#AND ALSO STEVE GOT HIS DREAM JOB AS A DETECTIVE!!!!!!!!
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#Draws#BluesClues#BluesCluesAndYou#NickJr#click or tap on the text to be redirected to the sneak peek where Steve and Joe make an appearance!#Josh needed the help that he can get from his cousins UWU#also I'm still not over this#and how Steve said that he wanted to talk to his friend out there#wEEps sO grOSSLy#AND ALSO STEVE GOT HIS DREAM JOB AS A DETECTIVE!!!!!!!!#YAS KING!!!!
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Down By The Docks
Bucky Barnes x Male Reader
Word Count: 1810
This is inspired by another request, from an anon this time.
The idea is a '40's AU. I wasn't totally sure if that meant they wanted a story totally set in the 1940's or something that just didn't reference the war, or pretended the war wasn't on/our characters aren't involved in the war, so I just picked one.
Hope this is what you wanted anon!
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Bucky Barnes was one of the best looking fellas Y/n had ever laid eyes on, of that he was sure. It was only his second day working down on the docks, but he was sure he could happily spend the rest of his life working this menial job if the view never changed.
He was always quick with a smile for a pretty dame or even, Y/n had noticed, a particularly handsome fella.
Y/n had thought for sure he had imagined seeing his 'impressing a pretty dame' smile aimed at the bloke who had delivered a sack of letters to the area they were working in.
He would have written it off as the heat getting to him if not for that very same smile being directed his way later that day while they were all sitting around eating their lunches.
None of the other's seemed to have picked up Bucky's brazen flirting with both genders, or maybe they just didn't care. That last one seemed pretty unlikely though.
Y/n just hiked up a brow at Bucky the second time he shot him that pretty smile. He had no idea what to do with that. It couldn't be helped that it was illegal to be that way, that was just the way of the world.
--------------
Y/n was sure that Bucky was trying to kill him.
He had shown up to work wearing his standard work wear. Just the worn whites and browns of clothes that had been washed too many times but that you couldn't afford to throw out yet.
It just wasn't fair that the day was particularly warm, so everyone had ended up stripped down to their pants. All those half naked male bodies glimmering with sweat, the noises they made unconsciously as they lifted boxes full of cargo and moved them to where they needed to go.
And right there, in the middle of it all, Bucky Barnes. Poor Y/n had ended up being sent home from being 'affected by the sun'. It wasn't his fault dammit, Bucky had been parading around looking good enough to eat. Y/n was ashamed to find himself literally walking into poles and walls in his preoccupation with the half naked Bucky.
----------
Y/n sighed in relief. Tonight was going to be blessedly free of one Bucky Barnes, perpetual thorn in his gay side.
He was going out to a bar. It was an open secret that this particular bar was a gay bar. The cops in that area were happy to turn a blind eye to it largely because several of them were known regulars there.
That didn't mean you could just go about talking about it, or anything that went on inside it while you weren't there.
It was still illegal after all.
Y/n leaned back into his booth and sighed happily. A nice drink, some eye candy that wouldn't beat the crap out of him just for giving them the eye, and a little dancing ought to make his worries just float away.
Y/n had been looking forward to this all week.
Damn Barnes to hell and back.
Y/n moved over to the bar to order himself something silly. He was feeling the need for some ridiculousness tonight.
He had just taken his first sip of his drink when he spotted him. There he was, standing by the bar just a little ways down from Y/n, seemingly ordering a drink.
Y/n tried valiantly to not spit his mouthful of booze all over the bar. He had paid good money for that drink and he would be damned if he wasted it.
It didn't work very well. Some of it ended up coming out of his nose, and as he hacked up the parts of it that went down the wrong pipe to choke him, the rest dribbled down his chin.
'Well, that was attractive,' Y/n thought drily.
"Oh gosh, are you alright? Here, let me help."
Y/n turned watering eyes on the man addressing him.
He was met with a short blond who looked like a stiff wind could knock him over if he wasn't careful.
He was holding out a handkerchief and looking unsure of himself.
Y/n went to reassure the stranger that he was fine, but some small remaining part of the drink that hadn't been attempting to kill him before chose that moment to do so. Instead of words, he could only hack and cough, trying to get the liquid out of his lungs.
Y/n felt a hand on his back moving in firm circles, trying to help. He looked back over at the man to find him at his side frowning as he rubbed at Y/n's back.
When Y/n could finally speak properly he took the handkerchief, which had once again been offered, to clean his face of tears and spit and snot.
'Who'd have thought that alcohol burned so badly going into a person's nose and lungs?' Y/n thought disgustedly.
When he had cleaned himself up properly and turned back to his savior he suddenly realised he had no idea how to make this situation any less awkward.
The other man apparently had no such reservations.
"I'm Steve by the way. That looked pretty painful. Are you okay now?"
He was so earnest, and it didn't look like he was laughing at Y/n at all, so he could only nod vaguely.
"Yeah, I was just surprised by something. I'm Y/n, just so you know."
Y/n paused, feeling every bit as awkward as he ever had.
"Um, after that bit of excitement, I think I'm gonna call it a night. Murderous drinks aside it was nice meeting you. Can I clean this and bring it back here some time for you Steve?"
Y/n held up the thoroughly soaked handkerchief, cringing internally.
"Oh, don't worry about it, but are you sure you don't want to stay for a little bit longer? I'm here with my friend, but he's never very good company when there's dancing and alcohol involved."
Y/n mulled it over for a second, before manners kicked in.
"Yeah, no worries. I could stay for a bit longer, if only to save you from a lonely evening."
Steve's smile was sweet, but Y/n also couldn't detect anything else behind it. It didn't seem like he was trying to hit on Y/n, just that he didn't want to spend the night alone while his 'friend' danced the night away.
Y/n followed behind Steve as he led him over to the booth that Y/n had originally been sitting in.
Y/n stopped still at the sight of who was sitting across from Steve. Bucky dang-it-all-to-heck Barnes.
At their approach, Bucky turned away from the two women sitting with him in the booth. His handsome face lit up when he registered who it was standing in front of him.
"Stevie, there you are. I was starting to think you ditched me earlier than ever, but look what you found. I should bring you here more often."
Steve just gave Bucky a blank look.
Y/n couldn't blame him. If his 'good friend' had taken him out for a night of fun, he wouldn't have appreciated him looking at other guys that way either. He wasn't exactly backward in letting people know he was interested from the sounds of it.
Y/n stood awkwardly by the booth, not really sure if he should still be there. He had followed Steve to keep him company, but if it were him in Steve's shoes right now, he'd want him to leave.
"Um, I think I should probably head off actually."
Steve turned back to Y/n looking confused.
"Oh, well if you're sure. You don't have to stay if you don't want to of course."
Y/n refused to acknowledge the fact that Bucky was honest to goodness pouting. Was there anything in this world that was fair?
"Well, at least let me walk you out."
There would be no arguing apparently, as Bucky was already out of his seat and herding Y/n to the door.
"It was nice meeting you!" Y/n barely managed to turn to yell to Steve as he was pulled away by the ever insistent Bucky.
Once they made it outside Bucky paused and turned to face Y/n.
"Hey."
Y/n turned to face him.
"Gotta say, I'm gettin' a bit confused here."
Y/n frowned but stayed silent.
"When we met at work I thought you were pretty cute, but you don't hit on people down by the docks if you wanna live to see the next sunrise, you know? But then you were always starin' an I thought, maybe you mighta been interested. Then that day you kept walkin' into things happened and I was pretty dang sure you were."
Y/n was blushing by now.
'Great so he did notice.'
"But then I see you here."
Bucky had moved closer and lowered his voice, speaking softer.
"An, no offense to Stevie, but he's not exactly every guys dream-boat. You know, I don't even think he knows this is a gay bar."
He broke off here to chuckle quietly. He was standing so close, he was practically pressing Y/n up against the wall of the bar.
"But then you're actin' all stand-offish. Like you can't even bare to look at me. So, what's a guy to think?"
Bucky seems to realise how this might be coming across and pulls away to give Y/n some room.
"Do I got a shot with you Y/n?"
Y/n had been floating somewhere dreamy with Bucky pressed up so close to him, but when he pulled away, reality came crashing down. How dare he ask questions like that when Steve was in there waiting for him to get back?
"You got some nerve Barnes. You can't just ask anyone out. Not when you got a fantastic guy like that waiting for you in there!"
"Fantastic guy? What-"
Y/n cut him off before he could sweet talk his way out of this.
"Steve! He's sweet, and kind and probably way too good for someone who flirts with everyone on the block!"
Bucky was laughing, which Y/n thought was way out of line.
"Wha, Y/n, Steve's just a friend. He don't even swing that way."
Y/n's face lit up with the brightest blush he had ever felt. He was sure he was going to actually self-combust before long.
"Oh."
"Yeah. So is that why you looked at me like that?"
He moved closer again, and when he spoke that damned silver tongue was back.
"I would never. When I'm with someone, they're the most important person in the world to me. Besides, how could I ever look my ma in the face again if I treated my partner like that?"
Y/n blushed fiercely.
"So whaddya say? Give me a shot?"
Y/n could only nod, face still a brilliant red.
#Bucky barnes x male reader#Bucky barnes#James barnes x male reader#james barnes#Male reader#marvel fanfiction
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Lifer
Hawaii Five-0 Prompt Drabble:
Keyword: Retired
Word Count: 852
Once again there is no beta so there will be typos.
Danny had just been kidding himself when he thought of retirement. He knew deep down that it was a pipe dream or maybe wishful thinking. Standing on Steve’s lanai he watched as a storm rolled in. Chuckling darkly to himself Danny lifted another board over the windows; he was still looking after the place after his partner went on his soul quest several months earlier. He came and went, made sure no one broke in, protected it during storms such as these, and sometimes he even showed up when he just wanted some peace.
Hammering several nails into place Danny cocked his head when he heard Junior quickly thump down the stairs. That was something everyone had been doing lately that he was secretly thankful for. Making sure that he wasn’t startled or snuck up on, something Junior learned the hard way. Danny grimaced at the memory; he had broken the poor kids nose and he was beside himself with regret and worry, apologizing long after the incident had occurred. He knew no one blamed him but he also couldn’t help but notice they treated him differently. Like broken glass to step around. Danny huffed, he wasn’t broken, thank you very much. He was just a little…cracked.
He was mad at first, at Steve for leaving the way he did. After a while, he had become depressed and even closed off - though the team fixed that right away by always being around. Then understanding hit him like a punch to the gut after getting a package in the mail one day. Steve had sent him a postcard and pictures and little knick knacks that represented his travels. Steve looked happy and carefree it made a tension – that Danny didn’t even know that he had — release.
Like they said, time heals all wounds. More or less. Sure those wounds leave scars and during bad weather, you can feel them with a deep ache that would eventually be dull enough to get through.
Shaking the board making sure it wouldn’t move Danny stepped back. Junior eased out onto the lanai and looked at the boarded up home with a sad smile. “She’s all ready for the storm,” he said, packing up the tools. Danny hummed and turned to look as lightning lit up the sky and thunder cracked overhead.
Lou had asked him if was going to retire after Steve left and Danny kept silent for a long time before answering. Told him honestly without the dramatics that he usually added to a typical conversation. It was like he told Steve years before, all he had was Grace and his job. Though that had changed somewhat with Charlie coming into his life. Now he had Grace - who was in California for school - Charlie - who was growing up so damn fast - and his job. It’s all he had.
If he retired Danny didn’t have the first clue on what to do. The restaurant was a bust from the start and Charlie was still in school and mostly with Rachel so he wouldn’t have anything to do until his days with him. Danny was certain he would go insane.
He ended up ranting anyway.
Lou just smiled at him and nodded, he lifted his beer in cheers. “You’re a lifer. I’m honestly not surprised.” he murmured and Danny smiled in agreement. Lifting his own Longboard he tapped it against Lou’s.
“Lifer,” he muttered with a nod.
“Danny?” The sound of his name brought him back to the present. It wasn’t Junior but Tani, she stood a few feet away from him wearing a sad smile. She held up his phone in her hand, waving it a little as it rang shrilly. Blinking Danny gave her a grin and took it; he must have left it inside.
“Detective Williams,”
Danny was silent as dispatch informed him of a body. Junior and Tani watched him from the doorway of the house poised and ready to go. Nodding Danny sighed, “Alright we’ll be there as soon as possible. Make sure CSU gets everything they can before the storm hits.”
Pocketing the device he turned to the two youngest Five-0 members, “We got a case boss?” Tani asked moving to lock up.
“Body up on the North Shore. We need to get going before we get hammered.”
Both Tani and Junior moved quickly in locking up the McGarrett home and out to Tani’s car which Junior decided he wanted to drive much to her annoyance and to Danny’s utter amusement. Sliding into his new deep Navy blue Camaro Danny gave the empty home one last look before pulling away.
His grandmother had said during a tough time, “There’s always a day after a storm.”
Smiling Danny raced down the highway with dark clouds at his back. Steve would return when he was ready and his Ohana would be there waiting. So all Danny could do for now was wait for tomorrow. Wait for his best friend to come home.
But nobody said he had to be a lump as he waited; he had a team to run after all.
#hawaii five 0#h50#h50 fandom#danny danno williams#danny williams#steve mcgarrett mention#lou grover#tani rey#junior reigns#prompt drabble#hailey the queen of typos#no beta
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Sinners ‘n Saints
Summary: When private detective Steve Rogers is hired to investigate the wife of a client who claims she is having an affair, he discovers some things are not quite adding up.
Word Count: 2208
Square Filled: 1940’s AU
Pairings: Helmut Zemo x Female Reader/ Steve x Female Reader (later)
Warnings: Infidelity, smoking, drinking, mild language, 40’s slang
Written for @star-spangled-bingo
New York City. The Big Apple. The city where dreams were made. For all her glitz and glamour, Lady New York held some dark secrets. Steve Rogers knew this well from his years of working as a private investigator, covering everything from missing persons to ransom cases.
One quite afternoon, Steve was pounding away at the keys of his typewriter, taking some time to document some of his toughest cases when a man entered his office. The gentleman’s hair was nicely combed; he was well dressed in a finely tailored suit, expensive Italian shoes and obnoxiously overpowering cologne. He walked over to Steve’s desk and sat in the vacant chair. He lit a cigarette and took a drag before addressing the detective.
“You are Detective Steve Rogers of ‘Rogers Private Eye Agency’, yes?” He spoke with an accent that Steve couldn’t quite place.
“I am. How can I help you?” he asked, pouring the man a glass of bourbon from the decanter on his desk. He thanked him and took a sip before introducing himself.
“My name is Helmut Zemo. I suspect my wife is having an affair...”
“I see... and what brought on this suspicion?” Steve always hated this part of the job. When spouses came to him with accusations of being unfaithful.
“It is just a hunch... for now. I would like you to find evidence soon.” Helmut placed an envelope full of cash on Steve’s desk. “Here is half of what I am willing to pay. You will receive the other half when you complete the job.”
Steve took the envelope and was shocked to see how much was in there. Helmut finished the drink, cringing as the amber liquid burned his throat and stood up.
“You may start this Friday. My wife will be singing at my club The Baron.” With that, he left.
The name suddenly clicked in Steve’s head. Helmut Zemo was a wealthy socialite who owned many nightclubs and made it into the gossip rags. There was something that didn’t sit right with Steve about the man; however, he would take jobs where he could.
That Friday, Steve went to The Baron for his night of surveillance. He took a table somewhere in the middle; close enough to see the action for himself but far enough back not to be noticeable. Steve looked around the joint, taking notice of his surroundings.
The place was classy. The furniture was polished with the highest sheen and drinks were served in the finest crystal. The large stage in front was obscured by a velvet red curtain which would no doubt be drawn when the entertainment would begin. As he scanned, he noticed a lot of high powered men who were rumoured to be part of a crime syndicate. Steve’s attention was broken when the announcer spoke.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage our very own nightingale Ms Y/N!”
As the curtain went up, the band began to play. Lying on top of the piano was the most stunning women Steve had ever seen. Her hair was done up in curls, pinned back with a diamond hairclip. Her lips were painted sinfully red and the second she opened her mouth, her honeyed, velvet voice poured out. Her black dress sparkled under the spotlight. As she sat up and crossed her legs, the split in her dress moved up, showing off her supple thigh. Men called and whistled at the sight.
Y/N gracefully jumped off the piano, her dress smoothing down her sides, the bottom pooling at her feet. He could now see the way how nicely it framed her curves; curves that would put Mae West to shame. Y/N made her way into the audience, her hips swaying seductively as she walked. She would place her gloved hand on the shoulder of one of the patrons, fingers running over the length of it before moving onto the next person. As she moved a little closer, Steve could see more of her diamond and pearl jewellery and smell her expensive perfume. A dame like this would certainly have no trouble attracting any man she wanted. When the song ended, she made her way back to the stage and finished up. The crowd burst into raucous applause and gave a standing ovation.
After the show, Y/N made her way over to the bar. Steve followed, placing himself far enough away not to be noticed. She ordered a drink and while waiting, a gentleman approached her.
“Hey, doll. Can I buy you a drink?” he smirked.
“No, sir,” she cooed, giving him a playful tap on the nose before taking her ready drink and heading backstage. The man was about to try further to coax her when his friend grabbed him.
“Are you crazy?! That’s Zemo’s missus. You want to be found on the bottom of the Hudson with cement shoes?!” The man’s eyes widened and headed off.
Steve pretended he didn’t hear the conversation and ordered a whisky neat.
“What’s the deal with the singer?” he casually asked the bartender.
“Oh, I wouldn’t waste your time with her. She’s only got eyes for her husband. A husband I might add with a mean jealous streak in him,” he said, pouring the drink and giving it to Steve.
This information made him think. If this information was true, why would Zemo contact him to find evidence of infidelity? Was Y/N the type of woman who liked to play dangerous games? From what he saw on stage, he wouldn’t put it past her. However if this were the case, why would she turn down the gentleman’s offer? Perhaps some things would be clearer in the light of day.
...
Throughout the week, Steve followed Y/N wherever she went at a distance. She filled her days with perfectly mundane tasks such as shopping, cleaning the house or the occasional trip to the salon. Every interaction she had with men was normal and innocent enough, all conversations at appropriate length. There were no signs of the captivating temptress Steve had observed at the club that night.
Her evenings were just as ordinary. The most exciting thing to happen was when she hosted a card game with her lady friends. Y/N spent most of her nights alone and when her husband did finally come home, she was greeted by a cold kiss on the cheek. Steve found this rather odd.
One night, Y/N was sitting at the table with dinner freshly made, patiently waiting for Helmut to come home. The phone rang and she happily ran to answer it. Her expression went from smiling to looking sad as she spoke to the person on the other end. When she hung up the phone, she returned to the table and held her face in her hands crying. Steve assumed that was her husband telling her he would not be home for dinner.
...
The following Friday, Steve went to the club once more and watched Y/N’s performance with fresh eyes. Yes, she was just as enticing but she was also professional. Steve suspected that this was the act of a strong woman who was trying to keep her marriage from falling apart while doing her job as the sultry nightclub singer. After the show, he noticed someone heading backstage with a large bouquet of flowers, presumably for Y/N. He quickly intercepted them and went to deliver them himself. Steve knocked on the door and waited for permission to enter before going in. Y/N was dressed in a silky robe and taking her hair out of its style. There was a red haired woman helping her that Steve saw around the club.
“Delivery for ma’am,” he said, holding out the flowers to her.
“Oh, thank you,” she smiled, taking them from him. “They’re beautiful.”
“Probably more guilt flowers,” Nat said bitterly.
“Nat, please...”
“Oh, wake up and smell the coffee, Y/N! Helmut is cheating on you!”
“Enough! He gives me flowers because he loves me! I’m one of the luckiest gals in the whole city! My husband showers me with jewellery and imported perfumes and-and expensive clothing because he loves me! Helmut loves me Natasha...” her voice became reverent and Steve wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince her friend or herself. How could he be so wrong about her? This was not a woman having an affair. This was a woman who was trying so desperately to believe that her husband was still faithful to her.
“Are you still here? Get out!” Nat barked at Steve, going to hug Y/N. He took this as his cue to leave. Maybe he should take a closer look at his employer.
...
Sure enough, as soon as Steve began to follow Helmut around, the evidence was as plain as the nose on your face. He saw the man with multiple women who were not his wife. He took pictures of them kissing and/or locked in a passionate embrace. Steve felt bad for Y/N and decided to go to her with the photographs.
...
Steve arrived on the Zemo’s doorstep, taking care to come over at a time he knew Helmut would not be home. Y/N was understandably surprised to see him but invited him in nonetheless.
“Mrs Zemo, my name is Steve Rogers and I’m a private detective. I... I’m afraid I have some bad news about your husband,” he said, handing her the envelope with the pictures. As Y/N looked through them so many emotions flashed across her face.
“Did Nat put you up to this?”
“No... Your husband did.”
“Wh-what?”
“He hired me to investigate the infidelity on your end but...”
“That bastard! First he disrespects the confines of our marriage bed and then he hurts me further by treating me like a common whore?!” Y/N threw a nearby vase against a wall in anger. Tears started flowing down her face
“Why would he do such a thing?”
“The fidelity clause... I come from a rich family and owning so many businesses, Helmut was rich too. Our lawyers though it was a good idea to protect our respective assets. If one of us was proven to be unfaithful, they would be able to take the other for everything.” Y/N dropped to her knees.
“I knew for a long for a long time I just... I thought if I told myself it wasn’t true, wished it hard enough that it wouldn’t come to light...” Steve carefully hugged her. She allowed him to, leaning into his warm touch. “He never used to be like this. I know he loved me once but I don’t know what happened.” Steve gave it some thought.
“I... I know someone in the paper. If you will allow me, I could give the story to him. He’d approach it tastefully...” Y/N was quiet for a few moments.
“Do it. I want him to feel as humiliated as I do. I want his name dragged through the mud as he has done with our wedding vows...” Y/N softly removed herself from Steve’s embrace and stood up, wiping her eyes and sniffling.
“I apologise for making a scene...”
“It’s alright. I’m sorry for dropping this information on you. My job is to fund the truth not fabricate stories.” Y/N offered him a small smile.
“Thank you. Steve was it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’ve got a kind heart. I appreciate what you’ve done for me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a few arrangements to take care of.” Steve nodded and headed off, hoping that he would see her again one day.
...
It was the biggest scandals of the year. In the months that followed, it was discovered that not only Helmut was cheating on Y/N but he was also involved in illegal activities; often involving crime syndicates. That was how he earned his fortune. As far as Steve knew, Y/N got everything in the divorce.
One afternoon, Steve had a surprise visitor.
“Detective Rogers?” Steve looked up to see Y/N knocking on his door, already having entered the room.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” As she crossed the room, he could see how much more confident she looked, like the woman she portrayed herself to be on stage.
“Helmut owed you a debt and I intend to pay it,” she said, placing the envelope full of money on his desk.
“I... I can’t accept this...”
“Please. He hired you to find proof of unfaithfulness and as far as I’m concerned, you found it. You have done your job, sir.” Steve looked at the pay-packet on his desk.
“I know this is a little forward but... may I take you out to dinner?”
“I would like that very much. Pick me up at seven,” Y/N warmly smiled.
Steve couldn’t wait until then. After all that she had been through, a lady like Y/N deserved to be out with a true gentleman.
#ssb2021#40's AU#Steve Rogers#Female reader#steve x reader#baron zemo#Zemo x reader#Marvel#Marvel fic#Cheating#Singer#Nightclub#Natasha Romanoff#Sinners 'n Saints#Detective!Steve Rogers
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I care for you
Hellooo, I’m back!
Still working on that Marcus Moreno fanfic. It is almost finished. It will probably be ready in the next week or so.
But I wrote my first Javier Pena fanfic. So here it is. Bon Appetit!
Narcos
Javier Pena x Reader
Warnings: language, mentions of trauma, reader has a panic attack, fluff, kinda smuttish toward the end....but not really... updated it a little.. didn’t seem right
"You're a dick, Pena."
Seeing Pena's face was enough to ruin the entire day for you. You really weren't in the mood for work today. Not after what happened that weekend, but you had to put up with it, so you just sucked it up and got over with it. The moment you walked into the office and saw Pena's face you felt the frustration built up inside of you. The words had to be said. You had to let him know how you felt. Steve looked up in surprise wondering what this could be about. Pena seemed just as surprised as Steve.
Now it wasn't new that Javier was a dick. Everyone knew this. But when it was said out loud, by you, no less, meant something was up.
"What did I do?" Pena turned his gaze upon Steve who was giving him a look. Pena grunted arching his eyebrow as his gaze fell upon you, waiting for you answer.
Steve rolled his eyes. Knowing damn well what Pena was capable of doing. He already speculated a half dozen things that Javier could have done to you.
There goes another partner, Steve thought. You were the best they had yet. This wasn't your area of expertise, but you were a damn good cop. It was your dream after all to become a detective. Back at home your job was to find people. You could find almost any person who didn't want to be found. You liked the work. That's why this job offer seemed like a new challenge for you. You were ready for something new. After what you had been through, you needed to be on new grounds. Colombia seemed the best place to do so.
"Not this shit again" Steve mumbled under his breath trying to keep his business to himself… for the time being at least… He wanted to see where this was going first.
"You know damn well what I am talking about, Pena." You said taking a seat at your desk.
Pena did know what you were talking about. He didn't expect this reaction. He knew you were mad, but it all happened two days ago, he thought you would have cooled down by now.
He just sat there quietly staring at you. You looked so beautiful. That fierce look into your eyes.
"Fine. Call me a dick all you want. It won't change what happened."
The tension in the office was to cut. A silence fell over the office. It went on for hours as none of you wanted to speak to one another. Steve couldn't take the silence anymore.
He stood up from his desk making his way toward the door "I hope that by the time I've come back you two resolved this thing that is going on because you are getting on my nerves. If we are going to capture Escobar, you to have to fucking get your shit together".
He sounded like a disappointed father who wanted his kids to behave. The both of you didn't dare to meet his eyes. He rolled his eyes and walked out of the office, cursing under his breath.
It was just you and Pena now. You noticed Javier's mouth open ready to speak up. You really didn't want to deal with him and his explanations for his behavior, so you stood up from your desk without saying a word, leaving Javier alone in the office. Javi sighed pained and let his head drop into his hands letting it rest there for a moment. Why did you have to make things so complicated?
Pena decided he needed a cup of coffee. He left the office just like his partners did and went down to the kitchen.
He didn't want you to respond like this. He didn't even know why you responded like this. He didn't really do anything wrong. He helped you.
You hadn't said a word to him since this morning. Even though it was to tell him he was a dick.
He knew he had to talk to you. But how was he going to if you didn't want to. You and Steve were buddies. You have worked together before and you and you already knew Connie because you went to the same school. Steve mentioned that you have been acting strangely lately. Maybe this is the reason why you are focusing all your anger towards him. Steve also mentioned something about a partner, but he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. He needed to know what was going on with you. He needed you to be you. He can't work with this version of you. This version kept making things complicated.
He walked past the file room lost in his own thoughts as he noticed the door was open. He noticed you standing in the middle of the room reaching for a box on one of the shelves. He hesitantly decided to walk in knowing once he was in the room there was no going back. He closed the door behind him for some privacy.
You jumped a little at the sound of the closing door noticing Javi standing opposite from you. Javier was staring at you with his honeyed puppy eyes. You looked away, trying not to get lost in them. That happened from time to time. You tried to deny yourself the feelings that stirred up every time you looked at him. Nothing good could come from it. Besides he was way too busy fucking other women than to notice you.
What was he doing here? Did he come here to lecture you or did he finally see you and came here to have sex with you. It would be really stupid of him if he thought that now was the time to do so. No matter how much you fantasized about it, you really didn't want any of it now.
"Not in the mood, Javi" you said staring down at the file you were holding.
Javier has to hide his laugh. The thought of you thinking that this is the reason why he is here amuses him. Especially because you are mad at him.
" That is not why I am here. I want to talk to you."
"Not in the mood for that either" you said coldly, still keeping your eyes on the file you’re holding.
Javier began to lose his own temper here as well. He was getting a little tired of this behavior. Did you really despise him that much?
He sighed rubbing his eyes “Fine, then just listen….,"
"I don't know what is going on with you, I don't know what, but something is clearly going on. All I did that night was protect you.... I was just trying to protect you."
You had contact with a narco who told you he had information about Escobar. You agreed to meet him. What you didn't know was his loyalty to Escobar. You shouldn't have trusted him. You had been rubbing to deep, looking for contact with the men and women who should not be trusted at all, but you did it anyways. It had to get you somewhere. Pena had been keeping his eyes on you. Tracking your every moment. Just to make sure that you didn't do anything stupid, which you did. In Pena's eyes you were reckless and naive. You didn't see the risks. That's why he stopped you before you could walk into the trap that had been set out for you.
Pena wondered if this had always been your workstyle. Steve told him it was and that it wasn't. You used to be way more careful with what you did. Especially with cases like these. You would not just risk it, no. You analyzed every situation as long as you could before having a well built-up plan. You didn't have a plan, not really. You just wanted to catch them. No matter what the cost would be.
You dropped your files onto the box you grabbed them out of. His intentions might have been good, but it lost you your bait.
"You lost me intel Pena, you know that? I had him right there. He could've told me more about…."
"They weren't going to tell you anything (y/n), they were going to kill you!" He raised his voice to make his point clear. You've seen him as furious as this but he has never shouted, not at you.
"They know who you are. These people know everything. They aren't some regular criminals. They are far more dangerous than a common criminal. You have to be more careful! "
His words upset you slightly.
"Why do you care so much about what would happen to me?"
"Why don't you?" He responded, sounding very concerned.
He was right. You should care about what happens to you. Why didn't you. You didn't know, or you did but you didn't want to admit to these thoughts. They scared you.
"I….I…." Tears began to fill your eyes.
"Do you have some sort of death wish?" Javier grabbed a hold of you having a firm grip on your arms shaking you "do you?!"
Tears started to roll down your cheeks.
"No"
He stopped shaking you, grounding you. Hoping you would come to your senses.
"Then what are you doing?"
Your entire body started to shake, you couldn't stop it. Neither could you breathe really well. It felt as if the air was being sucked out of you. It became hard for you to swallow. A gagging feeling began to form. Images were flashing in front of you.
"I... I just want to feel something."
"You what? You don't realize the consequences of this job."
Your legs couldn't hold you anymore. You collapsed. It was a good thing that Pena we still in reach of you. He caught you before you it the floor. You really gave him a scare.
"Shit! (Y/n)" you were clearly having some sort of panic attack. Caused by him.
"(Y/n), talk to me."
"I…." The images in your mind were overtaking your thought process. It was all happening again.
"It's there…. it's always there" you cry out.
"What is?"
"That afternoon, at the steak out"
Javier had no clue what you were talking about. Was this that thing Murphy told him about? He encouraged you to keep talking.
You and your partner had led to a group of bank robbers. They were clever, always knew ways to outsmart the police. You were a step closer this time. You were going to catch them in the act, but it went miserably wrong. Apparently, they had been tipped off by someone. They knew the police was there. Your partner got shot. One of the bullets went through his head… of the head of Your partner. The man you loved. The images of his death body covered in blood. They haunted you.
"I lost him. They killed him."
"Who?"
"My partner" you told Pena the story. He nodded and listened.
"Okay, I understand you are trying to cope with your trauma but that is still no excuse for your reckless behavior."
Javier was rubbing circles on your back, hoping it would calm you. It did. You felt like you could breathe again.
"You don't understand Pena. I haven't felt anything ever since that happened. Nothing. I thought that maybe if I would take this job, I would come back to my senses but all it did was push me in further. All I want is to feel again, Javi."
Javier let go of you now your steadier then you were a few moments ago. He sent his hands to your face to wipe away your tears that were rolling down your cheeks.
"You won't find them in near death situations." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. It was a bit awkward. You never hugged. It felt nice though.
"I don't want you to get hurt."
You loved this side of him. This softer side. He was so gentle. If only he would show this side more.
He pulled away from the hug a little, still holding you.
You stopped crying. Your eyes were red. Your entire body felt weak from the shaking. If Javier would let you go you would probably still collapse. You tried to smile at him.
"You care about me?" You said with a hint of teasing in your voice.
Javi grinned rolling his eyes. Of course, that wouldn't go by you quietly.
"Yes I do…. Don’t tell Murphy."
You laughed. Showing more of yourself than you did in the past couple of months.
"See you do feel”.
"This is different" all you felt right now in this moment was embarrassment. You broke down in front of your freaking crush. This is not how you wanted Javier to see you. He didn’t seem to mind. That’s how much he cared. Here you are, thinking that he couldn’t care less about what would happen to his partners and here he is, telling you otherwise.
"Is it?" You looked into his eyes. His beautiful brown eyes were staring into your soul. "Apparently I just made you smile”. Again, he had a point. You did feel. You just denied yourself the feelings that had been botteling up inside of you. You’ve clearly been in love with this man the moment you met him. How could you not have seen this as a proper feeling. Maybe because this wasn’t what you saw as the feelings you were missing. You were missing sadness, you couldn’t grieve, but maybe this was because of the trauma. Of the things that you have seen. All you needed was time. Now you found someone who could help you through that time.
“Maybe it is me you need to feel again." Javier said. He bit his lip letting his gaze fall upon your lips. His head moved forward, gently pressing his lips against yours. You got lost in the moment as Javier pulled back. “We should go back to the office, Murphy must be waiting”.
You could not believe that he just kissed you. It didn’t surprise you that much but you never thought he would kiss you. He clearly cared about you. how could you have missed that. Probably because you were too occupied with the depression and trauma you were dealing with. Did Javier just wake you up? Did you allow your emotions to come to the surface again? Probably not in its entirety but him being there. It sure did something.
You nodded your head and smiled at him. He wrapped an arm around your waist as you walked back to the office. You were still a bit shaky on your legs. He didn’t want you to collapse again so he made sure you could walk properly. Your colleagues were staring. Wondering what happened inside of that room. Wondering why Javier was holding you. You didn’t care. They could stare all they want. Javier cared about you, and that’s all that mattered.
A little while later Steve returned to the office as well. Who knows where he had been.
The office was still filled with silence. He wasn’t quite sure if you two actually resolved anything, but the tension was gone, that was a good sign.
“So?”
You both looked up from your desk.
“We’re fine.”
“Yeah, we’re good.” You smirked. “I just figured out that Pena has a heart.”
Pena just frowned. Steve couldn’t help but laugh. Then it hit him. How did you resolve your issues?
“You didn’t sleep together did you? At least, not in this office, right? Not while I was gone.”
This was the perfect opportunity to joke around with the good old man. Javier knew immediately what you meant when you looked at him. You just stared at each other in silence both giving each other awkward look on purpose.
“Oh, for god’s sake! Why?”
You burst out laughing. Your smile captured Javier’s eyes. It was enchanting. He knew that you were special since the day you walked into the office. He hasn’t been capable of thinking of anything else. No matter how many women he shared the bed with. All he wanted was you. He knows now that you want the same and that was all that mattered.
#Javier Pena#Javier Pena x Reader#fanfiction#Narcos#narcos fanfiction#javier pena fanfiction#pedro pascal#not my gif#hope it is any good
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Billy Hargrove’s Exploration Of Beauty
| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 |
Part 7: When Blue Met Pink
chapter one: joyce
also on ao3
Billy pulled into the parking space outside of Melvald’s with a screech of the tires. The body of the car slightly jerked forward once he finally came to a complete stop just before he would hit the yellow parking block. The right tire sat just outside the white line, a rookie looking parking job to say the least.
With his wallet in one hand, and his keys twirled around the index finder of his other, as he heard the metal pieces clank, he walked through the glass doors into the store. He heard the chime of the opening door ring through the mostly empty space.There were only a few people. An old lady who was carefully inspecting the soup aisle, and a middle aged woman with her toddler son who were walking past the ice cream. The little kid with his hand up in the air, his finger pointed to the tub of rocky road that was barely visible through fogged over glass. He noticed the exhausted eyes of the woman masked by heavy mascara and shadow. “I already said no Daniel.” she sighed. Joyce Byers was at the counter, her elbows resting by the cash register, head propped up in her hands as she stared blankly in front of her with her head tilted in a way that indicated she was thinking about something that the rest of the world just couldn’t comprehend.
He ignored the total three figures that roamed the aisles of the small little corner store, offered a wave and a smile to Mrs. Byers that went completely unnoticed, and got to the task at hand. Not there to pick up some milk or butter like Neil always had him do whenever they ran out, as if he was the one sneaking spoonfuls of butter at two in the morning. No, that was all Max, the fucking weirdo. He also wasn’t there to pick up a pack of cigarettes, though he probably would once he got to the counter, considering the phrase “pack of reds” served as his default greeting to every cashier. He was there, at Melvald’s, at three in the afternoon, like a fucking sap, because he was buying little treats for the boyfriend he had waiting for him at the big house off of 3rd avenue, a movie and hopefully more as their evening plans.
He knew what Steve liked. He hated what Steve liked. But despite his utter disgust over strawberry fruit snacks tainting delicious cheddar cheese popcorn, the smile on Steve’s face whenever he tossed a new box of Sunkist Fun Fruits at him was worth the effort of sifting through the bowl. He located the snack aisle and picked out the familiar yellow and red box, along with some Orville Redenbacher. The time on the clock overhead read only a quarter after three, and Steve wouldn’t be home from dealing with the nerd herd until at least a quarter ‘til, so with his extra time, he continued to browse.
He picked up a couple of other things. A box of Twinkies so he could make some of his favorite jokes, some Ho Hos so Steve could make some of his. The basket was slowly filled to the brim with junk food, indicative of a truly wild night ahead of him.
On his way to the refrigerated section to scope out the drinks, the glimpse of a carefully assorted rainbow of colors stopped him in his tracks. It’s a small section, no more than two and a half feet in diameter, but at almost the instant he recognized the familiarly shaped bottles on display, he went on complete pause. There was nobody anywhere around him, no sound of nearing footsteps, so he let himself stand there and ponder. Let himself imagine just reaching out and touching something on display as he kept his eyes averted, locked straightforwardly toward the cases of beer behind translucent refrigerator doors. He just stared blankly, with an inner attempt to form some reasonable excuse to be a man who was looking at makeup.
“Oh, Max asked me to pick it up for her.”
He settled on that one.
And turned his head.
He was just going to look. That was all.
There held a whole magnitude of various beauty products, from polishes, to moisturizers, to lipsticks…
That rosy pink stared right back at him like it was screaming at him to pick it up. To look. To swatch. To taste. To feel that velvety cream cover his lips. A tint similar to that of his own lips but just more… pretty. Smooth and elegant and airbrushed. “Soft matte look,” it read.
He wanted it.
He wanted to add it into the basket of goodies he’s already collected as another treat for himself. Maybe a treat for Steve if he decides he likes it.
They discussed it in the past in a very, tip-toed around the subject kind of way. Steve gently held his hand in his as he applied a light pink varnish, similar to that of the lipstick shade, onto his nails. Steady hands perfectly coated the area without any sign of streaks or rough edges. They’d reached a point where that was routine, a little thing Billy could have of himself while they were alone together. Another thing they could add onto the list. It was something Billy felt just a little bit of safety around taking with him that one time. When the night had gone so perfectly with hot cocoa by the furnace, and the added bonus that Neil wouldn’t be home to inspect his appearance, he said no to the cotton balls and acetone and the clear coat replacement and instead let color coated nails remain under the cloak of his jacket pockets. He was on cloud nine as he walked through the door of his own house with concealed hands and no questions asked. He locked the door to his room and allowed himself to stare down at his hands. Fingers splayed against his bedding looking at how the pink contrasted with the blue of his sheets, and he felt an overwhelming sense of contentment and a little dash of pride.
That same night, while his nails were going from bland to bold, Steve popped the question like it held no weight at all. Like it was just a casual sort of thing used to fill the silent gaps.
“Have you thought about wearing makeup at all?”
He didn’t even look at him when he said it, completely enthralled in the way the bristles contacted the nail, so he didn’t see Billy's eyes widen like saucers. However, he did notice as the hand in his hold began trembling.
Steve ever so slightly tightened his grip to help reduce the shaking, his eyes angled up at Billy finally, the painting temporarily discontinued. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked.
No. Yes? The thing was, with Steve’s first question, the answer was yes. He had thought about it. All the damn time. Like a woodpecker pecking away at his skull, he thought about it. Every time he saw a woman with a shimmer on her eyes, black in her waterline, a shine to her lips, a rosy tint to her cheeks… he felt unbridled envy. He wanted to feel the way they felt. Billy wanted powder to clog his pores and give his face a uniform color. Become a blank slate. He envied that soft and smooth and gentle and pretty appearance.
He found himself on more than one occasion sneaking into the master bathroom where Susan had kept all of her make up. Too scared to touch it, he would just look at it. Try to psyche himself up to reach for that little tube of Mary Kay mascara and shove it into his pocket before the rumble of the truck outside would shake the house.
Instead he would slam the drawer shut and rush back to his room and forget it even happened as he bit away at his clear coated nails. He’d fall back onto his pillow and let his eyes fall shut. He would let the darkness consume him into a dream where he didn’t have to be afraid to add volume to his already long lashes or add a tinted gloss to his lips. He’d enjoy the free feeling for as long as it would last.
So yeah. He thought about wearing makeup.
He didn’t tell Steve that though. Instead he chose to only respond to the second question. Because some things were just a little too hard to say out loud. Some things were a little too foreign.
As much as Billy wanted to bridge that gap between femininity and masculinity, he also had every desire to keep them separate. To push away all of those urges to wear lacy lingerie and silk panties. Keep his hair short, face and nails bare and unkempt. Smell of sweat and hard work like a man. “I’m fine.” he said in lieu of the complete truth. It didn’t feel or sound like a lie when he said it. But later on he figures out that it definitely was.
They had that conversation already, but it didn’t keep those thoughts from lingering. His mind was boggled with confusion about who he was and what he liked and the additional bafflement over how simple it all was to Steve.
So simple in fact that he said the most perfect thing as if it was just another instinctual flick of the tongue.
“Well I can bet you’d look real pretty with lipstick.”
It was said like he wants it. Not just for Billy’s sake, but his own, and that right there felt amazing.
That was the first night he finally let his hands sift through that drawer of Susan’s and sneak away a couple of items. Susan and Neil had yet to arrive home from their trip into the city so Billy was safe. He had painted nails that felt like a shield. When he held the tube of mascara, the nude bullet lipstick, and the only bottle of polish he could find in his own hands, he felt completely untouchable.
He locked himself in his own room and stood in front of his makeshift vanity. Tossed the stolen objects into the mess of cologne, hairspray, and cigarette ash. He just studied himself for a moment. Hunched over taking deep and shaky breaths, in and out. Every logical thought in his mind was shouting at him to go put it back. To put it somewhere other than his room. That dreadful thought that just its temporary occupancy in his room would be easily detected by Neil, even if he chucked it out of his window right then, scared him. It was all too risky to be doing in his own house, yet he still twisted open the cap of the mascara and pulled out the wand.
It was in that moment that Billy had no fucking clue what he was doing. Didn’t even know where to begin.
He just closed it right back up, slipped it underneath a stack of records, and moved on. He twisted open the lipstick only to be met with a very light shade. Lighter than his own skin color. Applied to his lips it just looked absolutely ridiculous. It didn’t give him that pop of vibrancy he envied in the women he saw. It made his lips feel more sunken in and lifeless, rather than big and beautiful.
And he already knew he hated the nail polish. He didn’t even have to apply it. It was a rust color, like a dirty orange. Billy hated the color orange, and mixing it with brown didn’t fucking improve it.
It was all a total bust. A complete waste of his energy. With his sleeve he wiped the lipstick from his lips and stowed away the rest of the contraband. He went to bed feeling extra shitty, the despair of empty darkness was the only thing included in his night.
He stopped letting himself think about makeup since that night. All it achieved was making him feel disappointed and just... bad. No other way to describe it.
But it all came flooding back when he saw the display. Not the bad feelings, the good ones, the ones he had in his dreams. The feeling of completion that couldn’t be realized with the makeup Susan guilt purchased off of a friend’s “growing small business.” There was a little hope growing in the pit of his stomach as he let himself peruse the many options at his disposal. A little bit of hope that maybe he just didn’t have the right stuff.
He just held the pink lipstick in his hand. He debated between dropping it into the basket or hanging it back up on the hook. Twiddling it in between his fingers, he let his mind race to many different places. Emotions of fear and joy clashed in his mind, like he couldn’t have one without facing the other.
But fear wasn’t dependent on joy. Because a small woman cleared her throat next to him and, surely enough, the only thing he was feeling at that moment was complete terror. Not an ounce of happiness to be seen.
It was Joyce Byers.
Well shit.
“Whatcha got there?” she asked, neck craned to the left to make out what he had tightly clasped between his fingers.
“It’s for Max.” he said, too assuredly. Like it was clearly a prepared statement, the lie obvious in the pitch of his voice.
“Really? Max doesn’t strike me as a makeup girl.” It’s not really accusatory, not necessarily. But he could hear it. That ever so slight undertone in her voice that had disbelief written all over it. Her head was cocked just like it was when he first walked into the store, and it felt like she was reading him like a goddamn open book.
Billy couldn’t seem to find the words, unsure how to defend himself in the situation he was completely unprepared for. Stood there in silence as he let the words filter through his brain, waiting for the right ones to pop up in front of him, but they never did. He never really knew how to talk to older women other than through excessive and overdone flirtation.
“What shade did you pick?”
With no other choice in his immediate thoughts, he handed the lipstick tube over. She slowly took it away from his slightly too tight of a grip. She had a slight smile when she pulled off the cap to see the rose colored tip slowly rise out as she twists the bottom of the silver tube.
“This is pretty, though I think a shade like this would complement a skin tone more like your own. Wouldn’t you agree?”
That was the invitation, right there in that subtle little nod. She made eye contact with him before she quickly turned her eyes downward at his hands. the same hands that were nervously chipping away at dried, hideous, rust colored nail polish that he painted just before he left as a little surprise for Steve. Even though he hated the color, even though his right hand looked much better than his left. Ambidexterity was not something in his wheelhouse. He immediately stuffed his one free hand into his pocket, and tossed the other one that was currently holding his basket of groceries behind his back. As if she hadn’t already seen. She’d figured him out like some elementary math problem. The lipstick and the nail polish was just a 2 + 2 = 4 kind of situation.
“I don’t - this isn’t…” He couldn’t get a full sentence out because he really had no clue as to how to deny it, and there’s also a weird feeling that he loathes where he’s not sure he even wants to. She was just Joyce Byers. His only connection to the woman had a pretty long chain. Steve’s ex’s boyfriend’s Mom. Or Max’s friend’s Mom. Nothing direct. Nothing so close that he had to truly fear. Additionally, she was being nice? She wasn’t doing the things he’d always expected people to do. She wasn’t spewing slurs or making fun. There was a genuine motherly interest in the way she asked for the color that wasn’t completely foreign, but it was something so far away in his past that it might as well have been.
His face got red from just his own natural blush. His heart was racing, beating out of his chest until he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. He felt like he’s being submerged under water until there was a small, cold hand pulling at his own.
“Come with me.” she says, her voice soft and planned. Billy just let her guide him, giving up and giving in to the little temptation to let someone else inside of the little sanctuary he built for himself. Even if all it was was just a small little glimpse into Billy’s secret world he’d only just begun exploring. He had so many things left to discover, things he wouldn’t find if he let his fear and shame dictate everything.
Joyce led him into the compact supply closet in the back of the store. They’re surrounded by shelves filled with boxes and various miscellany. He felt slightly suffocated in the small enclosure, but simultaneously a weird feeling of warmth in the way Joyce smiled at him. A soft upturn of the corners of her mouth, lips still sealed but the sincerity clear in the brightness of her eyes and the slight rise of her brows.
“What were you looking to get?” she asks. Unspecific yet specific. She left a name unattached to the end of the question on purpose to give Billy the opportunity for an out, if he wanted to deny the thing they both knew to be true.
“Lipstick? Gloss maybe? I don’t - I’m not sure I…”
After taking the full basket from his hands and setting it onto the floor, Joyce took his hands into her own again.
“It’s okay, y’know, if it’s not for Max.”
She was so straightforward. She just got right to the point without it feeling like an attack. Just strode right in with unwavering acceptance and affirmation. Letting him know that it was okay.
He looked at Joyce and saw his mom. Not the mom who abandoned him with Neil, but the mom who did things like this. The one who would cradle him after a nightmare and who told him he was destined for greatness. The one who encouraged him to be himself even when his father had other ideas.
“You know who you are. Nobody else gets to say differently.” she’d tell him when his father forced him into baseball and threw out his stuffed animals. Neil would go on to replace the keepsakes that represented softness with model cars and legos. It was just an act of toughening him up and preparing him to become a man at the ripe old age of seven. He was reminded daily of his role as a man in society with little tests just to make sure he stayed in line.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Red.” he’d say, when he wanted to say purple.
He’d get berated when he cried when he got hurt.
“If you want to cry I’ll give you something to cry about,” Neil would say, as he stuck a hydrogen peroxide saturated cotton ball into the open wound.
Billy’s Mom never did that. Always warned him about the sting and rubbed his arm the whole way through. Preaching the opposite of everything his Dad would say. “It’s okay to cry, honey. Just let it out.”
His Mom was beautiful. He loved to sit in the bathroom and watch her as she put on her makeup. He’d seen the way her mouth dropped open when she applied mascara to her eyes, the way she smacked her lips together after she swiped on her favorite red lipstick... he wanted to be just like her.
He’d stolen from her once, and it didn’t end well. It was just a red lipstick. He was caught, almost literally, red handed. When his father had barged into his bedroom without so much as a knock, the red on his lips turned into red elsewhere. It was a mistake he learned never to repeat.
After all that, there he was, in a store where he listened to a woman tell him that all of the things he was raised to believe were far from okay, were perfectly okay. With Steve’s voice in his head echoing that of his Mom’s and Joyce’s, he let himself actually believe it this time.
“Thanks.” Billy said. It’s the closest thing he’ll get to an admission. He can’t outright say it, but in the way her smile widened before she turned around, he knew she understood.
“So,” she said, “–I have some product we can’t sell because the seals were broken. They’re still perfectly fine if you would like them.” She pulled a couple of things from the box on the lower shelf. The same lipstick he’d held out in the store along with a clear gloss, a small eyeshadow palette, some face powder and mascara. A full face worth of makeup moved from the palms of her hands into his own, accepting them with a nod of his head and the sniffle of someone trying to hold back tears.
“Are you sure?” he asked. A question with multiple meanings. All of which Joyce seems to pick up on. She pulled him into a tight hug. A warmth encompassed him all around that made him feel so overcome and just… good. Joyful and free like a painful growth was painlessly removed along with the truth’s reveal.
“Yes. I’m sure Billy. It’s okay.” An answer with multiple meanings.
They both exit the small closet, it felt like a metaphor for something. He headed up to the counter to buy his items, and Joyce began scanning his things when she got another smile on her face.
“Special occasion tonight?” she asked.
“Yeah. I got a hot date.” Not a lie.
She laughed a little before she punched the keys on the register.
“Anything else I can get for you Billy?”
Billy smiled.
“A pack of Reds.”
- : -
When Billy pulled into the driveway of Steve’s house he barged right in through the front door. He held the paper bag close to his chest and he shouted an “I have arrived!” that echoed up the stairs and all the way up to Steve’s room. Billy could hear the springs of Steve’s bed before he got up and rushed down the stairs to greet him with a little peck on the lips, immediately taking the bag from Billy’s hands to begin the formal review of his selections.
Steve set the bag onto the coffee table and began to sift through all of the things Billy bought. He tossed the cigarette pack at Billy with aggressive force before going right back into the bag.
The real surprise laid close to the bottom of the bag, hidden beneath the Twinkies and the popcorn and all the other junk food that had Steve beaming. Food was truly the easiest way to Steve’s heart.
Billy stood there tapping his foot and grabbing at his hands behind his back as he waited for Steve to see all the other things he got, to give him that little reaction he always knew would be positive, no matter the voices in his head that told him otherwise.
He seemed to have reached the bottom of the bag when he stalled. He just stared into the bottom of the brown paper bag, the table already covered in scattered candy and snacks, the only things left in the bag were the gifts from Joyce.
“Please tell me you’re going to put this on tonight.” Steve finally turned to look at him with an absolute ridiculous smile on his face. His mouth and eyes couldn’t possibly get any wider than they were right then. He seemed so fucking excited and it all radiated straight into Billy, and all he could do was walk up to him and kiss him. Billy pulled Steve’s face with both hands and practically consumed him like he was one of those Hostess desserts. Two untameable smiles pressed up against each other.
Billy reached for the tube of lipstick out of the bag and held it in between the two of them, he asked, “Are you going to help me put it on?”
Billy was wrong. Steve’s smile could get wider. Steve took Billy by the hand and sat him down on the couch, taking the bag with him as he straddled Billy’s lap.
“You know what you’re doing pretty boy?” Billy asked. He pushed Steve’s hair behind his ears as he looked up at him in awe. He relished in Steve’s excitement that was perfectly matching his own. It was all he could ever ask for.
“Yeah,” he said, “I’ve seen Nancy do it enough times.” Billy rolls his eyes at the mention of her name. Steve poked him in the face, causing Billy's face to scrunch. “Oh get over it Billy, I am.”
Billy was already shaking with anticipation and just wanted to get on with it without the mention of Steve’s former girlfriend. “Just shut up. Make me the prettier one.”
“Oh you already are, gorgeous.”
Steve twisted open the lipstick and carefully held Billy’s chin up so he was looking directly at him. With a steady hand and a soft touch, the smooth cream brushed against his lips and coated them to perfection. No overdrawn lines or transferring to his teeth, the color suited him so well, just a soft pink just slightly darker and more vibrant than the color of his own. It made his lips look bolder and fuller than they already were.
“Now look straight forward for me,” Steve said before he reached into the bag for another piece of product. “–and raise your eyebrows.” Steve twisted and pulled the wand from the metallic gold tube, the black bristles looked like spider legs. “Okay, hold still.”
“I swear to God Steve, if you poke me in the fucking eye–”
“Have some faith in me, damn!”
Fortunately for both Billy and Steve, none of the black goopy liquid found its way into Billy’s eyes. There was only a minor sting that, with time, he could easily see himself get used to. The sensation was followed by the feeling of soft bristles going in circles around his cheeks. Steve had asked him to smile for the application, but that wasn’t the reason he was doing it. The look of focus in Steve’s eyes along with the slight exposure of the tip of his tongue through his mostly sealed lips had sent Billy reeling.
Steve leaned back to get a complete view of his work. “Wow, I’m good.”
“Okay, hot shot,” Billy said with a nudge to his shoulder, “show me then.”
In a moment of surprising strength, Steve hoisted Billy up and over his shoulder by the grab of his ass. Billy’s stomach had come to rest right on the point of Steve’s shoulder, which sent him into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. His voice fluctuated and bounced with each step Steve took down the hall toward the bathroom. Billy clung to Steve’s shirt, hiking it up past the midpoint of his as he did so.
“Oh my god! Put me down!” he laughed.
Billy’s legs flailed, with the result of a knocked over a lamp and a bruised ankle from the abrupt contact with the doorframe.
“Ow!”
“Sorry!”
Steve sat Billy on the edge of the sink, his face still faced away from the mirror. They were still coming down from their laughter when Billy, seemingly having forgotten about the makeover that he had just been given not even a full minute ago, leant down in an attempt to lay one right onto Steve.
“Hey, don’t ruin it before you even see it!” Steve pushed him back away from him and then helped him down from the sink and with a comforting grip of Billy’s biceps, he turned him around. “See? it looks so good on you!” Steve stood behind Billy with his hands trailing down to his waist, head over his shoulder, looking at him like he was his brilliant creation. Steve Harrington’s masterpiece, his most prized possession. “Wait right here, I got you something.”
Left alone in the bathroom, Billy was able to just let himself stare. Let himself lean in close to the mirror, his nose nearly touched the glass as he studied the tint to his lips, the definition to his lashes, the slight pink to his cheeks... It was the first time he ever looked at himself, like really looked at himself, and saw someone pretty. He truly believed it this time.
Steve came back with a bag of his own. It was a small bag with a French name on the side of it Black, and elegant, and Billy already had an idea of what’s inside. The day just kept on getting better. Billy tore the tissue out of the bag, and pulled the pieces of fabric out. It was a dust rose garter belt with stockings, panties, and a bralette, a perfect match for his lips. The lace was so sheer and the baroque floral patterns were so elegant he wanted nothing more than to just put it on right there. Strip himself down to the bare essentials and allow the openwork to protect him.
“You think you wanna give me a fashion show?” Steve asked, pulling the sleeves of Billy’s jacket down over his shoulders. Billy smiled and pushed Steve gently out the bathroom door and shut it right in his face.
He wasted no time putting it on. The way the fabric sat on his hips and his chest felt almost like it was tailored specifically to him. Enough room in the crotch area while also perfectly hugging his hips. The stockings squeezing his thighs just the perfect amount. There was no uncomfortable overhang in the bralette. He had never felt more comfortable wearing anything before. The pink on tan skin, the emphasis on every curve of his. He felt so soft and pretty and almost totally complete. He was just missing one thing.
Billy strutted out of the bathroom with a genuine conviction he’d never had before. There was no fear this time, no tears. Just pure elation at the prospect of Steve seeing him like this. Loving the way he looks in lingerie and makeup. Loving him for who he is and thinking he’s still hot. Still sexy and attractive.
“Holy shit you look fucking amazing baby.” Steve slowly walked toward him. He took in the whole view, committing the entire sight to memory because it was absolutely glorious. “I hope you aren’t mad,” he began, his hands finding Billy’s hips. “but I had my Mom pick it up while she was in Paris. I found out they make men’s lingerie there and I wanted you to have something special. She doesn’t know who it was for, but she knows I’m dating a guy now.”
They had never really discussed the topic of coming out. It felt like something that didn’t need to be said. Telling people was something so far off the radar of possibility that Billy felt a creeping sensation of absolute dread before he was finally able to open up his mouth to speak.
“And she was okay with it?”
Steve smiled and bowed his head just slightly. “Surprisingly, yeah. She was the one who wanted to pick something up for you. So I jumped on the chance.”
“Does your Dad know?” Steve laughed and shook his head.
“God I hope not. His brain would probably explode.” Billy pulled Steve in by the hold of his cheeks, and let their foreheads touch while they stared deep into each other’s eyes. Steve’s hands traced up and down the curves of Billy’s body, fingers dragged against the lace and their smiles were uncontrollable. “I’m sorry, I should have asked you first.”
“Hey,” Billy’s voice was soft, “I’m happy for you.” Steve's sigh of relief was hot against Billy’s mouth. “And thank you, for this.” he said before the distance between them was finally closed and lips were pressed to lips, pink color smeared all over each other’s faces.
The only thing better than wearing that lipstick was having Steve ruin it.
next part
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Beautiful Deaths: chapter one
soooo i did a thing. this is an idea i’ve been toying with for a while and i’ve just finished the prologue.
summary: Y/N is a detective at the 99th precinct with a secret. Hiding from the avengers is not an easy task.
word count: 2.1K (yikes)
ps) sorry if this sucks
It was a regular day at the 99. You had come in half an hour early to finish off some paperwork from the day before, ready to start the day afresh then headed into the morning briefing at 9am. A day in the life of one of New York’s finest was never boring; from B and E’s at the local bodegas to money laundering, there was always a case to work on. As you walked through the bullpen towards the conference room, the smell of strong, fresh coffee wafted by. You saw Holt in his office preparing for the briefing looking somewhat uneased. You payed this no mind however as you did not want to intrude, if it were about work you would find out soon enough. Most people were already here; Amy was up front, prepped and ready as always, Rosa was sat at the back with her legs placed on top of each other on the table, in fact, everyone but Peralta was present, which was typical. He soon came in just as captain Holt was beginning to address the squad, you couldn’t tell whether he had even tried to make it on time but his saunter into the room made it apparent that time management was still not a skill of his. “Good morning,” he addressed the team, he then looked to Jake with a deadpan expression “Nice of you to finally join us, Jacob” “Not my fault.” The detective held his arms up in defence. “The line to get my breakfast was really long an--” he attempted to continue but Diaz chimed in; “How is that breakfast? All you have is a cup of coffee.” “Yeah, I usually get a bagel too but I’m cutting out the carbs, Rosa” Peralta retorted, putting a comical amount of emphasis while saying her name, while Diaz rolled her eyes. “Right, okay well, back to the briefing then” Holt brought the attention back to the matter at hand, choosing to ignore the childing behaviour of his so called ‘best detective’. He went on to explain a child trafficking ring going on that required undercover investigations in order to build a case against the ring leaders. He needed three detectives to make contact with a high-ranking member and gather intel. You tried your hardest to stay professional despite the emotional ache you felt due to the sensitivity of the case. Captain Holt explained the three targets and all of their priors. “(Y/L/N), Peralta, Boyle, this one is for you three. I need you to understand that no arrests are to be made at this time, you are simply gathering intel. Understood?” “Got it, captain” you replied choosing to ignore the ‘dream team’ comment that came from Charles and taking the case file he was handing you. “Good. Dismissed.”
No more than an hour later you found yourself undercover being driven with Charles and Jake to the site. You decided to stay out of the conversation the two detectives were having in order to focus on the mission specs and to get in the zone. It wasn’t that you were nervous, you had done this sort of thing many times before. You just knew this was important, even more so because it involved children. Something you knew about all too well. Even with your years of experience however, you couldn’t shake this gut feeling you had to be cautious. You decided to put this down to too much coffee and shook yourself out of this mindset when you heard Boyle’s voice say your name. “(Y/N)? you good?” you looked up to see Charles and Jake looking at you, obviously you had been zoned out longer than you thought as you were already there. “Sorry. Was just in my head. We ready to go?” you deflected the question. You hadn’t told anyone about your background, partly because it was too risky but also because it was too difficult to physically say out loud. You had become used to being closed off to everyone. You guessed coming from no loving home does that to a person. Neither of them looked too convinced but they didn’t pry. All of the nine nine knew you were a damn good detective who could handle your own when you needed to. it was very rare that anyone on the squad let their emotions get in the way of the job. The three of you went over the plan before heading inside. It was simple really, go in disguised as prospect ‘recruiters’ (just a nicer way of saying kidnappers you thought), find out their system and report back to Holt with the information. An easy in and out. Well, obviously it was a little more complex than that, you had to make sure that you would be allowed back in for further recon and an eventual sting operation but otherwise it was simple. Fifteen minutes later you were inside and it was all going smoothly. You hadn’t made contact with the boss yet but you were being shown the place. You went into what looked like a regular Brooklyn property and led down below ground to a dank labyrinth of concrete walls and small rooms which held the poor, neglected children. Physically, this was easy, but emotionally, not being able to help the children you saw, you heard. It was heart-breaking. All three of you kept your resolve however, the best you could do for those children was keep your mouth shut so you could regain access and put these guys away for good. After being shown around by who you assumed to be the leader of this branch of the operation, the four of you began to talk details. “So when do we start?” Jake stated overconfidently, his default alter-ego for undercover work. The guy looked sceptically at Jake. He was a tall thuggish looking man with harsh facial features. The harsh fluorescent lighting of the bunker cast a shadow over his face making him look even more menacing. The entire case relied on him trusting you so it’s no surprise the three of you were tense. The guy took another glance at all of you, his eyes lingering on you for a second too long making your skin crawl. You felt Jake tense up beside you, his hand closing into a fist. You had no idea what had got into your partner and just hoped to god that this guy was too preoccupied to notice his behaviour. “yeah, alright.” He agreed, after what felt like hours, his eyes still locked with yours. You could see the clear lack of remorse in his eerily familiar eyes which only fuelled you to hold his stare. You felt the same unease that you had in the van but tried to banish these feelings for the sake of the case. After some time he smirked and looked back at Peralta, the interaction hadn’t gone unnoticed by either him nor Charles but no one dared to comment. “Come back tomorrow morning. We’ve got other recruits going out then, they’ll show you—” the thug was cut off by deafening sound of the door blasting open and the room filling with thick smoke. “Is this us?” you frantically asked Charles who shook his head in response, holt said to make no arrests, this shouldn’t be happening. The room was now engulfed in a white smoke which you saw was coming from a few canisters on the floor, one of which was at your feet. You kicked it away in an attempt to clear the room but it was futile. At this point you could hardly see a metre ahead of you. You, Jake, and Charles had your guns out but sheltered behinds a table turned over in the blast. Through the smoke you saw the figure of the man who gave you the tour escaping through another door. You started to run after him but felt a hand pull you gently back. You turned to be met with Jake shaking his head. Reluctantly, you repositioned yourself next to him behind the table. “No. It’s us.” An unfamiliar voice said through the smoke which had now begun to gradually thin. You could see Charles next to you now but the new assailant remained faceless. “oh my god…” you looked over at Jake and saw him open mouthed looking towards the door which was blocked by a silhouetted figure. Following his eyeline you saw the people you had been avoiding your entire life. At first it was the glint of the vibranium shield and the metal suit but as the smoke turned into a gentle fog you locked eyes with theirs. The avengers.
You all stood there in shock. Charles was the first to break the silence with his usual oblivious self; “Hey, Charles Boyle, my son is a massive fan!” Obviously forgetting he was undercover and that he looked just as guilty as anyone else in this place, he began to advance only to be met with an onslaught of ‘no closer’ remarks. At the same time he was met with the barrel of Black Widow’s pistol, an Iron Man repulsor, the hammer of Thor, and captain America’s shield. You quickly snapped out of your shock and became irritated, showing them your badge and advancing on the team in front of you against your better judgment. “We’re NYPD and this is an undercover operation? What the hell are you doing? Since when is this your jurisdiction?!” “uh (Y/N)” Jake tried to calm you down by putting his hand gently on your upper arm to stop you from saying something you’d regret, not to mention he was completely fangirling over being in the same room as the avengers and didn’t want to make a bad impression. “She didn’t mean that. Hey, Jake Peralta, New York’s best detective. Massive fan” he addressed them with his coy smile and an outstretched hand taken and shook by Steve Rogers. On doing so, Jake turned back to you excitedly mouthing ‘Captain America’ while smiling like an idiot. You rolled your eyes at his antics but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. The moment was short lived however when you remembered the mess they had made of the case. You began questioning the superheroes before you once more only to be interrupted by Romanoff; “this became our business since a majority of these children are mutants. They are our responsibility.” Her blunt manner in addressing you made you even more enraged, not to mention you had been keeping a low profile to stay away from these people for a reason. You were shocked to find out about the children, but you didn’t let this show on your features. You continued berating the people in front of you. “but you just blew MONTHS of police work!! Could you not have informed us of your involvement earlier? GOD you’re worse than the vulture!” you kept on. Both Peralta and Boyle were just staring in disbelief. Sure, you had been ticked off before but they had never seen you like this. At several moments each member of the avengers attempted to interrupt you yet all were unsuccessful. Not even Charles could cease your tirade. Despite all the anger however, you felt good. You had spent most of your life scared they would find you, but now, none of that mattered. “…and not to mention the absolute lack of tact! You let him get away in that stupid smoke! He was going to take us to the fucking boss!” at this point you had lost control of your emotions and only realised your mistake a second too late. Before you knew it, a discarded chair residing in the corner of the room flew across the open space only to smash into the filthy concrete wall to your left. If all eyes weren’t on you before, they certainly were now. You saw the realisation dawn on each of the superheroes faces. The room went deathly silent and you began to hear your heart beat faster, faster, faster. “…shit.” Was all you could utter. Thinking on your feet, you took advantage of the pause in the room caused by your outburst. It would only be a matter of seconds before they realised who you were and took you in. So you did the first thing you thought you could; you grabbed both of the dumbfounded detectives you had come with, not even taking the time to laugh at their ridiculous expressions, and teleported all three of you back to the nine-nine.
#jake peralta#avengers#loki x reader#jake peralta x reader#avengers x fem!reader#brooklyn nine nine#b99#thor#black widow#iron man#captain america#rosa diaz#rosa diaz x reader#steve rogers#tony stark#natasha romanov
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Wonder Woman 1984
The first 3/4 of 2017’s Wonder Woman was my favorite film of that year. The last 1/4 was my least favorite film of that year. What can I say, I have a complicated relationship with the DCEU, and the part I keep getting disappointed by is the big smash-em-up, explosions everywhere, muddy mess of orange/blue filter in the “climactic showdown” between hero and villain. I just don’t have the patience for it anymore, and I was so hoping that the Jazzercise vibes of Wonder Woman 1984 would do something different.
As it turns out, this movie was trying to warn me like so many stories that have come before - be careful what you wish for. Just how badly did my wish go bad? Well...
I’d already heard some questionable things about the movie before I tuned in, so my expectations were tempered but I guess it was on me. I should have known better than to wish for a story with reasonable pacing, some kind of consistent tone, villains with discernable motivation, or a Wonder Woman movie that was actually about fucking Wonder Woman. I’m not even mad as much as I am puzzled. That and tormented by Pedro Pascal’s manic televangelist energy in my dreams.
Some thoughts:
I have never wanted to go anywhere as much as I want to in 2020, and the place I want to go more than any other is Themyscira. Love this first sequence. Why is the whole movie not about Themyscira??
If the Olympics were like this whole long Amazonian warrior triathlon, I would be WAY more into track and field.
Also I legit don’t understand the problem with her taking the short path? Like, it’s there for a reason? She just caught up to her horse? Someone explain this to me.
So this mall...basically the hub of American commerce in the 80s that was practically printing money, it made it so fast...is secretly a front for antiquities trading on the black market? And these unorganized-ass dipshit criminals who seemingly just walked in off the street and decided to engage in some light robbery today are after antiquities? Sure, Jan.
Ohh I miss Waldenbooks so much!
This thwarting of crime sequence in the mall feels so...cheesy. Schlocky, almost. Like a 50s comic book come to life. I dunno, it just doesn’t feel like the tone I was expecting. In the context of the whole film, we really blew our action load in these first 2 sequences, and also this is the last point in the movie in which Diana actually resembles her character from the first film.
I would also be stammery and blushy when talking to Diana Prince for the first (and second) time, but I’m kinda getting a gay vibe from Barbara. This meet-cute + date is definitely playing up romantic vibes. Kristen Wiig is so good at characters like these - in less than 2 scenes, I have such a clear picture of who Barbara is, what she wants, what she fears, and that’s all down to Wiig’s choices. [ETA: This makes it all the more infuriating when Barbara suddenly is like “I want to be an apex predator” when nothing about her character’s reaction to getting positive attention indicates she would want to start shitting all over everyone else.]
Pedro Pascal is skeeving me out as our villain Max Lord, which really just shows his range, because normally I love him and find him wildly charming in everything. But he’s playing this oil baron creep to the max, as they would say in the parlance of the 80s, and it makes my skin crawl.
The mechanics of how Steve Trevor returns are wildly confusing. Why is this other guy involved at all? Are we supposed to be ok with the idea of Diana fucking *some other dude’s body* without his consent just because Steve’s spirit/consciousness/whatever is inside the guy? Also that guy DEFINITELY got fired from his job after going AWOL for a whole week, right?
I am thrilled with Steve’s clothes montage. One of my favorite things in any 80s film, and his enthusiasm really sells it.
I do really like Diana and Steve playing detective, following clues, crafting theories. In spite of the absolute dumbassery of how Steve came back, Chris Pine and Gal Gadot have incredible chemistry and I do find their scenes together delightful.
I think that’s why it’s so frustrating to me the way their entire relationship was handled. If the whole point of the wish going bad is that it has a cost, wouldn’t it have been better, instead of making Diana weak, to have Steve slowly start to be more and more of an asshole - aka not the Steve Diana remembered and loved? Make her realize that the Steve she knew and loved is really gone and she has to stop letting his memory hold her hostage. Maybe his last moment of self-awareness would be realizing that this wasn’t who he really was, and she was better off just remembering who he was and moving on rather than trying to hold on to this thing that isn’t good for her?
The sequence with the fireworks made me emotional. The only time I’ve ever been on a plane on the 4th of July was when I was coming back from a visit with my uncle in Dallas. He had flown me, my mom, and my grandma down for a whirlwind trip, and we flew back the night of the 4th. I got to see fireworks from above for the first time, and it felt so magical. My uncle passed away 2 months ago, and feeling that magic again (via Diana and Steve) made me miss him and all the adventure he brought into my life something fierce.
Am I supposed to be like...anti- the idea of Barbara absolutely kicking the shit out of this drunk catcaller who attempted to assault her earlier in the movie? It feels like the film wants us to be like “oh no that’s bad” but my empathy goes on vacation for attempted rapists.
Like...did anyone do ANY kind of fact-checking on this script? The Maya haven’t been “wiped from the face of the earth” there are still 6 million of them living in Central and South America. Escalators were invented in the 1890s for fucks’ sake. PLANES IN THE 80S DONT WORK LIKE PLANES IN 1918. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT ALL THOSE SWITCHES DO STEVE. Also...just because the plane is invisible doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist anymore. Isn’t the whole point of radar to detect things that you can’t, y’know, SEE? Seriously, how many people fiddled with this script until it turned into an incomprehensible mess?
Did I Cry? OK yeah, I did when Diana and Steve had their conversation after they escaped the White House. But I feel like I should have cried more then, as well as earlier when Diana tells Steve that she only wants this one thing. I love Gal Gadot in this role, but I do wish her acting expressed a little more emotional depth and honesty for the moments like this that should really tug on the heartstrings.
I know Wonder Woman is bulletproof, but are we saying she’s also...immune to electricity?
If there’s one thing that living through a global pandemic has taught me, it’s that we can’t rely on the inherent responsibility of every individual person to do the right thing in order to save their community (or the world). So the climax of this film really feels like a big ol’ fictional FUCK YOU to every person who has been quarantining since March as the US government twiddles their thumbs and relies on personal choice to lower infection rates. I know they made this film during 2019 and had no idea what would be coming, but this entire sequence was the most horrifying, short-sighted, offensive way to have good overcome evil I could imagine for a 2020 movie. “Just count on people to do the right thing and everything will be fine!” We’re WELL FUCKING PAST THAT, Diana.
And maybe this is my debbie downer pessimistic ass, but the message “the world is a beautiful place the way it was” feels like some real bullshit. Do you mean the world is a flawed, complicated place where beautiful things exist DESPITE all the violence, inequality, and poverty? Ok, that I’ll buy, for sure. But “Everything was fine the way it was!” is uhh not what I would have gone with. That’s a first draft edit if ever I heard one. Seriously, how did this make it through MULTIPLE studio drafts and no one thought to point this out?
I literally had to go back after the credits were over and rewind to figure out what happened to Pedro Pascal at the end. If I not only don’t care, but also can’t remember what happened to the villain at the end of the movie, that’s a big motherfucking problem.
I was giddily delighted by that first post-credits scene though! Probably the biggest moment of joy I felt during the film.
For being a Wonder Woman movie, it feels like there’s so little actual Wonder Woman IN the movie. The first film is rooted firmly in Diana finding her place in the world, understanding and coming into her power. This feels like she’s a bystander in her own life, and her most significant moments are always in the context of someone else’s narrative arc. And there’s nothing that comes even close to the breathless wonder of that No-Man’s-Land scene, aka one of the best superhero movie moments of all time.
This doesn’t have the knowing wink of Aquaman or the nuanced character arcs of Birds of Prey. It doesn’t have the childish glee of Shazam! or any of the nonsensical grimdark bullshit of Zack Snyder’s entire ouvre. It feels like Wonder Woman 1984 suffers the same fate as its protagonist - a profound lack of presence or drive. Sure there are some fun sequences, and the actors are doing the best they can with a weak script, but it’s just not enough to save it. In a year where I saw so few contemporary films (focusing more on catching up on past films I’d missed), I can’t think of one that disappointed me more.
#121in2021#wonder woman 1984#ww84#gal gadot#chris pine#pedro pascal#kristen wiig#patty jenkins#wonder woman#diana prince#steve trevor
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Trauma Center
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Last Christmas my mom continued her tradition of buying me a random bargain bin DVD for a stocking stuffer. I requested we discontinue this tradition as I have been slimming down my DVD/BluRay collection the past several years, and have traded in roughly a third of my movies, and buy far less than what I use to. I guess my mom could not break from tradition and thus we have today’s entry for 2019’s Trauma Center (trailer). Usually my mom’s hit-to-miss ratio is pretty solid on gifting me a film I have not seen yet and wound up loving with past examples like Sour Grapes, Alpha Dog, Blues Brothers and Trading Places. Trauma Center is a straight-to-video action movie one would find on the old “Movies for Guys Who Like Movies” pick of the night on TBS. It does have star power in the form of Bruce Willis as police detective Steve Wakes. Willis has been doing more straight-to-video efforts in recent years in other decent action films like Hard Kill and 10 Minutes Gone. It must be working out for him better than his theatrical efforts because I have no idea why he keeps up with these type of films. Digression aside, turns out Steve’s cover for his CI was tracked by a pair of corrupt cops, Tull (Texas Battle) & Pierce (Tito Ortiz).
Tull & Pierce take out the CI, but also injure innocent bystander waitress Madison (Nicky Whelan). They track her down to the hospital and discover the supposed secure room on a vacant floor Wakes sets up for her. What happens next is a game of cat-and-mouse with Madison doing her best to stay one move ahead and hold off the bad cops while Wakes pieces the clues together and attempts to assist Madison. Watching Madison adapt to her surroundings to fend off Tull & Pierce was actually entertaining, despite some too convenient camerawork at times that made it appear an injured Madison could pull off miraculous feats of strength. Tito Ortiz is a trip as the “bad cop” of the duo, and his overacting is probably the highlight of the film as he stalks and tortures Madison. Rest assured, he gets his well-earned comeuppance. Bruce Willis is as subdued in here as he was recently in his role in Glass. I am having difficulty determining if that is what he was shooting for, or if he was just going through the motions in this straight-to-video affair. If you are going into this thinking this is a Bruce Willis-lead action blockbuster, then you will be disappointed because this is a vehicle for Whelan’s survive-at-all-costs performance. Willis’s character is in the supporting role mostly doing background detective work until the final scenes. Whelan is pretty convincing in her effort at barely managing to stay alive, and the final act is fairly entertaining when all four figures have their respective standoffs.
Unsurprisingly, there are no bonus features on this DVD, not even a trailer! Regardless of that, I do not want to mislead you dear reader that I am praising the movie. I have seen a lot of straight-to-video action films, and this one is maybe a notch or two above average, but is by no means rush-out-and-see blockbuster. That is on the straight-to-video curve as well! The performances they got out of the cast seems about as good as it could get, and there are even a couple genuine moments I was kind of invested into Madison fending for herself. That said this film will not blow you away, but if you run across it on cable/streaming or the bargain bins, than it is an ideal movie to have on in the background with the occasional scene that will divert your attention. Factoring in all this curved grading, and I will chalk this one up as a semi-win for my mom’s annual random Christmas DVD! Other Random Backlog Movie Blogs 3 12 Angry Men (1957) 12 Rounds 3: Lockdown 21 Jump Street The Accountant Angry Video Game Nerd: The Movie Atari: Game Over The Avengers: Age of Ultron The Avengers: Endgame The Avengers: Infinity War Batman: The Dark Knight Rises Batman: The Killing Joke Batman: Mask of the Phantasm Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice Bounty Hunters Cabin in the Woods Captain America: Civil War Captain America: The First Avenger Captain America: The Winter Soldier Christmas Eve The Clapper Clash of the Titans (1981) Clint Eastwood 11-pack Special The Condemned 2 Countdown Creed I & II Deck the Halls Detroit Rock City Die Hard Dredd The Eliminators The Equalizer Dirty Work Faster Fast and Furious I-VIII Field of Dreams Fight Club The Fighter For Love of the Game Good Will Hunting Gravity Grunt: The Wrestling Movie Guardians of the Galaxy Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2 Hell Comes to Frogtown Hercules: Reborn Hitman I Like to Hurt People Indiana Jones 1-4 Ink The Interrogation Interstellar Jay and Silent Bob Reboot Jobs Joy Ride 1-3 Justice League (2017 Whedon Cut) Last Action Hero Major League Man of Steel Man on the Moon Man vs Snake Marine 3-6 Merry Friggin Christmas Metallica: Some Kind of Monster Mortal Kombat Mortal Kombat Legends: Scorpions Revenge National Treasure National Treasure: Book of Secrets Nintendo Quest Not for Resale Payback (Director’s Cut) Pulp Fiction The Punisher (1989) The Ref The Replacements Reservoir Dogs Rocky I-VIII Running Films Part 1 Running Films Part 2 San Andreas ScoobyDoo Wrestlemania Mystery Scott Pilgrim vs the World The Secret Life of Walter Mitty Shoot em Up Slacker Skyscraper Small Town Santa Steve Jobs Source Code Star Trek I-XIII Sully Take Me Home Tonight TMNT The Tooth Fairy 1 & 2 UHF Veronica Mars Vision Quest The War Wild The Wizard Wonder Woman The Wrestler (2008) X-Men: Apocalypse X-Men: Days of Future Past
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Some Kind of Curse- Chapter Six
Kris barely slept that night. Something was plaguing her mind, but she wasn't sure what it was. At 0530, she gave up trying to sleep, and decided to go on a run while Steve caught his last few hours of sleep. Throughout her five mile long run along the beach, Kris' mind couldn't help but to imagine what her new life would be like back home in Hawaii. When she was fifteen, she imagined herself in a completely different life. Dreams of being on the US Olympic volleyball team and touring the world playing the sport she loved while making lots of money seemed like a lifetime ago to her now at 33. Being forced to grow up at sixteen when her mother died and her father, consumed by grief and anger, sent her and Steve away to boarding school on the mainland while Mary got to stay with their aunt in Los Angeles. Kris was thankful for her life now though, she held no real resentment towards her father for everything that he did to her and her siblings- her and Steve got an amazing education at the Navy academy, and Mary got to truly live a free life in Los Angeles, just like she always dreamed of. Even at a young age, Mary told everyone that she was going to be a famous Actress in Los Angeles, where she could have everything she had ever wanted. The dream lasted a little while for Mary, until she nearly died from an overdose at age 25, which then lead to a bit of a downward spiral for her. Aunt Deb always took good care of Mary though, and helped her get back on her feet. Unfortunately, Steve and Kris could not be there to support her during this time, as their location for nearly ten years was on a strictly need-to know basis, thanks to them being in Naval intelligence and the SEALs. A lot of their adult lives were confidential, which lead to a big rift between them and Mary and Deb in LA. Mary blew them off in return, which Kris now understood that it was completely their fault, but Deb always made sure to check in on them whenever she could, and whenever they were able to.
Deb McGarrett had a heart of gold, and always saw the best in everyone. She never gave up on believing in Steve and Kris, and she knew that they were just as devoted to their jobs as her brother, their father once was. Deb secretly hoped that they would have a different and better life than John, but deep down, she knew that they would most likely have the exact same life as he once did, which was working until he died. Even when John was retired, he still worked every single day, up until his death. Deb hoped to god that Steve and Kris wouldn't end up like him, but she figured it was inevitable at this point. Thanks to John sending them away to boarding school, he practically sealed their fates. Deb hadn't talked to them in a few years now and was fearful for their futures. She hoped that they didn't become obsessed with his death as he did with their mother's death seventeen years ago.
--------- When Kris returns from her run, Steve is awake and fully dressed, after having gone on a (shorter) run of his own. He was ready for the day, and apparently had a full itinerary planned for the both of them. Kris quickly showered and got dressed, then listened to what Steve had planned out for the both of them. While Kris was out running, Steve asked the governor if they could borrow a car for the next few days until they could get the taskforce going, to which she agreed- there was a government Issue black SUV waiting outside for them as they spoke. Steve was going to go and recruit Detective Williams and get them to work with them on the case. Steve was impressed with his background, and after a quick little rundown on him, Kris was too. The next person that they had decided to ask to join their team was Chin-Ho Kelly. Even though Chin had been fired from HPD, Steve and Kris knew that he was still a good man and a cop. Chin was essentially an older brother to them when they were teenagers- he was always around their house, learning everything he could with their father, who was his training officer. Their father had trusted Chin with his life, and if John McGarrett could do that, then Steve and Kris could as well.
A coffee was quickly downed by each of the twins, then they head out for their day of recruiting. Steve had gotten Detective Williams' address from Duke, so that was their first stop. Steve pulled into the parking lot outside of the detective's shabby looking apartment complex, and hopped out, wishing his sister good luck.
Kris quickly hopped over to the driver's seat once Steve left, and drove over to Pearl Harbour, in hopes to find Chin-Ho working there. When she parks the car, she quickly goes over what she is going to say to him, then hops out of the car. Thankfully, it has stopped raining now, and it is a sunny and beautiful September day on the harbour. Kris tucks her phone in her pocket and makes sure that she has her wallet on her, then walks over to the gift shop, which is opening for the day. Thankfully, Chin-Ho is there, and he smiles when he sees her approaching.
"Hey, back so soon?" Chin asks, smiling as he begins to make his way over to Kris, who is now smiling back at him. They shake hands when they get close enough, then Kris asks if there is somewhere a little more private that they can talk. Chin quickly directs them inside the gift shop, which is still empty for the time being. Chin and Kris make a little bit of small talk, mostly about how happy Kris must be to be back home on the island after all these years. To be honest with herself and Chin, Kris is very glad to be back home and feel a little bit of normalcy in her life for the first time in a while. Deep down, she really hopes that the taskforce will work out well for them, and that they can hopefully settle down back home.
Once Kris and Chin are seated, Kris gets right to the point. "I'm just going to jump right in. Yesterday, the Governor gave Steve and I command of the new state taskforce to take down Hesse and his accomplices. By the looks of it, we will be special forces in a way, and Steve and I want you. We need someone we know we can trust, and I know that our old man trusted you. We also need someone who knows this island like the back of their hand. We need your help." Kris offers to Chin calmly. Chin sighs and looks down at the table. "I'm the last person that HPD wants to see with a badge again. We did not end on good terms." He replies, looking a little upset. He looks up at Kris, defeated. Kris nods, understanding his perspective. "I understand that. But this is not HPD. We will be working under the governor's command. No backing, no red tape. Just us, doing our own thing. Sure, we will butt heads with HPD occasionally, but you are going to have to face them one day. We are willing and ready to help you when you do so." She explains to him. Chin furrows his brows and looks a little skeptic towards the offer. Something like this must be too good to be true. "HPD thinks that I stole money from their evidence locker, what is going to stop you guys from thinking the same?" Chin challenges, hoping to call out Kris' bluff. He assumes that she must be bluffing at this point, because nobody gave second chances like this. Never. "My father trusted you with his life back in the day. You were a part of our family for a while Chin. If he can trust you, then so can we." Kris explains, now looking Chin in the eye, making sure that she can get a good read on him for the next thing she is going to ask. "I will only ask you this once, then it will never be brought up again by me or Steve. Did you take the money?" Kris asks sternly. Chin takes a deep breath and looks her in the eye before saying a firm "No.". Kris can't help but smile. "Good. Well, the offer still stands. This is your ticket back in the game, Chin." Kris tells him, and then stands up and pushes her chair in, waiting for his response. "You're sure you want me?" Chin asks once more. Kris nods. "alright. I'm in." He grins and stands up himself. He and Kris shake hands once more and smile at each other. "Welcome to the taskforce, Chin-Ho Kelly. Now please, raise your right hand." Kris says to him, and then swears him. Chin chuckles in disbelief once he is sworn in, then quickly heads to the staff area to grab his things. Kris heads outside to wait for him.
While waiting on the pier, she pulls out her phone and calls Steve, who fills her in on his little outing with Detective Williams, who was investigating the possible involvement of Fred Doran, a local arms dealer who may have set Hesse and his crew up with their weapons. Doran himself was a dead end, but his house revealed a big break- Doran was involved in human trafficking. Kris wasn't surprised to hear those words, as Victor and Anton Hesse were highly involved in many human trafficking rings around the world, so it was easy to assume that Hesse contacted a trafficker to get onto Hawaii. Kris quickly fills Steve in on her meeting with Chin, telling him that he agreed to join, and has been sworn in by Kris on a temporary basis until he can get sworn in by the governor. Steve tells her that the Detective is in as well, but Kris already knew that he was going to be, as Steve wasn't going to give him an option- he wanted him on the team no matter what. And if Kris was being completely honest with herself, she wanted him on the team too. His track record was great, and he was nice to look at too.
Chin meets up with Kris a few moments later, and she congratulates him again, then offers to give him a ride back to the palace, where they will be meeting up with Steve and Detective Williams. Chin declines, saying that he brought his bike to work today, so he would meet her there. Kris nods, and they go their separate ways.
Twenty minutes later, Kris parks the car at the Palace and waits for Chin to pull in beside her. They quickly make their way into the building and up the stairs to the new office. Kris gives Chin a little tour and lets him have first dibs on the three remaining offices. Chin chooses one and puts his bag down in there, and then heads out to meet Kris in the main room, where she fills him in on the case so far while they wait for Steve and the Detective to arrive. Within a few minutes, Steve and the Detective arrive, looking awfully grumpy and generally unhappy to be around each other- Danny wont even look Steve in the eye right now, due to his anger towards him and how bad the raid at Doran's house went. Danny had managed not to get shot in his six months on the island. But within one day of knowing the McGarretts, he managed to get shot. He was thoroughly unimpressed. He really hoped that this wasn't going to be a normal occurrence for him but based on the fact that Kris was already nursing an injured arm, he had a feeling it would be. Introductions are made, and the Detective insists on being called Danny, which Kris and Chin note. Danny seems to be favouring his left arm a little bit when Kris looks at him and quickly analyzes him. When Chin asks him about it, Danny grumbles something about a woman biting him, which confuses Kris a little bit, but she doesn't question it any further. The moral of the story is his arm is injured. Kris makes a mental note to ask Steve about it later.
The new team then gathers around the table and discusses Steve and Danny's new findings. Thankfully, Chin pipes up and says that he may know someone who can help with the trafficking lead, which is a relief to Steve, Danny and Kris, who had no idea how to pursue that lead. Steve and Kris had hoped that having a local as well known and liked as Chin would help them out. And they were right. "My guy may have the information, but he probably won't give it to you. He's not the biggest fan of haoles." Chin explains to the three outlanders who definitely would not pass as locals. "but he'll talk to you, right?" Steve asks. "if the price is right, yeah. His name is Kamekona Tupuola. He used to be a big-time gambler and arms dealer, 'till he got handed a five-year sentence in Halawa. He got out a few years back and since then, he has been running a legit shrimp and shaved ice truck. He still has connections to the black market though, so he may be able to help us out." Chin explains to everyone, who is listening intently. "and he can be trusted?" Danny asks the question that was in everyone else's mind. Chin nods. "He is a well-known CI with most of HPD. You may not have heard of him in homicide, but he was well known in organized crime and robbery. He's good. He helped me a lot in HPD." Chin replies, reassuring Danny, Steve and Kris all at once. Kris slaps the table. "alright, let's get a move on then." She says to her team, grinning. She digs her SUV keys out of her pocket and tosses them to Steve so he can drive. She technically isn't supposed to be driving with her arm in a sling, so it's better if Steve does the driving until her arm is feeling a little bit better.
They all then file out of the office and back downstairs and to their cars. Kris ends up hopping in Danny's car, while Steve and chin take the SUV. Kris really wants to get a proper first impression on the detective, and she wants to make sure that he is a good fit for the team. Steve seems to think so based off of their meeting in the garage of their house, but Kris, being the control freak and leader she is, wants to be sure. She learned quickly in the Navy that she needs to be able to trust her co-workers and team members in order for their ops to go well, so she needs to make sure that Danny will fit in well. She already knows Chin will.
The first few minutes of the drive are silent while Danny and Kris try to feel each other out and figure out what is going on in each other's heads. Danny is still angry about Steve's impulsive actions back at Doran's house, which could have easily gotten them both killed, but that was not what was bothering him. What was truly bothering him was Steve's complete lack of empathy and common sense. Steve did not have a way with words, and so far, had come off pretty rude and offensive towards Danny, which just made him feel miserable. Danny was already dealing with enough misery in his life- he hated Hawaii with all of his being- but now, he had no choice to deal with a complete and utter moron who had no people skills and would most likely end up getting him killed before he can see his sweet Grace graduate elementary school. Danny secretly hoped that Kris had the brains between the twins and was a lot better with her people skills than her neanderthal of a brother, but he definitely wasn't getting his hopes up. Kris on the other hand, was trying to figure out what made Detective Williams- Danny- tick. She didn't get to go in his apartment with Steve to get a real feel for him, and she only looked over his work file quickly, which really does not give her the full picture. He drives a Silver Camaro that is in impeccable shape, meaning that he is not a slob and that he is a good driver. So far, he hasn't done anything too reckless yet, meaning that he is quite careful too. Kris glances over to his visor and sees a picture of a little girl and a post card of New Jersey. She quickly thinks back to his file and recalls that he has a daughter, and that he transferred from Newark PD six months ago. Kris hasn't noticed a wedding band or anything on his person, meaning that he must be separated or divorced; he probably transferred out to Hawaii to be closer to his daughter by the looks of it. Kris makes a mental note to ask either Danny or Steve about it when it is appropriate. And finally, Kris takes a closer look at how Detective Williams presents himself. His blonde hair is always perfectly styled back, and he always makes sure to wear a tie with his dress shirts, meaning that he definitely cares about his appearance, and still is clinging onto the mainland, where detectives wear suits and ties. Here on Hawaii, the dress code is a lot more informal; it's hot year-round, and the only time suits are worn are weddings and funerals. Most detectives wear polos or Hawaiian shirts, which would be completely inappropriate on the mainland. Based on Danny's resentment towards Steve so far, He probably isn't impressed with Steve's lack of communication or people skills, so Kris makes sure to not tease him about anything for the time being. Good first impressions matter, especially when you are supposed to be working together and having each other's backs in dangerous situations. Based on all of this, Kris has a good idea about how to approach him now.
"So," She begins, "Steve wooed you with his great communication skills, right?" Kris chuckles, now looking over at Danny when they stop at a light. Danny scoffs. "What gave you that idea?" Kris smiles cheekily. "I've spent thirty years with the man. I think I know how dreadful he can be when talking human beings." She tells him. Danny raises his eyebrows and exhales loudly through his nose, half laughing. "so, what-" He says, and now looks over at Kris. "he's the brawn and you're the brains?" he asks, then looks back at the road and continues to drive, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. Kris shrugs. "more or less. It's more like... we're both the brawns and brains, but him more so the brawns and me more so the brains. People skills are not his strong suit." "yeah, I learned that real quick." Danny mutters, now thinking about his throbbing arm. "He'll grow on you. He always does. He's kind of like a parasite in that way." Kris jokes, hoping to break the tension building between her and Danny now. Danny just nods, obviously not too impressed. "I just don't wanna end up six feet in the ground, okay? I got a kid, I wanna see her grow up- and with him being all impulsive and shit, I'm gonna get killed! I'm not a Navy SEAL like you two. I do things by the book, and I do things to stay alive- I do not have a death wish like you two." Danny says with a little bit of urgency- to kris, he sounds quite angry and upset about this. Kris nods, now understanding his perspective. "okay. Okay. I can work with that. So can Steve, but we just need a little bit of time to adjust, you do need to understand that we have been in the navy since we were eighteen. Old habits do die hard, unfortunately." Kris explains to him, which causes him to loosen up a little bit. He sighs. "I- I didn't think about that. You're right. Sorry- Steve really got me goin'." Danny chuckles. Kris can't help but to smile at the detective. "I know. He's good at that. I just tune him out if he gets like that with me." She confesses, making Danny laugh again. When Danny stops at the next light, he turns and looks at Kris again. They half smile at each other. "And Danny," Kris begins in a softer voice, "We will do everything in our power to get you home safely to your daughter, okay? You have my word. And Steve's. He may not act like it, but he means it." she smiles sadly at him, feeling her heart pang in her chest. Kris tries not to think about the day that her mother didn't come home from work, but at times like these, she can't stop it. She still remembers seeing her father collapse in shock and devastation at the door- the gut-wrenching sobs that escaped her father's lips that day have been permanently trapped in her mind for nearly two decades now.
"thank you," Danny says softly, as he pulls up to the parking lot of the shrimp truck next to the SUV that Chin and Steve drove in. Danny and Kris hop out of the car and greet Steve and Chin, who are already out of the SUV and waiting. Kris nods at Chin, and he leads the way to the window of the shrimp truck.
#Hawaii Five-O#hawaii five o#Hawaii Five-0#H50 fic#h50#steve mcgarrett#kris mcgarrett#Danny Williams#chin ho kelly#Kono Kalakaua
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Better Like This- Chapter 1: The Squad
Chapter Summary: Reader is on her way to her new department, the SVU, or as people like to call them, the Avengers. She thinks back to her previous department and is introduced to the squad. Nothing can happen, right?
Warnings: I used one swear word, sue me, other than that: none, it is a police AU, beware
Pairing (in this chapter): Alpha!Tony x Omega!Bruce, Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader,
Word Count: 2121
A/N: This is really just an introductory chapter to get this thing going. Bear with me please, it will get better, I promise. More action coming soon! x
Series Masterlist __ Masterlist
Your feet carried you along the hallway. This was it, you were finally here. The one place you’ve dreamed about, the ones towards which all of your hopes were inclining. The special victims unit of New York’s police. Most people, however, called them the Avengers for the dedication to avenging the unfortunate victims’ souls and lives. You knew you couldn’t work for this team unless someone put a good word for you and your well-done job.
So you kept your head down, and after the police academy went to work for the missing persons unit to prove you were a more than capable of handling the job. One thing that stood in your way, and not only in the police work was your presentation. Ever since you presented as Omega when you were 17, your life changed dramatically. You were used to the stereotypes and aggressive and touchy Alphas by now, and with your training, you could take on most of them.
You could, however, see that most Alphas in the police academy and then later in your previous unit weren’t trusting your skills and they were undermining your every step of the way. But you came back stronger, more determined and definitely more than ready to show all those assholes that you were more than a womb for their seed or a pretty face. You were tough! And you were about to prove it!
The team of the SVU was a big one, the whole police department knowing that these were the crimes most common in NY and in this case, the more, the merrier. The unit was run by an Alpha, naturally, but from what you heard, he was one of the good ones.
His name was Captain Rogers, and from the photos you’ve seen from the numerous arrests you saw, he was really handsome, with that big bulky arms and enchanting eyes. Not really your type if you were honest with yourself, he looked like too much of a goody-goody, but, who knows, right? But looks aside, all departments knew that this Captain was fair, doing his job so well some people wanted to see him in a chair of a Commissioner, even though he was only 30-35, who could tell, right? You were actually really excited to work for/with him and most importantly, to learn from him. Hopefully, you’d get the chance.
Other than him, however, you didn’t really know anyone from the team. You could maybe tell one or two names, but that was it. You really hoped these people, even though most probably mostly Alphas, were not as horrible as your previous team. You didn’t mean to offend anybody, but they really were just bunch of knot-headed idiots…
All except the only Beta on the team, and your rock for the past two years. His name is Vision or short Vis, and he really was one of the main reasons why you stayed on the team and didn’t give up on your dream. It was him telling you almost every day that you were good enough and that you could do big things, if only you wanted and were determined enough to actually start doing them. Soon after you guys met, he introduced you to his fiancé, Wanda, also a Beta, who is an artist- she does everything from oil painting to creating sculptures from old washing machines (yup, she’s done that!).
Sure, you did have some friends from college, but you mostly lost touch with them, never really feeling as if you fitted between them. The Alphas really only saw you as a piece of meat, and the Omegas… well, they were friendly, and all but you could see that their only aspiration in life was to get mated, give their Alphas as many pups as they could and.. that was it.
However, there still was one exception (there always was, right?) and you were thanking whatever God was sitting upstairs for bringing her into your life. Her name was Gamora and, just like you, she wanted to prove to everyone that Omegas were as valuable in the society as any Alpha. She was now part of the fire department in NY, the only Omega in the whole unit, and you couldn’t have been more proud of her.
You stopped before the door to the office. You shouldn’t be thinking about your whole life right before you’re starting a new job. You cleared your throat, took three calming breaths and opened the door.
What you could already tell from just the one step you took into the open-office, was the lighter air that surrounded you. You could smell all three presentations mingling in the air, and the atmosphere could only be described as calm. Which is definitely not the word you would use to describe your previous job. Sure, stressful, constricted, too-much-testosterone, those words you could use, but calm? Friendly? Never.
Few people looked up from their works, slightly nodded their heads and smiled, but nothing really more than that as you continued on your way to the Captain’s personal office.
Knock, knock. “Come in,” you heard from the inside of the room. “Ah, detective Y/L/N. You are a little early, I like that!” He smiled, warmly at you as you shook his hand. “Captain Rogers, I’m really thankful for this opportunity and-“you couldn’t finish your sentence as he raised his hand and smiled again. “Don’t thank me, detective. It was your hard work and so many successful arrests and finding of the missing people that got you this job. We are thrilled to have you here.”
You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. When he raised the hand, you really expected him to shut you up by saying that he had to employ you, or that he doesn’t expect you to last so you shouldn’t really be thankful. But the warmth which radiated from him, his friendly smile, those were not the things you were prepared for.
“So, to get to the work, I’ll pair you up with one of our senior detectives, Scott Lang. Give me a sec.” He went around you, opened the door and yelled: “Hey, Lang, your new partner’s here.”
Which was followed by a loud laughing howl by what you thought was Scott. “Excuse him, he is just a big child sometimes, but somehow, he is really good at his job.” Steve looked at you, half amused. “’s ok. I’m really used to pretty much anything, sir.” You smiled at him as you smelt an Alpha coming to the office.
“You must be Y/L/N! I’m so excited to meet you! I mean, sheesh, your stats? Unbelievable, you gotta show me all your secrets, dude!” He then grabbed you and pulled you into a bear hug. What the fuck is happening?
“I mean when I heard I was gonna be paired up with you? Man, I almost fainted! You are like a fracking legend thanks to that Rumlow arrest!” He was literally beaming. You couldn’t help your own smile as you watched the Alpha ramble on and on.
You giggled when Captain stopped Scott from going on with his outburst. “Alright, you can fangirl over your partner later, Lang,” he turned to you with an apologetic shrug, to which you just smiled and rolled your eyes playfully. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the squad, and after that, we got a job to do. Come on.”
“Listen up, squad. This is detective Y/N Y/L/N. Detective, this is your new squad, your new family. Detective Tony Stark,” he showed you a smaller Alpha, with a smirk on his face, obviously full of himself but he didn’t look at you like you were a piece of meat. Just amused look seeing a newbie, really.
“He is also like our IT genius, so whenever you have a problem, he is your person.” The Captain continued. You both just nodded at each other, and the introduction continued. “This is his Omega, doctor Bruce Banner, he is our forensic guy and pretty much anything science-going on, it goes through him.” Bruce hugged you, “It is so nice to meet you, it must be overwhelming to come to such big new squad, but these idiots are really fine.” He smirked at you, and you laughed. “Hey, who you calling an idiot, huh? We’ll talk about it at home, LOVE!” Tony’s voice beamed behind Bruce. He just rolled his eyes and shrugged, “Yeah, whatever you say, my big bad Alpha.”
You really laughed out loud and even snorted a little, which caused little laughs all around the squad. “With a laugh like that? You’ll be just fine here, sweetheart.” Said the only female voice on the team, a Beta who introduced herself as Natasha. You liked her immediately. “I haven’t heard such teasing between Alphas and Omegas in a long time, that’s all.” “Well, sweetie, get used to it because the teasing here? That’s a daily tea!” She smiled and winked. “Oh I can’t wait, bring it!” You all laughed when suddenly, the front door opened.
Before you could actually notice who was coming in, you could smell them. Two Alphas. One’s smell was very regular, and due to your suppressants (which you were really taking as a precaution in your line of work), all Alphas smell more or less the same to you. You can smell the testosterone and the “strength” if you could call it that.
But the other Alpha was different. You took another whiff of air, and it suddenly hit you like a tidal wave. This Alpha (you couldn’t yet see if it was a man or a woman, due to the squad surrounding you) smelled like heaven to you. It was a combination of sandalwood, the smell of forest shortly after rain and something else, like a spice which you weren’t able to identify. But you didn’t really care.
The only thing running through your mind was one word: MATE! MATE! MATE! Was it possible?
Not that you didn’t believe in true mates, your heart was romantic enough to keep that hope alive. But as you were growing older, and none of the Alphas you met ignited any fire in you, you started to slowly give up.
But now you were sure. He or she was here and though you would never say it out loud, the Omega in you started purring contently. You could remotely hear the team talking about something, a joke maybe? You weren’t sure as you went on your tip-toes to try and see who walked through that door. You could see 4 eyes looking your way, one pair brown and you felt that those weren’t those eyes you were looking for.
The second pair was icy blue and when you looked into them, you felt as if the Alpha could see right into your soul. You wanted to look away, tried not to be the stereotypical Omega, but you just couldn’t make yourself let go.
There was a scenario in your head, for when you’d meet your Alpha. You tried not to think of it, but it was there, in the back of your mind. You would look at each other, walk towards each other, touch each other’s cheek and smile and just be happy. You didn’t need a fairytale, just this little act of future love and affection.
Your feet, therefore, carried you towards this Adonis of an Alpha, still looking into his eyes. What you didn’t expect, however, was the Alphas loud growl. It stopped you in your tracks. You wanted to whine but stopped yourself. You were an adult with some self-control. Even if you could feel this control slipping away each second you were in the Alpha’s presence.
He snarled, shook his head and turned around to run out of the open-office and, probably, outside of the building too.
The whine escaped your lips however hard you tried to suppress it. What was this Alpha’s problem? You immediately started to blame yourself, for probably not being his type, or not being pretty enough, but you stopped yourself. You used to blame yourself for every little misstep, for every bad mood of your father’s, Christ, even for the rain pouring down too hard when you had to do something outside. But the longer you spent with good friends like Gamora or Vis you realised, other people’s issues had mostly nothing to do with you.
So you knew that this wasn’t your fault! He just left without even getting to know you, touching you… What was this Alpha’s problem?
Next chapter>
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x reader (platonic, “siblings”)
Request: Can you do a one shot or a series where the reader is a healer and falls in love with Bucky? I also love fake dating au’s so if you can add that in, I would love you so muchhhhh. Thank you
Trigger Warnings for this Chapter: Blood, medical setting, one or two swear words
Author’s Note: This happens in a sort of after Civil War AU. I deny the existence of the plot of about half that movie… I “threw out” the Sokovian Accords in a sense. Pietro Maximoff is not dead because why not. It will probably take me a few chapters to get to the fake dating au part. I was going to make this a one shot but then it became a full blown series so poop.
MASTERLIST
“Love is the most beautiful of dreams and the worst of nightmares.”
Chapter One
“Steve!” You ran up to Steve and pulled him into a tight hug.
He moaned in pain from the battle he had just fought. You had been worried sick about him since you heard about the “civil war”. It had been about a year since Bucky Barnes had shown up and decided to not kill Steve. You had been at the scene where Steve was found beaten and bloodied. You were unsure how you felt about the Winter Soldier at first. It took Steve a long time to convince you that he was good after SHIELD fell. You still were unsure of the possibility of the Winter Soldier ever being the “Bucky Barnes” that Steve knew ever again.
Stark had explained to you what had happened when you returned to the United States. You had collected enough from the news to put together that this whole thing was a giant mess. The moment you landed in the country, you realized that it was even more of a disaster than you originally expected. Customs tried to detain you before you got a call in to a US senator. The senator remembered that he owed you a favor and that you were cashing it in now.
You arrived at the hospital where Rodney was in a paralytic state. 13 hours later, their surgery was over. Here you were in exhaustion and the work still wasn’t done on all the Avengers, or what was left of the “team”. Healing people with your powers took the energy out of you quickly, but when needed you could even heal yourself from fatigue.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were here. I thought you were still in Russia.” Steve pulled away from hugging you so he could observe you. He noted that you were wearing a pair of navy scrubs but had a belt with a handgun strapped around your waist. He noted that you remained calm all though you had just entered a narrative that you was not previously part of until now.
Your biggest worry at the moment was the pain that he had to be in. His whole aura was crying out with exhaustion and agony. He had never done a good job of hiding his physical pain from you. You grabbed his hand and summoned the power to pull the pain out of him. The bruise of his black eye slowly turned back to its regular light color and his cuts pulled themselves together.
“Thanks.” He muttered as he watched your eyes turn back from a iridescent gold to their regular color.
“I got out of Rodney’s 13 hour reconstructive surgery about a half hour ago and had to pull a bullet out of Pietro’s back. Tony called me after the last surgeon botched Rodney’s back. I cut my mission short. Came back to the US.
“I was able to trade that surgery for this.” You paused and slowly nodded to yourself as your lips pressed together. You walked over to a closet and punched in a code. You slightly opened the door to place on your hand on the cold metal of Cap’s shield. You yanked it up from the ground as it was always heavier than you expected.
“You traded him for this?” He took the weight of the shield from your hands.
“You’re right I should have charged more considering the hell I went through at customs.” You said sarcastically. You thought about how the transportation security administration agents had attempted to arrest and detain you.
“I don’t want it.” Steve didn’t look you in the eyes. He tried to hand it back to you. You threw your hands up in refusal.
“Steve, take the damn shield. It is a peace offering, I didn’t ask for it. I only told him that he owed him and this is what he gave me in return for the surgery.”
“Do you know what happened?” Steve questioned you. You could see his anger shining through. This did not phase you at all. This was the reaction you had expected from him when he saw the shield.
“I know he ripped Bucky’s arm off. I know he tried to imprison half the team while I was gone.” He saw that your exterior was completely calm even though Tony’s actions caused you rage too. “I talked to him about the consequences of the Accords… He’s going to have some lawyers look into it and get amendments made. The main governing body will be the new reconstructed SHIELD. I’ve also got a couple of favors due high up in the US government.
You paused again as Steve took in the new information. He didn’t respond to you even though you knew he trusted your words. “That won’t fix what has happened or what he did. It won’t mend this mess, but, Steve, it is better than the alternative.” They stood together for a few seconds in silence before Steve agreed.
“Where is your friend?” You wondered as you had seen every other former member of the broken up Avengers. God, you couldn’t believe the disaster that had happened while you were gone. They broke up, like a freaking band.
“He’s in 413. Would you mind taking the shrapnel out of his chest? Getting his arm fixed by the Wankandans wasn’t great. He might trust you more considering you haven’t tried to kill him and you are essentially a sister to me.” Steve looked to you with hope gleaming in his eyes. You couldn’t deny him the aid for his friend. The idea of it made you uncomfortable. You were like Bucky once and Steve had helped you. Now, this was your turn to do the same for Steve’s friend.
“Okay,” you thought to herself for a moment, “How is he? Stark didn’t tell me much…”
“He’s doing better, not perfect though.”
“Better is as much as anyone can ask for someone who came from HYDRA.” Your words came out in a low tone.
“Y/N, sorry, I-.” Steve tried to pull you into a hug because he felt bad for mentioning it.
“It’s fine.” You pulled away from him before he could get his arms around your body. “I’m going to go get some tools. Can you tell him that I’m coming to remove the pieces?”
“Yes. Thank you so much, Y/N.” Steve patted you on the back and you forced a smile at him.
“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m Steve’s friend, but I guess he already told you that much…” You entered the room and looked at Bucky. He seemed rigid and you noted his eyes on the gun at your hip. “Don’t worry, the gun is not for you. I don’t go anywhere unarmed anymore after…” You began to say too much so you stopped.
“I’m Bucky.” His voice came out roughly. He knew that you knew who he was and the opposite was true also.
“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” You exchanged the formality.
“Do you mind if I, uh, pull the metal out of your chest?” You trailed and pointed at his chest. Your eyes fell on his arm which had been reattached already. Looking at it was strange. The arm did not make you uncomfortable, the whole concept was just foreign how it would even work you had no idea. Your knowledge of the body told you no such thing should be able to move even with nerves attached correctly. Was there a blood supply to it?
“That’d be great.” He gave you an incredibly fake smile.
You could tell he was uncomfortable with your presence. You decided to ignore this and do as Steve had asked. You sat down and pulled some gloves on. He removed his shirt to expose an extremely toned stomach. You tried to not let your eyes stare for too long. You knew that he was so muscular because of what HYDRA had done to him.
“This is gonna hurt a bit.” You began wiping away the blood on his chest with an alcohol swab.
Most of your patients would at least jerk away with alcohol going into an open cut yet he didn’t even move. You couldn’t detect any pain in his aura. Your eyebrows raised a little bit because you were expecting more of a reaction. You continued without saying anything.
He watched you as you were intensely staring into his arm as you tried to find the small pieces of metal without hitting veins or arteries. You were smaller than he had expected. Bucky was fascinated that you could stand the smell of blood and the sight without getting sick. He wasn’t flinching as you removed pieces of shrapnel out of his muscle tissue or when you was rubbing alcohol swabs on his bare skin to remove the blood.
The two of you had been sitting in silence for probably 10 minutes. Both of you refusing to talk or more so having nothing to say. You moved closer to his bare and bloody chest to begin to work on the more intimate area. You felt uncomfortable and slightly scared to be this close to him. You knew it was easy to set of the Winter Soldier inside of him and you worried any movement you made would.
He was not reacting at all to what should have been pain. It was upsetting you a bit because pain was a normal reaction to what you were doing. This was making the situation more uncomfortable. You almost wanted him to cry out so you wouldn’t have to sit in complete silence. It also did not help the fact that Pietro was staring at the two of you from his own bed across the hallway. You had already healed him, but he chose to stay in the hospital wing to “recover”. You knew he had chosen to stay to make sure Bucky did not make a move on you. Pietro had been trying to get you to go out on a date with him for months, but you continued to refuse. He was overzealous in his pining for you and continued to make you more uncomfortable every time you were present with him.
“You know, you’re awfully nice for someone who was in HYDRA…” Bucky’s voice was completely calm. You stopped for a second then continued to remove a piece of metal and drop it into the basin.
“Funny you say that…” You muttered for a split second before deciding to tell him what Steve hadn’t. “I used to be in the US Army, like you. Like Steve. That was before things changed.”
“I’m sorry.” Bucky made an attempt for forgiveness. The situation was still uncomfortable. You decided to accept his apology. It wasn’t his fault that Steve had not told him.
“Don’t worry. Steve doesn’t tell my friends what I don’t want them to know.”
“I’m your friend, now?” The edges of Bucky’s lips turned upward. This was the first time you had ever seen him smile. You made eye contact with the man before sensing Steve coming around the corner.
“What’s up, Steve?” You asked with inflection in an escape from Bucky’s question.
“Everything okay in here?” Steve wondered aloud.
“Yes,” you answered before Bucky could say anything. You flicked your hair out of your face for a second before continuing. You noted Pietro staring at you again and determined you could get Steve to do your bidding. “But can you get Pietro to stop staring at me? It is creeping me out. Also tell him the answer is, number one, no and, number two, I don’t care that he just “nearly died”. ”
Pietro was always saying that “he was in pain” or “nearly died” to get you to “heal” him again. You would pretend to do something and make your eyes glow so he actually thought you had just to get him to go away. Whether you were leading him on or not, you were unsure.
“Gotcha. You’re in good hands, Buck.” Steve patted the Winter Soldier on the shoulder.
“Thank you!” You called after Steve as he left. He held up a thumbs up to you.
You glanced up for a moment and watched Steve go over to Pietro’s bed. Pietro paused for a moment as Steve told him to go then noticed you watching him. You narrowed her eyes at him in hopes that he would get the message: “I will kill you if you don’t leave”. He headed for the door which let your tight shoulders relax by the moment he was out of sight.
“Overprotective boyfriend?” Bucky wondered as he noticed your muscles release their tenseness down.
“No, actually. Ever since I healed him, he has been asking me out for weeks. It is driving me insane.” You groaned and shook your head.
“Won’t take no for an answer?” Bucky seemed to like your annoyance with Pietro.
“I guess not… Bucky, I’ve seen men die with more grace than how he takes a minor flesh wound.” You waved a piece of shrapnel for emphasis before dropping it in the trash.
Bucky chuckled to himself. You laughed a bit and a small smile appeared on your face. You hid it the moment you felt it appearing. What you didn’t know was that Bucky was thinking how he liked you more than the other members of the Avengers that he had met. You were very calm with your voice soft and comforting.
You pulled out a particularly large piece of metal. “You have a very high pain tolerance…” You remarked uncomfortably as you dropped this one in the basin.
“When you’ve been through the things I have, you develop one.” Bucky sullenly commented to you. You met his eyes for a moment, but looked down again, going back to work. You pulled out the last piece and pulled away from his toned chest.
“I wish I couldn’t understand, but I can.” You said offhandedly then set down the tweezers as you rolled on your stool towards the trash can. You removed the soiled gloves then disposed of them. You rolled the surgical table away from Bucky. Something about you interested Bucky. He used to would have never gone for a girl like you, he though to himself. Secretive and toned down. Since his time in the cryogenic stasis, he had changed.
You noticed thoughts running through his head and decided to change the subject quickly. You didn’t like talking about how Hydra tortured you.
“Okay, we are through the worst part now, but you have to promise me that you don’t have any other wounds with shrapnel in them that I don’t know about. It will be a lot harder to take it out after I do this, so tell me now.” Your eye brows were creased in the middle with worry. This was where you were most worried. Going in his head scared you more than removing the metal pieces. Yet the 30 minutes you had spent with Bucky seemed to make you less scared than you were when you walked in the room.
“I promise.” Bucky promised her with a nod.
“All right then.” Your voice faded off. All though you were nervous, you did this to team members all the time. He was a team member now. “This shouldn’t hurt at all. It might be warm though.”
Bucky watched as you let your hands carefully fall on his forearm and opposite shoulder.
Your eyes drifted shut and he began to feel a warm current running up his arms. Your hands glittered with the golden dust of your power. You took in a deep breath as you found his wounds which scared Bucky for a second. You felt his heart rate jump through the connection between the two of you. A grin appeared on your lips. You stifled a giggle about his reaction. He almost laughed when he noticed his skin growing warm in a spot where it was pulling itself together and turning from a bright red to a soft pink then a natural tan. Your eyes opened and they were still glowing a golden color for a second.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…�� You told him as you pulled your hands away. The euphoria of your power faded as you let it go. He was still examining his skin in shock that he didn’t have any scars. He noticed you looking at his other arm, the metal one. You broke your gaze from it immediately when his eyes caught yours. You had felt your body trying to heal where a human arm was supposed to be. You prevented the power from taking over and trying to do that.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but… I could fix… that…” You paused awkwardly as you tried to assess if you were upsetting him. “For you…”
Your gaze held his for the first time and you did not immediately look away in fear. He smiled at you and shook his head.
“No, Y/N. Thank you for offering, but I don’t want you to do that. It’s part of me now…” He misjudged your reaction of relief and began to panic. “I don’t mean to insult you. I-, I-.”
You only laughed and with a blush creeping up on your cheeks. “Don’t worry, Bucky. I understand more than anyone.” You looked up and met his eyes once more.
“Thank you, Y/N.” He set a hand on your shoulder. It made you slightly uncomfortable to be touched by him so you made up a reason to leave.
“I’m glad I was able to help.” You turned your head away from him as if you heard something. “I’ve gotta go, I can hear Stark bitching in his room.”
You looked towards the door and his hand fell from your shoulder. You stood and headed out. You walked past Steve who was making his way back in to check on Bucky. He patted you on the back and stopped you by the shoulder. He asked if you were okay. You just nodded to him then continued on your way.
“What did you think of Y/N?” Steve asked once you were out of ear shot. He leaned up against the wall and watched his fellow soldier.
“She is not at all what I expected.” Bucky chuckled.
“You two have a lot in common.” Steve raised his eyebrows.
“Steve, am I confused or are you trying to suggest something?” Bucky shook his head.
“I don’t know, Bucky. You tell me.” Steve stared into his soul.
“You know, I am the one who usually does this for you, right?”
Thank you for reading. Please give a like, reply, or reblog for more content in the future. I also am taking one shot requests go ahead and send your idea in to see it brought to life!
Chapter Two
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#reader#reader insert#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes series#the winter soldier#steve rogers#fanfiction#fan fiction#bucky barnes fan fiction
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Seeds
Before I read it, I had this idea I could write a review of Ann Nocenti and David Aja’s The Seeds for the Comics Journal, but the book just sucked too much. It had basically nothing going for it, or even decipherable as an advancing plot. One thing wrong with it is there’s this sort of conspiracy element, or this “no one believes the news” anymore element of it, but Nocenti didn’t want it to be about “fake news.” Donald Trump has rewired the narrative, so now entire types of subject matter feed into this propaganda machine simply by being addressed. Nocenti’s best work does not shy from topicality, addressing the currents in the cultural air, but this time the modern world feels too hot to handle.
I ordered the Daredevil: Typhoid’s Kiss trade paperback, reprinting a bunch of Nocenti’s work with the Typhoid Mary character from the nineties. The longest story in there is a miniseries with art by John Van Fleet. It’s partly about post-Tarantino video-store employees turned filmmakers kidnapping Typhoid Mary to use her as the subject of a documentary about serial killers and violent media. It’s also about Typhoid Mary working as a private detective trying to track down a killer of prostitutes, who the police don’t care about, and are maybe the actual killers of themselves. Storywise, it’s a pretty cool attempt to address real-world issues of the day within a pulp context.
Van Fleet’s art is pretty boring and bad in a way that’s distinctly ahead of its time. While the miniseries itself probably wouldn’t exist without the precedent of Elektra: Assassin a decade before, (a spinoff about a female Daredevil villain created by the writer during their run on Daredevil where that character defined their run) all the photoreference that’s probably actually just photo backgrounds run through filters sets a precedent for the Alex Maleev/Matt Hollingsworth Daredevil stuff to come a decade later. And it’s frequently annoying on a page design/panel background level. Like in terms of how the panel borders sort of default to grid shapes so there ends up being things that “read” as panels but that don’t actually do anything for pacing. It’s just fitting the narrative into regimented design choices.
This maybe only happens the once. But the art is also just super-stiff throughout, with a very chunky line that eliminates any real nuance. There’s a bunch of characters, but a lot of them are indistinguishable from one another, and that’s because the linework is about as muddy as the color palette — It kinda seems like he’s working with models and photo reference but also doesn’t have that many models to work with so he’s having them play multiple roles, but also his work basically seems more like photoshop filters than actual drawing? There’s a bunch of stuff that I think sucks, basically. But you can also draw a direct line from what Van Fleet is doing in Typhoid to what Aja does in The Seeds. All these choices that are meant to be classy and dignifed, a move away from the excess of superhero comics. The covers of Typhoid are just portraits of the main character, interchangeable from one issue to the next, which was a move that again, was ahead of its time: This is what so many Marvel covers in the 2000s looked like, the Tim Bradstreet Punisher covers probably being the go-to example. It’s pretty dull but it’s nice they’re not super-sexualized.
While the choices arguably suit the subject matter in Typhoid, which is at least partly about movies, in The Seeds, the story doesn’t really make any sense because the visuals seem so steeped in unreality. The premise is that a tabloid has photographed an alien, proving aliens are real. There is really nothing within the context of the story that explains why the news outlet would have enough gravitas to be convincing and have this be an actual news story. And the book is drawn in Photoshop, which is itself a photo-editing software, so the “reality” of the book is defined by the very medium that people recognize as why images can’t be trusted. This contributes a level of irony that could maybe be worked with if the book itself wasn’t so ugly and dull. The whole thing looks like some Banksy bullshit. Outside of word balloons, text appears in the large all-caps typeface of image macros. I don’t have scans of The Seeds because I gave my copy away on account of there not being any reason to keep it around.
The book is beyond dated at the time of its release. Partly this is due to the speed the cultural conversation has been moving for the past five years. It’s been a difficult time period to work on a work of fiction about the news, certainly, and not only has the comic been a long time in the making, the writer has also been away from making comics for decades now. If the authors had been able to make this as a serialized monthly comic, it might’ve stumbled into timeliness, or the predictive, but as it is, the reading experience feels like a bunch of different, disparate ideas that do not really cohere into a narrative. Leaving aside how the book seems to emerge from a general cultural gestalt of the the 1990s, when The X-Files and Weekly World News were objects of discussion, every major plot point or news story chosen for thematic resonance is approximately fifteen years old. I believe 2005 was when I started to hear about colony collapse disorder. This bee metaphor has been lapped by a Honey Nut Cheerios campaign at this point. (A few years back, boxes of cereal came with seeds of wildflowers you/children could plant.)
Darin Morgan’s episode of The X-Files revival “The Mengele Effect” ably addresses all the issues with how cynicism and conspiracy theories feel different now, all the issues that Nocenti seems terrified of and hopes the audience doesn’t think of when reading her humorless X-Files throwback comic. That episode’s great. Much of The Seeds seems like it was better done in the decidedly not-great Transmetropolitian. There’s something so dated and sad about this comic’s idea of a cool journalist protagonist: People barely smoke cigarettes anymore! I know no one wants to draw people vaping, but the imagery this book wishes meant “cool, urban, woman” reads as nostalgic affectation in 2021. That so much of the commercial landscapes of our cities has been replaced by vape shops was one of the biggest clues we were already living in a dystopia three years ago.
Nocenti, when she was working regularly, got to be a pretty effective writer for having a monthly deadline wherein she could speak on the issues of the day as they were happening. In the absence of a regular gig, this rare chance to speak her mind gets hampered by how much there is to talk about, and how complicated it all is. If it’s too complicated to address in an ongoing superhero comic, a one-off graphic novel with vaguely commercial ambitions turns out to be a worse space for it. It’s so much sadder than anything in this dream-of-the-nineties comic that the authors were given the grace to make something only under the conditions that doom it to failure. Real people made this work of fiction, and I don’t know what the fuck they’re even talking about, and that’s a more complicated narrative than the journalists in this comic who… stumble upon a story and then need to take to back because it’s too important or something? I don’t understand what this comic is about. It’s clearly gesturing at being about a bunch of different things, but what they get from being in juxtaposition with one another, I don’t know.
In interviews in advance of the release of The Seeds, Nocenti talked about how this was the first time she got to make a comic that didn’t have to have fight scenes or conflict in it. But reading Typhoid it’s clear how conflict ties the story’s disparate threads together. But also while reading Typhoid I kept on thinking about how visually, the Steve Lightle shit that preceded it is so much cooler! Here he is, bifurcating a page so two narrative threads can be told with different approaches to stoytelling:
People sometimes talk about how crazy it is that Nocenti started her Daredevil run immediately following up the Miller/Mazzucchelli Born Again run with a fill-in drawn by Barry Windsor-Smith. But I don’t think anyone has pointed out that, since these Typhoid Mary team-up comics appeared in Marvel Comics Presents, she’s basically following up Barry Windsor-Smith’s Weapon X, and Steve Lightle is totally capable of doing that! Even if these comics are kinda whatever narratively, Nocenti comes up with dense enough narratives to give him shit to do. She’s a good writer within the context of the harsh strictures of early nineties mainstream comics. Which I know seems like a harsh diss! But being a writer that makes work that consistently gives a comics artist something interesting to do is a difficult job that many people are just not interested in doing for various reasons, so it should be recognized when it’s attempted and accomplished.
It’s also interesting that the whole visual approach where both Steve Lightle and Barry Windsor-Smith shine is dependent on flat color. The changes in storytelling made to accommodate the shifts in visual language in full-color mainstream comics didn’t really benefit anyone, and now needs to be outsmarted. In The Seeds, we’ve got this pretty dull reading experience that superficially in its two-color print job and nine-panel grid, looks like it might be influenced by Mazzucchelli’s work in Rubber Blanket and City Of Glass. And we’ve got a black and white Barry Windsor-Smith comic coming out from Fantagraphics in a few weeks that I really hope blows it out of the water.
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“The Other Guys” wants cops to go after the real criminals
Before director/writer Adam McKay pivoted into populist screed’s against capitalism and political corruption in films like “Vice” and “The Big Short” he was largely known as one of the many “dumb comedy” directors working in Hollywood.
In fact, with major productions such as “Anchorman,” “Talladega Nights,” and “Step Brothers” he could almost be billed as THE dumb comedy director or certainly THE Will Ferrell director at least.
(To a certain extent, THE John C. Reilly director too.)
Those movies are certainly divisive amongst some filmgoers, as you either fall into the “turn your brain off and laugh” category or the “this is pure nonsense” crowd. I’m somewhat in the middle on all of it but one McKay/Ferrell vehicle provided a bridge between the “dumb comedy” years and his more serious satires of American politics and that movie was 2010’s “The Other Guys.”
Billed as just another parody of buddy cop flicks, “The Other Guys” is a comedy that still holds up pretty well by today’s standards. Mark Wahlberg in many ways plays an unhinged caricature of every tough guy persona he has ever played in detective Hoitz and perhaps more brilliantly Ferrell, as detective Gamble, is allowed to be the straight man of the duo for change, finding humor in a more subdued performance. Together they form a kinetic duo that play hilariously well off each other in a film that is rarely dull from start to finish.
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(Flawless logic here in the famous Tuna vs Lion debate)
“The Other Guys” takes some decent shots at the violent nature of cop culture from excessive police overreach in the film’s hilarious opening scene to cops’ shoot first ask questions later approach with detective Hoitz backstory involving shooting Dereck Jeter during game 7 of the World Series. In between more typical Ferrell comedy flare involving hot wives and ex-wives, hobo sexy orgies, and TLC references there’s a lot of pointed, tongue-in-cheek humor at the police that one can find great humor in.
It’s a descent satire of the cop movie and the culture around law enforcement on this alone but McKay’s real target isn’t the police so much as it is who the police aren’t going after.
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(For the record, peacocks and cops, for that matter, don’t fly.)
2008 probably feels like eons ago to many of you at this point but it was the year I personally came of age. I had graduated high school, The Lakers were good again, “The Dark Knight” and “Iron Man” had just come out, I had hopes and dreams as I entered college at San Jose State and oh…the Great Recession had just started!
I’m not going to go into extreme detail here but our economy had it’s worse collapse since the Great Depression caused by the subprime mortgage crisis due to vast widespread failures in financial regulation, breakdowns in corporate governance, vast trading and over borrowing, housing bubbles bursting, and heads of businesses just vastly ill-equipped to handle their hubris in that moment.
Major businesses and banks were on the verge of collapsing and then at the last minute the US government passed a $700 billion, with a capital B, bailout to put them all back in the green.
Corporations like Bank of America, Citi Group, Morgan Stanley etc received between $10-$25 billion each for their struggles and were able to stay alive in the country’s ever worsening state. This was great, except 2.6 million average working-class people lost their jobs during this period, including my father.
By the way, a guy like Joseph Casano, an executive at AIG, got a $34 million bonus for helping lead companies such as his into the recession.
This is McKay’s real target in “The Other Guys.” The satirical cop humor is largely window dressing to draw audiences in to the theaters so that he can show all of them who the real criminals of this country are.
As the plot of the story starts to kick into full gear the more obvious culprits of a typical Hollywood cop movie are dismissed. Though Hoitz is convinced it’s more the usual cop movie style villains of “sex and drug traffickers” at first, Gamble slowly pieces together a plot of dastardly insider trading. What it ends up being is that the bad guy is really just a doofus hedge fund manager named David Ershon played comically by Steve Coogan who made one too many bad investments to bad people.
Ershon has put his people and the people he owes money to deeper into the red, not at all unlike the wealthy CEOs and bankers who messed up the country during the 2008 recession, and it has led him to take desperate action to get everyone’s money back. Ershon, of course, tries to get Hoitz and Gamble off his tale by bribing them in a variety of hilarious ways (one of the funnier sequences of the film) but eventually gets caught up with the SEC and those who prosecute white collar crime (who are unsurprisingly also in bed with the people he owes money to).
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(Somehow, I don’t think this is far off from reality...)
Hoitz and Gamble continue on the case but find that taking on white collar crime is…complicated to say the least but most importantly ineffectual as detailed in this scene.
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(Again, probably not far off from reality...)
The 2008 recession, wiped out millions of jobs, with rural parts of the country getting hit the hardest and in many ways still feeling the effects today. If you were a POC you were even more unlikely to not recover from the crash. Property values plummeted, student high education success rates dropped, opiod overdoses from “unemployment deaths” and many more awful things happened during this period of great economic distress.
And what happened to the folks largely responsible for causing this mess? They got a fat fucking payday and a dismissive finger wag largely by our own government.
“The Other Guys,” more or less, ends the same way. Despite putting away Ershon, the company he was swindling, who gambled their people’s money, was still bailed out by the US government. A real “happy ending” that is played as a dark, matter of fact, joke before the credits roll.
(Again, we laugh but how far off from reality is this really?...)
I graduated from college in 2013, tens of thousands in debt from student loans and trying to navigate a largely bereft job market where wages had largely not changed in as many years. In 2008 average rent cost about $850 a month, by 2013 it was $953, today in 2020 it’s $1,097. The average entry level salary (for a clerical/ office professional) between 2008 and 2018 went from $46,886 to $45,882 showing a decrease in value.
In 2008 the richest man in the world, Warren Buffet, was worth $64 billion. The richest man in 2020, Jeff Bezos, is worth $200 billion.
If the fact that Jeff Bezos is worth more than some countries on this planet doesn’t make you infuriated alone I don’t know what will.
Btw Buffet’s net worth increased as well to $79 billion himself, in case you think it’s “unfair” to compare him to Bezos.
Sometimes I think the reason people aren’t angrier about this worldwide is 1) a bunch of us think we are all one hard working day away from being filthy fucking rich ourselves, one of the many great lies of capitalism and 2) many of us don’t actually know just how big a BILLION dollars is, so here let me help you all out:
With COVID in 2020 we’re seeing it all happen again, just as it did in 2008. Record unemployment rates, small businesses closing, evictions skyrocketing because no one can pay rent and all we got for it was a $1,200 band-aid (assuming you did get yours). Meanwhile billionaire slugs like Bezos and Elon Musk saw their net worth rise sharply during this period, hell even the fucking Lakers got a $4.6 million dollar “small business” loan (though they did return it…only after getting caught…).
The highest sum of cash ever stolen from a bank was $18.1 million (equivalent to roughly $30.1 million now) in 1997. These are the people cops and other “loose cannons” in popular actions movies are usually running up against. If you think stealing $30.1 million is a lot of money worth sending the cops over then $700 billion of our own tax dollars given to people who ruined the lives of millions of Americans should make you fucking furious. The only real difference here is one was made legal by our own elected government.
Adam McKay’s “The Other Guys” may be on its surface just another “dumb comedy” that mostly satirizes cops, but its villains are very real and unfortunately as American as apple pie. Under capitalism our labor only continues to get devalued every year (even the skilled positions), while the richest 1% of the human race only get fatter with their wealth. Things are only getting more expensive and the working man is getting priced out of more and more daily luxuries and even essentials. This way of life is not sustainable, especially for our environment which these dragons continue to plunder, and eventually we will need to actually hold our overlords accountable for letting it get this far.
If we don’t, they will continue to steal every penny in our pocket and bleed us dry until the next disposable drone can fill our place. If law enforcement won’t take this on, sooner or later we might have to…
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Remember, pimps don’t cry...
#The Other guys#will ferrell#mark wahlberg#adam mckay#comedy#satire#cops#police#blm#black lives matter#rage against the machine#punk rock#movie#film#2008 recession#covid#income inequality#bailout#eat the rich#populism#social justice#socialism#Steve coogan#Jeff Bezos#warren buffett#billions#the rich#the poor#wealth inequality#The rock
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TVD 9x15 - Dream a little dream... (Part 1) Enjoy! =)
Cut to – the secret facility, around 3am. All the guests from the Thanksgiving dinner party have left. Augustus and Darius are having a little one on one before heading to bed.
AUGUSTUS: So, how does it feel to be back from La-la land? You really had us worried for a while. Thought you were a goner.
DARIUS: How long was I out for?
AUGUSTUS: Almost a month… You’re lucky Veritas was able to use his psychic juju to break the illusion. I was about to give up.
DARIUS: Given our history, I’m surprised you even tried.
AUGUSTUS: Well, bygones. And, Pietro can be very persuasive, he insisted we get you back.
DARIUS: I’ll have to thank him for that. Listen, I know we don’t always see eye to eye, and I know I made some mistakes, but we need to find a way to get over our differences, and see this through to the end.
AUGUSTUS: I agree. That’s the only reason I accepted to do this. Also, I have to admit, you do have some irreplaceable talents.
DARIUS: As do you, from what I’ve been seeing… I could have sworn I saw Tamara at the dinner party. What are you, making clones now?
AUGUSTUS: (Smirks) Oh no, clones are of no real use. And, unlike you, I don’t like to tamper with nature. What you saw was technology at its best.
DARIUS: So, like robots, basically?
AUGUSTUS: Not exactly; more like artificial intelligence. Specifically, it’s called ASI, an artificial intelligence superior to human intelligence or ability. The superhuman, as we like to call it in the geek community.
DARIUS: And they call me the crazy one.
AUGUSTUS: Don’t confuse using technology in our advantage with a god complex, and a bad case of fatal attraction. You really lost it, Darius; almost sabotaged the order’s plan to cater to your fantasies. We can’t have that happen again, so, I hope you understand, some adjustments had to be made.
DARIUS: What are you talking about?
AUGUSTUS: Let’s just say, you didn’t get that scar on your head by accident…
DARIUS: What did you do to me?
AUGUSTUS: Don’t worry, nothing drastic. All I did was install a type of control button, to put it in a way. Just to make sure you don’t go rogue on us again. Can’t blame us for including an insurance policy after the mess you made. (Yawns) Well, I think it’s time I call it a night.
DARIUS: Question, did that “tweak” of yours involve some sort of weird programming with the movie Sunset Boulevard?
AUGUSTUS: The fifties noir film?
DARIUS: Yes.
AUGUSTUS: Well, I am a big fan, but no; that’s all you, pal. Anyway, I need my rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.
DARIUS: Sweet dreams…
AUGUSTUS: (Somewhat confused) Uhm… okay. Make sure you get some sleep (he leaves).
DARIUS: I will, eventually… (Darius dozes off in a daydream sort of state; the song Wicked Game by Hula-Hifi, lingering in his mind).
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Cut to – The Salvatore mansion. Damon and Bonnie’s room, around 3 am. Damon wakes up suddenly, sweating and breathing heavily. He turns to Bonnie, she’s not in the bed. He gets up, knocks on the bathroom door, no answer. He opens the door, she’s not inside. Vamps downstairs, finds her watching T.V in the family room.
DAMON: Hey, Bon-Bon; what are you doing?
BONNIE: Couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake you, so…
DAMON: (Peeks to see what she is watching) Sunset Boulevard, love this movie.
BONNIE: Come, join me.
DAMON: (Vamps speeds to cuddle with her) You okay?
BONNIE: Fine, just a bad case of insomnia.
DAMON: Want some popcorn?
BONNIE: Is the answer ever no when it comes to that question?
DAMON: (Smirks, gets up) One order of large popcorn coming right up (gives her a peck on the lips, and vamps to the kitchen. Bonnie continues to watch the movie; at some point she begins to feel sleepy and dazed, almost immediately, she falls into a deep sleep).
Cut to – 1950, Hollywood, California. The cast and crew, of what promises to be the next Oscar winning film, are getting ready for another day of shooting on set. The lead actress, a true Hollywood diva, is in her dressing room rehearsing some lines. The lead actor walks in the room, hands her a cup of coffee.
KAT: Every day I tell you I hate that…
IAN: And every day I do it anyway.
KAT: Can you just get out, before I have security take you out.
IAN: Is that any way to treat your co-star?
KAT: The only reason you got this job is because your daddy is the head of the studio, you are a horrible actor.
IAN: Kitty Kat, that hurts my feelings. Not everyone can sleep their way to the top, if you know what I mean… Shall we do the count? Joseph, Chris, Michael… Oh, and let’s not forget your recent one, my lovely brother, Paul… I told you, everyone knows about you two, or almost everyone… Aw, poor Candice! Anyway, you can drop the act now.
KAT: And, I told you, who I choose or don’t choose to sleep with, is none of your business, or hers. So, butt out.
IAN: You know, you are quite cute when you get mad (smirks).
KAT: I actually look cuter when I’m kicking someone’s ass; want to see?
IAN: (Wiggles is eyebrows) Ooh, you are on fire today!
Keep it up, maybe you will finally nail at least one scene. (The film director walks in).
MATT: You two are up. And please, stop with the bickering, it’s getting very annoying. Be professional for Christ’s sake! Come on, chop, chop! You are on in five (leaves).
KAT: How dare he speak to me that way! Does he know who I am?!
IAN: Apparently, he doesn’t care; ouch! (Hands her the coffee cup) Here, have some, looks like you are going to need it.
KAT: Shut up… (grabs the cup reluctantly, and takes a sip. Another actress comes barging in, venting).
CANDICE: I swear if I have to do another scene with that incompetent fool, I’m quitting!
KAT: What did Chris do this time?
CANDICE: He can’t tell his left foot from his right one. How on earth did he get the part!
IAN: (Looking at Kat, teasing) Gees, I wonder how…
KAT: (Rolls her eyes, turns to Candice) Come on, he’s not that bad.
CANDICE: Please, you only say that because you slept with him. Not that I’m judging, he’s very hot, but he definitely can’t dance!
KAT: Well, he makes up for it in other areas (smirks)…
CANDICE: (Grins) Naughty, naughty… Anyway, where is Paul?!
IAN: Missing someone? Don’t worry, Blondie, he should be here soon, he’s just running late. Think you can handle a few minutes without him?
CANDICE: God, I hate you…
KAT: That makes two of us.
IAN: (Looking at Kat) You know there’s a fine line between love and hate (smirks).
KAT: In your dreams.
IAN: Every night, at least twice.
KAT: You are disgusting.
IAN: I know (winks. The Assistant Director walks in).
STEVEN: Miss. Graham, Mr. Somerhalder, we are ready for you.
KAT: Let’s go.
Cut to – LAPD Headquarters. The Chief of Police is in his office, smoking a cigarette, looking at a photo of a victim who was found brutally murdered the night before. The victim, an aspiring actress who had just landed her first role, a minor part in a high-profile production.
This town… A concrete monument of decay. From the outside it might seem glamourous, with its movie stars and divas, but it’s nothing more than a sewer filled with rats. Nights reek of booze, gun powder, and flesh blood, masked with a cheap imitation of expensive perfume.
Days are no better. The only difference between the two is that during the day, it’s harder for the predators to hide, or so they think. In reality, the true gangsters hide at plain sight. They mock us, thinking they are always one step ahead, always above the law.
But not this time… not this time… (Caresses the victim’s photo, a tear scrolling down his cheek) My sweet Nina… who could have possibly done this to you? And why?
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(The song “The Two Of Us” by Mark Isham, plays in the background, as the Detective has flashbacks of the woman and the horrendous murder scene; tears keep rolling down his cheeks).
Cut to – the film set. Kat and Ian are shooting one of their scenes.
IAN: Don’t go with him… you belong here, with me.
KAT: Please, don’t say those words. You know I want nothing more, but I can’t stay… He is my husband.
IAN: And I am the man you love.
KAT: Always and forever; no matter how far.
IAN: (Kisses her passionately. As she begins to walk away and the rain begins to pour, he runs after her, turns her around) I’m sorry, but I won’t let you go (kisses her again, the song Godot - The Fragrance of Dark Coffee + Rainymood, starts to play.
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The raindrops continue to fall as they hold each other, probably for the last time…)
MATT: And, cut! Beautiful! Now that’s what I call cinema! We are making history people!
KAT: (Ian is still holding on to her). Didn’t you hear cut?!
IAN: No, must have bad hearing… (he smiles; she tries to resist, yet can’t help but smile herself).
MATT: Okay, everyone, let’s take 30 while we prep for the next scene.
KAT: (To Ian) Did you hear that? (Pushes him away) Now, shoo, skedaddle! (She walks away, he follows behind, teasing her).
STEVEN: Mr. Davis, there is a Detective here to see you.
MATT: What? Why?
STEVEN: I think it has something to do with that actress that didn’t show up on set today.
MATT: Which actress, Steven, there are plenty of them around here.
STEVEN: Nina.
MEET: Nina, who? Doesn’t ring a bell.
STEVE: She’s the actress that is playing Miss. Graham’s handmaiden.
MATT: Oh, yes, I think I remember. What about her?
STEVEN: I don’t know. Why don’t you talk to the Detective.
MATT: Fine. Send him my way.
ZACH: (Shows him his badge) Detective Zach Roerig, LAPD, can I ask you some questions?
MATT: Sure, just don’t take too long, we need to keep shooting while we still have the proper lighting.
ZACH: (Takes a picture of Nina out of his pocket and shows it to him) Do you know this woman?
MATT: Barely, she is just an extra with a very small part, we don’t interact. I only work with the stars, so my assistant might be able to give you more insight on her.
ZACH: I’ll talk to him, that’s for sure. But you are the one in charge of this production, correct?
MATT: I am the Director, so yes.
ZACH: Maybe you should pay more attention to your “not so important” cast members as well. Miss. Dobrev was found brutally murdered last night; just one block from here.
MATT: Oh, lord, that is terrible. What happened?
ZACH: Was I not clear? She was murdered, decapitated to be exact. And, we suspect the one responsible for this heinous crime, is part of this little film of yours.
MATT: That’s absurd! No one here would ever do such a thing!
ZACH: You’d be surprised what people are capable of, especially in a town like this. It ain’t all lights and glamour. This is an official investigation, so we are shutting this production down until we get some answers.
MATT: You can’t do that! We are on a schedule.
ZACH: Well, it looks like you’re going to have to make some changes. I need you to call in everyone in the cast and crew, and I mean everyone. No one leaves, until we clear them.
MATT: Do you have any idea who you’re talking to? I don’t take orders from anyone.
ZACH: You Hollywood types and your sense of entitlement. You are in for a reality check, no one is above the law. Here is a warrant to search the premises and question every single one of you. So, make yourself comfortable, we might be here for a while. I’ll need your office for questioning, while my squad processes the area. I take it you don’t mind. And, to prove I’m not all that bad, I’ll start with you. Lead the way.
Cut to – the Director’s office.
SUSPECT # 1 – THE DIRECTOR
ZACH: For the record, state your full name.
MATT: Matthew W. Davis.
ZACH: How did you know the victim?
MATT: I told you, I didn’t. Apart from directing the few scenes she has been in, I have never talked to or interacted with her at all.
ZACH: What were your whereabouts last night, from 11pm to 2am?
MATT: I was here, filming. Went home around 3am.
ZACH: (Shows him a note that reads: You were great last night. Keep it up, and you might become a real movie star someday…). Do you know what this is?
MATT: (Looking nervous) Where did you find that?
ZACH: I’m the one that will be asking the questions. Is this your handwriting?
MATT: It is.
ZACH: Can you explain how, and why, this was found in the victim’s purse the night she was murdered?
MATT: I have no idea. That note wasn’t for her.
ZACH: Oh, really? Who was it for, then? And why do you reckon Miss. Dobrev had it with her?
MATT: I can’t tell you who it was for. And, I have absolutely no idea why that woman would have that note.
ZACH: Oh, come on, try harder.
MATT: This is ridiculous, I want my lawyer.
ZACH: You are in your right to request one, but that would only make you more suspicious. So, I would advise otherwise.
MATT: What do you want from me? I already told you everything I know.
ZACH: Who was the note for?
MATT: Okay, okay… it was for Candice.
ZACH: Doesn’t make much sense though, she’s already a movie star…
MATT: She is, but not a diva, like Miss. Graham. That’s what every woman in Hollywood wants. And I am the only one that can give that to them.
ZACH: That’s a lot of power to be in one man’s hands.
MATT: I worked hard for it, trust me.
ZACH: Sure you did… Okay, I’m gonna let you go for now, while we verify your alibi; but trust me, we will talk again.
MATT: Whatever. Can I leave?
ZACH: Yes, and send your assistant in.
SUSPECT # 2 – THE ASSISTANT DIRECTOR
ZACH: For the record, state your full name.
STEVEN: Steven R. McQueen.
ZACH: How do you know Miss. Dobrev?
STEVEN: She is one of the actresses in the film.
ZACH: More like, was…
STEVEN: What?
ZACH: She was murdered last night, about a block from here. Know anything about that?
STEVEN: No, no, of course not. Oh, god, she’s dead?! This can’t be true… How, why?
ZACH: Well, that’s what I want to find out, pal. Think you can help me figure it out?
STEVEN: Whatever I can do to help, you can count on it. Miss. Dobrev was a lovely gal.
ZACH: Were you two close?
STEVEN: Not really. I met her when we started filming. We talked from time to time, but that was about it.
ZACH: Just talk, ha?
STEVEN: Yes, Detective, I swear.
ZACH: I believe you. Look, you seem like a decent guy. I’m sure, if anyone, you are the one that knows what really happens around this set. Help me out? Miss. Dobrev deserves some justice, don’t you think?
STEVEN: Of course. I will tell you everything I know.
ZACH: Good. Why don’t we start with Mr. Davis’s real relationship with the victim…
Cut to – Kat’s dressing room. Kat, Ian, Candice, Paul, and Chris are talking about the situation.
CANDICE: With all due respect, but who is this Nina person?
KAT: She’s the actress playing my handmaiden.
CANDICE: Oh, her? Well, you can’t really refer to her as an actress, I mean...
CHRIS: She’s a nobody, so who cares.
PAUL: Judging from the Police take-over, something big is going on.
CANDICE: Why do you care?
PAUL: I’m just saying, it doesn’t look good.
IAN: Well, I agree with Mr. slippery shoes and Cinderella, who cares! We should be shooting, don’t want to lose the good lighting.
KAT: Of course you wouldn’t dare to care about anyone but yourself….
IAN: Really, Kitty Kat? This coming from little Miss me, myself, and I. We all know who you are.
KAT: No you don’t, so stop pretending you do.
PAUL: (Sarcastically) Ouch, bro.
CHRIS: (To Kat and Ian, sounding quite bitter) Can you two stop bickering, for like a second! Gees, just get married already! So freaking obvious…
KAT: Please, he wishes!
IAN: I might like a little pain here and there, but I’m no masochist… unless you ask nicely, of course (winks; the Director walks in). Matt, can you please tell us what the hell is going on!
MATT: We’ve been shut down, until further notice. Oh, and no one can leave either, so make yourselves comfortable.
IAN: What! Why?!
MATT: Well, that wannabe actress playing Kat’s handmaiden was murdered last night. Ruined our entire schedule! The Police think one of us did it… ridiculous!
KAT: Wait, what!? She was murdered? No, no… that can’t be… Oh my god!
CHRIS: And I’ll say it again, why do we care? She is a nobody! Or was, whatever!
KAT: Don’t say that! You have no idea who she was…
CHRIS: Neither do you, Kitty Kat.
IAN: (Pushes Chris away from her) First, no one calls her that, but me. Second, back off…
CHRIS: (Sarcastic smirk) Oh, please. Don’t you get it? She will never love you. Once she gets what she wants from you, she’ll throw you out like a piece of trash. So stop trying so hard.
IAN: (Grabs him by the neck) Listen, psycho boy…
PAUL: Stop, both of you. Is it too much to ask for you to act like adults, for once? We really don’t need your little pissing contest drama right now.
KAT: Nor any of this… Everyone get out, I need some space.
IAN: (Looking concerned) Kat...
KAT: I said, get out! All of you! (They leave).
Cut to – the Director’s office.
ZACH: Thank you for your cooperation, this information is critical to our investigation.
STEVEN: (Looking scared) Please, Detective, promise me you won’t tell them you heard those things from me, I would be completely ruined.
ZACH: Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me, trust me. Now, be a sport and send Miss. Accola my way, will you?
STEVEN: Will do, Detective.
ZACH: Thank you, we will talk again soon.
SUSPECT # 3 – THE ACTRESS
ZACH: For the record, state your full name.
CANDICE: (Flirtatious) Detective, you don’t believe I had anything to do with this, do you? I mean, look at me… do you really think I would be capable of such a thing?
ZACH: Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I said, state your full name.
CANDICE: Fine… Candice Rene Accola. But I swear, Detective, I never even crossed a word with that woman.
ZACH: Funny, that’s not what I’ve heard…
CANDICE: From who? Whoever said that is obviously lying! I have a reputation to protect, I don’t mingle with the extras.
ZACH: Oh, I’m sure you don’t, but I wonder if you get jealous of them?
CANDICE: (Laughs) That’s absurd! Why on earth would I be jealous of her!? She’s a nobody.
ZACH: Maybe she had something you wanted…
CANDICE: What could she possibly have had that I don’t? If anything, she was the one jealous of me.
ZACH: I hear you are quite smitten with an ex of hers.
CANDICE: An ex? What are you talking about?
ZACH: Just cut the bullshit Miss. Accola. I know for a fact that Mr. Wesley and Miss. Dobrev where previously engaged, that is until you came into the picture…
CANDICE: (Nervously) Please, Detective, let me explain…
ZACH: Please, do.
CANDICE: It’s not what you think. I mean, yes, I knew they had a thing in the past, but that was a long time ago. They went to the same Highschool, in this godforsaken town in the middle of nowhere, or something along those lines. But, I swear, I never even spoke to her, nor did he, after that. No disrespect for the deceased, but she was weird, she didn’t belong in the same circle as us. There are levels, and she is, well, was, way below ours. If you are looking for a real suspect, I suggest you talk to Mr. Wood, I know there was something going on between those two.
ZACH: Really, why would you say that?
CANDICE: They are both whack jobs. They would get together after shooting; hang out at this weirdo trash bar down the block called “The Grill”, where all the other city looneys hang out. Trust me, they were into some really creepy stuff.
ZACH: What kind of creepy stuff?
CANDICE: Some obscure vampire nonsense. I’m telling you, totally cuckoo.
ZACH: Vampires?
CANDICE: Yes, I swear! If you ask me, I wouldn’t be surprised if Chris turned out to be one… I mean, if they were real, of course. Only a crazy person would believe those things.
ZACH: I agree. So, you are saying Miss. Dobrev had a dark side?
CANDICE: Oh, for sure! No one ever bought her little “Mary Sue” act.
ZACH: Well, that’s quite specific information for someone who claims not to know anything about her.
CANDICE: I’m just telling you what I’ve heard from others, specifically, from Mr. Wood.
ZACH: Okay, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt on that, for the moment. Now, (hands her the same note he handed the Director) can you explain what this is about?
CANDICE: (Looking genuinely clueless) I have never seen that before, I promise.
ZACH: Fair enough. Moving on, what where your whereabouts last night, from 11pm to 2am?
CANDICE: I was here shooting, until about 3am, I think. I went straight home after that.
ZACH: 3 am? Doesn’t seem like a safe hour for a lady to be driving home alone…
CANDICE: Oh, of course not. I had my driver take me home.
ZACH: What’s your driver’s name?
CANDICE: Mr. Trevino, you can ask him if you don’t believe me. He’s right outside my dressing room.
ZACH: No need, just yet. You are free to go, for now. Let Mr. Wood know I’m expecting him next.
CANDICE: Sure thing. (As she is walking out) Detective, one more thing… I probably shouldn’t say, since she is my best friend, but I feel obligated to mention this, it’s in my duty to do so. You should know Miss. Graham and Miss. Dobrev used to be very close friends, best friends actually. She doesn’t know I know that, but I do. In fact, Kat is the reason Nina got this job in the first place; and the reason why Nina moved from that Mystic place to LA. Just thought you should know… Hope it’s useful information (flirtatious smirk).
ZACH: (Flirting back) Very useful, Miss. Accola; thank you for sharing.
Cut to – Kat’s dressing room. She is looking at herself in the mirror; she seems somewhat sad, but a lot more worried. Ian knocks.
IAN: Kat, please, let me in… I’m sorry… (Kat opens the door, he walks inside, she looks around to make sure there is no one else there; shuts the door after him).
KAT: What do you want? I thought I made myself clear when I said I wanted to be left alone.
IAN: I needed to make sure you were okay (looks around the room) … I didn’t know you knew her outside of the film, I’m sorry if I was insensitive.
KAT: (Goes to her mini bar, serves and hands him a glass of bourbon) It’s just you and me, look for yourself. You can stop pretending now.
IAN: (Relieved) Okay, good… I don’t know how much longer I would be able to keep up with the act.
KAT: As long as it takes; we can’t risk them finding out.
IAN: I know, Kitty Kat, but I’m freaking out here! This place is infested with cops. What the hell are we going to do...?!
KAT: Calm down, we will think about that later… (kisses him passionately, and throws him on to her dressing room bed…)
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*Not my art, loads of credit to the creator, this ilustration is awsome!
TVD 9x15 (part 2) coming soon! Hope you stop by, read, and enjoy! =)
#TVD#vampire diaries#tvd fanfiction#bamon fanfic#bamon#bonnie bennett#damon salvatore#stefan salvatore#caroline forbes#belavafore#ilovefanfic86#animeeyes21#stephm1587#mademoisellevalerie85#minalblood#raejustrae#yinix1#maniq1#absentmindeddreamer#jakkoftreyde#queenmiymiydem#bamon-fanfiction#bonniebennettkingdom#kikimagic2#vonnitodd#bamon shippers club#bamonbrigade1#bamoniseternal#bamonisreal#bamonisawsome
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Esquire Singapore Dec 2019 - Joel Kinnaman Interview
OBSERVERVABLE ACTS
Editor-in-Chief: Norman Tan Photography: Michael Schwartz Stylist: Chloe Hartstein Groomer: Kristan Serafino Story: Wayne Cheong
Instead of a rooftop shoot that we had planned, we’re indoors at Dune Studios on Water Street. Outside, the weather is every writer’s dream: “It is an ash-streaked sky that portents a downpour.” “Like a warning, steel wool hangs overhead.” “A dishevelled blanket of grey that drifts languidly like detritus in a muddied pond.” A wet weather doth not a good shoot make.
When Joel Kinnaman arrives, the first thing you notice is how large he is. Bigger than life, broad-chested, he sometimes stands astride, like he’s about to break the spirit of a wild stallion. Then, there’s that presence; a sort of aura that’s quiet but still strong-arms you for your attention.
Just as the fashion shoot is about to start, Kinnaman asks if he could put on his own playlist for the shoot. He brings up his Spotify playlist, titled ‘For some of mankind’. ‘What Becomes of the Brokenhearted’ by Jimmy Ruffin plays.
“The playlists are just for fun,” Kinnaman tells me. “I’ve made a playlist for every project that I’ve been in.”
The project that this particular playlist was made for is For All Mankind, now playing on Apple TV+. It’s a show that puts forth the idea: what if America lost the space race to Russia?
Created and written by Ronald D Moore, the visionary behind the reimagined Battlestar Galactica and Outlander, For All Mankind stars Kinnaman as Edward Baldwin, a NASA astronaut who works alongside Buzz Aldrin (Chris Agos) and Neil Armstrong (Jeff Branson). Kinnaman’s character isn’t based on a particular historical figure, instead he is a composite or a representative of the ‘all-American’ astronauts of that era.
“I’m half-American and half-Swedish,” Kinnaman says. “I’ve lived in Sweden and America so, in a way, I’ve a split identity. My favourite part of the American spirit is not giving up. If they get knocked down, it is a national honour in getting back up and continuing the fight. In reality, when the US got to the moon, it concluded the space race. We didn’t get the continuation in space exploration that everyone was promised.”
Kinnaman is drawn to the science-fiction genre, fantasising of what could have been (though it can be said that the broad field of fiction can also put forward, ‘ what if’). Growing up, he watched the Star Wars movies, he loved the cyberpunk feel when he shot Altered Carbon. He is a fan of Blade Runner due to its dystopian future.
Do you think that sci-fi’s dystopian trope is becoming a reality? Kinnaman muses on that. “We’ve a president who is a national and international embarrassment. He’s immoral, a compulsive liar, a narcissist who doesn’t respect or appreciate democracy. I pray and hope that this nightmare would soon come to an end.
“But I believe we have the potential to overcome this. If we change paths and realign our focus in coming together as a human family, we can solve whatever problems that come our way together.”
This sentiment is echoed in For All Mankind, although the loss wasn’t the be-all and end-all for America. According to Moore, in losing the space race, America ends up the winner in the long run because of the continual effort into space exploration.
“Art can be a little lazy in pointing out the negatives. In many instances, the role that art and the artist play is showing us what’s wrong: that’s important but showcasing the positives is equally important. For All Mankind shows us how we should be operating if we are guided by our better angels.”
Physicist and theoretical biologist, Erwin Schrödinger, came up with a thought experiment. Imagine, if you will, a cat that’s sealed in a box. And inside that box is a device that might or might not kill the cat. Quantum theory states that quantum particles can exist in a superposition of states at the same time. Some even theorise that the quantum particles will collapse to a single state when it’s observed. When applied to Schrödinger’s cat, the feline is both dead and alive until you open the box.
Schrödinger came up with this thought experiment to explain that “misinterpreted simplification of quantum theory can lead to absurd results which don’t match real world quantum physics”. In the real world, it’s absurd that the cat is both dead and alive at the same time.
But one can also see this as an example of how the scientific theory works. Nobody really knows if a theory is right or wrong until it can be tested and proved. It’s like asking someone out on a date, you don’t know if that cute girl or guy will go out with you until you ask; the possibilities of rejection and acceptance remain in co-existence.
That is before you open the box.
Observe: Joel Kinnaman wouldn’t have existed if his father, Steve, had not defected from the US Army. An Indianapolis native, the elder Kinnaman was drafted and stationed in Bangkok, Thailand during the Vietnam War. While he was there, he started spending time with European backpackers, who have a different perspective of the war. A seed was planted. It finally blossomed when he attended a friend’s wedding in Laos. “It turned out that the woman’s family was half Laotian and half Vietnamese,” Kinnaman says. “It was an emotional moment for my dad. He asked himself if these were the people that he was going to kill.”
Still reeling from the love he had witnessed, the elder Kinnaman returned to his base. It was then that he was given the news that he was being reassigned to the battlefront in Vietnam.
In the history of war, the common punishment for desertion is death. According to the US Uniform Code of Military Justice, Article 85, it is meted out “by death of other such punishment as a court-martial may direct”. (Since the Civil War, only one American serviceman was executed for desertion: Private Eddie Slovik in 1945.)
Knowing the penalties for desertion, the elder Kinnaman made the decision that night to leave camp. He hitchhiked his way up into northern Thailand and into Laos. He burned his passport, changed his name and passed off as Canadian. For the next four years, he lived life among the Laotians doing odd jobs. Then, he found out that Sweden grants asylum to Vietnam deserters. Since moving to Sweden, President Jimmy Carter eventually issued an amnesty in 1977. The elder Kinnaman continues to reside in Sweden. After his first marriage ended, he was involved with Bitte, a therapist. This relationship yielded Joel.
“I’ve been working on the script about his life,” Kinnaman says. “The idea would be that I’d play my dad but I’m getting a little old.” It’s a story to be told, one about the dangers of blind patriotism; a tool that’s often exploited by governments. “We need to be critical individuals who should make up our own minds.”
Observe: Kinnaman had his first taste of acting when he was 10. He played Felix Lundström on Storstad, a soap opera that looks at the lives of the residents living in the fictional town of Malmtorget. Back then, Sweden had only two TV channels so even if it’s a secondary or even tertiary role on an ensemble piece, people will recognise you. “I didn’t understand it,” Kinnaman says. “There was something thrilling about being famous but there was something I didn’t like about it either.” His whole experience as a child actor was underwhelming.
In fact, taking a page from ‘history repeating itself ’, observe as Kinnaman could have been a soldier in the Swedish army.
“It was mandatory for the men to be conscripted for a year in the army and it was during my time when the rules for enlistment started to relax,” Kinnaman says. “If you didn’t want to enlist, all you have to do is purposely fail the proficiency tests.”
Alas, Kinnaman was so caught up in the competition that he aced it. His results showed potential to be a company leader. He was enlisted and assigned to an 18-month tour in the Arctic Circle but Kinnaman plum forgot about it. When he moved to Oslo, Norway, to be a bartender, he received a call from his mother, informing him that there was a government notice stating that he was supposed to enlist in three days.
He called the army to tell them that he was no longer in the country. “They said, this is a serious offence and I could get prison time for this. But if I were to write a letter to explain the situation, I could get out of this.” And then he forgot to write the letter. Kinnaman continued working odd jobs but he was always haunted by the thought that if he were ever to be arrested by the police for anything, they might discover his draft dodge from his records and he would be sent to prison.
“I ended up at this fight outside a night club and got taken in by the police.” Kinnaman says. Observe: Kinnaman could have ended up serving his sentence for draft dodging but nothing came of it.
Acting was calling out to him once more. His friend, Gustaf Skarsgård (famously known for his role as Floki in History Channel’s Vikings), was on track to becoming an actor and advised Kinnaman to apply for theatre school. After several applications, Kinnaman finally got into what he describes as “Sweden’s second-best acting school” and would go on to film two movies during his enrolment.
After graduation, he continued acting in Sweden before moving to America. He kept himself busy. He made an appearance in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo; starred as Governor Will Conway in House of Cards; made people notice with his portrayal as the homicide detective, Stephen Holder; scored the lead role in the Robocop remake; was cast as Rick Flag in Suicide Squad.
The one genre that Kinnaman can’t seem to appear in is comedy. Yes, he has a stern demeanour but the man is also funny. “Sometimes, Hollywood sees you in a certain way and it’s much easier to get cast for it. And the next is similar to that and so on. I haven’t made an effort to dissuade people’s opinion. The lighter side is probably more me.”
The closest he has gotten to doing comedy is the shooting of the Suicide Squad sequel. Helmed by James Gunn, Kinnaman said in another interview that it feels like he’s “shooting his first comedy”.
“I’ve been around tough people with issues before,” Kinnaman continues. “I’ve had some bad times so those kind of environments were natural to be in. It’s a survival mechanism too. A way for me to cope as I grew up. At the time, you’re figuring out about your identity. I felt insecure, powerless and didn’t know what to do in life.
“It was a period of my life that was pretty negative. But one of the beauties of acting is that those dark periods become a mother lode that you can mine from. Maybe I’ve drawn a little bit too much from it by playing too many tough guys.”
In May 2016, Kinnaman was one of the delegates and personalities from Denmark, Norway, Iceland, Finland and Sweden who was invited to one of President Obama’s final state dinners. Kinnaman, dressed in a sharp tuxedo, attended the dinner with his then-wife, Cleo Wattenström.
He overheard that the Obamas were fans of House of Cards and was looking forward to being introduced to them. At the reception, he and the other representatives stood in a row as President Obama made his way down the line, shaking hands and posing for a photo op. By Kinnaman’s admission, his mind wandered as he imagined what he’d say when President Obama came up to him. “Maybe I’d say, ‘Mr President’, and then he’ll say ‘Governor Conway’, and then we’ll laugh. And we’ll end it with a cool handshake.”
And all of a sudden, the president stood before him and Kinnaman muttered, “Mr President…” There was an awkward pause. Kinnaman would recount that it’s very possible that either the Obamas hadn’t watched the episode that he was in or if they did, his presence made zero impact. Before the silence could prolong, Kinnaman ended with, “thanks… for everything”. President Obama said something along the lines of, “Surely but surely, we cannot lose hope” and Kinnaman was ushered off.
He would retell this story when he introduced President Obama at Brilliant Minds, a conference of creative individuals who embody the forward-thinking spirit of Sweden, in June 2019. After the introduction, he returned backstage, where President Obama was waiting for his cue to go up. “He had this huge smile on his face and he said to me, ‘bring it in for a cool handshake.’ We hugged, we talked for about five minutes. He was super friendly. I’ll always remember that moment.”
Kinnaman isn’t shy about his politics. He voiced support for the #metoo movement; he had championed the environmental cause by one of his fellow Swedes, Greta Thunberg; he does not hide his disdain for the Trump administration.
“I think the last UN report stated that we have about eight years to turn back our carbon expenditure into the atmosphere,” Kinnaman says about where we’re heading as a species. “You don’t have to be a prophet to see that the world is heading towards the wrong direction. The oceans are heating up, the glaciers are melting. These natural disasters will be more frequent and that’s gonna lead to more tensions among countries.
“Politically, we’re moving towards a more nativist direction; people are pulling away from international cooperation. There’s the rise in disinformation campaigns, which will threaten democracy.”
But Kinnaman, ever the optimist, still believes in the human spirit, that we can innovate our way out of this quagmire.
Observe: Kinnaman, who was born with pectus excavatum, chose to correct the disorder instead of living with it.
Pectus excavatum is a chest-wall deformity that affects roughly one in 400. Instead of the breastbone being flush against the chest, it sinks in. Measured on a scale called the Haller index, anything above an index of 3.2 is considered severe. Kinnaman’s index was a seven or an eight.
“It’s something that’s survivable,” Kinnaman explains. “But it’s a condition that grows worse over time: your posture becomes worse; your stamina worsens as your heart is not given room to pump. By correcting it you can add years to your life.”
For a condition this severe, doctors had to insert two curved metal bars across his chest. Then the bars are turned to force the chest out and then the bars are wired to his ribs. The operation changed his life for the better. He doesn’t feel self-conscious whenever he removes his top. Six weeks after his surgery, he had to do reshoots for Suicide Squad. It was a fight sequence but Kinnaman sucked it up. “Would you like to feel it?” He asked.
He raised his arm like an invitation. I reached out and felt the spot, where the metal bars are, beneath the fabric and skin.
That’s an interesting party trick, I say. Kinnaman could only chuckle in response.
“It’s funny, if you ask me to say a line from a movie that I’ve been in before, I can’t. Not one line from any movie that I’ve done but I once did a monologue that was one hour and 30 minutes and I knew it by heart after 10 days.”
Kinnaman used to opine that as a Swedish American, growing up with dual cultures gives him a better perspective of the world but that also left him feeling like he doesn’t belong. He jumps from place to place, leading a nomadic existence.
“But I think,” he says as though he had stumbled upon some great truth a long time back, “I don’t wanna travel so much any more. Home. That’s where I’d like to be. I have two bases: one in Venice, LA and the other, an hour outside Stockholm.
“Growing up, my family didn’t have any money. We lived in this tiny little cottage that was in the middle of the woods. Now, I have this piece of land, where my family lives. This past midsummer was the first midsummer that we all spent together.
“That’s my new happy place.”
Joel Kinnaman looks like a man who has placed the final piece in that mystery of his life. He has stopped worrying about how he’s perceived by the public. He has exorcised people who have “struggled with jealousy, who don’t have a natural inclination towards generosity”. He has zero tolerance against bullshit. He likes how his career is shaping up—aside from Suicide Squad 2, For All Mankind is now filming a second season, and Kinnaman has three films coming out: The Informer; The Sound of Philadelphia and The Secrets We Keep; the last two, he avers, are his best work. “People who have watched me for a long time, it will remind them of my early career and for people who recently followed me, they will see a new side of me.
“I have goals that I’d like to achieve. Actor awards are such bullshit… until you get one. But yeah, that would be great. In future, I’d definitely want to be in a producing role and at some point, I’d like to also direct.
“I’ve said that I’d direct in five years time for about 10 years now.” That might change. His life is still a long and open road ahead.
Schrodinger’s cat posits two states that the creature can be in—dead or alive. But what if there’s a third option. That within the confines of the box, the cat is not there. It’s escaped. Unburdened from the stipulations of a thought experiment, free to do what it wants.
#photoshoot#magazine#joel kinnaman#esquire singapore#interview#we feed on scraps of new info#ive linked his Spotify playlist for people who missed it in march
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