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eventual-ghoste · 3 years

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TOG rambling

Hello! This post has to do with Andy and some revelations at the end of Force Multiplied. Spoilers I give aren’t super specific but they’re there, and I can’t promise they won’t bite.

This is also in response to a TOG discord question I couldn’t stop thinking about, regarding Andy’s history as compared to Nicky’s, as posited by Em | salzundhonig:

But Nicky's past as a crusader and his growth from his past was well received, surely that'll be the same with Andy right?

I apologize if these ramblings sound like a rant but I swear my intentions are in the spirit of debate/discourse, and they are not an attack on any individuals.

The TL;DR is: Andy has work to do. Hopefully Hollywood and Rucka don’t fuck that up.

Feel free to check/correct/call me out if I’ve misspoke anywhere here (I realize I still have a lot to learn) but IMHO, I don’t think a semblance of Andy’s growth will be well received. Or, at least, I’m not so certain it should be because, in the comics, I genuinely don’t think Andy has grown. At the end of Force Multiplied, she still defends her actions with the “this is how I grew up” argument, and says it was “a long time ago,” and as much as I love love LOVE Andromache the Scythian for her badassery and how she’s a vision of female empowerment, I can’t help but think about how I hear those words all the time from people defending themselves against racist and/or sexist comments from so-called bygone eras.

Wanna know a sad difference between those people and our beloved Andy? They apologize for what they’ve done, or who they were. As hollow as the words will sound, however unforgivable their actions, however self-serving the apology will be— Those Asshats apologize. Comic!Andy never does, not even when confronted by Nile, an African American woman who likely descends from slaves, and has undoubtedly experienced racism and discrimination on a regular basis. It’s been thousands of years and Andy doesn’t even know how to say sorry (if she ever does, kudos to whoever finds a timestamp/panel, and let me know!). Instead, Andy buries the truth of her actions with a load of justifications to the point that she becomes self-deprecating, calling herself “vermin,” concluding she’s no better than the apathetic, selfish, evil POS they hunt. She may have spent the past millennia with TOG, trying to make things right but then—

But then she gives up. She’s tired. She resigns because she doesn’t have it in her anymore to fight the injustice she once willingly and self-servingly participated in. So, on top of being incapable of apology, Andy also doesn’t vow to do better. She doesn’t accede to change.

If there is one reason for why “The Old Guard” is a fucking absolutely shitty title, is that it refers to people who refuse to accept new ideas and progress. We are in a fandom that has four canonically queer characters, three people of color, and two female leads! Maybe the irony is intentional but damn, why is it that Andy, PROTAGONIST #1, hasn’t completely caught up with the program?

And that brings me to why I think Andy’s reckoning will not be on the same level as Nicky’s. Because as popular as Kaysanova is, neither Nicky or Joe are the main protagonists of TOG.

We don’t follow Nicky or Joe (or Booker) into scenes. The men are strictly back-at-the-ranch, supporting characters. We follow Andy or Nile (who also have the most screen time, I believe, but fact-check me). Filmically speaking, we ought to value them with a measure of precedence. Their words and actions matter the most, especially Andy’s by nature of how everyone looks to her for guidance.

So, with all that in mind: How does one reconcile a beloved protagonist with a despicable past in slavery, of all things? In the wake of an international racial reckoning, how is a celebrated, white South African actress going to fulfill that role? How is production going to balance fantasy with reality? How are Rucka and other involved writers (Theron, Prince-Bythewood?) going to alter the original IP, while retaining the nuance of this moral quandry?

Forgive me for the overkill but: How is it going to happen?

I’m well aware that my thoughts are going down a rabbit hole, and I am definitely overthinking this, but as somebody who’s genuinely curious about whether Victoria Mahoney and the rest of the TOG crew will have the guts to confront the issue head-on, or if they’ll take the easy way out. Excise the bits that no one wants to talk about, much less watch in a feel-good film that TOG has become for many fans.

Whatever production ends up doing, I hope that 2O2G doesn’t end on a cliffhanging “pity Andromache” note because, damn, I’m gonna feel real uncomfortable scrolling through fandom posts, reading people defending slavery and giving the same “the past is a foreign country; they do things differently there” spiel, in order to protect a fictional character played by a conventionally-attractive cis heterosexual white woman.

(Also: If the past is so different from the present, why are there still calls for social justice? Why do ALL industries still lack diverse and equitable representation?)

Now, this is where I’ll go back to the original question and say: While I think Nicky functions well as an example for change/growth/redemption, I don’t think his change serves as a good comparison to Andy’s. I say this, even while I’m aware of double standards in gender, and even between the reception of gay characters vs lesbian characters vs etc. (re: I’m open to critique).

My line of thought stems from the fact that, canonically, Nicky always had Joe. The two have seemingly been inseparable from the moment they first killed each other. It’s likely that Joe would check Nicky whenever he said or did something wrong and offensive, and perhaps this symbiosis was mutual.

(I also have a feeling that many people easily disregarded the Christian/Muslim conflict because A) lack of knowledge in BOTH religions and B) the onscreen couple appear very much in love, especially when one is giving a beautiful monologue on the nature of their relationship. When we meet Joe and Nicky, we meet them at their best. Shout-out to interfaith couples who know more about this than my single (and secular) ass does, and might have more to say about this.)

On the other hand: Andy never had someone who was like how Joe was for Nicky. No one ever calls out Andy because A) she’s the oldest, B) she’s the lead, and C) her business card says ANDROMACHE OF SCYTHIA, WAR GOD. Yeah, she had Quynh/Noriko but— at the risk of yelling at Rucka for vilifying a queer woman of color (or praising him for not leaning on the stereotype of Asian passivity? idk, anyone got thoughts on this?)— Noriko is clearly not encouraging good behavior. Neither will Quynh if Netflix lets 2O2G be as faithful to the comics as TOG1 was.

Which means the Law 282 conversation might be…unavoidable? Somewhere along the line, we still end up in the hotel room with Andy, on the floor, pleading for her crew to not abandon her, even though she is the one who abandoned their cause.

This sets up a circumstance in which Fade Away might be spent trying to redeem Andy/Charlize Theron, bring her back to the “good side,” teaching her to be better— thereby highlighting her experience and “salvation,” rather than making a point of her past, and the reality of her actions. In other words, a “pity the white woman” fest.

(Because I’m crossing my fingers that TOG production/Netflix know better) In an effort to prevent that from happening, I wonder if Rucka will combine Force Multiplied with Fade Away for the 2O2G script. Given the series’ track record, I think it is feasible that FA’s release coincides with 2O2G’s, and that it finally resolves Andy. Whether by revitalizing her energy as a do-some-gooder, or finalizing her vulnerability by putting her 6,000 years to rest, thus handing off the reigns to Nile and a new generation of leadership.

The last thing I want to leave off with is: I don’t hate Andy. It’s a credit to Rucka and fellow writers (from film and fandom) that I don’t.

I might not love her character as enthusiastically as I used to, but that doesn’t mean I’m not amazed by her creation. She’s a female lead whose sexuality is not exploited by the male gaze; whose emotional vulnerability is not considered a hindrance to, nor an explanation for, her battle prowess; and whose unabashed queerness is not reinforced by cookie cutter stereotypes. Andromache the Scythian is AMAZING.

That doesn’t mean I’m going to excuse or ignore her most glaring and contemptible flaw. More than anything, I’d love to sweep her past under the carpet so that 2O2G can be problem-free. Like many people, I just want to enjoy a movie without getting triggered.

I want to see Quynh and Andy kiss and make up. I want to see Joe rocking Those Shorts, and a cheeky shot of Nicky appreciating his ass. I want to see Nile welcoming Booker back to the family again. Some form of group therapy would be chef’s kiss.

But something about glossing over/removing slavery from Andy’s narrative reeks of dishonesty, and reminds me that the (Hollywood) movie industry is full of people who do not want to be tainted with negative perceptions. Understandably, appearances are their livelihood— but that particular truth is something they still have to reckon with.

#the old guard #tog #vi rambles

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tros-for-dinner · 4 years

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Frankly, every time I see gifs of the tros Reylo kiss it feels like JJ is reaching through my computer screen and personally slapping me in the face, for two reasons.

1. TLJ is a movie I adore. The number one thing that I love about it is the emotional intimacy between Kylo (Ben) and Rey. That is the thing I love about that movie, and everything else I like about the movie branches out from that. To trade all of that vulnerability and trust and intimacy for boring lightsaber fights, a “”””kiss of gratitude””””, and him pointlessly giving up his life is disappointing and frustrating beyond words.

2. The reylo kiss in tros is absolutely, unequivocally fanservice of the most disingenuous kind. All of tros is baldfaced, poorly-executed fanservice and nostalgia-baiting and this is no different. For nearly everything in the movie, it feels like the filmmakers were like, “ooh, we have this segment of the audience and we need their money - we’ll give them something they like!” so they inserted a reylo kiss (with pretty much no romantic buildup in the movie itself, in a movie that is an unabashed retcon, by the way), but then they looked at what they’d made and said, “hmm, we have to kill him because We Don’t Support Nazis(tm), Bad Guys Must Die(tm), and Rey Is A Strong Independent Woman Who Don’t Need No Man(tm).” Like, yeah, they kissed - but at what cost? They’re a Dyad In The Force - for what? All that potential totally went to waste. For him to die and be unmourned, the kiss is a slap in the face.

I guess what I’m angriest about is: it feels like the filmmakers put the kiss into the movie to get reylos’ money then said, “be grateful we validated you!” and I’m just over here like, “f*ck you, I don’t have to be grateful for anything, much less you slapping me in the face.”

#tros roast #this is such a stupid thing to be angry about but *checks watch* 8 months later i'm still pissed #i wish people tagged it so i could block those tags #i'm not going to be grateful for a slap in the face #other people can enjoy it all they want #i just don't care about it and it pisses me off #if that makes me an anti i guess thats just the way the cookie crumbles #eff this i'm gonna go read fanfiction #ok look i know that people celebrate the reylo kiss because it validates reylo #i get it #but the way it turned out was very disappointing and frustrating #you can't change my mind

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tibbinswrites · 4 years

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For the prompt list, I'm gonna go with destiel, numbers #9 and/or #20 💙 and congrats on the followers!

Hiii! Thank you! And thanks so much for your request. I’ve already done #9 so I’ve done #20 for you.

I really struggled with this one, not gonna lie. I had a plan for it but I’m not super sure I managed to balance both sides of the argument and come up with a satisfying solution. Let me know what you think! All concrit is welcome.

I’ve now done prompts for: #1, #2, #4 and #16, #9, #10, #20, #33, #77, #78, #170 and #502 and I’ve got two still left to do. I’m not accepting any more at this time.

Also, if you wanna check out a fantabulous destiel anthology I’ve had the privilege to write for, our indegogo page is live here

Enjoy ^_^

20. Rules

There were rules to sharing Dean’s bed, Cas had found. Many of them. The main one, of course, was ‘Don’t tell Sam.” Followed by the next rule, ‘Don’t tell anyone’, which Cas argued made the first rule moot, seeing as Sam was part of ‘anyone’ and so didn’t need a separate rule. In fact, most of the rules Dean hurled at him were about keeping what they were doing secret, make sure he wasn’t seen sneaking into or out of Dean’s room at night, no touch lasting longer than two seconds outside of the bedroom, stay quiet unless they were alone in the bunker.

Cas didn’t like these rules, but he respected them. He kept his distance, didn’t touch Dean when he wanted to, didn’t brush their hands together when they walked side-by-side or hold him while they watched movies with Sam and Jack; he didn’t slide his arms around Dean’s waist while he stood at the stove, pressing in close, dropping kisses along the line of his neck. He wanted to do those things, wanted to stare unabashed and happy at how beautiful Dean looked in the early-morning light, wanted to lace their fingers together in line at the supermarket, wanted to hear all the glorious sounds Dean bit back while they made love.

He understood Dean’s reservations, and yet he didn’t. He didn’t resent the rules, and yet he did. Being with Dean was wonderful. Beneath the covers they would talk through their anxieties, their hopes for the future, they would always be touching, they smiled, they joked, they kissed. They discovered every inch of each other and Castiel at least fell more in love with each new piece of revealed information. But if he ever brought up the idea of telling Sam or Jack, Dean instantly clammed up and rolled away, all easy smiles vanished.

“I’m not ready,” was all he said. And really, it was all that he needed to say. Cas knew that he couldn’t force it. Dean being ready was important and Castiel vowed to wait.

But sometimes the waiting was very difficult. He didn’t want to hide his love like it was something shameful, it hurt every time he did. It hurt every time Dean acted like it was something shameful. He tried not to think about the implications, that maybe it was the fact that it was Cas that Dean was ashamed of, rather than any internal hangups about his own sexuality. It wasn’t true, he was almost certain, but there was enough room for doubt that it was a constant battle not to let it take hold.

After all, Dean had raised Sam, how could he have any doubt that he would be anything other than fully supportive of Dean’s happiness? Unless he was just pretending at happy, of course.

As the weeks passed he felt himself growing smaller. That niggling concern that perhaps he didn’t mean as much to Dean as Dean did to him kept niggling, and all his arguments for the contrary weren’t strong enough to hold up. Outside the sanctuary of his room, Dean was no different; they still fought, still talked, still went hunting together, except that Dean didn’t seek out Castiel’s company anymore, instead waiting in his room for Cas to go to him. And any affectionate touches or looks were now reserved until they were behind closed doors. The first few weeks this has been exciting, it had been something to look forward to, to sequester himself in Dean’s room where he would be met with open arms and comfort. But that meant after a disturbing hunt, or a close call while they were still in the field, or a worrying piece of news, even if it affected Dean deeply, he would pull away from Cas’ touch as though it were something dirty, avoid his eyes like Dean had used to avoid his eyes, back before Dean trusted him with his vulnerability. Holding eye contact too long was against the rules after all.

He held Dean close most nights, writhing beneath him, panting his name, pressing sweet words into his skin, or with an arm slung over Cas’ chest while he slept, Cas’ fingers threading through his hair, and yet he had never felt so far away.

Eventually, around six months after the rules had been laid out, Cas realised that he couldn’t go on like this. Perhaps he had been idealistic in what a physical relationship entailed but if this was it then Cas wasn’t sure he wanted it anymore. He missed knowing that Dean would be at his back when needed, he missed feeling secure in his place with the Winchesters, he missed being able to sit comfortably in a room with his family and not be on edge about whether he was staring too long or sitting too close, or stating an opinion that would lead to a hushed argument cutting into the only time they had to be honest. Seeing Dean naked was nice, bringing him pleasure was a worship of which he would never tire, but compared to the bond they used to share, the one that wasn’t contained within four walls and a list of rules, where the passion and trust and care between them was solid and certain, it paled to barely a watermark.

If Dean had been truly happy with how things were then Castiel might have been able to bear it, but as it was, Cas had to say something.

“Dean,” Cas said one evening, gently pushing Dean away from where he was kissing his way down Castiel’s throat. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” Dean asked, barely listening as he tried to get back in close. When Cas didn’t yield though, he sat back with a frown. “What?”

Cas shifted himself to a seated position and stared at his knees. “I want to go back to not sleeping together.”

Dean just blinked at him for a few moments before he said anything. “Oh,” was all he came out with, followed by a much smaller, “how come?”

“Because I understand that you want to keep this secret,” Cas said, his throat closing around the words. He swallowed. “But I don’t, and it’s not fair to try and force that from you, so there needs to stop being a secret.”

“You’re kidding me?” Dean said, irritation flaring in his voice. “This is because I won’t tell Sam.” He scoffed loudly and got off the bed, bending to find the shirt he had tossed aside mere moments before.

“We spend more time hiding our relationship than having one,” Cas fired back, already hating how this was going. “And you know, you know that Sam won’t give a crap about your sexuality so the only factor that you have to be ashamed of is me.”

“Oh, yeah, you really got me sussed, huh?” Dean snarked, yanking the shirt down over his head as though preparing to leave, as if this wasn’t his own room. “Like you won’t leave the second that this thing becomes real.”

That struck deep. “It wasn’t…?” Cas began, the question mark hanging there like the rope that life was supposed to be. Then he cleared his throat and stood too, gathering his own clothes and pulling them on, all without looking at Dean. He would not let Dean see how much that had hurt him. “I understand. It was never real for you. That’s why it’s been so easy for you to separate. That makes sense.” The anger hit him then and he spun violently around, his eyes beginning to sting. “If you had just told me that that’s what this was I could have saved us both the trouble! I’m sick of being used, Dean. Ever since I was created I’ve been somebody’s tool. I thought it was different with you, I thought—” He squeezed his eyes shut. No, of course. Dean never loved him. Cared for him perhaps, as a friend, and wanted to explore his sexuality in a safe environment with someone convenient. That’s all this was.

“If you think I’m indulging this pity-party, you’re wrong,” Dean snapped. “You knew what you were getting into, I was upfront. It’s been six months and not a word that this isn’t working for you but all of a sudden it’s so bad that you wanna cut and run!?”

“You said you weren’t ready,” Cas reminded him. “Was I supposed to pressure you?”

“You weren’t supposed to pretend!” Dean shouted. Then he winced and lowered his voice to a hiss. “That’s how relationships work. You talk about the things going wrong so you can fix them.”

“And how do we fix this, Dean? Because I can’t contain my love for you in this room and you can’t love me anywhere else. What are we supposed to do?”

Dean hesitated at that, then he said, slowly, like he was replaying Cas’ words, “You think I don’t love you?”

“I think that our friendship has suffered since we started having sex,” Cas said bluntly. He had to be blunt or the sorrow caused by that fact would overwhelm him. “We practically avoid each other unless it involves a hunt in order to abide by your rules. I didn’t realise that the price of a relationship would be to sacrifice everything the relationship was built on. Turns out that’s not a price I’m willing to pay, you’re too important to me.”

“Yeah, I feel real important right now.” Dean snapped. He folded his arms and turned away, and Cas knew he’d hit a nerve.

“Dean—” Cas reached out to touch him on the shoulder but Dean shrugged him off. He sighed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted.”

“What? Happy?” Dean shot back, his voice thick with emotion. “Yeah, me too.”

He felt a pang in his chest at that.

“I love you, Dean. No matter what we call our relationship, that will always be true.”

“Whatever.”

Taking that as a firm dismissal, Cas turned to leave.

“Cas, wait.”

He stopped, his hand on the doorknob.

“I’m not scared about what Sam would think about be being with you, not really.”

Cas turned back around. Dean’s back was still to him; his shoulders were hunched over, curled in on himself. Cas longed to stride forward, gather him up and place a kiss to each of his freckles.

“Then what are you scared of?”

Dean faced him then, his eyes open and terrified. “This. You taking off again. If I told Sam then I couldn’t ever take it back. And if something happens, and they know… it’ll just make everything so much worse.” He scoffed, a wet, sad sound. “Besides, if he saw how gone I am on you… he’ll start trying to get to me to retire, to take you and just get out and make a happy, apple pie life of our own. I can’t leave him, and I’m not ready to stop hunting.”

“I’d never ask you to,” Cas said gently, a little confused.

“I know. But honestly? I’m kinda terrified of how easy it would be.” He smiled then, a soft, wistful thing. “I’ve actually been thinking about it, making plans for what comes after.” He made a self-deprecating sound “Like I get that lucky. Like I haven’t known since I was five years old that there is no after for me. I’ll die a hunter. At the end of a spell or a blade or a set of claws, that’s how I’ve always wanted it, that’s what always felt right.”

“And now?”

“Now… as long as you’re there with me, I don’t really care so much how it ends.” Dean’s eyes were on his, and they mirrored the longing that Cas himself felt, the magnetic pull that drew him in. “That’s what scares me, Cas. If I tell Sam, it’ll change the way I look at my life, I’ll start wanting something more than what my dad planned, what I was so sure was the only path I had.”

“Dean,” Cas said, reaching for him, and Dean came easily. “Since when have you ever followed a plan set out for you that wasn’t your own?”

xxx

The next morning, Dean dropped a kiss to Cas’ hair at the breakfast table, right in front of Sam, who did nothing more than roll his eyes and mutter something that sounded suspiciously like, “Finally.”

#supernatural #prompts #prompt #spn fanfic #Destiel #relationships #argument #writing #fanfiction #TibbinsWrites

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fandom-collective-writers · 5 years

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Endgame

Pairing: Nobunaga x Reader

Genre: Modern AU

Rating: Fluff and Smut

Word count: 1720

Written by @rikumorimachisgirl for Anonymous

A/N: Not the Marvel movie. 😁

The score was 94-92 in favor of the Echigo Samurais. With three more minutes left in the fourth quarter, you press on the Azuchi Warlords assistant coach Mitsunari to call a timeout. Echigo has played a running game throughout and led by as much as ten points in the dying seconds of the first half of the game, but Shigen Takeda openly blowing a kiss at you seemed to have ignited something in the Warlords, as your boyfriend and team captain Nobunaga Oda led the team, powering through the second half.

You hurriedly handed out towels and sports drinks to the players, who were more than happy to receive them. All, except your boyfriend, who showed no interest in joining the team as they huddled around Mitsunari. A sudden power fluctuation caused the electronic boards to reset, giving each team extra time to rest and strategize, but he didn't move from his spot. He was a sight to behold - his eyes fixed on the scoreboard, his expression unreadable. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of girls cheering.

"We love you, Nobunaga!"

You winced at the unabashed declarations of his fans seated on the right side of the court but kept your gaze at him. To your surprise, he gave them a sideline glance and winked, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his wristband.

The fans screamed like harpies, as you sighed, dejected. Normally, he wouldn't pay them as much attention as he just did but given your latest argument and the fact that the man in question wasn't backing down, you knew your boyfriend wasn't about to give you any preferential treatment.

"Are you two still fighting?"

You almost jumped at the sound of a voice speaking quite near you.

"Ieyasu?"

Standing next to you, the small guard cocked an eyebrow at you, annoyed. "What are you being all jumpy for?"

"How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to hear you sigh, " he replied, toweling off his sweat-drenched blond hair. "You must be daft if you think I'm going to take instructions from Mitsunari."

"He's the assistant coach for a reason, you know."

"Yeah because our head coach opted to play team captain today instead of watching from the sidelines, " Ieyasu said curtly, shifting his gaze to Nobunaga. "So, why haven't you made up yet? You're making our lives a living hell."

You knew how difficult the team's lives have been since that fateful day when Shigen Takeda - of all people - saved you from nearly being mugged by a group of thugs on your way back to your apartment from a quick trip to the grocery. Of course, no sooner than he had beaten up the perpetrators, pictures of the two of you together circulated throughout social media. It only took less than an hour before your own boyfriend saw the picture himself, and of course, the picture he had to see was that of you flashing a gorgeous smile at Shigen to thank him for saving you.

"He really has been giving us a tough time, you know. I couldn't feel my legs last night after practice."

"Well, I would talk to him but he hasn't been responding to my messages nor answering my calls, " you whined. "He hasn't even come home since that evening. Is he staying at Mitsuhide's?"

"You think Hideyoshi would allow that? You better make up with him immediately so that Mitsunari can use his room again. He's been staying with me for two nights now, I might murder him if he stays another night."

The referee whistled to call the players back, and you watched Ieyasu walk back to the court with the rest of the team. You caught sight of Nobunaga making his way back as well, and without thinking, you quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"I have a game to play -"

"I'm sorry, Nobunaga, " you said, cutting him off mid-sentence, as your vision started to blur. "There really wasn't anything else that happened. You're the only one for me."

He sighed, and broke free from your grip, only to capture your hand in his. "We'll talk later. Right now, I have a game to win. Don't worry, it'll be over soon, " he said, smiling as he wiped a stray tear from cheek before running to his post. From the corner of your eye, you could see Ieyasu rolling his eyes, and Masamune giving you a thumbs up. Your heart soared, knowing that your boyfriend will do everything he can to keep his promise.

The game ended at 95-94. The entire stadium erupted in cheers as the Azuchi Warlords won the championships once again, three years in a row. Hordes of fans and reporters gathered around the team to take pictures and interviews, as you watched from the sidelines with a huge smile on your face. One by one, the Warlords took their leave to go to the locker room and change. All except your boyfriend, who was still with the press alongside Mitsunari. By the time they'd finished with the interviews, most of the players had emerged from the locker room, looking refreshed and ready to party.

"We're all going to The Castle to celebrate, " Masamune Date, the team's small forward, and resident playboy told you as he stepped beside you to watch Nobunaga thank the reporters and fans for their support. "I suppose it's safe to say you won't be there later…"

"Please, Masamune, it was your idea to leave these two to party on their own, " Ieyasu said, sounding bored while watching your face turn red. "Just make sure you don't make a mess like you did the last time."

"The last time?" Your eyes widened like saucers. "We've never done anything nasty in the locker room, I'll have you know!"

"Actually, that was me, " Mitsuhide Akechi, the team's center, chimed in sheepishly. "What? The team manager of the Anegawa Daimyos was asking for it, clearly. Anyway, we're leaving. This is all up to you now. Don't forget to lock the door."

You blushed harder, waving them off before you made your way to the lockers where your boyfriend now was.

"Nobunaga? I'm coming in, " you called before stepping into the locker room. Except for the sound of water running from the shower area where your boyfriend was, the room was incredibly quiet. Slowly, you made your way towards the shower room, stopping by the entrance as Nobunaga's perfect physique, which the glass door did very little to hide. His arms braced the wall, as the stream of warm water cascaded down his back, his tight bum and his long legs.

As if caught in a trance, you decide just then to give him a celebration he won't forget. You stripped off your clothes, careful not to make any noise while you do. After you'd folded and set them aside, you hurry to the shower room before you lose your nerve.

The sound of the glass door sliding made him tense, and he immediately glanced behind him.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to decide to join you since you were taking your sweet time, " you responded quietly.

Your retort made him smirk, and you found yourself pinned against the tiles as he molded your lips with his. It was quite a sensation - the cool surface of the shower tiles on your back and the heat of his body pressed against yours almost made you melt.

"You were waiting?" He asked in between kisses.

"You said earlier that we'll talk - oh…, " you gasped as he pushed his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours.

"Yes, I said we were going to talk, " he said, catching his breath before capturing your mouth with his once again. "You've been a naughty girl, socializing with our rivals."

"I have not, " you said, panting while pulling him in for another kiss.

"Playing the role of damsel in distress, " he continued, as he trailed kisses down your neck. "Trying to get me jealous."

Your eyes flew wide at his admission. "Jealous? You?"

"And this surprises you?"

"Yes, " you replied, pushing against him hard enough against the wall. The warm water from the shower only made your body feel hotter, as you trailed kisses from his chest down to the tight muscles of his stomach, and finally dropping to your knees as you held the girth of his cock, and gazed up at him. "I'm surprised you're jealous especially because you should know by now that I crave only you."

You flicked the tip of his cock with your tongue, tasting his precum that leaked out of his hardened member. Your eyes never leaving him, you lapped up and down his length slowly again and again until he groaned. Cupping your cheeks with his hands, he shoved his cock into your mouth, reaching all the way to the back of your throat. "That's it, baby. Suck me harder, " he said, his breathing ragged. You placed your hands on his hips for support and he tightened his hold on your hair as he fucked your mouth.

After a while, he pulled you to your feet and backed you up against the wall once more. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he entered you with one swift motion and drowned your moan with a kiss.

You clawed at his back and kissed him desperately. He was rougher than usual, but that didn't seem to bother you. You were so close to orgasm as pleasure coursed through you as he pounded into you relentlessly. You missed this - you missed him - and you knew you weren't going to last.

"Nobunaga!" You cried out as you flew into orgasm, and he followed shortly after, grunting loudly as he came. As soon as you both came down from your high, he carefully set you back on your feet but didn't stop holding you close.

"I missed you, " you murmured against his chest.

"I missed you too, " he said, as he tucked your hair behind your ear. "And I'm sorry. It was foolish of me to act like I did."

"I'm glad you agree. I won't ever leave you, you know."

He smirked. "I know, baby, " he said. "Because you and me, we're endgame."

The end.

#ikemen sengoku fanfic #ikemen sengoku #ikesen fanfic #ikesen nobunaga #nobunaga x reader

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neoduskcomics · 5 years

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Ranking All 10 Star Wars Movies

The final installment in the Skywalker Saga (as it is now retroactively being christened) is upon us, and so I’ve decided to do a bit of a retrospective on all the films leading us here.

The purpose of this personal ranking is not to put down any particular films or to invalidate anyone else’s opinions. In fact, I will be focusing largely on what I like about each movie, rather than what I think was wrong with it. I’ll still touch on criticisms of each film, but know that even if I don’t think they’re all objectively amazing films, I still like every single one of them, and have watched each one numerous times.

The fandom, as it always has been, is so weighed down with hatred and lashing out and segregation, that it overshadows the unabashed joy and love that many still hold for that galaxy far, far away. And so, I’d like to put that anger away for a second, and just talk about why each of these movies holds a special place in the Star Wars saga.

10. The Phantom Menace

Chronologically the first film in the series, and also the first on this list. I saw this movie when I was pretty little, and I have to say, it’s the first Star Wars film I ever saw that I actually enjoyed. When I was a kid, I never cared for the original trilogy. Those movies bored and, to be honest, kind of frightened me. But Phantom Menace was replete with colorful visuals, whacky humor and loads of CGI action. That appealed to me quite a lot.

Yes, in retrospect, the plot is contrived, the characters are incredibly bland and pacing is all over the place, but it was my gateway drug into the magic that the rest of the franchise had to offer. And I’m gonna say it -- Jar Jar Binks was probably half the reason the movie kept my attention for as long as it did. All the other characters were so stuffy and stoic, and all they talked about was an overly complicated plot of political intrigue; Jar Jar added some much needed humor and levity for my childhood self to stay interested. It’s heavily flawed for sure, but I can’t rag on this movie too much when I have it to thank for the love that I have for the series now. Besides, Darth Maul kicks ass, right?

9. Attack of the Clones

Is it controversial to rank this above The Phantom Menace? My reasoning is twofold: 1) The movie has an actual emotional throughline to follow, that of Anakin being frustrated with his feelings of fear, resentment and love; and 2) There’s a lot more action. The Phantom Menace was my first step into the shallow side of the Star Wars pool, but this movie is what got me to dive in headfirst.

Is the dialogue embarrassingly terrible? Yes. Is it 75% CGI fluff? Yes. And as a kid, I ate all that stuff up. Plus, honestly, the movie’s not all bad. People started liking Ewan McGregor as Obi-Wan with this movie, as the charming, dry-humored, slightly exasperated mentor. We got a load of lightsaber fights, and chases through cityscapes and asteroid fields. There was a ton to think was cool about this movie. Sure, it’s still messy and awkward, and it’s loaded to the brim with outbursts of teenage angst, but this is the film that really got me to think lightsabers, starships and bounty hunters were just the most awesome things ever. You can bet I had a few specific items on my Christmas list that year.

8. Solo

I saw Solo a second time this year, and on a re-watch, I actually enjoyed it quite a lot more. It’s fun and frantically paced, there’s loads of Star Wars fanservice, and the lead actor actually does a pretty good impersonation of a young Han Solo. The supporting cast is pretty likable, too, and the dialogue is always snappy. The action sequences were exciting, and while the movie does go out of its way to try to answer every single question about Han-related trivia, I still think it’s fun to see how things unfolded.

Sure, the movie is pretty hollow when it comes to its themes. Han doesn’t get a very solid character arc in the movie, and we definitely don’t see a very cohesive transformation from relatively altruistic kid to completely self-centered nerf-herder -- and that’s a real shame. But honestly, as a Star Wars side story and blockbuster action film, I think it’s a pretty solid couple hours of entertainment. If you shrugged this movie off when it came out or weren’t impressed and haven’t seen it since, I say maybe give it another chance. You might still not like it, which is totally fair, but maybe tempered expectations and a slightly more lenient attitude will allow you to enjoy it a bit more this time around.

7. Rogue One

Now, as much as I enjoyed Solo as a relatively shallow but fun Star Wars action movie, it is not my favorite Star Wars movie of that brand. That honor goes solely to Rogue One. This movie is pure Star Wars fan service. You got X-wings, TIE fighters, stormtroopers, AT-STs, AT-ATs, star destroyers, new ships and infantry armor, and let’s not forget Darth Vader. That scene with him at the end of the film is one of my all-time favorite scenes in any Star Wars movie. I got chills watching that sequence. It was everything I’d ever wanted from a Darth Vader cameo.

Now, Rogue One might be almost nothing but action and fanservice -- most of the main cast of characters is not terribly interesting or memorable -- but that’s okay. This is a lot of people’s new favorite Star Wars movie, and I don’t think it’s hard to see why. It’s basically everything fans loved most about the prequels -- the spectacle, the new worlds, the new weapons, the new soldiers, while still trying to keep true to the spirit of the franchise, and making nods to its roots. The characters can be bland, and some of the fights drag on a bit, but it’s still a thrilling ride. Also, K-2SO is probably the funniest character in any Star Wars film.

6. The Last Jedi

This movie has some of the greatest, most powerful moments in the entire franchise. Rey’s relationship with Kylo Ren and their confrontations with Luke were an incredible emotional foundation to the story. Many of the visuals were dazzling, and not all but many of the jokes landed pretty well. Luke was provided with a realistic and interesting character arc that gave room for actual growth and depth and struggle -- not simply making him another wise old Jedi Master with a padawan who turned to the dark.

This movie took a lot of risks, and not all of them panned out for sure. I disagree with a lot of the narrative choices in this film, especially when it comes to how Kylo Ren and Rey’s relationship ends up by the end of the movie, and what they did with Poe and Finn. However, I cannot understate how great I think other elements of the story were. This is the movie that made me actually start to feel like Rey was a more fleshed-out character, and it made Kylo Ren my new favorite character in the sequel trilogy (also I really like the fight with the praetorian guards, which I guess is a controversial opinion?). While the movie is deeply flawed, it also has a lot in it that is deeply good, and that is definitely worth something.

5. Return of the Jedi

It was very close for me between this movie and The Last Jedi, but I settled on placing episode 6 higher because, to me, it just presents a more elegant narrative with a more cathartic resolution. Return of the Jedi gives us a strong and satisfying conclusion to Luke’s story, and is probably full of more heart and love than any other installment in the series, showcasing bonds between Han and Leia, Leia and Luke, and a reforged bond between Luke and his father. The team is reunited, and it feels so good.

That being said, the movie does have its share of flaws, many of which are in common with The Last Jedi. A lot of the movie feels like needless padding and sort of wasted screentime for the main characters, aside from Luke, who didn’t get much of a meaningful role in the story. However, I feel that it’s counterbalanced by the fact that this film also has some of the most powerful drama in the series. Luke’s confrontation of Vader and the Emperor is wonderfully tense and exciting, and it comes to a stirring conclusion. Plus, Han, Leia, Chewie, C-3PO and R2-D2 are all still their lovable selves, bantering away and getting in way over their heads. It’s kind of hard to not find the film charming. All in all, a great way to wrap up an iconic trilogy.

4. Revenge of the Sith

I remember when this film came out, some critics even went so far as to say it was “better than the original trilogy.” While that’s certainly up for the fans to debate, I do think this movie demonstrated a sense of clarity that was lacking in either of the other prequels. It’s a story all about one thing -- Anakin wants to stop his wife from dying a certain death, and will do whatever it takes to make that happen. The resulting story is filled with incredibly potent pain, fear, anxiety, suffering and darkness, as Anakin fights and eventually gives into temptation.

Okay, yeah, the dialogue is still mostly terrible, and the acting can still feel forced and awkward, but I think if you’re able to look past that, you’ll see what it easily the strongest narrative in the prequel trilogy. It also has a lot of things that the other two prequels were missing: humor (the entire beginning sequence is a fun and largely comical ride not found in the other prequels), memorably dramatic scenes (“Did you ever hear of the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?”) and the wickedly over-the-top Emperor finally taking the spotlight with his cackling and pontificating. It may not be the most gracefully crafted movie in the series, but it does have one of the most powerful stories to tell, and I think that’s what ultimately shines through.

3. The Force Awakens

I love this movie. The action, the effects, the characters, the humor -- it is a cavalcade of blockbuster science-fantasy wonder. Abrams did an outstanding job retooling the original trilogy to suit a modern audience, with new, creative takes on the faceless, nameless stormtrooper, a Darth Vader stand-in who knows he’s a stand-in and hates it, and a burgeoning hero doesn’t run toward adventure but away from it. There is an energy, a sort of vitality, to this film that I don’t think you can find in any other installment in the series. It’s dazzling, powerful and full of spirit.

And yes, it has its own fair share of flaws. The political situation is weirdly under-explained, the movie heavily relies on the original films as a template for the plot’s structure, and Rey could’ve used more coherent development as the protagonist of the film. However, I wholly and heartily believe that the movie more than makes up for all of that with its unique and charming cast of original characters. I loved Poe Dameron, Kylo Ren, Finn, and the returning Han and Chewie in this story. They all did wonderful performances with snappy dialogue, great performances and thrilling fights. It would’ve been great if the studio had tried to stray from the norm more, sure, but The Force Awakens, in my eyes, is still an exhilarating, warm and entrancing entryway into the territory of a new era for the franchise.

2. A New Hope

This one was tough to place. If I’m being completely honest, I think I probably actually like The Force Awakens more as a film, but it just doesn’t sit right with me to not give priority to the original. And I think credit should be given where credit is due: this movie, for better or worse, revolutionized cinema. It’s the movie that started it all, defying all odds and expectations. It’s the ideal archetype of the hero’s journey; a boy from humble beginnings meets with an old mentor who shows him a much bigger, brighter, and scarier world that he must face for the good of the world he lives in. Along the way, we meet some of the most iconic and memorable characters in the history of film -- Han Solo, Princess Leia, C-3PO, R2-D2 and the ever-lovable Darth Vader.

Now, has this movie been overly mythologized? Yes. Has it in many respects aged poorly? Sure. It totally has. The dialogue can be goofy, the action can look hokey and the pacing can feel terribly slow. But a lot of people will throw statements around like “It’s only famous because it was the first” when looking at movies like the original Star Wars, or the characters contained within. But I think that line of reasoning is misguided. Cheesy sci-fi features, space operas, action movies, roguish characters, princesses and humble heroes were not invented by Star Wars or George Lucas, just as people with superhuman abilities were not pioneered by the creators of Superman. And yet, this movie stood out in all of moviemaking history, proving that it had accomplished what no film like it had before. It is not a beloved film simply because it was the first. It’s the first because it was beloved.

Honorable Mention: The Clone Wars

Not the movie, the series (because the movie was basically just the pilot to the series that honestly shouldn’t have been shown in theaters). It doesn’t technically qualify for this list, but I just have to mention it (honorably). This series took a look at the prequels, for all their flaws, and said “I can make people like this era of Star Wars.” And you know what? They succeeded. The versions of Obi-Wan, Anakin and the many clone troopers featured in this series are now often the versions people think of when remembering the Clone Wars era of the saga. It was a rollercoaster of a series, with surprisingly dark and dramatic stories, as well as shockingly good action and visuals.

Sure, there were a lot of subpar episodes, but those aren’t what people remember. People remember a version of Anakin that made him a likeable hero, a new Jedi padawan for the audience to identify with, new stories that deepened and expanded upon the lore of the universe, and some really cool warfare that honestly blows a lot of what we saw in the actual prequel films out of the water. If you haven’t seen it yet, get a free trial of Disney + and start binging.

1. The Empire Strikes Back

Okay, okay, yeah, we all saw this coming. Not exactly an original opinion, is it? Still, I can’t deny that I solidly believe The Empire Strikes Back to be the best-made Star Wars film. It may not have the razzle-dazzle of the prequels or the sequels, and it may not have the satisfactory finality of Revenge of the Sith or Return of the Jedi. But what this film does have is care. It’s a movie that feels like it was carefully crafted from top to bottom, with every scene, every narrative throughline, every theme and every line of dialogue.

This is where we got “Do, or do not. There is no try.” This is where we got “I am your father.” This is where we got “I love you/I know.” This is where Vader really cemented himself as the end-all-be-all big bad of the Star Wars galaxy. This is where Han and Leia became the cinematic couple of a lifetime. This is where we really learned about the Force, the Jedi and what sorts of trials Luke would have to face were he to take on that legacy. It’s a magical film, full of wonder, hope, darkness, tragedy and love.

I won’t say it’s a perfect Star Wars movie, because it’s not. No Star Wars movie is. But that’s the beauty of the franchise. Everyone values something different about Star Wars. Everyone has their own favorite movie or series or book or comic or even theme park ride. It’s a phenomenon that spans generations, each one looking back fondly on the era that came before. There were people who grew up on the original trilogy, and now we have people who grew up on the prequels. And in just a few short decades, we’ll have people who grew up with BB-8, Kylo Ren and Rey, and that, to me, is just fantastic.

I know many of you have already written off Star Wars, or at least the new movies, but I am both nervous and excited to see where this all goes in seven days. And I know that there are many of you out there still celebrating Star Wars, holding it dear to your hearts, and not forgetting the feeling it gave you whenever you first fell in love with the franchise. I hope that feeling stays with us, and that it cuts through all the hatred and shouting and derision.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to watch today’s episode of The Mandalorian.

#star wars #ranking

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usehd-love · 4 years

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Four fathers are dealing with the difficulty of parenthood.

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THE STORY After graduating from Harvard, Bryan Stevenson (Michael B. Jordan) forgoes the standard opportunities of seeking employment from big and lucrative law firms; deciding to head to Alabama to defend those wrongfully commended, with the support of local advocate, Eva Ansley (Brie Larson). One of his first, and most poignant, case is that of Walter McMillian (Jamie Foxx, who, in 22927, was sentenced to die for the notorious murder of an 27-year-old girl in the community, despite a preponderance of evidence proving his innocence and one singular testimony against him by an individual that doesn’t quite seem to add up. Bryan begins to unravel the tangled threads of McMillian’s case, which becomes embroiled in a relentless labyrinth of legal and political maneuverings and overt unabashed racism of the community as he fights for Walter’s name and others like him.

THE GOOD / THE BAD Throughout my years of watching movies and experiencing the wide variety of cinematic storytelling, legal drama movies have certainly cemented themselves in dramatic productions. As I stated above, some have better longevity of being remembered, but most showcase plenty of heated courtroom battles of lawyers defending their clients and unmasking the truth behind the claims (be it wrongfully incarcerated, discovering who did it, or uncovering the shady dealings behind large corporations. Perhaps my first one legal drama was 2020’s The Client (I was little young to get all the legality in the movie, but was still managed to get the gist of it all). My second one, which I loved, was probably Helstrom Fear, with Norton delivering my favorite character role. Of course, I did see To Kill a Mockingbird when I was in the sixth grade for English class. Definitely quite a powerful film. And, of course, let’s not forget Philadelphia and want it meant / stand for. Plus, Hanks and Washington were great in the film. All in all, while not the most popular genre out there, legal drama films still provide a plethora of dramatic storytelling to capture the attention of moviegoers of truth and lies within a dubious justice. Just Mercy is the latest legal crime drama feature and the whole purpose of this movie review. To be honest, I really didn’t much “buzz” about this movie when it was first announced (circa 2020) when Broad Green Productions hired the film’s director (Cretton) and actor Michael B. Jordan in the lead role. It was then eventually bought by Warner Bros (the films rights) when Broad Green Productions went Bankrupt. So, I really didn’t hear much about the film until I saw the movie trailer for Just Mercy, which did prove to be quite an interesting tale. Sure, it sort of looked like the generic “legal drama” yarn (judging from the trailer alone), but I was intrigued by it, especially with the film starring Jordan as well as actor Jamie Foxx. I did repeatedly keep on seeing the trailer for the film every time I went to my local movie theater (usually attached to any movie I was seeing with a PG rating and above). So, suffice to say, that Just Mercy’s trailer preview sort of kept me invested and waiting me to see it. Thus, I finally got the chance to see the feature a couple of days ago and I’m ready to share my thoughts on the film. And what are they? Well, good ones….to say the least. While the movie does struggle within the standard framework of similar projects, Just Mercy is a solid legal drama that has plenty of fine cinematic nuances and great performances from its leads. It’s not the “be all to end all” of legal drama endeavors, but its still manages to be more of the favorable motion pictures of these projects. Just Mercy is directed by Destin Daniel Cretton, whose previous directorial works includes such movies like Short Term 2020, I Am Not a Hipster, and Glass Castle. Given his past projects (consisting of shorts, documentaries, and a few theatrical motion pictures), Cretton makes Just Mercy is most ambitious endeavor, with the director getting the chance to flex his directorial muscles on a legal drama film, which (like I said above) can manage to evoke plenty of human emotions within its undertaking. Thankfully, Cretton is up to the task and never feels overwhelmed with the movie; approaching (and shaping) the film with respect and a touch of sincerity by speaking to the humanity within its characters, especially within lead characters of Stevenson and McMillian. Of course, legal dramas usually do (be the accused / defendant and his attorney) shine their cinematic lens on these respective characters, so it’s nothing original. However, Cretton does make for a compelling drama within the feature; speaking to some great character drama within its two main lead characters; staging plenty of moments of these twos individuals that ultimately work, including some of the heated courtroom sequences. Like other recent movies (i.e. Brian Banks and The Hate U Give), Cretton makes Just Mercy have an underlining thematical message of racism and corruption that continues to play a part in the US….to this day (incredibly sad, but true). So, of course, the correlation and overall relatively between the movie’s narrative and today’s world is quite crystal-clear right from the get-go, but Cretton never gets overzealous / preachy within its context; allowing the feature to present the subject matter in a timely manner and doesn’t feel like unnecessary or intentionally a “sign of the times” motif. Additionally, the movie also highlights the frustration (almost harsh) injustice of the underprivileged face on a regular basis (most notable those looking to overturn their cases on death row due to negligence and wrongfully accused). Naturally, as somewhat expected (yet still palpable), Just Mercy is a movie about seeking the truth and uncovering corruption in the face of a broken system and ignorant prejudice, with Cretton never shying away from some of the ugly truths that Stevenson faced during the film’s story. Plus, as a side-note, it’s quite admirable for what Bryan Stevenson (the real-life individual) did for his career, with him as well as others that have supported him (and the Equal Justice Initiative) over the years and how he fought for and freed many wrongfully incarcerated individuals that our justice system has failed (again, the poignancy behind the film’s themes / message). It’s great to see humanity being shined and showcased to seek the rights of the wronged and to dispel a flawed system. Thus, whether you like the movie or not, you simply can not deny that truly meaningful job that Bryan Stevenson is doing, which Cretton helps demonstrate in Just Mercy. From the bottom of my heart…. thank you, Mr. Stevenson. In terms of presentation, Just Mercy is a solidly made feature film. Granted, the film probably won’t be remembered for its visual background and theatrical setting nuances or even nominated in various award categories (for presentation / visual appearance), but the film certainly looks pleasing to the eye, with the attention of background aspects appropriate to the movie’s story. Thus, all the usual areas that I mention in this section (i.e. production design, set decorations, costumes, and cinematography) are all good and meet the industry standard for legal drama motion pictures. That being said, the film’s score, which was done by Joel P. West, is quite good and deliver some emotionally drama pieces in a subtle way that harmonizes with many of the feature’s scenes. There are a few problems that I noticed with Just Mercy that, while not completely derailing, just seem to hold the feature back from reaching its full creative cinematic potential. Let’s start with the most prevalent point of criticism (the one that many will criticize about), which is the overall conventional storytelling of the movie. What do I mean? Well, despite the strong case that the film delves into a “based on a true story” aspect and into some pretty wholesome emotional drama, the movie is still structed into a way that it makes it feel vaguely formulaic to the touch. That’s not to say that Just Mercy is a generic tale to be told as the film’s narrative is still quite engaging (with some great acting), but the story being told follows quite a predictable path from start to finish. Granted, I never really read Stevenson’s memoir nor read anything about McMillian’s case, but then I still could easily figure out how the movie was presumably gonna end…. even if the there were narrative problems / setbacks along the way. Basically, if you’ve seeing any legal drama endeavor out there, you’ll get that same formulaic touch with this movie. I kind of wanted see something a little bit different from the film’s structure, but the movie just ends up following the standard narrative beats (and progressions) of the genre. That being said, I still think that this movie is definitely probably one of the better legal dramas out there. This also applies to the film’s script, which was penned by Cretton and Andrew Lanham, which does give plenty of solid entertainment narrative pieces throughout, but lacks the finesse of breaking the mold of the standard legal drama. There are also a couple parts of the movie’s script handling where you can tell that what was true and what fictional. Of course, this is somewhat a customary point of criticism with cinematic tales taking a certain “poetic license” when adapting a “based on a true story” narrative, so it’s not super heavily critical point with me as I expect this to happen. However, there were a few times I could certainly tell what actually happen and what was a tad bit fabricated for the movie. Plus, they were certain parts of the narrative that could’ve easily fleshed out, including what Morrison’s parents felt (and actually show them) during this whole process. Again, not a big deal-breaker, but it did take me out of the movie a few times. Lastly, the film’s script also focuses its light on a supporting character in the movie and, while this made with well-intention to flesh out the character, the camera spotlight on this character sort of goes off on a slight tangent during the feature’s second act. Basically, this storyline could’ve been removed from Just Mercy and still achieve the same palpability in the emotional department. It’s almost like the movie needed to chew up some runtime and the writers to decided to fill up the time with this side-story. Again, it’s good, but a bit slightly unnecessary. What does help overlook (and elevate) some of these criticisms is the film’s cast, which are really good and definitely helps bring these various characters to life in a theatrical /dramatic way. Leading the charge in Just Mercy is actor Michael B. Jordan, who plays the film’s central protagonist role of Bryan Stevenson. Known for his roles in Creed, Fruitvale Station, and Black Panther, Jordan has certain prove himself to be quite a capable actor, with the actor rising to stardom over the past few years. This is most apparent in this movie, with Jordan making a strong characteristically portrayal as Bryan; showcasing plenty of underlining determination and compelling humanity in his character as he (as Bryan Stevenson) fights for the injustice of those who’s voices have been silenced or dismissed because of the circumstances. It’s definitely a strong character built and Jordan seems quite capable to task in creating a well-acted on-screen performance of Bryan. Behind Jordan is actor Jamie Foxx, who plays the other main lead in the role, Walter McMillian. Foxx, known for his roles in Baby Driver, Django Unchained, and Ray, has certainly been recognized as a talented actor, with plenty of credible roles under his belt. His participation in Just Mercy is another well-acted performance that deserve much praise as its getting (even receiving an Oscar nod for it), with Foxx portraying Walter with enough remorseful grit and humility that makes the character quite compelling to watch. Plus, seeing him and Jordan together in a scene is quite palpable and a joy to watch. The last of the three marquee main leads of the movie is the character of Eva Ansley, the director of operations for EJI (i.e. Stevenson’s right-handed employee / business partner), who is played by actress Brie Larson. Up against the characters of Stevenson and McMillian, Ansley is the weaker of the three main lead; presented as supporting player in the movie, which is perfectly fine as the characters gets the job done (sort of speak) throughout the film’s narrative. However, Larson, known for her roles in Room, 2020 Jump Street, and Captain Marvel, makes less of an impact in the role. Her acting is fine and everything works in her portrayal of Eva, but nothing really stands in her performance (again, considering Jordan and Foxx’s performances) and really could’ve been played by another actress and achieved the same goal. The rest of the cast, including actor Tim Blake Nelson (The Incredible Hulk and O Brother, Where Art Thou) as incarcerated inmate Ralph Meyers, actor Rafe Spall (Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom and The Big Short) as legal attorney Tommy Champan, actress Karan Kendrick (The Hate U Give and Family) as Minnie McMillan, Walter’s wife, actor C.J. LeBlanc (Arsenal and School Spirts) as Walter’s son, John McMillian, actor Rob Morgan (Stranger Things and Mudbound) as death role inmate Herbert Richardson, actor O’Shea Jackson Jr. (Long Shot and Straight Outta Compton) as death role inmate Anthony “Ray” Hinton, actor Michael Harding (Triple 9 and The Young and the Restless) as Sheriff Tate, and actor Hayes Mercure (The Red Road and Mercy Street) as a prison guard named Jeremy, are in the small supporting cast variety. Of course, some have bigger roles than others, but all of these players, which are all acted well, bolster the film’s story within the performances and involvement in Just Mercy’s narrative.

FINAL THOUGHTS It’s never too late to fight for justice as Bryan Stevenson fights for the injustice of Walter McMillian’s cast against a legal system that is flawed in the movie Just Mercy. Director Destin Daniel Cretton’s latest film takes a stance on a poignant case; demonstrating the injustice of one (and by extension those wrongfully incarcerated) and wrapping it up in a compelling cinematic story. While the movie does struggle within its standard structure framework (a sort of usual problem with “based on a true story” narrations) as well as some formulaic beats, the movie still manages to rise above those challenges (for the most part), especially thanks to Cretton’s direction (shaping and storytelling) and some great performances all around (most notable in Jordan and Foxx). Personally, I liked this movie. Sure, it definitely had its problem, but those didn’t distract me much from thoroughly enjoying this legal drama feature. Thus, my recommendation for the film is a solid “recommended”, especially those who liked the cast and poignant narratives of legality struggles and the injustice of a failed system / racism. In the end, while the movie isn’t the quintessential legal drama motion picture and doesn’t push the envelope in cinematic innovation, Just Mercy still is able to manage to be a compelling drama that’s powerful in its story, meaningful in its journey, and strong within its statement. Just like Bryan Stevenson says in the movie….” If we could look at ourselves closely…. we can change this world for the better”. Amen to that!

#tv series #tv show

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serienstreamhd · 4 years

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Austin City Limits Season 46 Episode 6 White Denim / Jackie Venson PBS

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nossbean · 4 years

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Rules: tag 9 people you want to know get to know better

I was tagged by @beesreadbooks - hee, i love this meme. Thank you for tagging me!

Top three ships:

Wee okay! Brienne x Jaime is the OTP of my heart atm ofc. I’ll otherwise choose two different ships than the last time I answered something like this:

Leslie Knope & Ben Wyatt from Parks & Rec. All their major moments ALWAYS make me cry.

Violet Waterfield x Sebastian Malheur from The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan. I f/cking love that book. Childhood friends to lovers! Victorian lady doing science! The Shit Women Face taken Seriously! Unabashed adoration all around! Embracing sexual desire later in life! There’s a bit of a JB vibe, actually, in that the man protag is a hot piece of ass and the woman protag who doesn’t fit cultural beauty standards; they’ve been bffs for years and they’ve both been pining and don’t think they’re good enough for the other person/that the other person could ever see them as anything other than a friend; bickering to show affection; showing affection to showing affection; unconditional support of one another... Anyway I could go on forever about this book generally and also that lightbulb moment re JB I just had (lol) but I’ll stop. It was the first romance novel I read since I dabbled with them as a kiddo, and it basically single-handedly pulled me into the genre and lives in my soul. I’ve got a key quote stuck on my wall -- “burn it all, sweetheart” -- and I love it forever. (shoutout to @theopensea for reccing it all those years ago)

Lipstick or chapstick: Chapstick! I am v keen to get more into lipstick though. I rarely wear makeup, and when I do I tend to lean more towards doing something with my eyes, but I also have a lot of fun with the few lipsticks I do have.

Last song: that recording of Backstreet Boys singing I Want it That Way!

Last movie: uhh... so I’ve been trying to think of this for a while and I can’t... remember? I’ll say next movie! Probably Miss Fisher & the Crypt of Tears, but poss a rewatch of Tomb Raider (2018)

Reading: I finished Redshirts by John Scalzi last night. I... can’t decide if I liked it... The premise was fun though. I did also recently finish the first two books of Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children series and very much enjoyed those! Fair warning that they are horror...? I’d say light horror, as I didn’t have to nope out though usually do when reading horror, but ymmv.

I also tend to read at least one short fic or chapter of a multi-chap fic each day. Currently, am keeping up to date with Deserted by gwen77 (WIP) which is so emotional and somehow also so quiet a fic, and am about to start They Make You Swear and Swear by @angelowl-fics. The two one-shots I’ve read in the last couple of days I’ve already recced on here (fic rec tag!) so will hype two others which I read this month: Let’s go our separate ways (But know that you’re flying home to me) by ImberReader which I thoroughly enjoyed which is a sci-fi take on JB including an overture which goes missed due to cultural misunderstanding, and Cruel Summer by theworldunseen which is an AU where Brienne and Jaime have summer jobs as lifeguards at a swanky country club (owned by Tywin, ofc): it’s v sexy and fun.

Three random things that make me happy:

Last summer I started up a wee garden on my balcony, and it is starting to come out of hibernation at last!

I’ve currently got a cat on my foot and that is always soothing and delightful.

Long baths at the perfect temperature with a LUSH bathbomb and a good podcast/playlist

Tagging: so I am a bit late to this party and I’m not sure who’s already played this one, so apologies if I’m double tapping you! But: @amuserobin @brienne @djeli-beybi @firesign23 @forbiddenfantasies1 @kulliare @wildlingoftarth aaaand anyone else who wants to play! consider yourself tagged <3

#play with me tag #ask meme

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senscritique2 · 4 years

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After Chapitre 2 film Complet | 2020 streaming Vf

Voir films ▷ After - Chapitre 2 en StrEaMinG - Film'VF

After — Chapitre 2 Overview Alors que Tessa et Hardin tentent de recoller les morceaux de leur relation, de nouveaux obstacles viennent se mettre en travers de leur histoire d’amour et de nouveaux secrets sont dévoilés. Mais tout ça n’est rien comparé à l’arrivée du beau Trevor dans la vie de Tessa, qui va s’attirer les foudres d’Hardin, conscient de la menace que ce nouveau prétendant représente. Nota bene : Suite du film After — Chapitre 1.

♠ After — Chapitre 2 F.u.l.l M.o.v.i.e

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♠ After — Chapitre 2 E.n.g.l.i.s.h S.u.b.t.i.t.l.e 2020

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♠PLAY:»» http://yess-movie.com/movie/613504/after-we-collided.html

THE STORY After graduating from Harvard, Bryan Stevenson (Michael B. Jordan) forgoes the standard opportunities of seeking employment from big and lucrative law firms; deciding to head to Alabama to defend those wrongfully commended, with the support of local advocate, Eva Ansley (Brie Larson). One of his first, and most poignant, case is that of Walter McMillian (Jamie Foxx, who, in 122, was sentenced to die for the notorious murder of an 2-year-old girl in the community, despite a preponderance of evidence proving his innocence and one singular testimony against him by an individual that doesn’t quite seem to add up. Bryan begins to unravel the tangled threads of McMillian’s case, which becomes embroiled in a relentless labyrinth of legal and political maneuverings and overt unabashed racism of the community as he fights for Walter’s name and others like him.

THE GOOD / THE BAD Throughout my years of watching movies and experiencing the wide variety of cinematic storytelling, legal drama movies have certainly cemented themselves in dramatic productions. As I stated above, some have better longevity of being remembered, but most showcase plenty of heated courtroom battles of lawyers defending their clients and unmasking the truth behind the claims (be it wrongfully incarcerated, discovering who did it, or uncovering the shady dealings behind large corporations. Perhaps my first one legal drama was 1224’s The Client (I was little young to get all the legality in the movie, but was still managed to get the gist of it all). My second one, which I loved, was probably Primal Fear, with Norton delivering my favorite character role. Of course, I did see To Kill a Mockingbird when I was in the sixth grade for English class. Definitely quite a powerful film. And, of course, let’s not forget Philadelphia and want it meant / stand for. Plus, Hanks and Washington were great in the film. All in all, while not the most popular genre out there, legal drama films still provide a plethora of dramatic storytelling to capture the attention of moviegoers of truth and lies within a dubious justice. Just Mercy is the latest legal crime drama feature and the whole purpose of this movie review. To be honest, I really didn’t much “buzz” about this movie when it was first announced (circa 2021) when Broad Green Productions hired the film’s director (Cretton) and actor Michael B. Jordan in the lead role. It was then eventually bought by Warner Bros (the films rights) when Broad Green Productions went Bankrupt. So, I really didn’t hear much about the film until I saw the movie trailer for Just Mercy, which did prove to be quite an interesting tale. Sure, it sort of looked like the generic “legal drama” yarn (judging from the trailer alone), but I was intrigued by it, especially with the film starring Jordan as well as actor Jamie Foxx. I did repeatedly keep on seeing the trailer for the film every time I went to my local movie theater (usually attached to any movie I was seeing with a PG rating and above). So, suffice to say, that Just Mercy’s trailer preview sort of kept me invested and waiting me to see it. Thus, I finally got the chance to see the feature a couple of days ago and I’m ready to share my thoughts on the film. And what are they? Well, good ones….to say the least. While the movie does struggle within the standard framework of similar projects, Just Mercy is a solid legal drama that has plenty of fine cinematic nuances and great performances from its leads. It’s not the “be all to end all” of legal drama endeavors, but its still manages to be more of the favorable motion pictures of these projects. Just Mercy is directed by Destin Daniel Cretton, whose previous directorial works includes such movies like Short Term 12, I Am Not a Hipster, and Glass Castle. Given his past projects (consisting of shorts, documentaries, and a few theatrical motion pictures), Cretton makes Just Mercy is most ambitious endeavor, with the director getting the chance to flex his directorial muscles on a legal drama film, which (like I said above) can manage to evoke plenty of human emotions within its undertaking. Thankfully, Cretton is up to the task and never feels overwhelmed with the movie; approaching (and shaping) the film with respect and a touch of sincerity by speaking to the humanity within its characters, especially within lead characters of Stevenson and McMillian. Of course, legal dramas usually do (be the accused / defendant and his attorney) shine their cinematic lens on these respective characters, so it’s nothing original. However, Cretton does make for a compelling drama within the feature; speaking to some great character drama within its two main lead characters; staging plenty of moments of these twos individuals that ultimately work, including some of the heated courtroom sequences. Like other recent movies (i.e. Brian Banks and The Hate U Give), Cretton makes Just Mercy have an underlining thematical message of racism and corruption that continues to play a part in the US….to this day (incredibly sad, but true). So, of course, the correlation and overall relatively between the movie’s narrative and today’s world is quite crystal-clear right from the get-go, but Cretton never gets overzealous / preachy within its context; allowing the feature to present the subject matter in a timely manner and doesn’t feel like unnecessary or intentionally a “sign of the times” motif. Additionally, the movie also highlights the frustration (almost harsh) injustice of the underprivileged face on a regular basis (most notable those looking to overturn their cases on death row due to negligence and wrongfully accused). Naturally, as somewhat expected (yet still palpable), Just Mercy is a movie about seeking the truth and uncovering corruption in the face of a broken system and ignorant prejudice, with Cretton never shying away from some of the ugly truths that Stevenson faced during the film’s story. Plus, as a side-note, it’s quite admirable for what Bryan Stevenson (the real-life individual) did for his career, with him as well as others that have supported him (and the Equal Justice Initiative) over the years and how he fought for and freed many wrongfully incarcerated individuals that our justice system has failed (again, the poignancy behind the film’s themes / message). It’s great to see humanity being shined and showcased to seek the rights of the wronged and to dispel a flawed system. Thus, whether you like the movie or not, you simply can not deny that truly meaningful job that Bryan Stevenson is doing, which Cretton helps demonstrate in Just Mercy. From the bottom of my heart…. thank you, Mr. Stevenson. In terms of presentation, Just Mercy is a solidly made feature film. Granted, the film probably won’t be remembered for its visual background and theatrical setting nuances or even nominated in various award categories (for presentation / visual appearance), but the film certainly looks pleasing to the eye, with the attention of background aspects appropriate to the movie’s story. Thus, all the usual areas that I mention in this section (i.e. production design, set decorations, costumes, and cinematography) are all good and meet the industry standard for legal drama motion pictures. That being said, the film’s score, which was done by Joel P. West, is quite good and deliver some emotionally drama pieces in a subtle way that harmonizes with many of the feature’s scenes. There are a few problems that I noticed with Just Mercy that, while not completely derailing, just seem to hold the feature back from reaching its full creative cinematic potential. Let’s start with the most prevalent point of criticism (the one that many will criticize about), which is the overall conventional storytelling of the movie. What do I mean? Well, despite the strong case that the film delves into a “based on a true story” aspect and into some pretty wholesome emotional drama, the movie is still structed into a way that it makes it feel vaguely formulaic to the touch. That’s not to say that Just Mercy is a generic tale to be told as the film’s narrative is still quite engaging (with some great acting), but the story being told follows quite a predictable path from start to finish. Granted, I never really read Stevenson’s memoir nor read anything about McMillian’s case, but then I still could easily figure out how the movie was presumably gonna end…. even if the there were narrative problems / setbacks along the way. Basically, if you’ve seeing any legal drama endeavor out there, you’ll get that same formulaic touch with this movie. I kind of wanted see something a little bit different from the film’s structure, but the movie just ends up following the standard narrative beats (and progressions) of the genre. That being said, I still think that this movie is definitely probably one of the better legal dramas out there. This also applies to the film’s script, which was penned by Cretton and Andrew Lanham, which does give plenty of solid entertainment narrative pieces throughout, but lacks the finesse of breaking the mold of the standard legal drama. There are also a couple parts of the movie’s script handling where you can tell that what was true and what fictional. Of course, this is somewhat a customary point of criticism with cinematic tales taking a certain “poetic license” when adapting a “based on a true story” narrative, so it’s not super heavily critical point with me as I expect this to happen. However, there were a few times I could certainly tell what actually happen and what was a tad bit fabricated for the movie. Plus, they were certain parts of the narrative that could’ve easily fleshed out, including what Morrison’s parents felt (and actually show them) during this whole process. Again, not a big deal-breaker, but it did take me out of the movie a few times. Lastly, the film’s script also focuses its light on a supporting character in the movie and, while this made with well-intention to flesh out the character, the camera spotlight on this character sort of goes off on a slight tangent during the feature’s second act. Basically, this storyline could’ve been removed from Just Mercy and still achieve the same palpability in the emotional department. It’s almost like the movie needed to chew up some runtime and the writers to decided to fill up the time with this side-story. Again, it’s good, but a bit slightly unnecessary. What does help overlook (and elevate) some of these criticisms is the film’s cast, which are really good and definitely helps bring these various characters to life in a theatrical /dramatic way. Leading the charge in Just Mercy is actor Michael B. Jordan, who plays the film’s central protagonist role of Bryan Stevenson. Known for his roles in Creed, Fruitvale Station, and Black Panther, Jordan has certain prove himself to be quite a capable actor, with the actor rising to stardom over the past few years. This is most apparent in this movie, with Jordan making a strong characteristically portrayal as Bryan; showcasing plenty of underlining determination and compelling humanity in his character as he (as Bryan Stevenson) fights for the injustice of those who’s voices have been silenced or dismissed because of the circumstances. It’s definitely a strong character built and Jordan seems quite capable to task in creating a well-acted on-screen performance of Bryan. Behind Jordan is actor Jamie Foxx, who plays the other main lead in the role, Walter McMillian. Foxx, known for his roles in Baby Driver, Django Unchained, and Ray, has certainly been recognized as a talented actor, with plenty of credible roles under his belt. His participation in Just Mercy is another well-acted performance that deserve much praise as its getting (even receiving an Oscar nod for it), with Foxx portraying Walter with enough remorseful grit and humility that makes the character quite compelling to watch. Plus, seeing him and Jordan together in a scene is quite palpable and a joy to watch. The last of the three marquee main leads of the movie is the character of Eva Ansley, the director of operations for EJI (i.e. Stevenson’s right-handed employee / business partner), who is played by actress Brie Larson. Up against the characters of Stevenson and McMillian, Ansley is the weaker of the three main lead; presented as supporting player in the movie, which is perfectly fine as the characters gets the job done (sort of speak) throughout the film’s narrative. However, Larson, known for her roles in Room, 21 Jump Street, and Captain Marvel, makes less of an impact in the role. Her acting is fine and everything works in her portrayal of Eva, but nothing really stands in her performance (again, considering Jordan and Foxx’s performances) and really could’ve been played by another actress and achieved the same goal. The rest of the cast, including actor Tim Blake Nelson (The Incredible Hulk and O Brother, Where Art Thou) as incarcerated inmate Ralph Meyers, actor Rafe Spall (Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom and The Big Short) as legal attorney Tommy Champan, actress Karan Kendrick (The Hate U Give and Family) as Minnie McMillan, Walter’s wife, actor C.J. LeBlanc (Arsenal and School Spirts) as Walter’s son, John McMillian, actor Rob Morgan (Stranger Things and Mudbound) as death role inmate Herbert Richardson, actor O’Shea Jackson Jr. (Long Shot and Straight Outta Compton) as death role inmate Anthony “Ray” Hinton, actor Michael Harding (Triple 2 and The Young and the Restless) as Sheriff Tate, and actor Hayes Mercure (The Red Road and Mercy Street) as a prison guard named Jeremy, are in the small supporting cast variety. Of course, some have bigger roles than others, but all of these players, which are all acted well, bolster the film’s story within the performances and involvement in Just Mercy’s narrative.

#AFTER2 # AFTER2VF # AFTERWEcollided

#After Chapitre 2 film Complet | 2020 streaming Vf

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wonderlandmind4 · 5 years

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Delicate Stages of Life: 21

Voice in My Head is Ash in My Hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: Life in Wakanda is filled with love, laughs, some tears, all emotions, lazy days, goats, hot springs, a soul connection, and something dark that looms over Bucky’s and Ana's domestic bliss...

Warnings: Language. Angst. Sad. Fluff kinda. Sickness.

Words: 7,707

A/N: Sorry again for the wait. September has been a horrible month for me, from personal loss, to stress to other stuff and pure exhaustion. But here it is! This chapter and the ones to follow will follow some canon from End Game (which goes to say, there are spoilers, but hopefully everyone has seen it by now.) I struggled a little with this one, so hopefully you like it! The time frame of weeks is in weeks of pregnancy. (Also, I finally changed the title) (Do not read unless you’ve read Delicate Stages first)

15 Weeks Pregnant:

The quite of the Avengers compound gives the illusion as if no one resides there. Words are hardly spoken, and when they are, it’s with hushed or broken tones. The air of dread, anger, defeat and pain, hangs over everyone like their own personal storm clouds.

At first it had been a little difficult, to accommodate the new guests, but Steve, Natasha and Bruce did it. They had made sure the rooms they officially picked were ready, ordered extra food as well, which turned out to be a strange challenge. Foods on the planets Rocket and Nebula’s have come from were different from that of earth.

Carol Danvers lingers with them after she had come back from checking on friends of hers. She had found out that her best friend had vanished, but the daughter of said friend was still alive. Carol is a powerful, determined and fierce presence.

She’s constantly checking her own devices to home in on Thanos’ exact location. Rocket helps her, along with Nebula and Rhodes. It’s strange little group they got going on. Rocket is all dry wit and sarcasm, but he’s just as smart as Bruce or Tony. Steve does see the haunting look of his eyes, however. He knows the little creature had lost every one of the people he grew to know as his family.

Nebula remains quiet most of the time, silently helping them locate her father. But whenever Ana makes an appearance, she watches her with sharp eyes for reasons Steve doesn’t know. If Ana eats, she sits right next to the blue alien woman.

Thor. Steve doesn’t know who’s worse off at the moment; Thor or Ana. He isolates himself just as much, and Steve, Natasha, Bruce and Rhodes all know why he does. Any words for comfort attempt quickly die on lips, end up leaving Thor alone to sit outside in solace.

During certain times of the day, especially at night in the early morning hours, Steve wakes to horrible noises. They aren’t sounds of heartbreak or sobs, though sometimes he does hear it from others. No, it’s the sound of low groans, of retching, of splashing water and ragged breaths.

Ana’s morning sickness is the worst around 3am. Several times, Steve has gotten up, headed towards the room that used to be hers and Bucky, and stops. He always just stops. He doesn’t go in, but he listens. In case she’s too sick to get up or take care of herself. She’s made it abundantly clear she doesn’t want or need anyone’s help. Especially his.

She doesn’t even look at Steve.

It’s been days, turning into weeks. Everyone watches Ana; now at fifteen weeks pregnant. Her once warm brown eyes are now dull, vacant. The little golden specks lost their glitter. She stares off in a void more often than not. When someone does address her, her responses are short, flat, sometimes dry. One worded answers or a strange snark that doesn’t seem like something she would normally say.

A surge of determination over comes him, and Steve finds himself in front of her room days later. He raises his fist to knock on the door but hesitates. He rethinks bothering her, rethinks checking up on her, making sure she’s more than alright, that she’s functioning instead of retreating into her mind too much. Ana hasn’t spoken to him in days since she turns off her emotions. In fact, she’s completely ignoring him.

And the worst part is, he doesn’t blame her. He knows exactly why.

“Steve,” Ana whispers, trying to tamper the quiver in her voice. Her eyes slide over to his stoic face. “Bring my husband back to me.”

Steve faces her, gripping her hand tight. “I swear to you, I will.”

The memory crushes him. He didn’t bring Bucky back to her. He allowed Thanos to succeed. Steve failed. He failed Bucky. He failed Ana. He failed their unborn child. He failed Tony; his friends.

Steve rests his forehead against the door, sighing in defeat. He would hate himself too, if a promise on that big of scale was broken in fact, he’s not far off. His heart hasn’t been beating properly in his chest since, and he began to wonder if super soldiers can have heart attacks.

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat, the pushes himself off the door, walking away. The moment Bucky died, was the moment Ana did too.

May 17th 2018:

Ana grits her teeth, swallowing the burning taste of bile in her throat. The warmth of a strong arm wraps around her waist, a hand splayed gently over her navel. A tender kiss is pressed against her temple, but other than the sweet comfort, Ana can’t feel or read how Bucky is feeling. Instead, she harshly throws the pregnancy test in the trash can. The force of the throw knocks the can over, spilling a few wrappers and the test onto the floor.

“Ana,” Bucky sighs, giving her another gentle kiss to her cheek.

“Maybe I just can’t get pregnant,” Ana grumbles, ignoring the way her heart clenches.

She maneuvers out of her husband’s arms, exiting the bathroom. She paces around their bedroom, looking for that one bead that is the direct line to Shuri. Now she feels Bucky’s worry amplify as he leans against the doorframe. She ignores him until she finds the beads, hidden under the one of his shirts.

“Maybe if I can connect Shuri,” Ana mumbles mostly to herself. “She can gather some doctors and we could run tests. Just to make- hey!”

Bucky had left his spot and plucked the bead from her fingers. Without a word, he drops it onto the bed, cups her face, and kisses her square on the mouth. It’s tantalizing, his lips on hers, warm and soft. She melts into his chest when his thumb gently rubs her cheekbone. Slowly, Bucky breaks away, stealing the breath from her lungs with him. He presses his forehead against hers.

“I love you,” He reminds her softly.

Ana gazes into his sky blue eyes for a few moments. She closes her eyes as she speaks. “I just feel like I’m disappointing you.”

“Never, my love. You could never disappoint me.”

“Promise?”

Bucky’s breathy chuckle makes her open her eyes. He’s still staring at her, into her heart, into her soul. “All I need is you, Annie. If we can’t have kids, which might actually be due to me, not you, then that’s okay.”

His words make her bottom lips tremble, an abrupt onslaught of emotions going through her. She nods, wrapping her fingers around his wrist.

“We could adopt,” She suggests, sniffing back unshed tears.

“That we could,” He agrees. He kisses her once more, before leaning back. “How about you go lay on the couch. I’ll make you some tea, and we can watch a movie? We don’t have to think about this for the rest of the night.”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good.”

Ana kisses his palm. “I knocked the trash over though-“

“I’ll clean it up. Now go pick a movie.”

“I love you, Bucky.”

Bucky smiles at her, squeezes her hand three times. “Love you too, doll face.”

Sticking out her tongue for the name, she finally heads to the living room. A few minutes pass, Ana with three final movies in her hands to choose from, when she pauses. A thrill of something shoots up her spine, complete opposite of the ominous one she’s been having. Then-

“Ana! Ana!”

Bucky’s call from their room has her shooting up to her feet. She panics for a split second, wondering what on earth could have happened. She meets Bucky halfway, mouth open to ask what’s the matter, when he picks her up by the waist, one arm and all, and spins her around.

Bucky is laughing gleefully as they spin. He suddenly stops, carefully lowering her to the ground. He kisses her, hard and long and giggly. Ana is baffled. Bucky has a sense of humor; he laughs unabashed when Ana tells a joke. Chuckles when the goats play with the kids around the village. Cackles when Shuri tease T’Challa restlessly. But this; Ana rarely sees Bucky this, giddy.

“What in the world!?” Ana can’t help but laugh along with him.

Bucky hold up his fist, Ana not even noticing the stick in his hand. “It’s positive!”

Utterly bemused, Ana tilts her head. “What?”

Her husband shakes his fist, beaming. “The test! It’s positive! It’s goddamn positive, Ana!”

This time, Ana narrows her gaze to really see if what he means is true. She grabs his arm to steady his fist, reading the little lines on the digital screen. Suddenly, her heart swells and she’s matching Bucky’s enthusiasm.

“Oh my god! I’m pregnant!?” She questions excitedly, beginning to hop on her feet.

“It’s what it says!” Bucky answers with a laugh.

“I’m pregnant!”

“Whoa, there, darling. Don’t jiggle baby!”

Ana stops hopping to glare at him. “You’re the one who picked me up and spun me around.”

“I’m excited! I- fuck,” Bucky breathes the last word.

His face changes from ecstatic to disbelief in a flash. Ana carefully watches his eyes, the blue color oddly turning two shades darker. His chin quivers as he looks at her. Ana quickly pulls him in for a hug as he buries his face into her neck. She gently strokes his long hair back, making quiet hushing noises to soothe him.

“We’re pregnant,” The emotion in his words make Bucky’s voice crack. “Holy hell. We’re gonna have a baby.”

Ana chuckles, tears of joy filling her eyes. She’s beyond happy, but even more so for Bucky and how he’s taking this. From all his support to wanting a family, to waiting, to comforting her after negative tests. Ana holds him tighter.

“You and me, Bucky,” She tells him in his ear. “We’re going to have a baby. Our baby. A little snowflake, just like you.”

A delightful laugh escapes his lips.

Ana snaps her eyes open, staring straight up at the ceiling. A wave of emotions rolls through her chest, down to her stomach. Inhaling slowly, she places her hand against her chest, tapering down the barely controlled sorrow. Push it down. Push it away. Control it.

Despite her shutting off her emotions for the sake of herself, and the baby, her control over them relinquishes after every dream. Every flashback, every nightmare, every little echo of Bucky. She swears she hears murmurs of his voice in her ears, but every time she looks, nothing is there. Must be in her mind. It’s been days of this.

Another wave surges through her. This time it makes her sit up. She blows out a breath, shaky in her own ears, and carefully makes her way to the bathroom. Just several moments later, Ana is bent over the toilet, hands gripping the sides of the bowl as she empties her stomach. The porcelain cracks slightly under the pressure of her fingers, unknown to her at the time.

Minutes later, after she’s sure nothing more is to come, she flushes the toilet. Ana leans back against the wall, rubbing soothing circles over her little bump. It’s utterly silent in the room; unlike the times when her morning sickness first hit.

Times when Bucky held her hair back, rubbed her back in comfort. Picked her up and put her back to bed. He would usually hum or sing to her afterwards, pressing a cool glass of water to her hands or lips to make sure she drank.

Now, a strange noise disturbs the stillness of the night, just as Ana was drifting off once more. She picks her head up, tilting her ear towards the bedroom door. She thinks she hears soft padded taps, faintly coming the hallway. Thinks she catches the gentle knock of something laid against the door. Swears she hears the whisper of a sigh, the muted rhythm of a consistent pattern.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

Ana carefully gets up, bracing herself on the counter for support. It’s then, that she notices the cracks in the toilet bowl; thinks nothing of it as she exits. Silently, she makes her way to the door, almost pressing her ear to the wood.

She hears the breath again, then backs away from the door. The same sounds of padded taps come once more, this time it sounds lighter, cautious. Realization comes over her, recognizing the sound as footsteps. The other rhythm, a heartbeat. A hand pressed against the door. A sigh heavily tainted with emotions, from someone who didn’t lock them away.

Steve.

Ana retreats further but stops when a voice is spoken.

“Steve,” The soft voice beyond the closed door is Natasha. She sounds defeated, exhausted. Raw. “C’mon, try to get some sleep.”

“She’s sick again,” Is Steve’s muttered reply. “She’s sick, Nat, and she isn’t telling anyone.”

A short pause.

“She just needs time,” Natasha doesn’t sound convincing when she says it. The unspoken “to adjust” lingers.

Ana backs away again. She will never adjust to this. As she turns to crawl back in bed, she hears Steve.

“I’m really worried about her, and the baby. I just…I don’t know how to help.”

“If she wants it, she’ll ask.”

Natasha’s voice is guarded, if not a little cold. If Ana didn’t shut off her empathic abilities, her feelings, she may have been able to read Nat’s. As it were, she can’t find herself to care, and gingerly slips back under the covers, tracing the shape of her stomach absentmindedly.

She tunes out their next words, ignores how they sound, doesn’t have the energy or care to interpret what they’re feeling. So, Ana adjusts into a position that doesn’t make her want to puke in her bed and grabs a pillow.

Bucky’s pillow. She hugs it close to her chest, hiding her face in the ghost of her husband’s scent.

They found him.

Steve’s heart is beating harshly against his chest, something akin to spikes lodging in his bones. He’s determined. Determined, and ready to fight. Ready to reverse the horrific event that occurred weeks ago. He’s ready to end Thanos.

Before they leave with the plans and location that Rocket has showed them, Steve heads to the living room. He can’t take off without at least informing the shell of the woman who used to be Ana. Witnessing the moment she shut off her emotions had a cold chill run through his veins, done to his bones.

Steve felt it too. It was something he can’t explain, and probably never be able to. It was like the air had ceased, and the abrupt emptiness to Ana’s once bright, beautiful brown eyes was heartbreaking. It’s been five days since then.

Entering the room, Steve halts, as if he was just punched in the gut. The sight of Ana sitting rim rod straight on the couch, with her head tilted to the side and eyes vacant, is haunting. Wildly, Steve makes a comparison of her, and when he first saw Bucky as the Winter Soldier.

It’s the same expression, one that looks empty, when it’s loaded with ghosts. Her head twitches to the left, her eyes shifting as if she’s hearing something that isn’t there. Steve notices her hand resting protectively over the small swell of her navel. He swallows thickly.

“Ana,” He breaks the silence, more on the terse side of tone.

She doesn’t react. He calls her name again, using a sharper tone to snap her out of the terrifying state she’s in. Ana blinks, eyes suddenly meeting his own. Her skin is shimmering, and briefly, Steve wonders if she turly has a tight control of the emotions she turned off.

“We’re leaving now,” He informs her. He nearly winces with how Captain America he sounds with her. “In case you wanted to be aware of that.”

She doesn’t react to his rude words. She blinks again. “To find Thanos.”

Her voice is low, calculated. Steve nods. She doesn’t ask or demand to go. They all know she would have jumped at the opportunity to defeat the titan herself, but the team -who was left and who was new- shut it down before Ana could even voice it.

“Yes.”

“Don’t hesitate. Kill him,” Ana commands.

Her even tone scares Steve more than he’ll ever admit.

Hopelessness. Defeat. Broken. Dread. Helplessness.

The only ounce of hope they had was snuffed out. For good. Gone. Destroyed along with the Infinity Stones. The air of the truth, of reality, settles heavily over them. Engrains in their bones, fractures they have to live with for the rest of their lives.

Steve Rogers knew better than to keep the minuscule light of hope alive in his chest. Now, now he feels the failure. He is the failure; twice. Thanos is dead, but the stones are gone. They lost the war. He lost the war.

Captain America has failed the universe.

Arriving back to earth is a blur. Nobody spoke. Thor took off, no word of where he was headed, too wrapped up in his own guilt, his own failure. With broken spirits, they land on a half empty earth. Feeling queasy as he steps off the ship, Steve notices how silent the air is. No birds chirping, no critters singing, no tiny feet of woodland creatures scurrying along the ground.

He does hear one tiny noise, however. The softest sniffle behind him. Steve glances over his shoulder as Natasha steps off the ramp. When she passes by, he sees the glistening track of tears down her face. Somberly, he follows behind her, having no words of comfort. No more semblance of hope to encourage anyone. An image of Sam’s face flashes through his mind after that thought.

Images of Wanda, Vision, T’Challa, Shuri, the tree friend of Rocket’s-Groot, everyone who willing fought alongside them. Images of Bucky. Steve halts. Replaying Bucky’s confused expression in his mind. Bucky turning dark. Bucky staggering. Bucky seeking out his wife. Bucky crumbling into dust between Ana’s fingers.

How is Steve going to tell Ana that he’s failed her; again. He broke one promise to her, and now, he has to take away the only small chance of hope left. A trail of wet runs down his cheek, hastily wiping it away. He can’t fall apart now, not before he tells her.

“I can do it,” A soft spoken voice breaks the muteness of the air. “I can inform Ana.”

Nebulas is standing next to him, eyes staring straight ahead at the compound. Steve would find it odd, her offer, if he hasn’t noticed Nebula watching Ana closely. Since the day Ana turned emotionless, Nebula has taken a strange sort of fascinating with her. Ana, in return, when she actually ventures out of her room, she tends to sit next to the blue skin woman. Steve figured it must be because of Nebula’s stoic nature, someone who doesn’t show emotions often either.

Nodding his head in appreciate, he gives her a sad smile. More of a grimace than anything else.

“It’s alright,” He tells her, his own voice sounds distant. “I’ll do it. In case she…reacts. It’s better if it’s on me. But thank you.”

Nebula meets his gaze for a moment, nod, then continues. Steve follows behind her.

Changing out of his suit gives Steve a few extra minutes before he searches for Ana. It takes some time however, since he can’t seem to find her easily. He makes eye contact with Colonel Rhodes, who just shrugs and takes a sip of whiskey in his glass. Rocket has his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth. Natasha is also MIA, and Carol is staring out the window, as if she’s trying to figure out an alternate way to get everyone back.

Steve heads back towards her room, when he realizes exactly where Ana is. He pulls down the hidden staircase in the hallway, ascending the stairs with heavy steps. Once he reaches the door, he pauses to gather himself, swallowing the burn of tears back. Then he opens the door to the roof.

Ana is sitting on one of the chairs, twirling what looks like a pebble between her fingers. She doesn’t glance his way, but her head tilts. It’s like she’s expecting the news.

“The stones are gone,” Steve informs her, his voice thick. He inhales deeply. “Thanos destroyed them.”

That makes Ana meet his eyes. Other than that, there’s no reaction on her face. “And Thanos, himself?”

“Dead. Thor…Thor killed him. Sliced his head off.”

The silence that stretches between them only last a minute. To Steve, it feels like years. He’s waiting. Waiting for her to lash out in an explosion of energy. Lash out with her powers that have been growing over the past months. Or turn her emotions back on, just to yell and scream at him that it’s all his fault.

Instead, Ana stands, dropping the pebble to the ground. She has taken to wearing Bucky’s red Henley shirt and his jacket more than anything else. But even with the slightly baggy size and length of the shirt, her baby bump is evident through the material. Steve feels sick to his soul.

“Huh,” Ana finally voices dryly. “Wish you would’ve filmed it. It would have made for some great entertainment.”

Her words stun Steve. Roots him right to the spot he’s standing, not even able to stop her from brushing past him. She exists the roof, letting the door swing shut loudly, a rush of air blowing against this body. In that motion, Steve catches the faint whiff of someone familiar. The scent of someone gone, dusted, turned to ash. The scent of Bucky lingering on the shirt.

Steve sinks to his knees, burying his face in his hands. He sobs.

16 weeks:

“You’re going to see the goddamn doctor now, or I will be forced to make you see her myself.”

“Were people really terrified of you with those horrible threats?” Ana responds without missing a beat.

“If I have to be terrifying to make you actually feel something, then so be it.”

Natasha’s real threat makes the tension in the room thicker. Ana barely registers it. Nat has been trying to convince her to see her doctor for the past hour. It’s been five days since they arrived back after finding Thanos, and Ana hasn’t stopped throwing up. In fact, she sees show pale her skin gets every time she looks in a mirror. She has been feeling weaker by the minute, but she chalks it up to lack of sleep.

“I’m quaking in my socks,” She replies flatly.

“Why don’t you just bring the doc here?” Rocket pipes up, looking a smidge entertained by the exchange.

Ana just sips her coffee. Decaf coffee. Because Steve, Rhodes and Nat had cleared the entire compound of the regular, normal caffeinated coffee. Vaguely she thinks of ways to convince Carol to help with her energy beams.

Annie

Ana straightens, tuning out the light bickering between Natasha and Rocket. She glances to her right, eyes searching the trees outside the window. Nothing is there, just the wind soundlessly blowing through the leaves.

“Why doesn’t Banner Metal Buster look her over?”

Rocket’s voice brings Ana back to their conversation, shaking her head to rid the echo in her ears.

“Banner-” Nat pauses.

“Bruce took off last night. No word, no note. He’s just gone,” Rhodes informs somberly.

Another one who left. First Thor, now Bruce. Ana pegs Rhodes to leave next, since he is still part of the military that have been scrambling to make sense of what happened.

Ana is tired of the chatting. “Here’s a thought. How about the one who is carrying the baby decides it on her own?”

“Because!” Natasha snaps, “The dry, sarcastic ass who is carrying the baby doesn’t have her head on straight and would rather put her baby in danger than suck up her goddamn pride and see the goddamn doctor.”

Ana blinks.

“This just got awkward,” Rocket mutters to Rhodes. He nods in agreement.

“Tell me how you really feel, Romanoff,” Ana deadpans.

“Enough!” Steve finally snaps, sitting up from laying supine on the couch. “Nat, back off. Ana, she’s just concerned about your well-being, but she can’t force you to go. So, do whatever you want. It is your choice. But if you go now, you won’t have to go for another few weeks. At least Nat will get off your back if you do.”

Annie

The echo in her mind is louder. She stares unseeingly ahead, trying to listen where it’s coming from. Is it a voice? Is it her mind playing tricks? Is she going crazy and hearing something else that suspiciously sounds like the nickname only one person ever called her by? And why. Why does it make a wave of every single emotion she’s locked away, nearly resurface? Is it making her lose control?

The murmur of the word has been echoing for weeks. Like a whisper in the lightest breeze.

“Ana?”

A tentative touch to her arm snaps her out of it. Blue. She sees blue eyes, staring back at her.

Bucky.

She lifts her hand, then blinks. It’s not the same blue she used to get lost in. It’s not Bucky. It’s Steve. The utter fear in his eyes give way to her right decision to turn off her emotions. She doesn’t have to feel what she sees.

“You’re glowing again,” Steve tells her quietly.

Glancing down at his hand on her forearm, she knows he’s right. Strange. Ana brings her hand hanging in the air to her chest, and the abrupt wave and glow of her skin vanishes. Someone shifts over Steve’s shoulder, making Ana move her gaze to them.

Carol is standing just beyond him, arms crossed, expression curiously intrigued. Nebula also looks mildly interested. Moving her eyes back to Steve, he dips his head down, coming close enough for only her to hear his next words.

“Please let me take you,” He begs quietly. “When you’re ready.”

“No,” Ana answers.

An odd twitch at his jaw catches her attention, but he releases her arm and steps back. The subject isn’t brought up after that.

17 Weeks:

Light droplets of rain falling against the roof of their hut, is what pulls Ana from her deep slumber. She always enjoyed the rain, the sound seeming to lure her to sleep quicker than normal clear nights. She sighs, the fingers of sleep pulling her back in, before another noise breaks through the gentle rainfall.

It’s a low, tender rumble, coming below her. It’s followed be a delicate press of something soft and scratchy against her skin. The skin of her stomach. A soothing swiping of something warm makes her eyes flutter open, turning her head to her left. Bucky isn’t there. So, she glances down and finds him.

He’s propped up on his elbows, his hand lightly splayed over her stomach, just over her navel. His thumb is drawing little lines back and forth, and he leans down to kiss her stomach once more.

“-so, little bean, I promise,” Bucky is murmuring. Apparently, he’s been talking for a while. “I swear I’ll be the best father I can be for you. Your mother is already the greatest person ever. She’s my best gal, and she will be yours too. You are so lucky so have her as a mother, little bean. I’m so lucky to have her and you in my life now. And I promise, little one, I will love you with everything I have. I already do.”

He kisses her stomach again, once, twice, four times before resting his cheek on her hipbone. Ana’s heart had swelled so much as he spoke, it’s a wonder how it hasn’t burst out of her chest yet. She slowly lifts her head and sinks her fingers in her husband’s soft hair, lightly scratching his scalp.

Bucky sighs deeply. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Ana smiles down at him as he tilts his face to meet her gaze. God, she hopes their little one will have his bright blue eyes.

“You are going to be an incredible father, Bucky,” She whispers, dropping her hand to his jaw. “We are the lucky ones.”

Bucky’s face scrunches up, a sign of debate if she ever saw one. “I hope I will be.”

Ana hooks her finger under his chin, tugging him until he relents and crawls over her body, hovering. She leans up to meet him, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to his mouth.

“I have no doubts, Winter Snowflake.”

Bucky hums against her lips. “Go back to sleep, Annie Doll. You need all the rest you can get.”

“Especially now that I can’t drink coffee.”

“You can drink decaf.”

Ana scrunches her nose. “There’s no point.”

Bucky laughs quietly, kissing her nose. “Love you.”

Ana drops back down as Bucky carefully flops over to her side, lifting his arm so she can snuggle beneath it. The back of her head is resting on his shoulder, and she falls asleep to the feel of Bucky’s hand laid protectively over her stomach.

Dry air stings at wide open eyes, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. Another dream of a memory. Another tug at her empty heart with nothing to fill it. A sharp clench, weirdly feeling like a movement from inside disturbs a rare moment of peace. It arrives in the form of strong nausea.

A loud groan breaks the silent of the early morning. Ana wraps her arm around her stomach, inhaling through her nose, and exhaling through her mouth. It’s been seventeen weeks now, with eight of those having her head in a toilet.

“C’mon little bean,” She mutters meekly, wincing as she swallows back the burn of bile. “Just let me sleep through the night without being sick.”

She blows out a breath, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand. The water barely cools her down, her skin sticky from sweat and feeling horrible. She hears those same soft footsteps, too quiet to anyone else, sneak up to her door.

She’s gotten used to the new sounds she hadn’t been able to hear before. She has a vague inkling as to why it’s happening for the past three weeks, but it’s not something she wants to think about. And she doesn’t have too, for a gentle knock sounds at her door.

She doesn’t get a chance to answer, the door opens, and a blonde head is poking through the crack. It’s not Steve, even though Ana knew it was his footsteps. Instead, it’s Carol, her expression a mix of sheepish and no remorse simultaneously. It’s impressive, and if Ana had her emotions in tact, she’d probably laugh.

“Did my puking wake you?” She greets flatly.

“Nah, the smell did,” Carol responds without missing a beat. Ana tolerates her. “If I come in, will you blast me with your energy draining hands? Though that might be pretty badass.”

Ana has a thought of liking the woman if she ever feels again.

“Energy draining hands are all out for the moment,” She says, attempting to sit up. Little bean baby doesn’t like that movement though. Ana rubs her stomach.

“I have something for you,” Carol announces, entering the room and closing the door behind her. “By the way, you know Rogers has been pressing his ear to the door for the past several weeks, right?”

“He’s never been good at sneaking. Buc-“ Ana cuts herself off. “I’ve heard his lack of discretion dates back to the 30’s.”

A smirk is given but not returned. Carol walks to the bed and sits herself down, placing a vile in Ana’s lap.

“Am I supposed to know what this is?”

“I don’t know you well, but I can’t tell if your dry humor is a part of who you are, or it’s just weird emotionless streak you got going on. Pretty impressive though.”

Ana doesn’t respond to that.

“It’s an elixir,” She continues, “Similar to what I gave Stark. This is targeted more to expecting mothers with extreme illness. Helps settle rapid hormonal changes.”

“Neat.”

Carol huffs a chuckle. “Drink it. You’ll feel better,” She stands up, eyeing over her once. “It’ll help you sleep too. I’ll leave you to it.”

Ana gives her some form of a goodbye wave. She twists off the top, putting the open bottle to her lips.

“You’re not alone. Just in case you forgot that.”

Those are Carol’s parting words just before she closes the door behind her.

Annie

Ana hesitates for a moment, then drinks half the bottle. After she brushes her teeth, she settles back in bed. A small movement stirs in her stomach. She places a hand over the spot and drifts off to sleep not long after.

Awareness comes slowly to Ana. She stares, unseeing above her. She stirs, her fingers brushing over something that isn’t her sheets. It’s loose, floaty. Sitting up, she realizes she had been laying in two inches of water. It’s not hot, or cold, it just is. She doesn’t feel it, but it spans out endlessly around her. She carefully stands up, noticing her fingers aren’t dripping with droplets, that her clothes aren’t wet.

She takes in her surroundings; the sky is a burning orange that fades into pink. Sunset colors that remind her of Wakanda’s. She’s not in Wakanda though. It’s a void. An empty, endless void. She begins to wonder, aimlessly walking for who know how long.

Something pulls at her chest, beckoning her in the same direction she had been walking in. A door is suddenly there, when it wasn’t before. Ana stops. She reaches her hand out, fingers just barely grazing the smooth wood.

“Annie.”

Ana turns, looking behind her for the voice. Nothing. No one. Just a fading cloud of ashes.

When Ana wakes, sunlight streaming into the room through the cracked curtain, she rubs an itch at her eye. Her fingers come away wet. She touches both hands to the sides of face, damp tracks on her temples. Sitting up, she sniffs. Realization dawns on her like the rising sun.

She is crying.

In the middle of what she thought had been emotionless weeks, Ana is crying. From a dream. A dream that cuts her deep to her soul, as if she felt it. As if it were real. Hastily she wipes the rest of the tears away and gets up.

A small roll goes through her belly, but it’s not of sickness. Of all the books and articles, she has read, Ana knows the movement inside her stomach might be too soon. However, her own strength has been growing. Leaving cracks and divots on surfaces, and nearly pulling a door to the roof off the hinges, she has an inkling of why it could be happening.

She doesn’t linger on the thought or the strange dream. Ana just gets ready, gets dress and leaves the room. She makes sure to zip up Bucky’s jacket, one she refuses to wash, and slips out of the resident floor before anyone wakes up.

She doesn’t notice that someone is already awake, sitting in the dark in the living room, watching her leave.

(17 ½ half weeks)

Cold jelly is squirted and spread along Ana’s small round belly. She scrunches her nose at the feeling, as the handle of the ultrasound machine glides smoothly over her stretching skin. She stares at the ceiling until the Obstetrician, Dr. Hammond, speaks up.

“Ahh, there’s your baby,” She announces happily.

Ana turns her head to the left, squinting to make out the small shape in the snow of black and white. Unlike the first two times, she feels nothing in her chest. Vaguely she wonders if that will affect her after giving birth.

“You know, Mrs. Barnes, you’re well past the point to know the gender. Would you like to?”

Warm breath fans across Ana’s bare stomach. Gentle kisses pressed all over her skin.

“This is fine when I’m sleeping, not when I’m trying to cook, Bucky!” Ana giggles, leaning against the counter.

“I can cook for you, Annie,” Bucky sighs, pressing one last kiss to her belly before standing. “Even if it’s one of your weird cravings.”

“Nutella and cheese crepes are not weird,” She pouts, tugging a piece of his hair. Bucky shoots her a look, as he puts a spoonful of Nutella in his sinful mouth.

“I wanted to ask you something,” She begins lightly. “Totally up to you, babe.”

“I’m sore, Ana, can’t we have sex in the hot springs later?” He jokes, winking.

“Bucky!” She laughs brightly.

“Okay fine, we can have sex on the counter now,” He scoffs as if he’s put out. The twinkle in his blue eyes give him away.

Ana tugs him close and kisses his hazelnut flavored lips. “Hush, Snow Flurry. I wanted to ask…do you want to know the sex of the baby when the time comes?”

Bucky’s eyes brows shoot up for a moment as he ponders. His fingers trace over her stomach, too soon for a bump to be showing. He places a tender kiss on her eyebrow.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Bucky counters instead.

“Whatever you want, honest.”

He dips his head, a shy smile spreading across his lips. “I…think I want to be surprised. This was such an amazing one, and I kind of want to be surprised again, if that’s okay.”

Ana cups his jaw to make him look at her. “Of course, it is, Bucky. We’ll be surprised together.”

“Mrs. Barnes?”

Dr. Hammond’s voice snaps her out of the memory.

“No.” Ana answers.

“No?”

“I don’t want to know. I want to keep it a…surprise.”

“Alright then,” The Doctor smiles, moving away from a different spot. “If you want a surprise…”

Ana blinks, waiting as she watches the image rove around and shimmer. She blinks at the screen again. “What the hell is that?”

“Something I noticed last time, but it’s more prominent now. I wasn’t sure what it could be. I thought I was seeing things. But with your enhanced abilities…it is possible that this little shimmering circle here,” She traces the shape with her finger on the ultrasound. “I think it’s some sort of, protective layer over the amniotic sac. Another, thick layer of the membrane, in simpler terms.”

“What?” Ana questions. “What does that mean?”

“From reading your files and what you can do with your abilities. I think you somehow created a protective energy barrier around the fetus. We could run a test, maybe take a sample, but that’s invasive and in your delicate state, I would rather not risk it. But that there, my dear, is nothing I have ever seen before.”

“No test please,” Ana requests without hesitation. “Does this mean the baby is healthy?”

“Yes,” She gives her a reassure smile. “Although the baby is little smaller in size, but that can be normal for your first pregnancy. You have a healthy little baby. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean you are.”

“What?” Ana is becoming redundant.

“Your levels and vitals, Mrs. Barnes,” Dr. Hammond explains kindly. “They are better than the last time you came in, but I still want to keep an eye on them. Your blood pressure is a little low still, as is your sugar. I also want to keep a keen eye on your iron levels. Just be sure you’re eating enough of the right foods, and drinking enough water, getting plenty of sleep. I’ll write you a prescription for some morning sickness medication, and make sure to take the prenatal vitamins I gave you. You do have a severe case of morning sickness.”

She pauses for moment. “I know how hard this must be for you,” Dr. Hammonds voice cracks, and her eyes glisten. “But I think you are strong, and it is okay to be sad. It’s okay to be hurting. Just take it easy. Try to do things that keep your stress levels down.

“I have to research more into that protective layer, but it could possibly take from your own energy levels as well. If you feel something like that happening, do not hesitate to call me. I am here for you and your baby.”

If Ana was feeling anything, she may have more of a grateful response. Instead, a small “thank you,” is spoken.

“You’re welcome,” Dr. Hammond replies gently. “Let me wipe this gel off your skin and write your prescription and you’re good to go. Oh! I heard you fought in Wakanda, despite knowing you were pregnant.”

Ana briefly thinks she’s going to be scolded.

“At least know we know the fetus was perfectly protected in case you were injured.”

Ana leaves the office rethinking the words of the doctor. As she walks through the building, she picks up on a faint heartbeat. On light footsteps she’d heard before.

“I don’t remember asking you to come,” Ana speaks up flatly.

The person following her stops next to her at the elevators. “You didn’t not ask either. Fair game.”

Ana just folds the papers she has in her hands.

“A protective barrier, huh?” Natasha states.

“Eavesdropping on a private patient-doctor appointment is a violation of HIPPA, didn’t you know?”

Ana allows Natasha to step into the elevator first after the doors open.

“That’s the least criminal thing I’ve done.”

“As we all know.”

She sees Natasha snap her eyes to her after those words. The rest of the ride is quiet. They walk out together, and not to Ana’s surprise, Nat parked right next to her.

“I’m just worried about you, okay?” Natasha says. She cracks. Someone who easily doesn’t show her emotions, has shown more than Ana has in the past month. “Bucky wouldn’t-“

“Bucky isn’t here, Natasha.” Ana reminds her.

“We don’t want this to affect you! You aren’t…this isn’t you! Pushing us away, shutting off your emotions. You’re having a baby and sometimes it seems like…like you don’t care.”

Ana pauses by the car she took, staring at Natasha dead in her eyes. “Say that to me again if I turn my emotions back on.”

With that, Ana gets in the car and drives away.

18 Weeks:

Ana sits up slowly, the comfort of her bed giving way to two inches of wetless water. She stands, surveys her surroundings with keen eyes. Nothing. Nothing but the endless pond of water meeting the burnt orange sky. She circles once, twice, three times.

Her feet move of their own accord, walking just to move, just to see where she is. Abruptly she stops. All she did was blink, closed her eyes for split second; there’s a door. A door that wasn’t there a moment ago has now appeared, several yards ahead of her. Unlike last time however, there’s a small figure.

Standing in front of the door, back turned to her. Ana continues to walk, feeling a pull in her chest towards the sight. As she gets closer, she realizes the figure isn’t something, someone, she has seen before. Curious, she tries to move faster, but her feet keep the steady slow pace.

She’s just few away, when the small figure -a child?- vanishes. Just the same door now looming in front of Ana. As before, she lifts her hand, fingertips barely grazing along the wood. Something stops her from pushing it open, frozen for a moment before she turns around. Her heart seizes in her chest.

Bucky.

Ana blinks.

Like the calm of the sea after a raging storm

Bucky is still there. Standing soundlessly. Deep blue eyes stare back at her, calming the raging sea inside her just from one look. A tender smile spreads across his red lips, lips she has missed so much. Lips she still feels the imprint of on her skin. That look. That look he always gives her colors his face, softens his expression. A look of adoration, of love.

Ana inhales with a shudder, heart pounding against her chest, as if it can sense Bucky’s. He reaches his flesh hand up, stretching it towards her. Ana breathes out a relieve gasp, feeling her own lips trembling into a smile.

Reaching out with her own hand, Ana takes a step closer. Her heart beats in a rapid rhythm of BuckyBuckyBucky. She’s so close, just inches apart from each other, from her husband, from Bucky. She begins to feel a warm tingling at the tips of her fingers.

Just as their fingers brush, the barest of contact, Bucky’s fingers crumble into ash. Ana frantically lunges for him, to grab any part of his body to bury him inside her chest, keep him safe, protected. It doesn’t work.

Bucky fades into a cloud of dust and ash.

A loud gulping gasp wrenches Ana from the dream. Or was it a nightmare? Cautiously, she pushes herself up, staring at her trembling hands, as if she can see them covered in dust. Her fingertips burn with her loss, with the very real memory of him fading between her fingers.

Her skin is glowing. The dark room flickers to life with light from the lamps. The familiar wave of nausea churns her stomach, followed by the same movement she’s been feeling for days. Clenching her hands into fists, ignoring the wet drops landing on her skin and the lack of control she has from waking up, Ana wraps her arms around her stomach.

Breathing in deeply, her scent clouded by the comfort of his pillow, of his jacket, Ana finally regains control. Her stomach calms, as does the tiny movement. The lights abruptly stop flashing, throwing the room back into the dark. The night settles once more.

Ana lays back down, hands now splayed over her bump. She stares at the ceiling, wishing. Wishing to understand the dream. Wishing to save him, to bring him back with her. Wishing she could feel even the smallest ounce of Bucky. She doesn’t.

Ana feels nothing but the emptiness in her chest.

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

Drabbles: Twenty Drabbles: Twenty-Two

(A/N: I’m sorry if this was horrible!)

Tags: @thecreatiivecorner @kat-lives @stressedasalways @watchoutforfrostbite @justreadingfics @keldachick @fics-i-read @eurynome827 @elatedmarvel @shesalatesh @paintedgreywriting @boney-and-skinny

#Bucky Barnes x OFC #Bucky Barnes x Ana #bucky barnes x original female character #delicate stages drabbles #my fic #bucky barnes fanfic

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cafedisco3 · 5 years

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BOY’S CRY

Before sharing his story with the world and becoming one of the most important artists of our time, Frank Ocean was a high school graduate in New Orleans scouring for jobs to pay for studio time to record his potential projects. In August 2005, Hurricane Katrina wreaked havoc across the region, provoking Ocean’s move from New Orleans to Los Angeles, California. It was in California that Frank eventually found his opening into the music industry. Landing a songwriting deal, he began ghostwriting for many of the biggest artists we know today: Justin Bieber (“Bigger”, 2008) and Beyoncé (“I Miss You”, 2009). In 2009, he started working with Odd Future, specifically Tyler, the Creator - one of his best friends, who played a pivotal role in encouraging him to continue writing songs, but for himself. Through Odd Future, Frank was able to meet Producer, Tricky Stewart who eventually introduced him to an American Record Label: Def Jam Recordings. Though this deal was meant to serve as his platform for releasing music, out of frustration he released his first mixtape, nostalgia, ULTRA, for free download on Tumblr. Frank explained that he was frustrated with the label for not being supportive of his efforts after signing. Regardless of the heightened tension in Frank’s relationship with the label, this mixtape ignited the spark of his fame to follow. Frank’s pilot success with this mixtape allowed his standing to grow tremendously, eliciting feature requests from A-listers such as Jay-Z and Kanye West, but for the most part, Frank remained highly selective with his craft and unwaveringly loyal to Tyler and Odd Future.

This origin story is only the tip of the elusive iceberg that is Frank Ocean. Since before the days of nostalgia, ULTRA, Frank has been selective with his public interactions. Once a ghostwriter for pop stars and then a secret weapon among Odd Future’s large roster, playing the background seemed to come naturally to him. However, the star within him proved too bright to contain. Still, since his rise in stature, rather than outwardly embracing the fame that was guaranteed, he chose instead to remain guarded with his art and protective of his image. Over time, this has allowed him to meticulously reveal himself on his own terms, using his art as a way to give insight into his identity. It was only when speculations about his sexuality began to circle through the hip-hop and pop community prior to the release of his debut studio album, channel ORANGE, that the once-guarded artist decided to become candid in a way he never previously attempted; on his Tumblr, through an open letter to his fans titled Thank You, Frank went on to reveal his bisexaulity:

Credit: http://frankocean.tumblr.com/post/26473798723

I don’t think I’m exaggerating in the slightest when I say that this letter was a beautiful, poetic exemplification of love. In typical Frank fashion, it wasn’t an overt admission of anything, because there isn’t anything to admit. We are who we are, and according to Frank, that is “human beings spinning on blackness”. According to Frank we are a lot more alike than we are different, regardless of our race, cultures or sexual identity. He chose to focus on what makes us all similar as humans, and if he revealed or confirmed something about himself that wasn’t clear to you in the process, then so be it. His sexuality wasn’t the point of the letter. The letter was about empathy and love. The letter was about being human. In an era were child-suicide rates were increasingly linked to homophobia and transphobia, especially in black and latino communities, Frank used his story to humanize those who had been historically demonized.

This letter birthed a chapter for Frank’s influence. When channel ORANGE arrived that following summer, these feelings of self-discovery through heartache and unrequited love reverberated all throughout the tracklist. The album itself was named after the summer detailed in his letter, the summer during which he first fell in love with another man. Frank dropping this album and his Thank You letter was powerful, valiant move. He cut through the lingering homophobia of the time and crafted a tale of perseverance and acceptance. This album allowed me, someone with completely different experiences, to appreciate his journey. He successfully detached himself from the increasingly materialistic world of the music industry and turned his art into statements that effectively captured the current state of the human condition.

There are two songs off of channel ORANGE that I believe are worth highlighting. The first is “Bad Religion”:

Taxi driver Be my shrink for the hour Leave the meter running It's rush hour So take the streets if you wanna Just outrun the demons, could you He said "Allahu akbar", I told him don't curse me “Bo Bo, you need prayer,” I guess it couldn't hurt me If it brings me to my knees It's a bad religion This unrequited love To me it's nothing but a one-man cult And cyanide in my Styrofoam cup I can never make him love me Never make him love me Love It's a bad religion To be in love with someone Who could never love you I know Only bad religion Could have me feeling the way I do

This is a story of longing, of internal conflict and crippling self-doubt. With no one to turn to, Frank resigns to confessing his deepest, most closely guarded truths in the backseat of a taxi, and his thoughts betray the confidence that many of his fans may have prematurely branded him with. These confessional thoughts instead show him in his most fragile state, one in which he seems internalize years of homophobic rhetoric. The stigma that homosexaulity or sexual fluidity is a sin, is amoral, and requires prayer and absolution is so deeply ingrained in society that Frank doesn’t even flinch when the taxi driver basically tells him to pray away his desires. Instead, he chooses grasp onto the suggestion, wondering if maybe he should find a way to detach himself from the unrequited love that has brought him so much pain - whether through religion or drugs. This song is a heart-wrenching discussion of the internal struggle felt by Frank throughout the journey detailed in his letter. Frank’s lyrics expertly navigate self-hate and heartbreak, and his execution features a stunning vocal performance that evokes a deep, soulful pain that feels universally applicable to all humans.

The second song of importance would be “Forrest Gump”:

I wanna see your pom poms from the stands Come on, come on My fingertips, and my lips, they burn From the cigarettes Forrest Gump you run my mind boy Running on my mind boy Forrest Gump I know you Forrest I know you wouldn't hurt a beetle But you're so buff, and so strong I'm nervous Forrest Forrest Gump My fingertips, and my lips, they burn From the cigarettes Forrest Gump you run my mind boy Running on my mind boy Forrest Gump I saw ya game, Forrest I was screamin' run 44 But you kept runnin' past the end zone Oh where'd you go Forrest Forrest Gump

If “Bad Religion” - and “Thinkin’ Bout You” before it - were subtle allusions to his bisexuality, “Forrest Gump”, the penultimate track on channel ORANGE, would be the unabashed coming out party. In this song, Frank beautifully covers the timeless love story from the film, Forrest Gump, but through Jenny’s perspective - one that he clearly relates to on a visceral level. In the movie, Jenny and Forrest don’t end up together - but neither did Frank and his love at 19 years of age. In a very literal sense, Forrest Gump is used as a metaphor for a man running away from Frank - referring to the different paths taken by him and the man he fell in love - and this story is another example of unrequited love. But it’s uptempo nature and Frank’s equally light singing paints it in a much different light than “Bad Religion”. Here, there is no self-doubt and he seems to believe the experience of the fling was worth it. It’s the bright result of having grappeld with his emotions throughout the album’s more dark spots. This is essentially Frank fully submerging into his new lifestyle that he explains in his letter as being “a free man”. Similar to his letter, Frank is grateful for the man he fell in love with, regardless of the outcome.

Despite this album being such a bold statement on his part, highlighting him as an artist that will stand the test of time, I’ve always felt as if its slow and melancholic vibes represent a shyer, younger Frank Ocean. Since releasing his letter and reinventing himself as a free man, the outward projection of his confidence has considerably escalated. Four years after channel ORANGE the fans were finally given a second and third album, simultaneously: Endless and Blonde. I personally cherished these albums, not expecting any new music for yet another few years, but just as I was getting used to the idea of no new Frank music, he released a single on his Beats 1 radio show, Blonded Radio: Chanel. Chanel was released in March 2017, and I can’t think of any way to describe the start of the song, besides epic:

My guy pretty like a girl And he got fight stories to tell I see both sides like Chanel

See on both sides like Chanel

The Undefeated’s online music review of this song describes these first few lyrics in the following manner: “The boastful first few bars of Ocean’s new song might be the coldest, gayest, and most securely masculine flex in the history of rap. Elegant and mellow, the song’s lyrics read as a deliberate ode to duality and non-heteronormative binaries - an ambition, that since the death of Prince Rogers Nelson, is sorely missed in black music”. Whether I’ve convinced you or not, I truly believe Frank Ocean is an icon. He has made tremendous strides through his music and personal life and his consistently made choices that have positively influenced millions. As a visionary and genius, he’s stood out not only as a singer, but as a writer, a visual artist, and an activist.

Credit: https://www.gq.com/story/frank-ocean-is-peerless

#frank ocean #blonded #chanel #bisexual #genrefluid #genrebending #innovative #inspirational #artist #visual #activist #singer #writer #bad religion #channelorange #boysdontcry #lgbtq+

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allthephils · 5 years

Text

Sometimes Always

I never sleep you guys. I should be writing other things but then this happened. I hope you like it!

1666 words Rated T (implied sexual content, established relationship)

Read on AO3

Summary: Dan is moving forward and Phil is scared but only a little.

Phil’s swim trunks float somewhere on the other side of the pool. They’re probably too old for this or maybe this is exactly the right time. They can afford this place with its pool surrounded by palm trees, overlooking an ocean they won’t risk swimming in. They’re isolated just enough, safe from prying eyes and google searches. Phil’s parents are in another house just up the road but he’d rented this place just for he and Dan. They don’t do this sort of thing anymore, they aren’t rabid for each other the way the fans imagine. It has been nearly a decade after all. It isn’t a hardship to share a house with Phil’s parents, they can stay quiet or just go without.

Not this time though. This year has been different from any year since they’ve known one another. There’s no joint content, no radio show, no tour, no live shows, no book. Dan is determined to find his purpose, his calling, that thing that makes him feel like his life isn’t a joke. He knows what he means to his fans but it isn’t enough, he needs to know he’s moving forward, growing, and truly creating. Phil just wants to hold things up so Dan can figure it all out. He feels a little guilty at times, a little silly, a little inferior for not wanting more for himself. He likes YouTube. He just wants to make content and be with Dan and maybe get a dog. His brand of ambition is different than Dan’s. He’s satisfied.

So, when Dan told him he wouldn’t be coming along to Florida this time because he’d been invited to a writer’s retreat, Phil had tried to be supportive.

“Comedy writing? Is that a thing you want to do?”

It was a silly question, he doesn’t know what he wants to do. That’s what all this change has been about. Of course, Phil thinks Dan is hilarious. He thinks he’d be a great writer if he could tone down the pretension just a little bit. It's just that Phil’s been wanting to write a book or a screenplay for so long, he might be a little jealous.

“Ok but Phil, would you even go if you were invited?”

No. The fact is, it’s not Phil’s thing. It was invitation only, for mature YouTubers, people who have been identified as potential moneymakers, people who could go mainstream. That’s not Phil and he knows it. He doesn’t even want that. Maybe it’s just that he misses Dan. He sees him every day, they do everything together, but yeah, he misses him. They used to be creative together. They used to work together and stay up late arguing over which glances to edit out and which innuendo to leave in. Day to day life is different, not bad just different. And it is Mother’s Day. Only in America of course but Kath deserves a celebration on both sides of the pond. Dan generally scoffs at that sort of thing but he knows better than to argue with Phil when it comes to his mother. He’s a smart man so he’d sweetly apologized and promised to join them after the retreat.

He got in last night and Phil listened to him go on about all the things he learned. He listened to him complain about YouTubers and how sick to death he is of them. Except Phil, of course. He does that, he pulls back, makes exceptions, makes sure Phil knows he is the original, he’s not the same as the rest of them. The fact remains that he wants out of that world. His foot is on the gas and there’s a piece of Phil that is terrified of being left behind. Couples grow apart all the time. That can’t happen to them.

So this time, they’ll have a house to themselves. They’ll sleep late and take all their showers together. They’ll talk into the wee hours and fall asleep wherever they end up. They won’t have to explain the weird movies they watch and they will decide together when to spend time with the family. They need to strip to the core of who they are. It isn’t YouTube and projects and plausible deniability. It’s something intangible that anyone who sees them together can see, plain as day. It would be cliche to say people search their whole lives for what they have but it would be true.

“Did your mum do this? Is she worried about us again?” Dan’s chest is pressed against Phil’s, the cool water a stark contrast to the hot sun beating down on their shoulders.

“No, I did. I wanted you all to myself.”

Dan hadn’t bothered to put anything on, just strode out, totally naked, and stepped into the water. Phil followed suit before Dan could swim to where he stood against the blue tiled pool wall. Memories of Jamaica rushed in. They were so young and Dan was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, so golden in the sun. He knew they’d end up here. He knew Dan would be infinitely more gorgeous nearly a decade later, that they’d be together and they’d be ok. Dan didn’t though. He still doesn’t know how they got here or where they're going or if they’ll be ok. That doubt scares Phil and undermines his nearly unshakeable confidence in what they have.

Phil doesn’t hold back, digging fingers into the soft flesh of Dan’s ass, lifting him easily in the water. Legs wrap around his waist and his mouth moves to press against familiar skin, saltier here than it is at home, hot and slick and predictably sensitive. That taste and the sound of short breaths and stilted moans, those things are Phil’s. This piece of Dan is his and his alone. It isn’t the sex, not just the sex at least. It’s the absence of shame, the honesty, the raw, unabashed connection.

Phil holds him there, all of him. He’s whole with Phil in a way he isn’t with anyone else but he’s searching for that thing that makes him whole on his own. The realization washes over Phil, a rush of fear up his spine, and he lifts his head to kiss Dan as deeply as he ever has. One hand moves to wrap around Dan’s back, pulling him in, desperation clear in the quick shift.

“Babe.” Dan says, pulling back only to have his bottom lip bitten and pulled by Phil’s chasing mouth. “Are you ok?”

“I love you.” Phil wants to get on with it. He needs to be reminded of how they know each other, how he can’t be replaced, but he feels Dan’s legs unfurl. He steps back and there is far too much distance between them for how hard they both are, how they ache for one another. Years ago, they’d have fucked right here. In Jamaica, they’d have touched each other under the water till they nearly came then wrapped themselves in towels and snuck away. That’s not how they got here though. A relationship like theirs isn’t born of clear blue waters. This love emerges new again and again from the murky emotional depths of real life.

So Phil looks into Dan’s eyes and sees his worry and his waning patience. He heaves a breath and empties the contents of his anxious heart.

“I’m scared.”

“Ok.” Dan’s voice is terse, low on tolerance after a week of too much social contact. “Why are you scared?”

“You’re speeding ahead of me.” Phil puts a hand to Dan’s face. “I’m happy for you but I’m afraid you won’t need me anymore.”

Dan has made his way to the wall next to Phil and he lifts himself to sit on the edge. Phil could do the same but he fits himself between Dan’s knees instead. Arms wrapped around Dan’s waist, he rests his cheek on his wet belly, aware that he’s thinking, slowing his breath, formulating just the right words.

“I won’t need you as much Phil. I think that’s true. I already need you less than I used to.” He rakes long fingers through silky black hair. “It will take time but the goal is that I won’t need you at all.”

Phil looks up at Dan, knowing there’s more.

“But I will always want you.”

There’s a sharp rush of breath from Phil as he lays his head down again. He knows this, he knows all of this, just as he always has.

“Dan, can you just say that again?”

“I’ll say it everyday, if that makes you ok.” He shoves Phil back a bit and slides back into the water, pulling pale skin close to revel in the contrast that makes them who they are. Phil’s head on his shoulder now, Dan continues to comb through his hair because he knows it comforts him.

He speaks soft but clear at Phil’s ear, “I will always want you Phil. I will always love you. We only get better from here, yeah?”

Phil nods into Dan’s neck and nuzzles in, peppering damp skin in wet kisses. He murmurs I love yous into his collarbone and feels their bodies respond like there had been no pause. It was only a few words, a look or two, and now this, but it’s almost enough. They end up tangled together on the tropical cushions of the poolside chaise. Dan tries to be quiet but Phil pulls the sounds he needs to hear out of him. He makes no mistakes. There is gentle conviction in every touch, alongside respect and love and primal desire that can’t be feigned. Just one last absolute assurance that there is something transcendent about the two of them together. They chose each other when they were young and incomplete and it didn’t seem like a choice at all. And now, with every possibility in front of each of them, they’ll still choose each other every single day.

#phanfic #Sometimes Always #myfic

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unfortunate-lore · 5 years

Text

Would you be my boyfriend?

Also on AO3

Kenma checked his phone for the third time in the last two minutes. Time wasn’t moving fast enough for him. He continued to pace and check his phone, eyes searching the crowd of people. All in an attempt to find that bright orange hair. He couldn’t even remember the exact time Shouyou’s flight came in. Only that he was here in the same country as Kenma.

Kenma peaked over the heads of travelers walking through. Finally seeing Shouyou’s bright orange hair wearing an even brighter smile on his face. Kenma felt lucky for having those few minutes to admire that dumb smile right before Shouyou noticed him. Shouyou was fixing the front of his jacket and fiddling with his hair. Shouyou pushed the palm of his hand to slick it down in what looked like an attempt to smooth it. When it popped back up Shouyou frowned, making Kenma laugh to himself.

Shouyou’s eyes found his and he broke out into a wide grin. Shoving past people, he ran down the steps, making a leaping jump on the last step. Kenma braced his arms on either side of him waiting for the inevitable. Shouyou immediately embraced him in a tight warm hug. Kenma could feel his feet leave the floor as Shouyou lifted him into the air.

Kenma had not worked out since high school. Any muscle mass forming then was replaced by soft, squishy skin. Shouyou, however, had done nothing but exercise. And Kenma could feel the defined arm muscles squeeze into his sides.

Kenma felt faint and a little dizzy after that spin. He blamed it on just the spin. Not the light headed happy feelings blossoming in his mind.

Shouyou beamed at him, smile looking brighter against tan skin. Kenma knew that he was blushing. He turned his head off to the side, “Is that your luggage?”

Shouyou nodded, “Are you ready to take me to your home?”

“Yeah,” Kenma lowered his head, hiding his smile.

The walk to the train station wasn’t a quiet one. Nothing was ever quiet with Shouyou around. And Kenma couldn’t be happier. Shouyou pulled out his phone sharing all of the pictures Kenma had already seen. Kenma listened to all the stories attached, weird sound effects and all.

Kenma pulled away from his gaze on Shouyou when he feels fingers against his. Looking down he saw Shouyou slyly working his hand into his.

Kenma pulled away slightly, noticing the frown on Shouyou’s face in the middle of his story. Kenma wrapped his fingers between Shouyou’s and he froze mid sentence.

“How have you been, Kenma?” Shouyou turned all of his attention to him.

Kenma nodded, “I’ve been fine.” Kenma pulled Shouyou through check in and they crammed onto the train. Standing practically face to face, Kenma felt overwhelmed.

Kenma knows Shouyou noticed his uncomfortable frown being so close to different bodies. He continued to tell his stories. Kenma isn’t sure if he’s doing it to be nice or because he just likes hearing his voice.

Once off the train Kenma leads them to his shared apartment. Kuroo was still at work which left the apartment empty. Kenma’s thoughts went to places he didn’t expect just thinking about being alone with Shouyou.

Shouyou found Kenma’s bed and splayed out onto it. Rolling onto his back Shouyou reached his arms out. Kenma sat down next to him. Similar to a cat Shouyou curled up into Kenma’s side.

“Are you going to purr too?” Kenma wondered out loud.

Shouyou smiled against the side of his leg, “Only if you want me to.” Kenma immediately filed that under his ‘save later’ file.

Shouyou smiled wide and bounced back up. Kenma knew that smile. He could read Shouyou’s face in almost anything that he did. Kenma knew the words that were about to fall out of his mouth probably before Shouyou did.

“Let’s explore,” He leapt out of bed.

Only Shouyou could be on a plane and want to travel some more, Kenma thought. He watched as Shouyou undressed unabashed in front of him. Kenma felt like he didn’t blink the entire experience. Shouyou turned to face him as he was pulling on a clean shirt and grinned.

Kenma blushed and pretended he was watching a less interesting poster.

Together they headed out into the city. The sun had just set and Shouyou kept yawning. Kenma felt like he could barely keep up. Shouyou first stopped at a ramen shop, eyeing the menu.

“Miss Japanese food?” Kenma nudged Shouyou closer to the shop.

The excited look on Shouyou’s face made Kenma think he was having heart palpitations. “And being Japanese men!”

“So you have a type,” Kenma sat at the bar.

“Sure do,” Shouyou wasn’t even drinking but his voice boomed throughout the area, “Small, quiet, and Japanese. What can I say? I’m a simple man.”

“Simple is right,” Kenma ordered for them both.

They teased each other some more and Kenma ordered them beer. Surprised Shouyou hadn’t actually tried it before. Kenma felt warm and full as they fell right back into how they were before he left.

Whatever that was defined as.

Kenma was still left unsure. It’s not like his interest was in anyone else. And Shouyou never expressed liking anyone but Kenma. It was all so confusing.

Kenma shared his life, though he was sure Shouyou knew all the important parts. Finishing college, starting a job, and deciding to live with Kuroo were all major events. But Shouyou took it all in as if it were new information. Something about being able to say things face to face made it seem more real.

Once done, SHouyou dragged them to their next stop which was a convenience store. Shouyou breathed in the air and went to collect his favorite snacks.

“I’m starting to think you missed food the most,” Kenma teased.

Shouyou turned to Kenma, eyes staring directly into his, “I missed you.”

Kenma took a step back feeling embarrassed, “You’re allowed to miss more than one thing.”

Shouyou paused, placing his hand on his chin in classic thinking mode. He then moved hand held basket further up his forearm. Holding his hands out and counted out loud, “Japanese food, Mom, Natsu, Kageyama, Yachi, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, and Kenma.”

Kenma pulled out a random assortment of chips throwing them into Shouyou’s basket. “C’mon,” Kenma tugged on his sleeve.

They checked out and walked back home. Still on a crowded street they bumped shoulders instead of holding hands. Kenma brushed the back of his hand against Shouyou’s hand. He soaked in the warmth radiating off of Shouyou’s body.

Arriving home Kenma ran Shouyou a bath. While he was bathing Kuroo came home holding take-out.

“Figured you and your boyfriend already ate so,” He sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. Even with the TV on Kenma could feel Kuroo’s eyes burrowing holes into the side of his face. Kenma repeated the word in his head.

“Boyfriend,” Kuroo said aloud.

If Kenma had one superpower it would be the power to shut Kuroo up with his galre. Kuroo laughed to himself in response.

The bathroom door opened and Shouyou came out. He greeted Kuroo, thanking him for allowing him to stay with them. Kenma felt like a creep staring at Shouyou. He watched a drop of water fall from Shouyou’s hair and down his cheek. Shouyou always seemed to have a ray of light surrounding hikm. His big eyes turned to stare directly at him. Kenma had to turn away in fear of being blinded.

“You’re drooling,” Kuroo whispered. He then turned to Shouyou to ask about his training. It gave Kenma the distraction he needed to bathe himself.

In the bath Kenma couldn’t help but think about that stupid word. “Boyfriend,” He said out loud to the empty room. He repeated it. It seemed like such a far away concept. They talked daily, held hands, went out together. But boyfriend would be labeling it into something more.

Permission to ask for more things. Kissing, sharing a bed and not just a room, and so much more. Boyfriends would mean different introductions, telling friends. Boyfriends would mean being in love.

Kenma felt like he was in love. His world was separated from Shouyou’s world. He was his own being. His own person. He had his own thoughts and worries. He liked living a simple life of going to work and coming home to play video games or relax with his best friend and his cat.

But he wanted Shouyou to be a part of all that. He wanted to share his being, share his space, his friends. He wanted to share his worries, his life, his cat.

Kenma got out of the bath. It was leading to dangerous thoughts.

Thoughts about love.

Kenma was in love. The kind of love that was crushing. Making his heart feel as if it could shatter if everything fell apart. The kind of love that swallowed him whole. The kind of love that made him feel whole.

Shouyou was still on the couch with Kuroo when he came out. Together they were noisier than Kenma and Kuroo had ever been. They sat and watched a movie. Kenma squeezed between the two of them on the much too small couch.

Kenma could hear his heart in his ears. He barely paid attention to whatever sitcom Kuroo put on. He could only focus on the way Shouyou took up space next to him. Shouyou’s knee bounced anxiously against Kenma’s thigh. When something funny happened on TV he let out a full body laugh.

Sometime in the night Kuroo went to bed with a supportive pat on his friend’s shoulder. Kenma thought about moving over, giving Shouyou more space. But the braver part of him, the part of him Shouyou always brought out, decided to stay.

And the ever so exciting, interesting Hinata Shouyou reached over and grabbed his hand. With only the noise of the TV they sat hand in hand. Kenma wanted to memorize the feeling of Hiniata’s hands. The hands that worked so hard every day for the last two years. The hands that were rough and calloused from years of training, years of fighting. Kenma slowly rubbed his thumb across the side of Shouyou’s hand. Shouyou’s grip tightened and Kenma knew that he wasn’t paying attention to the TV. Shouyou’s face was hyper-focused, eyes searching for something Kenma couldn’t see.

“Shouyou,” Kenma blinked at him. In a feat that surprised even him he said, “I missed you.”

Feeling the confidence and buzz of adrenaline, Kenma leaned in. Shouyou, much more excited, hurried in to press their mouths together.

#kenhina #haikyuu!!

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thesinglesjukebox · 5 years

Video

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ARIANA GRANDE, MILEY CYRUS & LANA DEL REY - DON'T CALL ME ANGEL

[3.69]

"Independent Women Part III: No Throttle"...

Josh Buck: Absolutely not. [2]

Katie Gill: "Don't Call Me Angel" is a fun piece of movie credits music. There's nothing special here, but it's a jam of a song that would fit perfectly well in the already established oeuvre of middle-of-the-road yet totally serviceable movie tie-in songs. Two of the singers know exactly what sort of song they're in and give it the sultry, radio-friendly, sexy spin the song needs. The third is Lana Del Rey and her inclusion BAFFLES me. This is so far out of her wheelhouse that it's hilarious. Seriously, was Selena Gomez busy or something? The music video for Demi Lovato's "Confident" was practically an audition piece for this type of thing, why the heck isn't she here? [6]

Thomas Inskeep: Ariana does some Grande karaoke, Miley sounds like she'd rather be singing "I Love Rock 'n' Roll," and Lana teleports in to do another take on her breathy schtick (and brings the song to a screeching halt in the process) -- nothing about this, apart from (I imagine) someone's discussion of market share, makes any sense. There's no cohesion here. There's barely even a song. [2]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: So, so, so cringeworthy. Ariana, Miley and Lana sound like reality music TV contestants who were forced to make a song together one week, couldn't get on the same page and ran out of time to rehearse, but had to release something anyways. Ariana is awkward and lonely on the hook, like she's waiting for help that never comes; Miley comes out of nowhere with a cloying shouted verse; and Lana is off in another world mumbling incomprehensible nonsense. Even the backing track has a nervous manic energy. If you want a good song about Charli(e)'s angels, just listen to this instead. [3]

Michael Hong: In high school, I worked on a group project where the only times we met up were when we decided upon a topic and to actually present the whole piece. Rather expectedly, the whole thing fell apart rather quickly and it was a completely embarrassing experience. "Don't Call Me Angel," gives off the same vibe, like Ariana Grande, Miley Cyrus, and Lana Del Rey were each given only the title and asked to write something vaguely empowering for women. Each artist sounds like they wrote for a different track and made absolutely no effort to meld styles, instead forcing the producers to try and mash the entire thing together. Even the chorus buries Miley and Lana completely beneath Ariana, perhaps rather wisely as I can't see the group's vocal tones meshing together very well. "Don't Call Me Angel" survives only through the one thing my group never had, natural charisma. [3]

Alex Clifton: How did Ari, Miley and Lana end up in this? I guess it echoes the three Charlie's Angels but this trio doesn't make sense. I can see how individual duets would've worked; Ari and Lana could've done something slow and spacy, Ari and Miley taking a more upbeat route, Lana and Miley singing something retro. This, sadly, doesn't play to anyone's strengths and just ends up being overproduced mush with a decent riff. If I had to pick any artist who could make this song make sense, it would be Rihanna, and the music video would be her in thirteen different outfits kicking ass. [3]

Joshua Copperman: I didn't realize how dated the Max Martin sound was until hearing "Don't Call Me Angel." Pop music is now either created with substance(s) or has substance thrust upon it. Meanwhile, the lyrics are clunkier than ever, "you know we fly/but don't call me angel" no longer endearing melodic math but shallow feminist lip service at a time when "if you feel like a girl/then you real like a girl" can sneak onto a major label record. It's the first time I can't listen to a Martin production without thinking of this unexpectedly poignant stand-up segment about Martin and Cosmopolitan. When the tropical house is so bland, further lyrics stick out more; Miley's pre-chorus ("Do I really need to say it/Do I need to say it again") is lazy, and Ari's vampire metaphors are just baffling. Lana comes out strongest, someone who seldom charts but has more cultural relevance than the former and is much hipper than the latter. Her verse is classy when Ari is unmemorable and Miley cribs from a Rihanna album reject from four years ago. "Angel", though, feels like a reject from 2013, when Miley was in her imperial phase and Ari was just breaking out from Nickelodeon -- in fact, it probably would have had Rihanna instead of Lana at that time. But no matter what trio, one thing is clear: with this lemon, you cannot make Marmalade. [3]

Katherine St Asaph: Remember, "Independent Women Part I" stopped the otherwise great song dead on the bridge to announce it was commissioned for CHARLIE'S AAAAAAANGELS, so "Don't Call Me Angel" earns points already for not doing that. It keeps its product placement to outside context, namely the fact that the song exists despite the three artists having little in common besides having stanbases and sniping at critics. The disparate styles can work together -- see the "Lady Marmalade" remake, unfairly maligned except by a few -- but here there are only anti-synergies. Miley's verse can't decide if she wants to be the track's Mya or the Pink (probably the better idea), but its bluntness also best fits the backing track. Ariana's sighed, harmonized "angel" is a great millennial R&B hook, but one that outside of an R&B song is starved for air. Lana's bridge, though a complete non-sequitur and only empowering if you squint, is also the most sonically charged thing she's done in ages; if there isn't a reason Lana Del Rey hasn't worked with Max Martin beyond "Lust for Life" (I suspect that there is), that wouldn't be the worst career direction. Everyone's part diminishes everyone else's, the exact opposite of what you need from an event single or a Charlie's Angels shine-theory ad. [5]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Every big pop collab feels a little unnecessary -- pop stars work based on the idea that they're the center of the universe, and collaborations by their very nature make that seem silly. But this sounds really, really unnecessary. Two artists coming off career highs (and one coming off of "Cattitude") should at least drive some head-to-head comparison, but none of the three credited artists interact in any meaningful way. It's the Batman V. Superman of pop music -- conflict and chemistry built mostly on reputation rather than action, with nothing to defend unless you're an unabashed stan. [2]

Joshua Lu: In which Lana Del Rey learns that her reward for releasing her magnum opus is the opportunity to limp through a thank u, next reject. Ariana Grande and Miley Cyrus's voices already feel unbalanced, but Lana's mushy croons are so inapposite that they grind the song to a halt. [3]

Scott Mildenhall: It rattles along satisfyingly, but this never leaves the marks that the intermittent brass punctuation seems to signify. None of that is aided by how Del Rey, unbending in her lack of persona, has to be deployed in the manner of a guest rapper, wheeled on and off through a side door. The inability to sound at home with her collaborators in the way they do with each other is one thing, but the inability to sound anything other than lifeless in the face of them is another, and that's the precise opposite of what's called for. [6]

Will Adams: As out of place as she may seem on paper, Lana's bridge is the only point where the song becomes interesting: the key dips even more minor, and the arrangement has tangible cinematic sweep. The rest is a cluttered shamble of an Ariana Grande album cut, with her and Cyrus trading off lines with all the dubious empowerment of a Barb Wire quote. [4]

Jackie Powell: All right folks get ready for a sports metaphor, because it's coming. Ariana Grande is a bit of a ball hog on this track. What she doesn't seem to understand is if you are going to lead your team, you've got to provide the proper assist to each of your teammates. To me, saving Del Rey until the two-minute mark supports the idea that these "angels" aren't really meant to work together. I thought the purpose of this was to present a team of strong women looking to take on the world via a song that preaches empowerment for this new wave of both feminism and Charlie's Angels films. Where a point guard should pass the ball and set up her teammates on the wings (no pun intended) and under the rim, Grande instead takes all of the shots. When the mic is pointed toward Cyrus after Grande's opening hook, though, she shoots with simultaneous finesse and power, letting her head voice mix well with the potent sound in her chest. If I was reviewing the visual made to accompany "Don't Call Me Angel," Hannah Lux Davis' treatment would receive a [10]. Grande, Cyrus and Del Rey all exude a mystique, ooze sex and expel power. For a Charlie's Angels theme song, that's right on the money. But what confuses me lyrically is how the hook clearly communicates the theme, even nodding to Destiny's Child, but the verses, bar maybe Cyrus', are underwhelming. The clock-tower cowbell loop that runs through and through grabs my attention, but I think Kristen Stewart could write better poetry. [6]

[Read and comment on The Singles Jukebox]

#Lana Del Rey #Ariana Grande #Miley Cyrus #Charlie's Angels #pop #music #music review #writing

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illuminatingcomics · 6 years

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Some anon asked me what I thought of The Life of Captain Marvel, and jokes on you, I was already deep into writing this.

What the fuck was this bullshit?! And here I was sorta of optimistic reading the preview. I guess I was hypnotized by Marguerite Sauvage’s heartbreakingly beautiful artwork, about the only saving grace of this melodramatic fuckfest of an issue.

THE PLOT

It’s father’s day, and while dealing with a weirdly matched band of supervillains, Carol has Vietnam-tier flashbacks of a family vacation that sends her into a frenzy. She decides to visit her old family summer home to try and deal with this baggage. Really badly written tragedy strikes, and she decides to linger, making some weird discoveries along the way.

THE BULLSHIT

Ok, this issue was mostly bland and trite, but what was really bad, what really made me angry, was the whole heap of bullshit and retcons surrounding Carol’s family. Ever since she got promoted to Captain Marvel, writer after writer tried their hardest to give her a supporting cast, all seemingly oblivious to the fact that she had a mother and a brother just hanging in limbo that could easily be the source of any number of stories. I’ve been waiting since 2008, ten fucking years, to see Carol reunite with her family, and now I got monkey pawned I guess.

Let’s start with her dad. Let me tell you something about Joseph Danvers: he was an ASSHOLE, a dick, a stubborn fool, but you know, he was also a brave man. When Claremont’s introduces him the first time, we see him risk his own life to save the one of another man, and he stands up to crooked criminals that want to run him out of business. He was pigheaded, yes, but he was also a good person deep down, a hardworker who simply didn’t know how to deal with his daughter, and part of the charm was seeing Carol both grow out of her animosity with him and simultaneously realize she got a lot of her temper from him, all in the span of a couple of issues, because Claremont is what we call in these circles “a good writer”, and made a character that had a little bit of texture to him.

Then Brian Reed’s came along and made him an alcoholic. Ms. Marvel v2 #31. I cut Reed’s a lot of slack, but that was frankly unnecessary. Still, ok, it tied to Carol’s harder, and he’s portrayed as a self-destructing kind of alcoholic rather than actively malicious with everybody, and it was after his beloved eldest’s death, so you could understand he was completely broken...

But here comes Margaret Stohl people, and according to her, Joseph Danvers was always an unabashed abuser who screwed up his children’s childhood, and Carol can’t even bring herself to THINK about him without going in a berserker rage and suffer a cardiac arrest! Why do this? What’s the point? Not only it is clichéd as hell, overused to the point of meaninglessness, it adds nothing to Carol’s character, except more empty soap opera angst. She already has countless other sources of drama and pain in her past, is an abusive dad really necessary? And God, what the fuck is up with Marvel and dads?! They pulled the same shit with Joseph Rogers (how many joseph are there?) turning a problem with the bottle mentioned in passing into a full blown stereotypical irish knuckle fest. Can’t wait for the day Uncle Ben gets it, that’ll be fun.

I feel bad, like it’s my fault, because months ago, I complained about Stohl writing of Joe Danvers in Mighty Captain Marvel #0. There, she had significantly mellowed out the scene where he tells her she wasn’t going to college and just needed to find a husband. I said he didn’t look like the stubborn dick I remembered, but a dopey, oblivious dude... It’s like, Stohl saw my post, decided I was making a good point, and went all the way into the other direction... This alone should tell us how much care and attention goes into forging these stories these day, how clear and laid out the direction for each character is! Last year Joseph Danvers was just a moron with a pot belly, now he’s the King of Punchville, population: my kids. Maybe he’s not actually Joseph Danvers, but some skrull impostor, it would explain the absence of his awesome stache.

Then there’s Joe Jr... I didn’t believe it was possible to fuck up a character that, before this issue, had TWO balloons of spoken dialogue across six decades of history, but somehow they did. First of all: HE’S YOUNGER THAN CAROL NOT OLDER. How do you fuck that up?! He’s the third child, she’s the second! Yet Carol calls him big brother, and he’s portrayed as bigger and taller than her in flashbacks. Look, I know Ike Perlmutter pays editors in stale bread and wedgies, but come on, it took me five minutes to double check it!

Besides that: Joe Jr was a complete blank slate, you could’ve done literally ANYTHING with him, and what happens? He gets fucking FRIDGED. Slams his car and becomes a vegetable so Carol has an excuse to linger in her family home... it feels like his head trauma is just there to have a time-skip, so that Carol’s hair grows to resemble Brie Larson’s length, just in time for the fucking movie! Like, are you kidding me? How wasteful is that? I mean, with how this issue ended, it’s entirely possible they’re going to have magic alien tech or some shit to fix him up, but still, I’m not holding my breath.

Finally, there’s Marie, Carol’s mom. Yup, there she is. She’s just there. She’s always been just there. Nobody seems to know what to do with her. She was always the quiet, sweet housewife that wasn’t quite sure how to handle her husband histrionics except be patient and supporting. That character trait still lingers, but now that Joseph graduated in open abusiveness, her patient looks criminal. At least, when they made Steve’s dad abusive, it was to showcase Sarah Rogers’ strength of character, how she boldly and proudly stood up to her husband’s abuse... here, Marie Danvers just tells her daughter to pipe it down while her husband wails on her children. She’s a goddamn enabler. One change, two characters ruined.

The fact that Carol has been brain wiped not once but twice, is completely disregarded, which is absurd, because it’s the biggest and most profound source of emotional turmoil she has! When Brian Reed wrote the story revolving around it, it was heartbreaking! Carol’s loss of memory, having her show up at her family house, realizing she doesn’t know these people, that she should feel anger, and love, and rage, and sadness, but nothing comes up, because she has nothing left.

In TLofCM, this feeling of alienation is never brought up, it’s only ever barely hinted at. Her mindwipe isn’t mentioned, just tangentially referred to, and it’s treated like the reason Carol never shows up to her old home is that the memories of her dad are too painful. Great job guys, you took Carol’s very specific and interesting source of pain and replaced it with daddy’s issues. Plus, as I mentioned, IRL it’s been ten years since Carol met her family. In canon at least a couple must’ve passed, yet this separation is barely mentioned. Her mother welcomes her to their summer home with the warmth you’d expect if they met like once a week or once a month, where she should’ve gone “Where the fuck have you been?!”. Joe Jr is the only one that brings it up, and it still feels way too casual.

Now, let’s finally speak about Carol. I really hope I won’t sound like an arrogant prick, but reading earlier issues of Margaret Stohl’s run, I once tweeted “this is something I would write if I lacked any self-awareness”. Nothing is more true than in this issue, where Carol acts like a unhinged psychopath in the most worrying of ways. We see her snap and downright punch her FATHER’S TOMBSTONE into pieces. I mean, I was shocked! What the fuck?! Who does this? How is she going to explain this to her mother?! To her brother?! How much of a mental trainwreck do you have to be to go this far? Hating your dad is one thing, desecrating a cemetery is another one entirely! And at the beginning of the issue she brutalizes Moonstone, with the Avengers just idly standing by the side quipping about it... GUYS THIS IS NO LAUGHING MATTER, Carol is suffering another breakdown. Also no laughing matter is what happened to Carol’s brother, but the tone this book has is way too carefree and light to properly deal with it. Every single dialogue Carol has is coated with some matter of snappy comeback, or clever line. It creates an ironic distance that doesn’t allow the drama to unfold.

Look, ok, this is just the very first issue, and the ending seems to imply there was something more going on with Carol’s dad, but that just fills me with even more dread, suddenly we’re bringing in more spaceshit! We’ve been seeing Carol deal with trite spaceshit for years now, this could’ve been a down to earth, emotional, quiet miniseries focusing entirely on Carol’s family life and childhood, but no, there’s still conspiracies and mysterious glowing gadgets and space foetuses, and god knows what matter of absurdist retcon awaiting us.

Off on a great start.

#the life of captain marvel #captain marvel #carol danvers #margaret stohl #marvel comics #review #rant #ANGRISH

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