG, to be fair, is probably not as bad a movie in that category as the other two that I’ll be tearing apart in my 11-20 list, but the reason that this made the list over those is because its badness is more upsetting and unacceptable to me.  Let’s be honest here; when you scroll down and see the names of those other two similar films, I guarantee that, if you really think about the recent pedigree of their series and/or directors, the appearance of their lack of quality to me will not at all be surprising to you, regardless of whether you agree with me or not.  However, The BFG, even more than the also crushing Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them, is the book-to-movie fantasy this year that sounded like an obvious home run, given that it’s based on the famous Roald Dahl novel (which, for once, makes this a film based on a book where I’ve actually read the book), it was written by the late scribe of E.T., Melissa Mathieson, it’s shares the same director as E.T., Steven Spielberg and the title role was given to the great Mark Rylance, who deservedly won an Oscar last year for his role in Spielberg’s previous film, Bridge Of Spies (my 10th best movie of 2015).   In fact, this sounded so great to me that, of all the major movies that came out last summer, this is the one I was looking forward to the most, which made it all the more painful and rage-inducing that it ended up as an empty, dull, emotionally inert and off-putting style over substance mess that's as bad a movie from Spielberg since, ironically, the last film he opened on 4th Of July weekend, 2005’s War Of The Worlds.  

The movie opens just like the book does, with young orphan Sophie (Ruby Barnhill) suffering from insomnia and finding herself awake yet again at 3 am at the London orphanage she lives at.  She calls this time “the witching hour,” where she goes out to her balcony to look out and see if any monsters, like those she reads about in her books, happen to show up. One night, she hears a noise and, when she looks out, she sees a giant running around the streets and, when the giant spots her, he takes Sophie away and back to his home in Giant Country. Sophie, having read in books that giants tend to have a penchant for eating children, fears for her safety, especially when the giant tells her that she’ll need to live with him forever to prevent the secret of giants from being revealed to “human beans,” as he calls them, but the giant turns out to be friendly and not interested in eating her. Actually, the giant, who Sophie then starts to refer to as BFG, or the Big Friendly Giant (played by Mark Rylance) has the power of capturing and disseminating dreams, with a particular interest of providing good dreams to children, hence his frequent midnight runs around London.  That’s in direct contrast to a group of bigger and meaner giants, let by Fleshlumpeater (Jemaine Clement), who constantly harass the BFG and like nothing more than eating children, traits of which are intensified when they believe that the BFG is harboring a child.  As the BFG tries to protect Sophie, she suggests that he fights back against the bullies, resulting in a scheme to manipulate the dreams of the Queen of England to keep both of them safe, as well as protect other children as it relates to potential death by consumption at the hands of the giants.  

If you’re familiar with the book, like I am, you’ll be able to tell that this is actually a pretty faithful cinematic translation of the story, what with the setups, characters and lines of dialogue, particularly the made-up words (like snozzcumber and frobscottle) and the BFG’s different ideas of human terms and concepts.  Also, the film certainly looks beautiful and appropriately other-worldly, thanks to some pretty vivid art direction and use of color (most effective in the scene in the realm of dreams), seamless CG of the giants, good cinematography by Janusz Kiminski and a convincing sense of scale between Sophie, the BFG and the other giants.  Also, the lead performances by Rylance as the BFG and Barnhill as Sophie are expressive and did seem accurate to characters (though Barnhill is playing that stereotypical wide-eyed young "wise prior to her years" British girl trope a bit too heavily for me).  So, if I like the way this film looks, enjoy the lead characters and are saying that it accurately captures the book’s story and atmosphere in the film, why do I hate it? Well, because like Ratchet & Clank, this is one of those “they know the words, but not the music” situations, where I didn’t feel any heart, humanity or connection to the world and characters that I got out of the book, effectively nullifying any of this film’s positives and its surface accuracy to the original source material.  I say that the accuracy to the book is “surface” because, though it looks and seems to get everything right with its setup and technical elements, it fails to capture the underlying feelings related to them, specifically the bond between Sophie and the BFG.

It’s not that the movie rushes through or cuts down the scenes developing the relationship between the BFG and Sophie, because it doesn’t.  The characters (and by extension, the audience) do get the time needed to talk, get to know each other and establish themselves and their bond, unlike too many other family films, including book adaptations like this, which tend to overcompensate and show their lack of audience trust by just throwing endless frenzy at us.  Sounds perfect on paper, but in practice, I didn’t feel that their relationship was growing at all and I didn’t get a sense of the strange wonder and/or magic connected to this world.  Maybe it’s because the film’s structure is so repetitive, as it’s mostly just going from Sophie and the BFG talking, the mean giants causing trouble, Sophie and the BFG escaping, a fantasy scene to solve Sophie and the BFG’s current problems and back again until the end.  Some may wonder if I’m being hypocritical by criticizing this movie for the same story structure as the book while  trashing the former and praising the latter, but this goes back to my “movies are a different medium” argument, where what comes off effectively in one medium doesn’t automatically work in another, and vice versa.  This movie may be accurate to the book narratively speaking, but unlike the book, I am not feeling engrossed or touched by the film and, I’m sorry, that includes the usage of the made-up words which come off in the movie feeling like nothing but self-consciously precious shop-talk to cover up its failure to draw us into the world and its characters, its failure to tell this story in a way that doesn’t make me feel like it’s flimsy and repetitive and to elongate the movie’s length to 2 hours.  Speaking of the length, I think that may be the other issue here; the pacing is way too slow and draggy and, since I’m not feeling the bond between Sophie and the BFG and, thus, I’m not caring about them in the way I should be, that becomes a negative, even knowing that a more deliberate pace should fit this story.

I couldn’t believe how uninterested and uninvested I was in this movie and, about halfway through, I could almost feel my stomach sinking as the realization came over me that “this movie isn’t ever going to start clicking with me” and that my most anticipated film of the summer was crashing and burning in front of my eyes.  At this point, I started to mentally check out of this, as did the restless, talkative and, in one case, iPad using kids at my screening (suggesting that even kids might not like this, while also suggesting they’re incapable of common audience courtesy at the movies), but it was as the film entered its third act that it went beyond a massive personal disappointment into a never-ending time-waster that I actively resented in a soon rapidly growing fashion. I suggested earlier that the film wastes our time with the book’s fake words that it should have been able to use for character and world-building, but it really does that later on when the plot literally stops for that awful scene when Sophie and the BFG have breakfast at the palace.  This is a 10-minute scene where literally nothing plot-related happens, despite the previous scene having them cement their plan to fight back against the giants, and the forced whimsy, overproduced production design and the self-consciously twee dialogue on display here drove me insane.  And what’s the big payoff of that scene?  A massive, pathetic and unfunny fart joke.  Which reminds me, this film has a litany of scatological and crude humor that I don’t remember from the book (or remember being a turn-off), which is just unpleasant, ugly and desperate, including the other fart jokes induced by the BFG’s beloved frobscottle fizzy drink and the hits to the crotch that the mean giants take (hmm, maybe this movie doesn’t respect the intelligence of the audience after all).  

Also, the evil giants themselves have nothing interesting going for them, except how repulsive they are, the only reason I care about the BFG and Sophie defeating them is so they’ll go away and also, regarding that plan they have to stop the giants, it actually exudes a pretty unintentionally awful moral to the story.  Without giving too much away, the movie is telling us to follow our dreams at any cost, but when you think about how Sophie and the BFG use dreams to gain the assistance of the Queen to help them with the giants, it’s telling us that we should never give up on our dreams, even when they’re rooted in violence, ignorance and delusion as they end up being, a message that, considering the kind of world we’re living in now, isn’t something that anyone should be condoning, especially like this. So yeah, The BFG is a pretty awful movie coming from people who really should have known better and, after being so horribly crushed by this, it’s enough to make me more careful about anticipating films that seem, on the surface, to be a sure thing, as well as justification to write the following on the epitaph of the awful summer movie season that this came out during; "At least we got Finding Dory and Pete’s Dragon."

Now, for the 11-20 worst films of the year, listed in alphabetical order:

 The Accountant

If you go by the review scores I gave to the films in this worst of essay, this crime thriller/drama from Miracle and Warrior director Gavin O'Connor about a world-wandering autistic Illinois accountant with a secret penchant for armed and unarmed combat, espionage and finding himself involved in corruption and murder plots is the one I liked most, given that I gave it 2 stars out of 4 (the other 19 films scored less).  However, I also said that “I’m being a bit nice with that score” when I reviewed it, due to how impenetrable, uninteresting and empty it is and also, because of its quite ugly elements, especially its two-faced and ultimately hateful attitude towards people with autism.  After thinking about The Accountant a little more and also, seeing how its offensive outlook at people with mental disabilities fits a pervasive and hateful pattern in modern films, I realize I was definitely being too kind to it and I can feel myself resenting it one more and more with each passing day, so it’s now on my bottom 11-20 list.  

The movie stars Ben Affleck (who really had a horrible 2016 at the movies between this, Batman V Superman, Suicide Squad and, apparently, his own Live By Night) as Christian Wolff, an autistic accountant who’s brought in by John Lithgow’s Lamar Black to find the source of a multi-million-dollar leak in his robotics company’s bottom line, which was noticed by the company’s in-house account, Dana Cummings, played by Anna Kendrick.  Meanwhile, because of Christian’s double-life between his local financial consulting and shady dealings with foreign criminals, he’s starting to be noticed by Treasury Department financial director, J.D King (J.K. Simmons), who wants more information about who Christian is and blackmails young analyst Marybeth (Cynthia Addai-Robinson) to help him.  After figuring out where the leak is in record time, Christian is stopped by Lamar after the CFO of the robotics company mysteriously dies,  but he was actually murdered by an assassin for knowing too much about their complex embezzlement/conspiracy plot against the company and soon enough, Christian and Dana’s lives are also threatened but, because Christian is such a capable fighter, they’re able to survive while Christian heads off to stop the people behind the scheme, all while J.D and Marybeth are closing in on him and while Christian takes his cues from the voice of a mysterious woman.  

OK, first off, this story is way too jagged and throws so much information at the audience that we end up scratching our heads, but less in the “hmm, I wonder where this is going to go and I’m intrigued to see where it ends up” way than in the “I’m lost and I just don’t care anymore” way.  Eventually, the movie also gives up on itself when J.D and Marybeth reach Christian’s now abandoned house, resulting in a scene where the story literally stops for 15 minutes as we sit there and watch J.D. explain everything to us that the movie should have been making clear to us before that point.  From there, the film pushes towards its contrived, ridiculous and insulting ending and bombards us with choppy, uninteresting and, especially in the scenes set at night, incomprehensible action scenes that sickeningly relish in the suffering of the innocent victims and, at times, have the nerve to try and make that cruelty funny (the scene with the CFO and a local farming owning couple are particularly galling), all while showing us how Christian deals with the happenings around him and how his autism comes into play.  

That latter point is where this movie really offended me because I myself have a form of autism and, though I understand the idea of giving a deeper psychological angle to the characters on paper, in practice, the autism material is full of logical holes and adds nothing but an excuse to stereotype Christian and, by extension, all autistic people as obsessives with a potential fighter/killer in them who are sometimes really funny with their inability to understand every social cue that so-called normal people claim to be able to pick up on instantly. Considering all the modern-day finger-waving we get from bleeding hearts (including many people in this cast and crew) about how we need to show respect to everyone who’s different, it’s disgustingly hypocritical that this film is taking that approach regarding Christian (as is the late-film moralizing about it and the reference to autism experts in the credits, who are either 1988 mentality quacks or, more likely, had their input ignored by the filmmakers) and, even worse, the film blows its obvious openings to actually do something dramatically interesting with autism in the context of the story.  For example, when Christian and Dana first meet, she’s really nervous, has her own repetitive patterns and is constantly stuttering, which had me thinking “Great! She’s showing signs of less severe autism, which should add a unique dimension to their involvement in and bond during the conspiracy plot!”  But no; she’s not autistic and, after the scene in the hotel, she totally disappears and their relationship ends up going nowhere and adding nothing.  The acting and pacing are OK, I guess, but I don’t care about anything or anyone here and it’s offensive, so don’t waste your time.

 Alice Through The Looking Glass

I didn’t see the 2010 live-action Alice In Wonderland film directed by Tim Burton, but it was apparently a tepidly reviewed box-office smash that eventually triggered a massive internet-fueled backlash against it.  As such, we got its probably not so anticipated sequel, Alice Through The Looking Glass, this year, which Tim Burton skipped out on directing (he was busy making his own junky 2016 film that you may also soon be hearing about from me) and, as my introduction to this interpretation of Lewis Carroll’s stories about the girl who fell down the rabbit hole into a magical world without logic or consistency, it makes me even more glad that I missed the original, because this follow-up is a totally uninteresting, empty, soulless and pathetic excuse for a family fantasy movie.  Apparently, audiences agreed, because this was a massive box office bomb and also, apparently, Disney themselves knew they had a disaster on their hands, as you can see signs all over this that even they didn’t have faith in it being worthwhile.

Don’t believe me on that last sentence? Well, in theaters, before the film began, we got the bewildering music video of Hearts On Fire by P!nk (a talented musician who has also shown great acting potential in the underrated Thanks For Sharing, but she's served poorly on both fronts here) that’s themed after the very movie that we’re about to see and even contains many of its big plot revelations.  I get and like the idea of short subjects before Disney family movies, but music videos that spoil parts of the movie we paid for?  Anyway, when the actual movie begins, we see Alice Kingsleigh (Mia Wasikowska) back in the real world as the captain of her father’s ship, The Wonder (that she’s able to be in a position of power like that in 19th century London is more of a fantasy than the Wonderland material, but never mind). When Alice returns to her home in London, she finds out that her father’s company and, by extension, the house of both her and her mother, was bought out by Hamish Ascot (Leo Bill), a man still bitter over Alice apparently refusing to marry him, but who agrees to give the deed to the house back if Alice turns over the ship to him.  Alice refuses and, when she retreats to a room, she sees an old friend in Absolem the caterpillar, who’s now a butterfly (he’s voiced by the late Alan Rickman) and decides to follow him back to Wonderland.  When Alice returns, she sees her other old friends, including Mirana (Anne Hathaway) and the Cheshire Cat (Stephen Fry), but quite tellingly, the Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp) is not among them.  She’s told that the Hatter is in a deep depression and, when Alice visits him, he tells her that he’s come to think that his family somehow survived the attack on them by the Jabberwocky and begs Alice to help find them.  To do this, Alice is told that she’ll need to travel through time, much to the chagrin of, well, Time (Sasha Baron Cohen), who controls it via his Chronosphere and who has a new girlfriend in the form of Alice’s old enemy, The Red Queen (Helena Bonham Carter).  Alice steals it and travels back to find and save the Hatter’s parents, all while Time is trying to stop her from ruining the space-time continuum and while The Red Queen sees the opportunity to use the Chronosphere herself to become the legitimate queen she’s always dreamt of being and to reverse a childhood battle over tarts with her sister, Mirana, that’s about as pathetic a misunderstanding/third act conflict resolution element in a major release since that infamous “Martha” business in Batman V Superman.

Despite everything potentially interesting going on in this plot and its fantasy world setting of Wonderland, this movie is dead in the water the entire time and has nothing interesting on either a visual or narrative level to make us care about anything that happens.  Regarding the film’s look, despite some decent use of color and special effects, there’s a lifeless quality to it all that keeps you at a distance from this supposedly magical setting, to the point where all I came away with was how much money was tossed at this production design that, at the end of the day, means nothing (that, and the film is too dark in many places, and I saw it in 2D; I’ll bet the 3D version was even worse on that front).  In addition, the action scenes are dull (though at least they’re shot coherently enough) and the direction by James Bobin is flat and indistinguishable from any other pedestrianly directed live-action fantasy film. The film is even worse regarding its story and characters, starting with its time-travel elements that, like most movies about that, is just ridiculous, even as a fantasy, and is littered with stupid and unfunny time puns, as well as gaping loose ends and inconsistencies. I’ve had some people who actually liked this picture argue that "there's no reason for consistency in a Lewis Carroll adaptation” and, to their credit, their more recent familiarity with the book than me and claims that it’s an accurate translation of what’s often considered a daunting book-to-film subject is a valid point.  

Even so, of what I remember from the Alice books, they still had their own twisted logic behind them that they dutifully followed to set up the stakes of the story and its characters and had us invested in the eventual outcome, while also making the heavy narrative lifting they asked of us feel worthy of that commitment.  This movie asks us to just accept this lunacy at face value and shield itself in a lazy “come on, it’s Alice In Wonderland; nothing here has to make sense!” defense, even though the jokes aren’t funny, the plot is boring and has no respect for our intelligence, the film’s message of only being able to learn from the past and not change it is completely contradicted by the fact that they then change the past anyway with no effects on the future, the characters aren’t intriguing or likable and the performances are either just passable (Mia Wasikowska as Alice, but between this and last year’s Crimson Peak, she really needs a new agent) or just aggressively shrill, mugging and embarrassing (in particular, so-called “fantasy film maestros” Sasha Baron Cohen, Johnny Depp, Anne Hathaway and especially Helena Bonham Carter are so terrible here that even the no-name kid actors playing them as youths are acting better than them). The only positives are a late scene that gave me unintended joy over the possibility that all hope was lost for the forces of good (but I wasn’t supposed to feel that way and it’s soon nullified anyway) and the fact that this tanked massively enough to prevent a third Alice film, but they’re not enough to redeem this empty mess.  Then again, I guess it does continue an annual pattern with Disney releasing live-action family film bombs on Memorial Day weekend after last year’s Tomorrowland, but even that massive misfire was infinitely better that this.

 Captain America: Civil War

I really let DC Comics’ film division have it this year, given that I put both their Batman V Superman and Suicide Squad on my 10 worst list, but to all you comic fans gloating that Marvel Studios did better than DC did in 2016, you may want to get off your high horse, because they honestly didn’t do much better themselves.  I’ll admit that Doctor Strange was decent enough, despite its refusal to commit to anything, but Marvel also had their own equivalent to Batman V Superman this year in Captain America: Civil War, the third film in their series about the patriotic plucked-from-the-1940s superhero and, as someone who loved the first two movies about Cap/Steve Rogers and his adventures in both the past and present, this was a dull, bloated, cynical and crushing misfire that robs this series of its defining attributes and characters and reveals its true colors as a shameless cog in both this now going too far Marvel Cinematic Universe business and, ultimately, the Disney/Marvel fanboy/fangirl money making machine.  

You may think I’m being out of line by even mentioning Batman V Superman in the same sentence as this, but the narrative parallels here are obvious and undeniable.  After Captain America (Chris Evans) and his new band of Avengers end up causing unintended collateral damage and death as they fight against group of villains, there’s a push by the world governments and Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.) against it that leads to a 2 ½ hour ethical debate about superhero morality/vigilantism in which Cap thinks that the world wants and needs superheroes’ help and are prepared for the unintended consequences and in which Stark argues the opposite viewpoint. This ultimately leads to a group of many Marvel Comics characters coming together and battling it out both intellectually and physically, including not just Iron Man and Cap, but also other figures with future individual movies being made about them, including Black Panther and Spider-Man and, in the third act, the big battle between Iron Man and Cap is tied to the mother of one of them.

Seriously, how is that not the exact same movie as Batman V Superman? Well, to be fair, this is better than Zack Snyder’s film, as it lacks that one’s hateful and misogynistic rancor, there are a few scenes that are decent and, though it does nothing to make me hate the narrative needlessness of them or the shameless plugging of their future movies, the introductions to the new characters, particularly Spider-Man, are interesting and kind of fun, unlike the literal walk-ons of the ones in Batman V Superman.  On the other hand, at least that movie was up front about the idea that it was going to simultaneously be a Batman film and a Superman film (even as it did it badly); Civil War, on the other hand, is selling itself as a Captain America movie, but it’s mostly sidelining Cap, his story and the ancillary faces related directly to his series in favor of giving more attention to Tony Stark (whose character in this film, unlike the others with him in it, is so one-note in his righteousness that I kind of hated him), as well as cramming in all of the hasty character introductions, sideplots and the future films it’s shamelessly trying to set up.  Honestly, this feels more like a bad Avengers sequel that lacks focus and has no concern for anyone in the audience who hasn’t seen every single Marvel Studios movie (and I’ve seen most of them, aside from the last two Iron Man films, and I still felt lost by some of the stuff here), which not only alienates newcomers, but also people like me who paid money to see a Captain America movie with him and his exploits as the primary focus.  

Even if I were able to look past all of that, the film still wouldn’t be interesting or entertaining, because the story is all over the map, the changes in the characters' motivations are completely random, the villain, like most Marvel films, sadly, is forgettable and has a pathetic scheme that’s made even more pathetic by the idiotic reasons for it and the unearned stabs at empathy, the attempts at humor fall flat and, most shocking and unacceptable of all, the action scenes are atrocious.  Seriously, this film shares the same directors and crew as the last Captain America film, The Winter Soldier, which had some of the most tense, well-shot, well-constructed, exciting and exquisite action scenes of any major studio release in the past few years, comic book film or otherwise, so why do the ones in this movie fall into all of the traps that the previous film avoided, particularly its endless and headache-inducing quick cuts and those laughably bad and sped-up special effects?  Also, despite my pacing problems with Winter Soldier, at least that one only dipped in the last 30 minutes; this one’s dull throughout and it runs even longer.  I don’t know what happened with this one and I was really surprised at just how much I disliked it, but even so, because it seems that few people are willing to say that “the emperor has no clothes” with these Marvel Studios films, this still made tons of money and was loved by comic fans. Good for them, but for me, this is exactly the kind of cynical comic Marvel movie product that Deadpool so effectively lampooned, and it’s damaged (hopefully just temporarily) probably my favorite Marvel film series.

 The Edge Of Seventeen

Have you ever wanted a John Hughes style coming-of-age teenage comedy/drama for the snowflake culture (of which we’ve seen and heard from a lot of over the past few years, let alone the past few months) that pretends to be an honest, darkly funny and intriguingly authentic look at teenage life, but is actually completely ignorant and fraudulent of basic human nature and psychology related to teenagers, while also failing to be investing, funny or credible in any way?  I haven’t, but that’s what we got out of The Edge Of Seventeen, a film that a lot of critics liked, as they’ve argued that it’s a great progressive and feminist genre-twist and authentic look at young female life/growth that many teenagers, especially young girls, will be able to easily relate to.  Well, as someone with a concept of mental illness, words this movie religiously refuses to ever let cross its lips, I say that this doesn’t know what it’s talking about and it’s also a long, predictable, painfully mannered, inauthentic and regressive effort, especially in comparison to an infinitely better, similar and deeply underappreciated animated film from last year ironically led by the same actress that plays the protagonist here (more on that later).

The film is about Nadine Franklin, played by Haile Steinfeld who, as the movie opens, we see entering the office of her Mr. Bruner (Woody Harrelson) and telling him that she’s going to kill herself.  We then go back in time to see how Nadine got to the point, starting with her childhood where she was never as popular as her brother, Darian (Blake Jenner), was often picked on by the kids at school and seemed distant from her mother, Mona (Kyra Sedgwick). However, she still had her father, Tom (Eric Keenleyside) and her then new best friend, Krista (Haley Lu Richardson) to keep her happy.  As Nadine grows up, Tom dies of a heart attack to the tune of Billy Joel’s You May Be Right (because apparently, we didn’t have enough heart attack deaths set to Billy Joel in the movies after The Hangover Part 3 did the same thing using My Life), which devastates her and her family and now, at the age of 17, Nadine finds out that Krista is in love with Darian and that they’ve slept together, which sends her over the edge.  In response, Nadine refuses to talk to Krista, is angry, defiant and mean against basically everyone close to her and begins to get the hots for Nick Mossman (Alexander Calvert), a boy who recently got out of reform school for his bad behavior.  Meanwhile, Nadine starts a tentative bond with the awkward, but still kind boy, Erwin Kim (Hayden Szeto), while Mr. Bruner tends to be on the receiving end of Nadine’s sass, which he often takes and then, dishes back out at her tenfold.  We also get a subplot about Mona trying to date again, along with the stories of Krista and Darian, the former wanting to make up with Nadine, the latter basically holding the entire family together, especially with Nadine being how she is now, and both trying to balance their healthy and loving relationship with their bonds to Nadine.

The film wants you to believe that this story is about a teenage girl struggling through hard situations that are exacerbated by being a moody 17-year-old, but that’s a lie.  In reality, it’s actually about a hateful, smug and selfish girl (even by teenager standards and even with her baggage) with clear psychological problems that the movie bends over backwards to avoid honestly dealing with.  This movie is set in 2016, a time when increasingly destructive, self-loathing and hateful behavior from teenagers like Nadine, which includes her mean-spirited and delusional putdowns towards most everyone, the threats she makes towards others and herself (including her claim that she’ll kill herself) and her push for a sexual tryst with Nick, are no longer viewed as just “part of being a teenager,” but as a sign of serious mental health issues. On the home front, Mona’s lack of help with Nadine and, for that matter, Darian, isn’t believable or emphasizing enough that she’s not mentally capable to help her daughter (perhaps because her husband suddenly died, but they fought a lot anyway and she’s pretty quick to try and become sexually involved with a man who turns out to be married, so I don’t feel it) and, at school, the lack of Mr. Bruner calling up a guidance counselor or even Mona after a barrage of troubling comments by Nadine is totally false (in 2016, a public school that, in a post-Columbine world, is likely trained to spot the signs of psychological issues, would not just ignore Nadine’s obvious issues).

How this so-called realistic look at modern teenage angst thought it was OK to try and bury the clear evidence that its lead is psychologically disturbed is beyond me, as is the fact that it’s justifying and glorifying Nadine’s behavior every step of the way without holding her accountable for what she does.  It would be one thing if this film had at least introduced the possibility of mental illness (outside of a token line about her taking anti-depressants and the ending that sweeps even a hint of emotional honesty about Nadine’s mindset under the rug completely), because when mental issues are involved in relation to bad behavior, there has to be a balance between what can be said for the person to have be held responsible for doing and when the illness is talking.  But even then, we’d still need to have a rooting interest in Nadine and believable development of her to make her earn my sympathy and understand for her struggles, which we do not get.  I’m sorry, but as portrayed here in Steinfeld’s pushy performance and with this ignorant and self-conscious script, she’s an unctuous, unpleasant, unfunny (just like the film, by the way) and selfish person who brings everyone around her down to her level of depression and self-hatred if she doesn’t get what she wants and someone who I sided against every time a character in the movie correctly tells her something along the lines of “you’re wrong; get over it.”

Flat out, this movie doesn’t play fair with its lead character and the obvious realities about her and the real-world she’s living in, which sinks the entire thing, despite a few positives in the few scenes between Nadine and Erwin, as well as the lack of high school teenage movie clichés, particularly from Blake Jenner, quite good in the surprisingly not stereotypically jockish sports star role of Darian.  Writer/director Kelly Fremon Craig publicly said this film is intended as a John Hughes tribute with a more modern spin on it, which only proves how phony, ugly and both comedically and dramatically deficient this film is, as Hughes often looked deeply at the psychological angles of his young characters, while contrasting the different worldviews of youths and adults and showing how they can meet in the middle (Jennifer Grey’s similar character in Ferris Buller’s Day Off comes to mind).  Also, going back to that animated film I mentioned that’s a lot like this, perhaps Craig should have paid attention to Hiromasa Yonebayashi's When Marine Was There, which was also about a mentally troubled and depressed teen girl with family tragedies and had Hallie Steinfeld voicing the lead and giving a better and more believable performance, and you should see that one over this overrated and insulting junk.

 Hail, Caesar

The 1950s Hollywood golden age throwback movie is a sub-genre that’s really been languishing in a sorry state over the past year with such pathetic recent excuses for reliving that era such as Trumbo, Café Society and… well, another film I’ll be roasting at the end of this 11-20 list.  Sadly, the usually reliable and interesting Coen brothers, Joel and Ethan, only kept that trend going this year with their contribution, Hail, Caesar, a movie that was generally well-liked, but to me, was a really dull, empty, inexplicable and, honestly, kind of masturbatory exercise in Hollywood style and star power that I kept hoping would get me invested or click with me regarding its meaning and purpose, but it never did.  

The movie is a heavily fictionalized look at 1950s Hollywood studio fixer Eddie Mannix (Josh Brolin), who works in this film for Capitol Pictures, a studio all about uplifting and high-class cinematic entertainment.  Two of the biggest films being currently filmed on the lot are Hail, Caesar, a biblical epic similar to Ben Hur and starring the studio’s biggest contract star, Baird Whitlock (George Clooney), and Merrily We Dance, a Broadway play translation starring and marking a stylistic change for Western star Hobie Doyle (Alden Ehrenreich), much to the chagrin of its director, Laurence Laurentz (Ralph Fiennes).  Both films run into troubles, the latter due to problems with Hobie’s performance and the former because Baird has been kidnapped by a group of former screenwriters turned communists called The Future, who attempt to recruit Baird to help them and later, send a ransom demand to Eddie.  Elsewhere, DeeAnna Moran (Scarlett Johansson) is revealed to be pregnant out of wedlock, threatening the image of the studio and two twin columnists, Thora Thacker and Thessaly Thacker (both played by Tilda Swinton), come calling to Eddie for different reasons, all of which add the multitude of situations that Eddie needs to handle, while also dealing with his own issues with his home life and his sense of personal failings that sends him to confession at his Catholic church to a degree that even the priest says is far too often.  In between, we also get some side-stories (if some of them even qualify for “stories”) with Burt Gurney (Channing Tatum), an actor in a musical about romance-seeking sailors on a brief shore leave, C.C. Calhoun (Frances McDormand), the editor of Merrily We Dance, Arne Seslum (Christopher Lambert), the director with a connection to DeeAnna, Carlotta Valdez (Veronica Osorio), an actress that Hobie is set up with to manipulate his image and Joe Silverman (Jonah Hill), a notary worker who works on the side to help Eddie fix his specific problems.

There’s a lot going on in this movie and, if I had to guess, I think this is intended to be similar to Robert Altman’s 1992 masterpiece, The Player, which was also a comedy/satire about the assorted happenings at a Hollywood studio with one major character surrounding a group of sideline vignettes and other characters.  To be honest, though, I’m not sure if I’m reading the point of this film correctly, but even if I am, it’s nowhere near as interesting or funny as The Player was and I found it so boring that I found myself having to fight really hard to stay awake while watching it, and I was totally awake when it began. Also, though I understand that there’s the overarching plot following Eddie, I didn’t feel that he was connected nearly enough to everything and I felt as if the movie was just bouncing from one scene and/or movie set to another without much cohesion and without enough intriguing narrative material, social commentary or entertainment value to make me feel like anything important was happening.  It’s kind of surprising that I felt that way, given how many massive talents make up the case of this film, but with the exception of newcomer Alden Ehrenreich as the Gene Autry-esque Hobie, I thought all the other actors were either wasted (people like Jonah Hill and Frances McDormand only get one scene), just merely OK (Clooney and even Brolin) or mannered to the point of extreme irritation (I’m thinking of Ralph Fiennes, in particular, as Laurentz, whose line reciting scene with Hobie is aggravatingly repetitive and may forever have me recoil if I ever hear the phrase "would that it were so simple" again in my life).

Having said that, the production design of this film is pretty impressive, as it gives a great sense of time and place to 1951 Hollywood, with great replication of the aura of movie studios of the time and the related camera angles, visual filters, film set accouterments.  Also, I do like the idea of seeing the creative process behind Hollywood studio film genres that were popular at the time, including expensive epics, westerns, musicals and fantasies with Busby Berkeley-style choreographed women in and out of water, and there are a couple of pretty funny scenes that pointed towards a better film, particularly the premiere of Lazy Ol’ Moon, a Western comedy about a drunken cowboy having slapstick accidents and blaming all his troubles in life on the full moon on display at night and an early scene when Eddie meets with a rabbi, a Protestant rector, a Catholic priest, and an Eastern Orthodox minister about the depiction of Jesus Christ in Hail, Caesar (the film within the film, of course), with the hopes to earn widespread religious support for the movie while balancing between all four religions’ different views of Jesus.  Outside of those scenes, though, the rest of the movie drags, even at just over 100 minutes and there’s not enough punchiness to the script and the performers to make enough of the scenes work even nearly as well as those two highlights. Not to mention, as I said, I feel as if this is a film that everyone but me seems to understand the point of, and it’s not interesting enough to be entertained as I try to figure it out or to make me intrigued enough so that I even want to understand it, which is something that the Coens often do quite well, especially in the case of their great Inside Llewyn Davis (a film that, honestly, you can apply some of the same criticisms towards that I’m making on this one, but they fit that film’s narrative and characters much better so that it wasn’t a problem to me there).  Maybe if this film went all the way at trying to be a style throwback (ala The Artist), was a series of unrelated vignettes (like Paris, Je T'aime, a collection of short subjects that the Coens contributed to) or just tinkered the script and direction to better emphasize its surrounding elements and players in relation to Eddie, I would have liked it more and gotten into it, but as it is, it’s probably the weakest film of the Coens so far (even more than The Ladykillers remake to me) and a waste of time, talent and money in my eyes.

 Hello, My Name Is Doris

Every year, we get one or two low-budget independent comedy/drama hybrids that are led by an older and legendary actress and, in the worse cases of them, they seem like they’re specifically designed to attract older and/or less discerning viewers who wish they'd see said elder actress in more modern movies under the notion of “hey, I love ”insert famous actress’s name here” and I’ve missed not seeing her in anything recently, so this is certainly going to be great and I can’t possibly miss it!”  Reading that, you may think I’m making an awfully mean and elitist statement that’s suggesting that I think such audience members are stupid and can’t discern the quality of a movie when it has a performer in it that they love, but in actuality, I’m saying that the movie thinks that, as does its creators and especially big Hollywood studios who pick up junky films like Hello, My Name Is Doris from a small film festivals (in this case, South By Southwest) and then, put it out for its target demographic to be suckered into seeing without showing any respect for their taste or intelligence (not to mention giving Hollywood an excuse to pretend that they're not disgustingly ageist regarding older actresses, even though they totally are).  

Then again, I was also suckered in by this, because I love Sally Field and, after seeing her be the best part of the awful The Amazing Spider-Man 2, I was open to having her lead a new film, but not a tone-deaf, tonally schizophrenic, noncritical and insulting one like this.  Field stars as Doris, a 60-something Staten Island data entry worker with a hoarding problem and a recently dead mother that she looked after for years.  On her return to work after her mother’s death, she meets the company’s new and personable art director, John (played by New Girl’s Max Greenfield), who she becomes quickly smitten with and, after combination of an “I’m possible” mantra of a motivational speaker (Peter Gallagher) and some assistance from her lifelong friend, Roz (Tyne Daly) and Roz’s technologically savvy granddaughter, Doris tries to go after him romantically, despite her age.  Meanwhile, Doris’s brother is getting on her case for her hoarding and insistence to continue living in their mother’s house and, despite gaining more social acceptance than she expected in her pursuit of John, there are details about him that complicate things.  

What I can say in favor of this movie is that Sally Field is doing what she can in the lead role and, for a few scenes, the film is approaching its intended mix of authentic human interaction and semi-broad comedy, particularly from the byplay between Doris and Roz (where Field and Tyne Daly are quite good and have believable chemistry as these lifelong friends) and Doris and the granddaughter and also, in a few scenes that acknowledge and attempt to subvert some of the tropes of stories like this.  Too bad, then, that the script by Michael Showalter (who also directed this) is mostly free of laughs and insight while being mostly full of ugly condescension and hypocrisy, particularly regarding Doris.  Even though she’s supposed to the character we’re intended to feel for, the movie is mostly making fun of her, as it broadly draws her as a pitiable quiet and shy reclusive cat lady who can't let go emotionally or physically and makes her the butt of an endless parade of cheap and mean-spirited jokes about her age and personality... that is, until the inevitable and totally dishonest scene where she cries and opens herself up about her feelings about everything up to that point.  

This movie really wants to have it both ways about every part of it, to the point where, even with that poorly prepared for and preachy third-act pathos, not only do we not buy it on its own (especially since the film totally glosses over the guts of her related psychological issues and hoarding), but we also don’t feel for Doris because, as much as the movie seems to have it out for her, she herself commits a pretty unconscionable and unforgivable action against someone that destroys our sympathy for her (also, it’s completely unrealistic regarding its connection to Facebook, as that plot point is not how Facebook works). Even worse, the movie refuses to call Doris out on it and, without giving too much away, justifies it by abruptly changing into a feminist lecture by painting John as “an emotionally limited little boy,” which he admittingly is, but not for the reason the film is arguing.  Furthermore, there aren’t a whole lot of laughs here, the scenes with her becoming an unexpected fashion/music inspiration are pushy and needlessly vulgar in ways that don’t match the rest of the film and, by the movie’s unwillingness to commit to its more serious subjects in favor of quickly and unrealistically wrapping everything up to have a semi-happy ending, it’s really betraying and spitting in the face of its premise and its target audience, which deserve better than this.  The film, to be fair, isn’t total junk, but I think that’s worse here, since it had the chance to be something special and also, given how angry its rank cynicism made me (and still does as I now think back on it).  

 Independence Day: Resurgence

Remember Roland Emmerich’s Independence Day?  Well, if you don’t, it was a big-budget 1996 alien invasion/B science fiction movie that, for its time, was a gusty, unique and memorable exercise that, despite its higher focus on spectacle and mass destruction special effects than plot and character development, had a tangible energy, forward momentum and sense of urgency that still makes it a fun watch, along with giving us just enough investment in its appealing cast of characters to keep us involved.  Also, if you don’t remember that movie, rest assured that its debatably “long-awaited” sequel, Independence Day: Resurgence, will be reminding you of that 20-year-old hit every 3 or so minutes, to the point where you’ll wish you could smack the movie and tell it to shut up already.  Sadly, that obsession with the original film epitomizes everything that’s wrong with this rehashed and pathetic nostalgia-milking sequel, which is content with just hitting all the bulletpoints of its predecessor, but without adding anything new or doing anything old well, making it a waste of time and money that’s even more inexcusable in a summer that also gave us a great decade plus sequel in Finding Dory, which, unlike this, captured the qualities of its preceding film, while also expanding upon and even improving it.  

The plot takes place 20 years after the original movie and has the aliens that ravaged Earth coming back to unleash a massive superweapon.  For some reason, now ex-President Whitmore (Bill Pullman) knew they were coming back, but everyone else didn’t, so most of the characters look to him for assistance here, including many returning characters from the original like David Levinson (Jeff Goldblum), David’s father, Julius (Judd Hirsch), General Gray (the late Robert Loggia) and Dr. Brakish Okun (Brent Spiner). Will Smith’s Steve Hiller is dead now (because he signed onto Suicide Squad instead, and we all know how good a decision that turned out to be), but his wife Jasmine (Vivica A. Fox) is still around and now, their son Dylan (Jessie T. Usher) is grown up and is fighting against the aliens alongside President Whitmore’s now grown daughter, Patricia (Maika Monroe) and her fiancé, Jake (Liam Hemsworth).

So, it’s basically the same film as it was 20 years ago, but now, we get a “where are they now” perspective on some of the characters along with it and, to be fair, I do like that most of the cast is back (aside from Smith and, for that matter, Ross Bagley and Mae Whitman, who played Dylan and Patricia in the original, respectively; would it really have been that hard to get them back, too?), but they all just seem tired and uninteresting this time around, and their delivery of the plot exposition and the lighter moments are forced, awkward, desperate and lack the knowing verve that served the first one well (same goes for the new characters, who are mostly just a grab bag of dull stereotypes).  Also, the story lacks the urgency of the first film and stretches itself out too much with its incoherent subplots which, unlike the original, makes the lack of development of the aliens here impossible to ignore or forgive.

You might be thinking, “OK, the plot and characters aren’t great, but the action and destruction will pick up the slack, right?”  Wrong.  Although we do see places like Paris, China and London get annihilated, it lacks the weight, investment in the characters and the surprise that made similar scenes work so well in the original (like the “what about Boomer?” moment here, which was way better in 1996) and, though the special effects for them look OK, they’re all boring and feel like they’re trying to make lighting strike twice which, ironically, only reminds how better they were before and makes them even worse here.   I guess if you loved Independence Day and need to have more of it, this won’t hurt you too much, but that’s far from a ringing endorsement and honestly, why did we need this movie? Was it just to make a quick buck off of our nostalgia and so Emmerich could try and make us forget he made Stonewall? Based on the results, it seems like it, but thankfully, this tanked at the box office so, despite its insultingly presumptuous sequel-baiting, chances are good we won’t see an Independence Day 3 in 2036… or ever.  

 Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children

Tim Burton dodged a bullet by not directing Alice Through The Looking Glass, but that was nullified by him diving directly into the path of another bullet with the movie he did direct this year; Miss Peregrine’s Home For Peculiar Children. Let’s face facts, people; Burton may have undeniable style and talent and he may have made great films like Batman, Ed Wood and his last masterpiece, the nearly decade-old Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street, but he’s one of the most inconsistent filmmakers who still has a fandom (and, as Dark Shadows and Alice In Wonderland proved, that goodwill is clearly starting to run out) and, as great as his career highlights are, his increasing number of lowlights are often a special form of painful and inexplicable junk that are bad enough to nearly obscure his past successes.  Of the films I’ve seen of Burton’s, I’d be hard-pressed to think of one worse than this ugly, endless, empty, pathetic and incomprehensible disaster that’s both the most obvious sign that Burton’s hit rock bottom and the most unpleasant supposed family-fantasy film since last year’s disastrous Pan.

The movie is based on the Ransom Riggs novel about a Florida teenager named Jake (Asa Butterfield), an isolated recluse whose only true friend seems to be his grandfather Abe (Terrance Stamp), a World War II veteran who told him stories as a youth about a home in Wales for children with unique and societally peculiar traits.  Jake’s father, Franklin (Chris O’Dowd), didn’t like Abe that much doesn’t believe his stories, but Jake kind of does and is more convinced when Abe has his eyes ripped out and is killed by a white-eyed man named Barron (Samuel L. Jackson) that Abe claimed was going to eventually threaten the lives of the children at the home, as well as their shapeshifting and omniscient caretaker, Miss Peregrine (Eva Green).  After being given Abe’s old journal that specifies where Miss Peregrine and the house are located, Jake wants to go to Wales to find it, which his parents reluctantly agree to when Jake’s therapist suggests it could help his mental state after his grandfather’s death.  Franklin accompanies Jake, seeing it as a good opportunity to ditch his grieving son and do some birdwatching for himself (that’s grade A parenting right there), while Jake, against all odds, finds the house and meets both Peregrine and the strange children there, a girl who can control fire, a boy whose body is basically an active beehive, a boy with the power of invisibility, a girl with a carnivorous mouth on the back of her head and, most notably, Emma (Ella Purnell), an air-bender light enough to float away if she doesn’t wear mental boots who remembers Abe and who is drawn to his young grandson.  Jake soon finds out that the house and its inhabitants live in a time loop that keeps repeating the same two days in 1943, as Miss Peregrine keeps turning back the clock just before the house is about to get bombed by German planes, but he also finds out that the warnings of Abe about Barron were true, as Barron and his cronies are seeking the children because their eyeballs help give them immortality when they eat them. As such, Jake leads the children in a battle against Barron to protect them and allow the children to control their use of the time loops to allow them and, by extension, Jake, to have a safe future.

You’d think a story like that would be a slam dunk with Burton at the helm, since it’s packing many of the themes and subject matter that we often associate with his work, including strange/socially ostracized characters with otherworldly abilities, social commentary against bad parenting and the idealized idea of what life in suburbia should be like, and macabre subject matter and imagery with a genesis in German expressionism.  In fact, for that reason alone, I know some defenders of this movie have considered this a “return to form” with echoes of Beetlejuice and especially Edward Scissorhands. However, outside of a few of the supporting performances (Terrance Stamp and Allison Janney) and the film’s technically sound and time period appropriate production design (the latter of which doesn’t really count as a positive, since Burton can do that in his sleep), there’s none of the bizarre intrigue, resonance or joy that we’d expect to get out of a film like this and it all feels so aggressively repellent and uninteresting.  The plot, despite my synopsis, is mostly insultingly incomprehensible babble that overexplains everything while somehow, never making anything about the time loops and twisted antagonists make sense, the characters of Miss Peregrine and the children generally have no personalities or development outside of their one defining trait, the bond between Jake and Emma is empty, poorly developed and awkward (especially their needless and contrived love story, which comes about from Emma transferring her feelings for the young version of Abe onto Jake), the father-son relationship between Jake and Franklin is unbelievable and, at times, rage-including (the horrible, yet one-dimensional and pushy character and Chris O’Dowd’s awful performance as Franklin adds to that) and there are plot holes everywhere.  

I guess the latter is to be expected in a time-travel fantasy movie, but even by its own logic, the time loop material raises big veracity questions, as does the fact that Miss Peregrine somehow is unable to know about specific threats against her and the children, even though Jake and the audience are told by the children that “she knows everything,” even before they happen.  In addition, there’s some really lame and horribly out-of-place stabs at humor (including the beat-boxing punks that’s as much of a tonal whiplash as the licensed songs from Pan), the acting is flat by most everyone involved and the darker elements of the story don’t add anything meaningful to it and come off as just gross and boundary-pushing for the sake of being gross and boundary-pushing, especially the stuff with the eyeball eating, which I had enough of seeing happen once in The Neon Demon this year, let alone multiple times here, and in a movie intended for families, no less (yeah, this being a “family film” is a real joke). If you’re a Burton fan/apologist, you may still want to check this one out, but I don’t think you’ll like it and, for everyone else, watch any of Burton’s good films instead.  Actually, just see any of his other movies, because they’re all better than this, and yes, that does include his now second worst film, Mars Attacks.

 Money Monster

Three months before Hell Or High Water came out and gave us a great drama about the current American economic malaise and the way it can drive people to crime, we had director Jodie Foster’s stab at a similar idea with Money Monster.  I was curious about this one, given big names like George Clooney, Julia Roberts, Giancarlo Esposito and Dominic West in the cast and especially since Foster's past films behind the camera showed her ability to dive into the guts of real-world issues and come out with pretty impressive complexity, clarity and understanding about them, my favorite being her deeply underrated 2011 look at psychological and mental issues in a family and marriage, The Beaver.  Unfortunately, this is just a dull, simplistic, ridiculous, pedantic and slanted political lecture about “income inequality” and how it hurts lower class citizens, but, at best, it’s not smart or interesting enough about it to entertain, help us empathize with and psychologically explore the complexities and situations of said people’s frustrations or change any minds, and at worst, its significant failures and illogical elements unintentionally reveal the significant and fatal fallacies of that entire concept.

George Clooney stars as Lee Gates, the host of the top-rated cable TV financial show, Money Monster, which has him delivering flashy and easily presentable, yet apparently economically in-depth and credible analysis/advice regarding the stock market, company financial patterns and good stock buys (if you’ve ever seen CNBC’s Mad Money, hosted by Jim Cramer, this is basically the exact same thing).  On today’s show, he’s planning to discuss the Ibis corporation, a company that he once called a safe buy, that has now seen its stock price plummet, resulting in the company and its shareholders losing $800 million. Lee is planning on interviewing the company’s CEO, Walt Camby (Dominic West), but he cancels on them, so Lee’s seemingly dedicated studio director, Patty Fenn (Julia Roberts), quickly books Diane Lester (Caitriona Balfe), Ibis’s newest CCO.  After the show starts, a strange delivery boy walks onto the stage, pulls a gun on Lee and forces him to put on a bomb vest that the man will detonate live on national TV if Lee and the crew don’t follow his orders, which include them keeping the cameras rolling.  The man, a working-class millennial named Kyle Budwell (Jack O'Connell), claims that he’s doing this because he saw Lee’s tip about Ibis stock being a good buy, which ultimately resulted in Kyle’s entire life savings being wiped out.  When news of the hostage situation gets out, the police and SWAT team arrive, led by Marcus Powell (Giancarlo Esposito), to try and bring it to a non-lethal conclusion, while Lee follows Kyle’s demands as he and Patty try and think of a way to escape. Meanwhile, after news of the crisis and its connection to Ibis reaches Diane, she begins to dig deeper into what’s really going on in the company, including investigating the algorithms that were claimed to have caused the stock crashed like it did and trying to find and get answers out of Camby, who claims to be on a plane from Geneva and can’t be reached.

So, the movie is a hostage thriller where the social commentary is provided by Kyle, whose argument boils down to the usual lines about how the 1% on Wall Street and in big corporations are able to lazily get rich while screwing good and hard-working people like him who are still struggling to survive on the minimum wage they make.  The first issue with the film’s argument is that, in the world of this movie, the minimum wage that Kyle and others like him make is $14. That’s the same amount that, in the real world, it’s often argued that the minimum wage needs to be raised to in order to allow people like Kyle to have a decent living without having to suffer, but clearly, he still is struggling and he and the movie are still arguing that it’s not enough.  Second, even with Kyle’s plight, I never got enough of a sense that he’s really at the end of his rope or that I could understand his point of view or the desperation that led to him being ready to kill for economic satisfaction and compensation.  Part of this has to do with the script, which, with the exception of a scene where Kyle’s girlfriend, rightly, tells him off for his own bad choices and mismanagement with their money that also played a role in his downfall, blindly deifies Kyle with no pushback on his entitled, elitist and empty self-righteous platitudes (which are just as bad to me as the worst examples of the 1%ers he’s decrying), and the other part has to do with the Razzie-worthy performance by Jack O'Connell, with his embarrassingly mannered speech patterns and expressions (including that eternal gaping) that show him trying way too hard to be authentic, tragic and manic.  As such, I don’t care about Kyle, I don’t side with him and I see him as a black and white eternal victim who, with no gray areas to him here, is just using his stock loss as a scapegoat for his own personal failings.  

As far as Lee, Patty, and the TV crew, aside from the brief opening and some brief and quickly ditched asides about Patty potentially looking for another job, we don’t learn enough about them to get invested in seeing them live or die and, despite this top-flight cast, all of them, including leads Clooney and Roberts, are just OK and lack the crackle that I know they can bring and that director Foster is often good at helping to bring out.  Speaking of the direction, it’s pretty flat and lacks tension, while the action scenes aren’t gripping, the gaps in logic with the show being continually broadcast during the crisis and the attempts at police involvement are too large to ignore and, ultimately, don’t add anything to the story, the film’s portrayal of its Russian and Asian characters is kind of racist and hateful (I guess those are the two ethnic groups you’re still allowed to bigotedly stereotype without any consequence in the movies nowadays), the stabs at feminism with Diane and Patty are rushed through and too on-the-nose.

And then, there’s the tone of the film. It’s clearly supposed to be a mostly serious drama/thriller, but we also get this weird and out of place attempt at humor, which was a terrible miscalculation, as they clash badly with the rest of the film and aren’t funny, the worst of which has to be the sex scene (yeah, I was taken back by that, too) which is the most needless and gratuitous one in recent major movie history.  In the film’s slight defense, it’s not an unwatchable disaster and it is short enough, but given the talent of Foster as a filmmaker in the past, the cast and the great potential of looking at the American economic system with depth and intrigue, while wrapping it in a familiar movie narrative shell, this really should have turned out better than it did and, especially in a year that delivered the definitive example of that concept in Hell Or High Water, the failure of Money Monster is even more obvious and unacceptable.

 Rules Don’t Apply

This long-time passion project of co-writer/director/star Warren Beatty (who last directed a theatrical film with 1998’s Bulworth and last starred in a movie in 2001’s Town & Country) is a hybrid of a Howard Hughes dramatic biopic and a golden age Hollywood-style love triangle romantic comedy… and it’s also the only other 2016 movie aside from The Boss that I gave a 0 star review to. You’d think that would have guaranteed it a spot in to the worst 10 list, but it didn’t for three reasons; first, as horrible as this movie is (and it is), it didn’t anger me quite as much as the other 19 films I highlighted, second, I’ve actually already forgotten about it, despite seeing it less than a month ago, and third, this self-indulgent epitome of Hollywood legend narcissism and talent wasting has already publicly answered for its crimes against cinematic humanity by having the worst opening weekend of any major release in 2016 and becoming a well-deserved box-office flop.  So, yeah, I’m technically showing some mercy to this one, but it’s still such a uniquely uninteresting, terrible and kind of ugly film completely lacking in intrigue, involving story/characters, perspective and even halfway decent filmmaking that I need to deal with it.  

Beatty stars as Howard Hughes, the Hollywood billionaire circa 1958, when his eccentricities, obsession with barely-legal contract starlets and obsessive compulsive disorder were approaching the boiling point.  Enter Marla Mabrey (Lily Collins), a fictionalized religious young woman who comes to Hollywood to attempt to become a movie star under Hughes who is continually given the runaround, as is Hughes’ new limo driver, Frank Forbes (Alden Ehrenreich).  The two fall in love, breaking Hughes’ rule forbidding his contract actresses from dating his other employees, resulting in their strained relationship, especially after Hughes seduces Marla and forms a love-triangle that changes by the minute because of how psychologically messed up Hughes is.  I’ll give the movie this; the idea of taking a larger than life real-world figure like Howard Hughes and connecting his true story to those of fictitious characters isn’t bad and, with Beatty directing it and having such a star-studded cast, including supporting players like Annette Benning, Matthew Broderick, Ed Harris, Candice Bergen, Martin Sheen, Oliver Platt, Paul Sorvino, and Dabney Coleman, this sure sounded good on paper.  

Yet, by making a movie about Howard Hughes, Beatty is directly inviting a comparison with The Aviator, Martin Scorsese’s now seemly forgotten and underrated 2004 film also about Hughes that had the verve, investment and craft that’s completely missing here. True, this movie is telling a different story about Hughes than Scorsese did, but both Beatty the director and Beatty the actor fail to make it even halfway interesting, because the movie pathetically and repetitively keeps hammering us over the head with his crazy nature, while providing no attitude about him at all.  Basically, the film uses Hughes’ condition to justify its abrupt tonal shifts between its empty and surface human drama, its desperate, unfunny and, in terms of mining Hughes’ paranoia for laughs, cruel comedy and its supposedly whimsical moments that are embarrassing at best and, at worst, skin-crawlingly creepy (I’m sorry, but seeing the 27-year-old Lily Collins having sex with the now 79-year-old Beatty, while the movie has no perspective about it, just made me feel dirty). Regarding the fictional characters, Frank and Marla’s relationship totally lacks chemistry, passion or plausibility and their bonds to Hughes only mean that they constantly have the same shocked and/or disgusted reaction shots to him and his exploits, none of which are funny and none of which work as interesting or credible drama, especially when they still stand by Hughes when he completely goes off the deep end.

The film’s story and character development issues also aren’t helped by perhaps the year’s worst editing (scenes just randomly and abruptly stop before shifting to the next), the glacial pacing that makes the over 2 hour running time feel like an eternity, the overdone low-key lighting, the horrible plane CG/special effects, some pretty obvious discrepancies regarding the time period and the religious angle of Marla and her mother (they’re Baptist, but they say grace in one scene using "Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts, which we're about to receive from thy bounty," which is a Catholic prayer; oops) and the really flat performances from this totally wasted cast.   Seriously, there’s not one single redeemable aspect about this movie to even justify it as an eventual video rental or Netflix watch, so do what most everyone else did regarding it in theaters, completely ignore it, watch The Aviator and, then, forget this ever came out.

OK, we’re done with the worst of 2016.  Come back next time for the best!