#feat. Daryl and Eugene

[emeryhiro]

Carol x Daryl: Favourite parallels (feat. Rick) - Listening to Eugene

I love how they all just grew to understand Eugene's language.

[senorablack]

Chocolate Frog Cards

Words: 8735 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes Characters: Carol Peletier, Glenn Rhee, Andrea Harrison, Moaning Myrtle, Horace Slughorn, Eugene Porter Additional Tags: Humor, Crack, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts Summary: Rickyl Hogwarts AU, feat. underground candy/booze rings, magical torture of the feathery kind, lots of poison, chocolate frog card support groups, meddling ghosts and finding love after years at war.

They say the first step is admitting that you have a problem.

And ok, it’s a fine enough abstraction for people who do, but he ain’t got one—really. At least not the one they think he has. What he has is an upset stomach because he’s probably been poisoned. What he has is his luck, or lack of it, since he’s tied up to a chair and there's a very ominous looking feather floating not two inches from his nose.

He also has a bad case of word vomit from what he remembers. After being chased out of the den at Three Broomstick’s by Eugene, covering his ears and badly singing muggle pop songs as the Harrison sister followed him down the stars, he can’t remember.  It’s dark where he is and he can’t make out anything but the high built window and the snow falling in small pitter and patters against it. It has faint smell of egg and its ceiling must be weather worn, because melted snow falls between its splintered wood and onto his shoulder. He’s just notice that half his arm is soaked.

Glaring at the wet spots, Rick tries to loosen his bonds. 

“Man, Professor D is getting a howler for this one!” he grunts. Writing a letter to the Department of Student Witch and Wizard Welfare first thing...

He tries to hop, thinking if he could just crash against the floor hard enough the chair'd snap but it doesn’t even pretend to budge. It’s spelled into place.

“Ok, not a problem. Not a problem.” he says, totally convinced.

It’s just then a door fly’s open, bringing with it light so blinding Rick has to tuck his face into his shoulder to shade his eyes.

"Finally, sleeping beauty wakes the hell up!" say a disembodied voice.

Rick snorts because, well, that’s going to be a problem. 

[andy-clutterbuck]

“I said enough! Enough.” | 9x02

[my-mt-heart]

Season 11 reads like AK was strapped to the front fender of the car rather than driving the thing. I have been wondering about who's actually responsible for this season's mess ever since the beginning of B block since you don't go from resurrecting a show way past its prime (I can't emphasize enough how great a feat that is!) to not being able to construct a cohesive season arc. Sadly, AK has probably known since she changed her instagram that there would be no spinoff for her.

The little moments: Connie wanting to go w/ Carol, the lingering Caryl looks, Carol tending to Maggie's cheek—those feel like someone's desperately trying to add the actual story in the cracks of a crowded script. I don't want to make you all go TLDR; by giving a point-by-point as to why I think Gimple's providing the notes, but his John Hancock is all over this season. There's definitely studio intervention and it goes far back, to the start of the season.

S11 is very male-driven: it's about Daryl, Eugene, Hornsby, Aaron, Gabriel... We even have more Tomi than Yumiko. Even though there's Maggie (and Leah), we don't get any emotional depth to them, just like we didn't get enough of a red thread to Carol's emotional arc in S6 beyond MMB's nonverbal cues. We have more insight into Hornsby than Maggie. Alpha was well-rounded and Leah could have topped her for scariest villain, because her trajectory would have started out as 'likable' girlfriend.

It feels like there's no point to Pamela Milton; she's wallpaper and a waste of a good actress. There's none of that intricate emotional interplay between Milton and Hornsby that we got with Alpha and Beta. They were foils for Carol and Daryl, but we have no such parallel with Milton and Hornsby, which beggars the question, why? The setup is perfect but squandered, and we know this is something AK can do beautifully.

[I may have worked out how to submit a wall of text! :P – secret friend]

All really great observations. The weird framing of the story was definitely something I caught onto, though I attributed a lot of it to scrambling to tie up loose ends for supporting characters whose stories would be coming to an official close by the end of the season and having way too many supporting characters to do that for. Now that you mention it, I absolutely see how a lot of it is centered around men while there is no emotional realism for the women.  Maggie being forced to trust Negan, Carol and Connie not checking in with each other, Carol and Leah not having a confrontation despite the big roles they’ve both played in Daryl’s life. Kang spoiled us in S10 and imagining what she could’ve delivered in S11 if she was really in the drivers seat is...sigh. 

[theresnosafeharbor4myships]

An unexpected chapter Mr. Muse decided to add to Swept Away (earlier chapters here)

Swept Away: The Landscape of Life (also on 9L)

After all that’d happened, Daryl had expected to stay behind the walls a lot longer than four days. Lydia needed looking after, especially with her skittish demeanor and the way that several of the community folks felt about her. And Carol…he knew she was decently looked-after with the Kindomites, their friends, and Ezekiel always checking on her, but he couldn’t bear the thought of packing up and leaving her in her grief. After all, he alone understood how deep the sorrow ran, how the loss of Henry had also drug up the loss of a daughter none of them knew she’d had, compounding her sorrow.

With the demise of the Highwaymen and fear running rampant, the leaders had called a morning meeting and asked him and some of the other capable fighters to accompany the groups back to their respective homes. The fair had ended abruptly and felt frivolous and tawdry now, and everyone just wanted to return home.

He’d nearly refused to accompany everyone, instead deciding to remain at the Kingdom, but one look at Carol told him she wanted him to help. A soft nod, the intensity in her sad eyes, and a small, flat smile that told him she understood. He’d reluctantly agreed, and the leaders elected to set out the following morning.

Feeling antsy, he roamed the compound’s main square, watching everyone pack up their wares through wet or listless eyes and break down the tents like the destruction of their fortress.

“Hey, Daryl,” he heard someone call out, and he turned to find Yumiko and Magna jogging up to him, instantly putting him on guard.

What new emergency awaited?

“Hey,” Yumiko repeated in greeting. “How’s….nevermind,” she decided, looking to Magna for assistance.

“We brought these back from the wagon crash. Thought maybe…Carol would want one? Or you? Or the King?” She held out two wooden medallions, and he took them from her. “Gave one to Michonne and Aldan, Siddiq, Eugene, Rosita...we thought maybe…”

She let the sentence trail off as he stared at it, a crude H hewn into the circular coaster. Henry? Home?

Didn’t matter. He’d accept their token of sympathy and share it with Carol.

He nodded. “Thanks. I’ll give it to her.”

Yumiko nodded with the empathy of one who’d seen the ghastly border, and he nodded his appreciation before continuing on his way, putting the medallions in his pocket.

He dreaded fulfilling the promise he’d made, but he could hardly refuse her since she suffered in an altogether different way than everyone else. Accepted but an outsider, safe but still wounded and likely self-incriminating, Lydia had hesitantly asked him to take her to the empty stakes, to say goodbye to the boy who’d rescued her and given her something to live for—and to remind herself why she’d chosen to leave the monsters she’d never quite fit in with.

He’d wanted to rip the stakes out of the ground, use them as weapons to hunt and kill the ones who’d brutally slayed so many of their own with impunity, but the last time he’d been there—had it really only been two days?—he’d only had the thought, not the willpower to do it. Decimated, devastated, still reeling from his own grief, not to mention trying to hold it together for Carol and the others, he’d barely managed to wrap and bring home the only pieces remaining of the ten for burial.

He knew he’d have nightmares for years with the horror of the past few days, more visions from hell to join those he’d acquired like a collector.

Though he didn’t need the grave or the stake to say goodbye, he knew others did. Funerals, gravesites, memorials…those were for the living, not the dead.

Though the lines between the two became more blurred each and every time he looked.  

Feeling wearier than his forty-something year old body should, he slumped onto the steps of the theater, a long-forgotten token of joviality that seemed more mocking than haunted now.

His eyes roamed the grounds. Eugene and Rosita educating Rachel, Gabriel, and Michonne on the radios they’d built—an astounding feat of technology nowadays, and one he wished they’d had years ago; Aldan, Luke, Yumiko, and Magna helping others pack up; Jerry, Nabila, Siddiq, and Lydia playing with the kids in the yard away from the business of cleaning up the fair.

He hadn’t seen Carol since the meeting a few hours ago and wondered where she was. Likely with the King.

He sighed and dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes with bottom of his palms. He wanted to check on her before he left, but not with the King around.

Ezekiel was alright in his book, but a bit too…fanciful for his liking. And for Carol, in his estimation. Always had been, and he’d nearly been bowled over when she’d chosen him as a partner.

He wasn’t jealous—he wasn’t, he assured himself—but he also never would’ve picked Ezekiel as a good match for Carol, and he often thought—too often for his own liking, if he were honest—that she hadn’t so much chosen the King as she’d chosen to become Henry’s mom and got the King as part of the deal.

Carol deserved someone who loved and appreciated her, saw her for the strong, compassionate, fierce, and loyal woman she was. He knew the King did those things, he could admit. But she also deserved someone who’d help alleviate the hurts she pretended not to have, who’d remind her that she’d rise like a phoenix after being burned, never to become ashes, who’d weather the forces of Carol until she remembered who she was and who she could become again.

That he felt sure Ezekiel couldn’t do that, if only because the King didn’t know Carol like he did.

“Hey.”

Carol’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to see her plop down next to him on the shady steps.

Close. So close. Arms touching, legs inches apart, fitting snugly together with so much extra space around them.

“Hey.”

He stared out at the activity around the yard again, his thoughts leaving him too raw to say anything else.

“You taking Lydia today?”

Her voice, calm but heavy with emotion, startled him, and he looked at her, surprised. How’d she find out?

She stared at him for a moment before turning to watch the kids play. “Lydia asked me if she could go. She said she’d asked you to take her but wanted to make sure it was okay by me.”

He waited a bit before asking, “Is it?”

“I understand why she wants to go. She must feel…”

He heard the tears cloud her voice and regretted…so many things, he thought with a sigh, trying to safely tuck his earlier thoughts back onto a shelf.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Mmm,” she hummed noncommittally. “Are you?”

He nodded despondently. “Gotta be.”

He realized as soon as the words had passed his lips that they’d dredged up one of the things that belonged to them. A phrase that told the other how hard they were trying. That’d somehow always meant a promise to keep holding on.

He meant it now just as much as he ever had.

She stared at his profile until he faced her again, an intensity in his eyes she hadn’t seen in years.

She recalled their lives before, the ones that had bent and shattered them into people who needed a mantra to speak of their hollowed out insides and faux-brave exteriors without falling into a weeping mass of trauma and brokenness on the floor.

They alone understood what this meant.

They alone were left.

“We can find someone else to take her,” Carol offered softly, the tears in her eyes brimming with ache for the man before her, all they’d suffered together, all they kept hidden inside, all they couldn’t let out.

“Nah…don’t feel right makin’ anyone else go back out there. She trusts me a bit…can’t give her a reason not to after all she’s been through.”

Carol nodded, resolved, brushing away the lone tear that had fallen down her cheek. She sighed and turned back to watch the kids playing, looping her arm through his and holding on tightly. “Come back safely, okay?

He covered her hand with his for a moment, gently reassuring her he’d heard. “I’ll let you know when we get back.”

They sat quietly for several moments, lost in the grief, watching the dichotomy of laughter and sadness play out before them, a confusing landscape of life.

Daryl reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the medallions, saving the other for Lydia. “Someone found this. Thought you might…wanna…”

He handed her the token, and she ran her finger over the H a few times before turning it over and over in her hand. “Thank you,” she breathed quietly, glancing up briefly at him before her eyes fell to the medallion again.

Still, he saw the tears pooling, the light he so loved in her eyes drowning in oceans of sorrow he wished he could mop up and drain away.

“I better head out,” he said quietly, regretfully, not wanting to leave her like this. Not wanting to leave her ever.

“Yeah…” She withdrew her arm from his, fisting her hands around the small token he’d given her. “Be safe,” she entreated as he stood up.

The concern and fear in her voice made him turn back to her once, everything within him crying out to stay put, to remain beside her until the loss felt less suffocating and more manageable, to just…be with her like he’d done the last time she’d experienced this cleaving of her heart, and the time before.

It wasn’t his place though, not anymore.

At least that’s what he told himself as he saw Ezekiel approaching out of the corner of his eye.

He nodded once in goodbye, then set out towards Lydia before he changed his mind.

[underatedcharactersunite]

Beauty and the Scientist; Aftermath

Summary; A series about the scientist and his girl.  Chapter Summary; After Abraham and Glenn, the Alexandrians are faced with the aftermath of their first official encounter with Negan. Eugene and the Reader console each other whilst wondering what is next for the both of them and the rest of the group. Pairing; Eugene Porter X Female Reader WordCount: 1,668 Warnings; A lot of Angst, mentions of blood, a small amount of fluff  A/N - Flashbacks are italics 

Blood.Brains.Skull fragments were everywhere. As the Saviours drove off, everything seemed to attack your body at once. Abraham. Glenn. Their heads were completely destroyed only their torso’s giving any indication of who they were. Your chest heaved up and down as your heart raced in panic. The world appeared to be spinning a thousand miles an hour, you couldn’t focus. Why? They were good people...they were more than that....they were family. Your family. 

Before you met the others you were so accustomed to it just being you, Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene but once the Glenn and the others entered your life they provided this new lease of life into all of you. 

The drive to Washington was becoming tiresome roads upon roads of lonely empty roads with only the four of you to keep each other entertained. At first, you had been content in just watching the endless fields go by of nothing but a few standing walkers. Turning your head to glance at Eugene, you both gave each other a weak smile as his hand slowly made his way into yours, sliding across in the seat, you pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his shoulder before resting your head on it. Eugene responded with a kiss on the forehead. 

The minute your eyes fluttered shut; the moment the truck lurched forward, you almost smacking your head onto Abraham’s chair if it wasn’t for Eugene who managed to catch you. Both Abraham and Rosita were the first out of the truck. Jumping out you noticed a woman and a man lying on the floor unconscious. 

“Y/N, check him” Jogging over, you bent down to examine him. Pressing your fingers to his check examining for a pulse. 

“Looks like heat exhaustion. He needs water and rest now.” Reluctantly Abraham chucked some water in your direction. Slowly you opened his mouth dipping small droplets of water into his mouth so he didn’t drown. Once Abraham was certain he allowed Tara to put Glenn in the back of the truck but not before you took of your overshirt and giving it to Tara so Glenn could at least have something to rest his head on throughout the no doubt bumpy ride.

Looking around the place, your hands trembled as you still rested on your hands and knees. Attempting to stand up, your knees trembled as your knees collapsed onto the ground again. You prepared yourself to get up and help the others when a pair of hands covered yours. Glancing up, your bloodshot, tear-filled eyes met with Eugene’s. The tears you had been forced to hold back, suddenly began to force themselves out. 

Resting your foreheads together the two of you relished in the feeling of the two of you being close together. Wrapping your arms around Eugene’s neck you pulled him in close; you needed confirmation that he was still here with you. He was here. He was here right in front of you and no matter what Negan attempted to do he would never be able to destroy the bond that the two of you had. Never. 

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t destroy the world around you; hurting your family. The people that meant everything to you. Just like he had taken Glenn and Abraham. Moments like this, Abraham would have made some crude commented or a wisecrack; he always made wisecracks. 

Who would have guessed dark overrun tunnels would be lucky? Despite Abraham’s previous reservations about Gleen and Tara going in. After Eugene giving false directions all of you had ended up in the tunnel with Glenn and Tara. You were able to witness Glenn and Maggie reuniting for once something good happened. 

Abraham had made a fire, everyone had gathered around trying to keep warm whilst having a meal to keep us going until dawn where the travel would towards terminus in the morning. Walking towards Eugene he held his arms out as you sat down in his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around you holding you tightly. 

“Would you look at that? Eugene here knows how to show his old lady some attention after all.” Rolling your eyes, you shook off Abraham’s comment. 

“Abraham’s jealous that I have found one hell of a woman, who I’m more than willing and ready to spend the rest of my life with.” Stretching up, pressing a loving kiss onto Eugene’s lips, the second you pulled away, his lips met yours for a second one. 

“I ain’t jealous. I’m just wonderin’ how on earth Y/N does it that’s all.” 

“That’s a secret you’ll never know” The room went silent for a moment before the two of you broke into smiles and then laughter began to echo off of the tunnel walls.

Pulling away Eugene you managed to regain your strength getting off of the floor. Turning around you noticed everyone in various forms of grief and upset. The first person who approached you had been Carl. There had been moments where you had been afraid that he was going to die especially when Negan attempted to get Rick to cut off his arm. The grief was written plainly over his face. You held onto him tightly for a couple of seconds before your body made a beeline towards Maggie, the moment she clocked you coming; her body twisted meeting you in a fragile embrace.

“You’ve gotta let us help you.” You whispered to her softly. “We need to take him home. Where he belongs; with you, with his family. You know no-one’s going to stop until Glenn and Abraham’s death have been avenged.” Maggie reluctantly let go and agreeing to the help. 

Staggering over to Abraham’s body; you placed your hand on his ice-cold body; even in his last moments, he came out with something insulting and sarcastic in his own unique way. But that didn’t stop you from wishing that it had never happened. He should be here with you all going home. Himself and Glenn. 

Rosita nodded as the two of you touched hands over Abraham’s body. Sasha staring at both of you, a silent conversation of grief conveyed over both of you. Despite your grief, you weren’t blind to the obvious tension between the both of them. 

As Eugene approached the four of you lifted Abraham heading him back to the RV for his last ride. You and Eugene expressed saddened looks the entire way, you desired nothing more than to just go home, close the doors to your home and hold Eugene as tight as possible. 

The entire way home it was uncomfortable. The silence, the grief, the anger antagonizing each and every one of you. The Saviours were out for blood; anyone’s they could find a pitiful excuse for. Getting off the RV back at Alexandria there was no relief, no joy to being back to the safety of the compound. After all the Saviours claimed this was there’s and we had to hold up our keep. What was ours was there’s. 

Walking up to the house, our feat trudged in sync. A few more steps, the gravel moving underneath our feet in tandem with each step. Walking up the steps, opening up the doors, you laid your gun on the hallway table, slipping off your overshirt. Eugene was hovering beside you. 

“You were really brave today. Abraham was proud of you, you know that right. Glenn would appreciate you risking your life to save Maggie and the baby, you know that right. I’m proud of you for pushing yourself through all of your fear and doing whatever it took to try and get Maggie through to the Hilltop.” 

“The Saviours attack was inevitable; they cut off all major roots, closing us here like a heard of a cattle. My good was not good enough.” Turning around you closed the gap between you wrapping your arms around his neck loosely, casually playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Don’t blame yourself. Negan did this. Not you. Not Rick. Not Daryl. Negan did this. One day. Negan is going to pay for what he’s done. Just like we dealt with the people at Terminus Rick will have a plan he always does.” 

“I know. Together we have to right tools with Rick’s leadership to battle anything that we might come up across...But right now. I don’t want to think about Rick or the Saviours. I just want to be present with you in this very moment...I know there are times where I don’t say this often enough but I love you.” Eugene’s face twisted to the side as he met yours in a passionate embrace. His hands dug into back giving him the confirmation that you were very much here. Pushing a stay hair that had fallen in front of your face away, deciding to hold your face in the palm of his hands. 

Pulling away momentarily, with a loving look in your gaze, lifting your hand up to trace his injuries that had masked his face. You leaned in again pressing soft kisses all over where they had brutalized his face. 

“I love you too; let’s get your face cleared up and then head to bed. We both could use some rest.” Eugene took ahold of your hand as you led the way upstairs. 

If only you knew what was to come; how your relationship would be tested more than ever before. The two of you were about to enter a vortex where there would be things that didn’t make sense. The strength and purity of your love would soon be put the test. Would it withstand or would it fail? 

Regardless, in this very moment, Eugene had a secret of his own. Whilst he held your hand in one of his hands, the other was in his pocket, nervously playing with something he had wanted to give you for a very long time. Eugene kept wondering; 

When was the right time to ask you to be his wife?  

[bethgreeneishopeunseen]

Hi! I've been out of the fandom for over a year now, and I've been thinking about TD lately. Is it possible to catch me up on all the major things that work in our case in the past year? If it's too much of a feat, don't worry about it. I haven't watched TWD in over a year as well, so I may not understand some things 😅 Thank you! 😊

I actually maintain a summaries tag (X). You can read posts that summarize information, and I know that there are posts which summarize season seven. I also recommend my parallel, proxies, and yellow house tags as those tags were used a lot last year (X) (X) (X). Daryl’s arc at the Sanctuary and the community’s visual and moral set-up mirror Grady completely. Eugene’s arc in 7x11 also mirrored Beth’s arc at Slabtown. Ships like Carzekiel (Carol x King Ezekiel) and Genekie (Eugene x Frankie, one of Negan’s wives) also demonstrate that Gimple still loves Bethyl. His newest ships parallel Bethyl in terms of characters and narrative, which makes no sense if Bethyl sunk (X) (X) (X).

I hope this all helps! 

[shimmershae]

Have a pair of Season 6 drabbles where everybody's happy.

10.  "If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to God!  You're on the couch for a month!" 

   “If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to God!  You’re on the couch for a month!!” 

  With that, a door slammed down the hall, the latest casualty of Maggie’s raging pregnancy hormones.  Somewhere, Judith started to cry.  Through the open bedroom window, Abraham could be heard doling out a little helpful advice, as only he could. 

  “Tread lightly, Kemosabe.  She’ll feed you your own nuts for dinner.”  

  Digging her fingers into Daryl’s waist, Carol lifted her head from his chest.  “Think we should confess, Pookie?” 

  Daryl snorted.  “Fuck, no.  Like my nuts exactly where they are.” 

   54.  "He thinks he's a mind reader." 

  “He thinks he’s a mind reader,” Tara told them with a toothy smile. 

  Keeping a straight face was a feat, but Carol managed, barely, even if Daryl didn’t make it easy on her.  His expression was rather comical.    

  “I am,” Eugene proudly proclaimed. 

  “Prove it,” Glenn challenged.  “What am I thinking right now?” 

  “Person, place, or thing?” 

  Tara giggled.  “That’s cheating.”   

  Hackles raised, Eugene launched into a rather detailed defense of his methods, ending on, “The human brain is the ultimate multi-tasker.  It is not limited to…” 

  “Fine,” Glenn cut in.  “Do Daryl.” 

  “Carol.  Bed.  Sex.” 

  “He’s not wrong, Pookie.” 

[thesickestsinner]

No offense but Rick and Daryl can shut  up (feat. Rosita can piss off too)

Yes this is coming from a big time Richonne fan.

They can never say “Yes, you make a good point but..” or “Thank you for doing what you can”.

They just always have to be on this “I’m right I’m right I’m always right” bullshit and that’s how we ended up with Glen and Abraham dead, children.

Ugh.

and Rosita can shut the entire hell up too - like you have the personality of an Adidas sandal and your selfishness cost Olivia her life and put Eugene’s in peril. You should be happy anyone wants to talk to you after that bullshit stunt you pulled.

Ugh if I could I would swap Rosita out for Denise so quickly it’d make her head spin

[wavenetinfo]

Ever since Christopher Nolan’s last great Batman film, 2008’s The Dark Knight, DC has been in a pretty brutal big-screen slump. Watchmen. Jonah Hex. Green Lantern. Suicide Squad. The various Superman movies. Some of these films have managed to make a nice chunk of change at the box office. But they’re the kind of hits that exist more on a studio’s balance sheet than in the hearts and minds of moviegoers. Unlike its crosstown rival, Marvel, DC has had a hard time finding the right mix of darkness and light, seriousness and humor, gravitas and fun. They just haven’t been able to crack the magic nut. It would be insane to think that the suits at Warner Bros., the custodians of the DC celluloid franchise, weren’t getting twitchy and envious every time a new Marvel flick hit theaters. But now, with their latest superhero saga, they can finally stopping chewing their cuticles — if there are any left. Wonder Woman is smart, slick, and satisfying in all of the ways superhero films ought to be. How deliciously ironic that in a genre where the boys seem to have all the fun, a female hero and a female director are the ones to show the fellas how it’s done.

Ever since her comic-book debut in 1941, William Moulton Marston’s groundbreaking superheroine has been ahead of her time. A girl-power icon in a male-fantasy universe that rarely had much use for powerful women — just damsels looking to be undistressed. But Wonder Women always (or most of the time, anyways) refused to play by those rules. A demigod warrior-princess sculpted from clay by her Amazonian mother, Queen Hippolyta, Wonder Woman was a distaff badass with the courage, superpowers, and gee-whiz doodads to match her male peers: The Lasso of Truth, indestructible golden bracelets, and even a sword that could bring down the Gods. She used them all to shatter the superhero glass ceiling.

That’s the same protagonist we first meet in Patty Jenkins’ Wonder Woman — a rollicking origin story with a clear and distinct feminist message that never bludgeons you with its gender politics. It’s far too assured and sly for that. The film opens on the island of Themyscira, an idyllic paradise with chalk-white cliffs and turquoise waters that was gifted to the Amazons by Zeus. Invisible to the rest of the world, the island is hidden by a protective atmospheric cloak. It’s like the Bermuda Triangle if the Bermuda Triangle were inhabited solely by a race of she-warriors living in harmony and training in combat under Robin Wright. Zeus created the Amazons to put love back into mankind’s hearts and restore peace. But under Queen Hippolyta (Connie Nielsen), they’ve remained in hiding, practicing the ancient martial arts in strappy gladiator sandals and on horseback while speaking in a thick Slavic goulash of accents that give you the impression that Themyscira might just be located somewhere near Transylvania. Hippolyta has a young daughter named Diana — a curious, rebellious, bullheaded little moppet eager to learn how to fight like her elders. She’s not like the others, though. There’s something special about her — a secret link to the Gods that no one told her about. But as Diana grows up to become Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman, her gift reveals itself. And just in the nick of time, too.

When the plane of an American spy named Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) pierces the island’s force-field whatzit and crashes into the ocean, Gadot’s Diana dives in and saves him. He’s the first man that she’s ever laid eyes on. The first man that any of the Amazons have laid eyes on. All of them want him to leave. But Diana is curious. Especially after he tells her about the horrific war that’s raging back in his world. It’s 1918 and it’s being called “The War to End All Wars”. Diana, raised on the Amazonian creed of peace and her people’s duty to fight against Ares, the God of War, sees his war as her war. She has found her destiny. World War I and the Allies have been Waiting for Gadot.

Clay Enos/Warner Bros

Gadot, an Israeli actress with piercing dark eyes, is probably best known for playing Gisele in several of the Fast & Furious movies. But there was nothing in those installments that hinted at the undeniable star power she gives off as Wonder Woman. Granted, the Fast & Furious movies aren’t exactly acting showcases, but still…. Her Diana is both awesomely fierce and surprisingly funny, especially when she arrives in war-torn London with Trevor and gets her first taste of 20th-century modernity. Whether she’s reacting to the unfamiliar sight of automobiles or constricting early 20th-century women’s fashions, she takes it all in like a fish-out-of-water naïf. When she has her first taste of ice cream, she swoons and enthusiastically tells the salesman, “You should be very proud,” as if he’s performed some kind of miracle. Gadot sells the innocence and humor in these moments every bit as convincingly as Daryl Hannah in Splash. Her chemistry with Pine is just as unexpected and electric. Catching him in the nude back on Themyscira, she takes a peek at him in the buff and asks: “Would you say you are a typical example of your sex?” He replies, “I am above average.” Screenwriter Allan Heinberg (Grey’s Anatomy) deserves as much of the credit for their sparks-filled duet as the stars.

As World War I seems to be winding down and an armistice is about to be signed, a holdout among the German high command, the evil Gen. Ludendorff (Danny Huston), is busy creating a poisonous biological super-weapon to turn German defeat into victory. His chief chemist, a disfigured sadist named Dr. Maru (Elena Anaya), is a vision of villainy right out of comic-book nightmares, wearing a prosthetic faceplate that hides her hideous scars. Diana, Trevor, and his trio of mercenary pals (Ewen Bremner, Said Taghmaoui, and Eugene Brave Rock) race to the Belgian front to stop Ludendorff and “Dr. Poison” before it’s too late. Some might wonder why a character who was first conceived in 1941 and who’s finally being brought to the big screen in 2017 has been plopped into 1918? But I’d argue that Wonder Woman’s time period is a pretty clever stealth weapon to explore some of the movies more progressive themes (more on that in a sec), not to mention the fact that it gives the film a retro-cool charge reminiscent of Joe Johnston’s Captain America: The First Avenger. We’ve grown so accustomed to seeing superheroes flash their powers on screen that it’s refreshing to see people react with awe, like they’re witnessing miracles. The miracle of the movie — or at least the fantastic first two-thirds of it — is that the audience feels that same novel rush. As Diana deflects machine gun-fire with her bracelets, flips army tanks with one hand, and whips German soldiers around like ragdolls with her luminescent Lasso of Truth, we feel like we’re watching her feats with new eyes.

The setting also helps to make the film’s resonant feminist subtext feel more organic and less forced. At a time when women were still without the right to vote and were subjugated to a position of being seen and not heard, the fearsome Diana becomes a spokeswoman in word and deed of resistance and empowerment. She refuses to be treated like a second-class citizen by politicians and generals. No one puts Wonder Woman in a corner. On the battlefield in Belgium, she displays a martial courage that her brothers in arms (even including Pine) don’t possess. She’s completely fearless…not to mention a long way from Lynda Carter.

It’s only in the movie’s unnecessary final half-hour or so that Wonder Woman finally meets her match: the special-effects imperatives of contemporary blockbuster filmmaking against which even the Germans onscreen seem insignificant. When Diana realizes that the villain she’s been chasing all this time is, in fact, not the end but just the beginning to a line of villains to be trotted out, no doubt, in subsequent chapters, the movie turns into an eye-rolling digital smackdown that mirrors every other late-period DC (and, to be fair, Marvel) movie smackdown. It would be nice one of these days if some heroic editor just lopped off the last 30 minutes of all of these things. But it’s hard to quibble about what’s wrong with a movie that gets so much right, especially when it comes to Gadot’s revelatory portrayal of Wonder Woman. The wait is over, folks. The DC movie you’ve been waiting for has finally arrived. A-

30 May 2017 | 4:00 am

Chris Nashawaty

Source : EW.com

>>>Click Here To View Original Press Release>>>

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[shimmershae]

"He thinks he's a mind reader."  (a Walking Dead drabble, Caryl).

Not a sequel exactly.  More of a companion fic to "If you use up all the hot water again..." 

Season 6.  Silly happy times. 

“He thinks he’s a mind reader,” Tara told them with a toothy smile. 

  Keeping a straight face was a feat, but Carol managed, barely, even if Daryl didn’t make it easy on her.  His expression was rather comical.    

  “I am,” Eugene proudly proclaimed. 

  “Prove it,” Glenn challenged.  “What am I thinking right now?” 

  “Person, place, or thing?” 

  Tara giggled.  “That’s cheating.”   

  Hackles raised, Eugene launched into a rather detailed defense of his methods, ending on, “The human brain is the ultimate multi-tasker.  It is not limited to…” 

  “Fine,” Glenn cut in.  “Do Daryl.” 

  “Carol.  Bed.  Sex.” 

  “He’s not wrong, Pookie.”