#also though i think elizabeth's attention screeching to a halt because there might be an occasion for polishing her grudge /is/ funny

[anghraine]

Every time I read it, I'm amused by Elizabeth getting so distracted by Caroline Bingley's uhhh objectively enthralling attempts to flirt with Darcy that she (Elizabeth) stops reading to listen to them. And I do think it's kind of hilarious that the interaction between them absolutely confirms her opinion of not only Caroline but Darcy, even though he's not really doing anything other than getting annoyed at being continually interrupted while trying to write a letter to his sister.

[forzalando]

Always Been You | Fred Weasley

Pairing: Fred Weasley x F!Reader AU: soulmate!au Word Count: 2.2k Warning: mentions of violence, mentions of death, mentions of injuries on face and arms, mentions of blood, a curse word or two, description of an explosion (the warnings are scary but i promise this has a happy ending! it just takes place during the BoH so if anything surrounding that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read! ily💛)

A/N: the italics are a flashback and this is a soulmate!au that takes place during the Battle of Hogwarts! not feeling very confident about this one but it is complete and i promised i would post it😊i hope you guys enjoy and love you all!💛special thanks to @hufflepuffbaby9 and @fortisfiliae for their words of encouragement and edits!

Living your life in love with someone when you were unsure whether they were your soulmate was a complicated ordeal. Your friends were worried for you; they had been worried since you officially met him all those years ago, the memory fresh in your mind as it always was.

“Miss Y/L/N, might I suggest you spend less time gawking at Mr. Weasley and paying attention to my lesson?”

You swallowed dryly, feeling the familiar heat of embarrassment on your cheeks as Professor McGonagall called you out in front of everyone. You heard snickering behind you, the entire class was clearly amused at your humiliation, but you couldn’t resist sneaking one last glance over your shoulder to where he sat.

He, of course, being Fred Weasley. Fellow sixth year and the most handsome boy you had ever seen. He had let his hair grow longer over the summer and it was infinitely more interesting to pay attention to than Transfiguration.

When you looked his way, you were horrified to find that he was already looking at you. Before you could quickly turn away and start trying to forget the moment had ever happened, he smiled at you. Not a smirk or a grin, but a soft smile that you hadn’t seen from him before (you would know as you always watched him quite closely).

You smiled back and struggled to control your breathing when he did a funny sort of charade that you took to mean “talk after class?”.

“MR. WEASLEY,” McGonagall screeched, causing the two of you to jump and turn away from one another. “My classroom is not a place for flirting. This is my final warning. To the both of you.”

With a final glance at Fred, you turned back to your notes and counted down the seconds in your head until class was over. As soon as you were dismissed, you threw your school books into your bag and hurried out the massive door to the Transfiguration classroom.

As promised, Fred was standing outside with a dopey grin on his face.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever formally met, Fred Weasley, at your service.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, it’s very nice to meet you.”

“So, how long have you fancied me?”

“Who said I fancied you?”

“Your eyes,” he said matter of factly.

With a salute and a bow, Fred Weasley sauntered off, leaving you in a complete state of bewilderment.

You knew in that moment, that boy was going to be the death of you.

And, oh, how he was. Ever since that day, Fred Weasley had managed to make your life complicated and perfect in the most wondrous of ways. Even though you weren’t the closest of friends, he was always a constant in your life. Hanging around after classes that you shared to speak to you, going out of his way to hang out with you at Hogsmeade, or making sure you weren’t around when he and George pulled one of their infamous pranks.

It hurt you that you hadn’t gotten closer during your time at Hogwarts, but you were secretly glad as well because you didn’t know how you would cope if you had the opportunity to fall even more in love with him.

Not only were you unsure of who your soulmate was and secretly hoping it was Fred, but you also had no idea how you would find out. There were a million different ways to know; your mother and father couldn’t see color until they met one another, your friend Elizabeth and her soulmate had the same unique birthmark just above their left knees. During your sixth year at Hogwarts, your friend Delilah found her soulmate, a Durmstrang boy, during the Triwizard Tournament when he spoke the words to her that had been tattooed on her wrist since she was born.

You had no tattoos, no exceptional birthmarks, and you saw color spectacularly well, so each day was a constant reminder that it would be harder for you to find your soulmate than most, which bothered you more than you cared to admit.

While your soulmate, or lack thereof really, should have been the last thing on your mind as you found yourself running through the halls of Hogwarts amidst a ferocious battle, you truly couldn’t help it. You’d seen friends and family die right before your very eyes only moments ago, and all you could think about was if you would join them without knowing who was made for you and you for them.

More specifically, you were only thinking of Fred Weasley and if fate would somehow be kind to you and reveal what you’ve believed in your heart all these years.

You had yet to see him; only catching glimpses of red hair every so often, or maybe you might have imagined it, as you stumbled around the castle with Luna, incapacitating any death eaters in your path.

Before you could call out to Luna to ask if she’d seen him, you heard his unmistakable laugh from nearby. Your eyes and body were drawn to the sound, and you saw him outside where you knew the Room of Requirement to be, Percy standing next to him, having just jinxed the Minister of Magic. You started running towards them, calling out Fred’s name but he was too transfixed over the shocking behavior from his elder brother to notice your cries.

“You’re joking, Perce!” he shouted as the Death Eater he was dueling collapsed to the ground. “You actually are joking, Perce…I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were – ”

Out of nowhere, the wall behind Fred and Percy gave way due to an explosion and a scream erupted from your lips as your body halted.

Everything happened so quickly that it was impossible to know what exactly had happened; all you knew was that the stone wall collapsed and peeking out from the rubble was an unmistakable head of unruly, red hair.

You began running towards him, reaching him in a matter of seconds and prying debris off of his body; Percy was next to you doing the same, calling out his brother’s name in earnest.

Fellow former students and friends from nearby came to assist, pulling Fred from the rubble and talking frantically about how he needed to be moved, it was too dangerous out in the open.

Luna pulled you along; watching Fred’s body being rushed towards the Great Hall had you heaving and your mind foggy. Your vision was blurry and all you could think about was how you would survive in a world without the light that was Fred Weasley.

A flash of red snapped you from your haze and you fired a curse back at the Death Eater running towards you and Luna from the side; you ran as fast as you could to catch up with, who you now recognized as Oliver Wood and Dean Thomas, along with Percy, shielding them and firing at anyone who dared come within 50 feet of them.

Your only solace was that you could see the faint, yet consistent, rise and fall of Fred’s chest.

Once you reached the Great Hall, Oliver, Dean, and Percy laid Fred on a stretcher and carried him with greater ease to where his mother and father stood.

You’d thought briefly that the sound of the explosion was the worst sound you had ever heard, but it was nothing compared to Mrs. Weasley’s cries as she fell to her knees when she laid eyes upon her wounded son. She grasped his hand in her own and brought it to her cheek, fresh tears spilling over Fred’s dusty, bloodied fingertips.

Her gaze met yours and you walked towards her slowly, asking permission to approach Fred as his family members began to crowd around him. Even though she did not know you well, it was almost as if you knew she could see the love in your eyes and graciously made room for you to kneel down next to Fred.

“Hey Freddie,” you gave him a watery smile, hoping that he would open his eyes to see it. You noticed his breaths getting shallower, and his face stayed rigid, the ghost of his last laugh still lingering.

Mrs. Weasley offered you his hand, the hand she had been holding to her face while George knelt down across from you and had taken ahold of his other.

You quickly grabbed it, folding it in between both of your own and leant down towards his ear.

“I never got to tell you, Freddie,” you whispered, desperately hoping that his family couldn’t hear you. “I never got to tell you that I love you, even though I know I’m not supposed to. All those moments between us after that day in Transfiguration, I wish I could say that’s what did it, but the truth is it was way before. I sound absolutely mad, I know, but I can’t explain it. It’s just always been a feeling in my heart, and now I…I’m afraid that I – ”

“Y/N, look,” George gasped, interrupting your confession.

You raised your head and looked down at Fred to see the color returning to his face and the cuts on his cheeks closing up.

“Keep talking to him, do something, anything,” George said desperately.

You spoke louder this time, with greater confidence and squeezed Fred’s hand even tighter, though tears blurred your vision.

“Freddie, you have to come back to me. I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember and I know if you saw me right now you would laugh at how embarrassed I am, your family doesn’t even know me and I’m blubbering over their son like he’s the most important person in the world to me but, oh Fred, you are the most important person.”

The gashes on his arms were becoming faint; almost as if they never existed at all. His breaths became deeper and soon enough, his eyes fluttered open.

“I – I don’t understand,” you muttered in confusion, turning your attention to Mrs. Weasley.

“Oh, my dear, you are his soulmate, his guardian angel. I’ve only heard about this in stories but, it’s said that soulmates with the purest of loves can heal one another from even the most deadly of afflictions. Your love is so strong that it can overcome even the gravest of injuries.”

Your reply got caught in your throat and all you could do was focus your gaze back on Fred, who was groaning and attempting to sit up off the hard, stone floor, but you gently pushed him back down as you could tell he was struggling.

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled. “I feel like death.”

Everyone around you was silent, until George made a shrieking sound, which you suspected was a panicked laugh.

“Merlin, Freddie, that’s got to be a million times worse than my holey joke.”

Despite the despondent tone of the room, yourself and the Weasley family found it in yourselves to laugh along with George.

Your giggling stopped abruptly when you felt Fred squeeze your hand tightly.

“I guess I ought to thank you for saving my life and all,” he snickered, this time sitting up with ease. “I feel better than I have in years, please never let go of my hand.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you whispered, the weight of the situation fully sitting itself on your shoulders.

“I don’t know if…if you heard me um…before, but – ” you started to say.

“Don’t worry, love, I heard every word,” Fred answered with a smile.

“Well, that’s good because I’m not sure if I could say it all again. I almost wet myself and that was before I knew that you’re my soulmate. Now there’s even more pressure!”

Fred smiled at you, the same soft smile he gave you that day in Transfiguration that made you realize that you would love that boy for the rest of your life, soulmates be damned. Of course, you knew the moment wouldn’t last too long.

“Y/N, my legs are still a bit sore, d’you think the whole healing thing will work faster if you come a bit closer? Maybe a bit of true love snogging?”

You cackled and gently punched his shoulder, but leaned in nonetheless and finally kissed the boy you had been dreaming about since you were a young schoolgirl. You pulled away quickly, not missing the look of disappointment on his face that made your heart swell, but you didn’t feel it was very appropriate to kiss the hell out of him in front of his entire family.

“Say, you think when I meet my soulmate my ear will grow back?” George wondered aloud, causing his entire family to flick their gaze towards him.

“Oh my god, George, I almost died, will you shut up? For once, let the attention be on me,” Fred jokingly scolded.

“My attention was always on you,” you offered sweetly, watching the edges of Fred’s lips turn up into a smirk.

“Always? You never looked at anyone else?”

“No, Freddie, it’s always been you, and it always will be.”

taglist: @theweasleysredhair @gcdric @fortisfiliae @swellwriting @letsgotothehop @hufflepuffbaby9 @theboywhocriedlupin @wildfire-whizbangs

please let me know if you would like to be added to my permanent taglist😊i’ve had a lot of requests to be added to the bridgerton au one but didn’t want to tag any of y’all here just in case you only want to be on that one!😊

[sdottkrames]

It’s Quiet Uptown

@comfortember Prompt 4: Anxiety

Summary:  Peter goes to his first big Avenger meeting and is a bit of an anxious boi. Wanda to the rescue.

Notes: I just really want more fics with Peter and all the avengers, ya know? Like, they fill my soul with happiness. So here, have an anxious Peter (sorry, baby) and then some comfort in the form of sweet Wanda. I feel like she deserves a little love. 

Also, this is totally inspired by the fact that Elizabeth Olsen lets Chris Evans draw on her hand when he gets anxious, which is the cutest thing 💜

Read it on AO3: Here

Peter was surprised. When he’d been told the team was meeting at the compound, he hadn’t expected to be included in that. He’d barely been made an avenger before he’d crumbled to dust with half of the rest of the world, so could you blame him? But they’d requested he come and meet the whole team. He’d fought alongside most of them in the big battle but never officially met them, and, honestly, Peter was already starstruck.

“Hey, Happy,” he chirped, sliding into the back of the van, bouncing his leg excitedly.

Happy nodded in the rearview mirror, but Peter was used to the “forehead of security” and his gruff nature, so he chatted happily to fill the silence.

“So Mr. Harrington said that I did really well last year in Academic Decathlon, and he wants to talk about making me co captain with MJ this year. MJ didn’t seem opposed. Actually, I think she’s starting to like me. Like, like-like me, you know? I keep finding her looking at me. I’m not entirely sure, though. Ned says that she might just be being MJ, but I kinda get the sense that it’s more.”

Happy smirked slightly in the front seat, and Peter was grateful that the older man didn’t mind his rambling. After rehashing everything going on in his life, Peter turned on some music, and was surprised to see Happy tapping the steering wheel in time with the beat.

They made it to the compound, and Peter happily accepted Tony’s welcome hug.

“How was the drive, Spider-ling,” the older man asked, slinging a casual arm around Peter’s shoulder. Peter leaned into it as they walked down the hallway, Happy trailing behind them.

“Great! Happy actually tapped along to my music, Mr. Stark. I think he’s coming around,” Peter said, shooting the man behind him a grin. He received rolled eyes in response.

Tony chuckled. “I’m sure he is, kid. It took me literal years to get him to warm up to Back in Black.”

“Oh, I love Led Zeppelin,” Peter said, and Tony screeched to a halt.

“You did not just say that.”

Peter just grinned and started walking backwards. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. C’mon. Keep up old man. We can’t be late for my first big Avengers meeting!”

Tony looked at Happy and shook his head. “I swear he’s going to send me to an early grave.”

“Sure, boss. Out of everything that kid does, confusing AC/DC and Led Zeppelin is what will do you in.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “You know, you have a point.”

“Come on, you slow pokes,” Peter called, halfway down the hall. 

He had no trouble finding the room. It’s large, opaque glass doors are embossed with the Avengers logo, making it obvious. As he stared at those heavy glass doors, the enormity of what was happening hit him, and his excitement slowly faded. He was going to meet Natasha Romanoff. Bucky Barnes. Stever Rogers. Bruce Banner. Thor! Everyone.

His fears pinned him to the spot, and he was unable to move to open the door.

“Kid, you okay?” Tony asked, coming up behind him.

Peter swallowed. “Uh...yeah. Yeah.” In slow motion, as if from outside himself, he watched his hand reach to take the handles and open the door. His mouth felt like sandpaper, and his mind was a jumbled mess.

Would they call on him to say something?  Was he supposed to contribute ideas? Oh, gosh, what if he said something stupid? 

The strange, out-of-body experience continued as Peter walked to a seat with his name in front of it on a neat white card. It was all the way at the end of the table with some newer Avengers, and his heart started to race even more as he realized Tony would be clear at the opposite end of the table.

Peter looked down as he sat and closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control. He could do this. No need to freak out. He was sitting next to Falcon. Falcon was nice. And the girl on the other side- Wanda, he remembered- was nice. It’s fine. He’s fine.

He looked up, but the sight of Bruce Banner talking to Steve Rogers made it clear very quickly he was very much not fine, and he looked back down so fast his neck cracked.

“Hey,” an accented voice called. He looked over to meet Wanda’s eyes. “First meeting?” she asked. Peter nodded, not trusting his voice. “You’re going to be just fine. I was terrified the first time I met them all, too. Well, met them for real.” 

Peter remembered hearing about her powers. She must have had a lot of reason to be scared to meet them all after manipulating their brains. Some of the tightness in his chest loosened at her words and he smiled at her gratefully. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Peter, right?” 

“Yeah. Wanda?”

She smiled. “Yes.” She thought for a moment before reaching into a purse at her feet to pull out a blue, ballpoint pen and offering it to Peter. “Here. I promise I’m not using my powers, but I can tell without them when a brain is being too loud. If it gets too much, go ahead and doodle on my hand. It helps. Steve let me do it my first few meetings, and I still bring the pen just in case.”

Their conversation ended abruptly as Nick Fury stood up, but Peter took the pen and smiled gratefully again. He would have made it through the meeting just fine, feeling much better after his small conversation with Wanda. But then he was asked to introduce himself.

He stood up, hugging his arms to himself, a nervous habit he’s had since childhood. “Hi, I’m Peter. Uh, Spiderman, but nobody else knows that besides you guys and my Aunt. I’m 17, I live in Queens.” He hesitated, before deciding that was probably all they needed to hear. “It’s nice to meet you all,” he said, and awkwardly gave a small wave before sitting down.

He was breathing fast again, overthinking every word that he said, his brain getting “too loud,” as Wanda put it. He jumped slightly as her hand slid into his and she nodded to the pen.

Grateful for the distraction, he uncapped the pen and started drawing. He was no artist, but he could draw basic geometric shapes and soon he was so engrossed in the motion of the pen and ink swishing across her skin that his brain is quiet enough for him to actually pay attention to the rest of the meeting. The hour passed quickly as he drew circles and squares and infinity signs (which he saw somewhere was good for anxiety). He didn’t take his eyes off the smooth motion of the pen until he heard chairs squeak as everybody stood up.

“Thank you,” he murmured to Wanda, putting as much gratitude as he could into his voice as he handed her the pen.

She smiled at him. “Any time. It wasn’t a bother at all. If you ever need it again, I’ll be right here.”

He nodded and started to turn around, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at her again. “Welcome to the team,” she said, and Peter couldn’t help but smile at her.

As everyone gathered around to greet him, he forgot what he was so nervous about in the first place. Stars in his eyes replaced the butterflies in his stomach as he shook hands with his childhood heroes. 

“Peter, Stark has told me much about you!” Thor boomed, and easily scooped the young boy up in a bear hug which nearly gave Peter a heart attack because Thor (Thor!) is hugging him.

“Okay, Let the kid breathe,” Steve said, shaking Peter’s hand and dispelling any lingering doubts about hard feelings due to Germany.

“N-nice to meet you both, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Thor, sirs,” Peter stammered out. 

“Alright, Underoos,” Tony cut in, saving Peter from embarrassing himself. “Have you met everyone? You ready to head to the lab for a couple hours before we get you home?”

Peter nodded and bid goodbye to everyone (Thor promising to come spend more time with him at some point) before he and Tony walked together down the hall to the elevator.

“Everyone was really nice. Thanks for inviting me.”

“You're welcome. I was worried you were gonna bolt at first,” Tony teased.

“I was really nervous,” Peter admitted, looking down. “But Wanda helped.”

“Yeah, she’s a good kid. Like you. I knew you two would get along!”

Peter blushed, pleased at the praise. The elevator opened, and as they headed down to the labs, a thought occurred to him.

“Did you put me and Wanda together on purpose?”

Tony shrugged. “Like I said, I thought she might help you be less nervous around all those stuffy superheroes. I’m glad it worked.”

And Peter’s heart filled with gratitude. His brain is blissfully quiet, he made a new friend, met his childhood heroes, and got to spend time with his Mentor.

Maybe being an Avenger really wouldn’t be that bad!

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Episode 9 Review: Nine of Swords

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 | 3 }

{ Synopses: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

{ Screencaps }

Another day, my darling Erica, another day without you. The storm we’ve been sitting through has subsided and I’m going over to the main island to commission the young man your sister recommended to do an oil of you. Until the day your loveliness returns from the beyond to reality, your portrait and I will share the hours.

My darling Erica, I have to go. Quito is waiting. Sleep, my love. I love you and I need you.

Don’t you want to give Jean Paul a hug? No? I do.

After an argument scene between Reverend Matt Dawson and Elizabeth Marshall that consists entirely of recap, we see Jean Paul and Quito in the Great Hall talking about how they need to find Raxl before they leave to watch the cryonics capsule. (It’s really weird how this show lampshades the absent cast members by having the other characters say things like “Where is X?” and “we need to find X.” There’s a whole pointless filler scene about halfway through where Jean Paul says, “I was wrong about Raxl. She was with my wife all the while.” If Raxl doesn’t show up and isn’t important to this episode’s plot, why does she even need to be mentioned?)

Jacques, too, has to comment about Cosette Lee’s absence from this episode.

In other news, Jean Paul has begun to suspect that he is not only damned, but is also a devil. Fearing that Jacques has cursed him, he threatens to cut up the portrait, which pleases Jacques as much as one would expect. “If you do, you just might cut your dear sweet Erica from you,” the handsome devil replies. “The choice is yours. But I do promise you this: I won't bleed.”

“Raxl is right!” Jean Paul exclaims, and Jacques does not refute the claim, but rather says, “I'm the devil? As you yourself said, maybe you are too. Now, how does the saying go? As thick as thieves.”

With this line, we get one of the first examples of a clever script-writing trick Ian Martin often used in his episodes: having the last word or line of dialogue in one scene double as the first word or line in the next scene, with different characters. Here, the scene transition line is “as thick as thieves,” used both by Jacques to describe his possession of Jean Paul and by Elizabeth when telling Matt of Holly’s closeness to the late Mr. Marshall. We shall see many more of these from now on.

Because this episode jumps back and forth from Matt’s office to the French Leave Café, I think that, for the rest of this review, I will do what I did in my Episode 3 review and lump all the scenes in each setting together instead of writing one small paragraph for every mini-scene. Elizabeth says this rather enigmatic line about Holly: “ I begin to realize why you helped her to run. Suddenly, a child seemed like a woman to you--a child who is going to be very rich very soon, a child who knows how to twist men around her little finger. I should know. I lost a husband to her.” (Emphasis mine.) What does she mean by this? Is she jealous of Holly because her late husband liked her more or gave her more attention, or is there a darker meaning behind it? Could she possibly be blaming her for Mr. Marshall’s death? This is a plot point that none of the writers ever explored, one of many plot threads dropped later on. That Matt responds, “You lost your husband to God” only makes it sound more like she’s blaming Holly for his death. Was that Ian Martin’s intent, to imply that Holly somehow caused her father’s death, or am I reading too much into this scene?

At the French Leave Café, Vangie tells Boring Artist Tim that she keeps drawing the Nine of Swords--“the card of death”--for Holly whenever she tries to read her fortune. This worries her especially because, as she explains, her ESP is accurate slightly over half the time, meaning that Holly will almost certainly die. When Holly walks up to them and asks Vangie to read her future, she refuses and the focus shifts to Boring Artist Tim and the debt that Jean Paul is just about to pay off. Cue an interminable recap of Tim’s backstory (in short, he’s in debt to the Mafia because he took out $7,500 in loans to pay his mother’s hospital bills). Also cue one Holly line that is interesting if you’re re-watching this after Desmond Hall and you consider how the writers of that arc turned her into a hopelessly naïve ingenue:

An example of the Dunning-Kruger effect? Or did Martin originally intend for Holly to be smart and later writers dumbed her down? I’m thinking the latter.

Enter Jean Paul looking especially dapper in an all-blue ensemble, to which the poor video qualty does not do justice. (He also wears it in the next episode which has clearer video, so, when I write that review, there will be good screencaps.) He goes to talk to Vangie, who tells him that she keeps drawing the Nine of Swords when reading the fortunes of everyone connected to him. She also tells him that he knows of Dr. Menkin’s death because Quito brought his body to the island (or is it mainland?) where the Café is located. And then they have this exchange:

Vangie: "I guess now you will be leaving the Island."

Jean Paul: *shocked* "Why should I?"

Vangie: "With your wife in her last months of pregnancy, she should not be so far from a doctor."

Jean Paul: *suspicious and worried that she knows about Erica* "She isn't. Her sister is with her; she's a doctor. Now...” *hurriedly pulls out paper from his pocket, desperate to change the subject* “Tim Stanton?"

He promises to pay off the Mafia so that they stop pursuing Tim. Then Vangie says, smiling, “Your wife will love his work!”

She has to be feigning ignorance, or at least pretending not to be suspicious of him. Jean Paul is trying so hard to act nonchalant, but failing because he, too, knows that she suspects that something is going on.

Jean Paul: “Will she?”

Meanwhile, Holly is discussing her plans for the future with Tim:

LOL

He flirts with her a little before Jean Paul comes over to the table to commission him. He gives him $7,500 in cash, which must consist of $500 and $1,000 bills that were withdrawn from circulation that same year because the wad of bills that he gives him is way too thin to consist of 75 Benjamins.

That does not look like 75 $100 bills.

  Jean Paul tells Tim that he hopes he can bring Erica to life, which Holly thinks is a strange thing for such a “dreamy” man to say. Tim, on the other hand, is just grateful that his debt with the mob has been paid off before the end of Week 2--which is also probably before most people in the audience have started to care about that subplot. Still, it’s downright exciting compared with his next subplot, which will provide many of the low points of the Maljardin arc and, in some episodes, slow the pace down to a screeching halt. But that’s for another review.

Vangie hires Holly, but, right after she does, look who comes waltzing into the Café just as she stands up:

It’s Reverend Stalker!

Holly: “Why don’t you leave me alone? Get out!”

Overall, a mediocre episode, save for a few good scenes and that cliffhanger ending. Other than that, it mostly consisted of filler--especially of the “where’s Raxl” variety--and recap. Next one’s better, though. I just don’t know if I’ll have time to review it this week, because I’ll be very busy. (I actually wrote this post last week and scheduled it for today, if anyone is wondering.) Granted, I don’t think that anyone other than me reads this blog yet, but I have the sort of personality where I want to do everything yesterday and so I feel like I should be writing these reviews at a faster pace even if no one else is reading them. I wish that I could publish a new review every single day, but it’s just not practical for me, especially during this time of year. So I’ll see you...whenever.

{ <-- Previous: Episode 8   ||   Next: Episode 10 --> }

[jillmckenzie1]

When They Go Low, We Go High*

Movies are a drug for me, and there’s a certain type of movie that delivers a high that simply can’t be beaten. They don’t come around too often, but when they do, it’s like a blast of pleasure to the left and right hemispheres of my brain simultaneously.

Take a moment and imagine there are really two kinds of movies. Low film and high film. Low films are, first and foremost, designed to entertain. That doesn’t mean they’re disreputable or of poor quality, though they can be. Transformers and Suicide Squad are low films that are also eau de garbage. Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Avengers are low films that do what they do with skill and intelligence. These movies give you an endorphin rush, and when they’re done right, they don’t just send you out of the theater with a bounce in your step. Years later, you continue to cherish them.

High films, on the other hand, are designed to make a statement. Artistically, politically, morally, they have something to say. Keep in mind that just because it’s a high film, it’s not necessarily a good film. Schindler’s List and United 93 are masterpieces. Crash is terrible and Driving Miss Daisy is fluffy nonsense.

When you get that perfect merger of high and low film? It’s magic. Black Panther is about the responsibility of power, and about a guy in a cat suit whipping 18 kinds of ass. Goodfellas is about how the lack of honor among thieves trumps the honor of the family, and about Joe Pesci behaving like an entertaining psychopath. Widows is one of those movies, and in this Thanksgiving season, I feel thankful to have it.

Veronica (Viola Davis) lives in a sleek apartment in Chicago’s Gold Coast. Her life is comfortable, and that’s because her husband Harry (Liam Neeson) is a talented thief. Talent, like luck, eventually runs out, and that’s also true for Harry. Along with his crew comprised of Carlos (Manuel Garcia-Rulfo), Florek (Jon Bernthal), and Jimmy (Coburn Goss), he’s killed in a hail of police bullets when a heist turns disastrously wrong.

Disaster has a way of coming back around, and Veronica finds that out the hard way. You see, Harry stole $2 million from crime lord Jamal Manning (Brian Tyree Henry). Jamal needs that money to go semi-legit and finance a campaign to be the alderman of Chicago’s 18th ward. It’s a tight race, considering Tom Mulligan (Robert Duvall) has been holding the seat forever, and his Kennedyesque son Jack (Colin Farrell) is viewed as next in line.

So what’s Jamal’s plan? Simple, he threatens Veronica and her adorable Westie,** and tells her she has one month to pay back her departed husband’s $2 million debt. I know, it’s a dumb plan, but you try telling a violent gangster he has a stupid plan and see how far you get. At this point, Veronica needs help. She’s not the only one in a bind.

Carlos’ widow Linda (Michelle Rodriguez) put her heart into a shop and lost it due to Carlos’ gambling debts. Jimmy’s widow Amanda (Carrie Coon) has a four-month-old baby to look after. Flore’s widow Alice (Elizabeth Debicki)  has nothing except for a mother (Jacki Weaver) nudging her into a career in high-class prostitution. When Veronica finds her dead husband’s notebook, she finds detailed plans for his next job and a $5 million payday. Each of these women now has a choice to make.

I feel so lucky that this movie exists in this particular incarnation. We’re lucky because Steve McQueen, the Academy Award-winning filmmaker of 12 Years a Slave is directing. In previous films, McQueen has examined the resiliency of people and how they deal with body horror caused by slavery, sex addiction, or gnawing hunger. He’s still examining resiliency, but this time it’s about how women survive the endless abuses caused by men. Alice goes from nursing a black eye given to her by Florek to enduring passive-aggressive comments from a wealthy developer (Lukas Haas). McQueen tells us the abuses of sexism never stop. They ebb and flow, and while the severity changes, the existence of the abuse never does.

McQueen also has a wonderful gift of calling attention to a point without bringing the entire film to a screeching halt. There’s a scene where Jack Mulligan leaves a campaign event. It’s located at a deserted lot in a run-down part of town. In a subtle and breathtaking single shot, we see Jack’s limousine pull away. As it drives, the neighborhood gradually changes, gradually improves. Finally, the limo stops at Jack’s opulent home. In a shot lasting less than a minute that includes dialogue, McQueen makes a devastating point about the effects of gentrification, racism, and power. Oliver Stone only dreams of that kind of subtlety.

Along with McQueen, the screenplay is written by the fiendishly clever Gillian Flynn. You’ve seen her pitch-black sensibilities before in Gone Girl and Sharp Objects, and she excels at twisty-turny, “one damn thing after another” tales. Flynn and McQueen’s script never veers toward being too preachy, and the dialogue hums with energy without overtly calling attention to itself.

The cast is hugely talented, perhaps the best of the year. We have an old pro like Robert Duvall who can take a character that’s a one-note racist and make him compelling. We have Michelle Rodriguez, stuck for years*** playing a tough chick, finally given the chance to flex her dramatic muscles. As Alice, she’s not playing a character type. She’s playing a distinctive person, and doing it very well. We have Elizabeth Debicki as Alice, and watching her gradual shift from victimhood to survivor is thrilling. We have Cynthia Erivo, who stole Bad Times at the El Royale, as a quick-thinking babysitter. I’ll say it again — Erivo needs to be a major star. We have Daniel Kaluuya as Jatemme, Jamal’s brother and chief enforcer. He’s basically playing The Terminator, and nearly every time he��s in a scene with another human being, something terrible is going to happen.

We’re lucky because we have a lead performance from Viola Davis that’s controlled, disciplined, and powerful. She’s got the ability to impart more meaning in a look than many actors can in an entire monologue. I love when actors let us see their characters thinking and making decisions, and we see Victoria emerging from her grief and making choices. I thought that Toni Collette’s operatic performance in Hereditary was Oscar-worthy, as it was a primal howl of pain. Davis’ performance is the polar opposite. Locked-down, subtle, but no less impressive.

Widows is very much a genre crime movie with shifting loyalties and a couple of muscular action sequences. However, it’s not a rah-rah celebration of girl power, a meatheaded action movie, or a dusty ripoff of Quentin Tarantino’s work. It’s a fusion of low and high film that operates with assured craftsmanship and is very much itself. This is one of the best films of the year.

*Michelle Obama might not appreciate this, but at least I’m giving her credit.

**Fun and totally irrelevant factoid — this is the same Westie that was in the outstanding Game Night. Maybe this is the beginning of a new cinematic universe?

***Rodriguez is so much better than The Fast and the Furious films.

from Blog https://ondenver.com/when-they-go-low-we-go-high/