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sharkfish · 5 years ago

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ps i loved this one

(abo version)

for the anonymouse that requested some abo recs!

Best Laid Plans by Persephoneshadow - 74k

Things are going well for Dean: he's landed the biggest design job of his architectural career and is about to get final approval on the project despite how difficult the development company, personified by Castiel Novak, has made it. It's not bad for a moody omega...except things are also going terribly for Dean because he has to get in a plane and fly to a meeting, and course ends up in heat a few hours before. Luckily, Castiel is there to help and both men discover the good that can come when nothing goes quite as intended.

dean is a bit of an anxious wreck, cas is the kind of stoic and precise that dean thinks cas can’t stand him, they accidentally spend dean’s heat together. good clean abo fun.

For Science! by pm_lo - 22k

Selected transcripts and supporting materials from Dr. Castiel Williams and Dean Winchester’s seminal study on physiological and psychological sexual response by gender designation.

it is hard to write a dialogue-only and make it work. this is an awesome example of how tone can be inferred by the dialogue alone, adjective-free, and it was one of the first abo fics i ever loved.

Friends Helping Friends (Telling Me What My Heart Meant) by Annie D - series is 15k

Dean and Cas have known each other for about a year now, and in that time, Cas has never gone into heat. So far.

yo i got nothing to say about annie d except that they’ve got some amazing stuff out there.

Get a Whiff of This by @bendingsignpost - 27k

When no good deed goes unpunished, Dean ends up sentenced to community service for physically defending another Omega at his job. That is, at his former job. It's all a steaming pile of shit, and that's exactly what he has to clean up at the joint animal shelter and clinic he's been assigned to.

With a face full of allergies and a horrific mood, all Dean has to do is get through six weeks of this sinus-assaulting torture. That's not so easy with a smartass Alpha receptionist, but at least the weird Beta vet might just end up being kinda cool.

this is soooo good. due to the whole allergy thing, dean’s scent blind during his volunteer hours. while making this list i am discovering that i really like abo fics that fuck around with the trope. but it does stay true to the consequences of the power dynamic between alphas and omegas. (it’s almost like... abo is.... a parallel to actual life gender discrimination......)

Grown-Ups Making Grown-Up Choices by Carrieosity - series is 100k

Dean is a grown-ass man - he can take perfectly good care of himself, thank you very much. Except that sometimes the easier or more fun choices aren't always the right or best ones, and, all right, maybe thinking ahead and working the long game isn't his strongest suit. It's fine! He's fine.

When he meets Castiel, he realizes that flying by the seat of his pants may not be the best way to attract the super-serious (gorgeous, funny, genius) Alpha. Dean's shrink has been telling him he needs to start making "grown-up choices," and if that's what he has to think about in order to make Cas fall for him, then he'll give it a whirl.

this is an awesome fic about Dean Winchester’s Appallingly Low Self Esteem, being your best self without losing authenticity, and raging against harmful stereotypes. also, great sex. @carrieosity is really good at doing things.

Heat of the Moment by RipUpTheEnding - 21k

In which Sam plans a family vacation at a horse ranch, Cas gets his first human illness (sort of), and Dean finally pulls his stupid alpha head out of his ass.

canon-adjacent abo au where they all find out that cas inhereited jimmy’s omega-ness. dean offers to help out, because that’s just what friends do, right?

Lover by casbean - 27k

Dean knows that Cas doesn't like him. They're not even friends, not really. But Dean can't help it, he wants to be around Cas, he wants to be his friends, he wants... more. But he has to respect that Cas is just not interested.

It's not until Cas gets into the first heat of his life in front of him that Dean is faced with the fact that maybe, just maybe, Cas doesn't hate him at all.

not a lot of people write about ace characters in abo fics (or, um, in general), but @casbeanwrites has created something really beautiful. i love to see this kind of trope subversion and am glad it exists in the world.

Oddly Shaped Empty by jemariel - 65k

Dean grew up thinking -- knowing -- he'd be an alpha.

Until he failed to present. As a beta, he has no mating cycle, no noticeable pheromones, none of the physical markers that are so important in a world of alphas and omegas. He's out of place. How is he supposed to navigate his relationships and find love when he doesn't fit into the neatly-defined boxes he's used to?

By the time he meets his new roommate, Castiel, he's more or less given up on finding a mate. He wears his secondary gender like a chip on his shoulder. But you never know what the future holds, who will come into your life, and how they might change it forever.....

Queer themes, finding identity, reconciling the past, and a whole lot of smut.

you can’t go wrong with @jemariel and their exploration of queer themes in abo!!!

Picking Up Roses by jemariel - 26k

Castiel Smith has spent his life climbing the corporate ladder, and has sacrificed a lot to get where he is. Including pieces of his own identity. Nobody can know he's not actually an alpha....

Dean Winchester has carved out a life for himself in spite of his troubled past. When Castiel Smith shows up in his yoga class, there might finally be someone he can open up to, truly....

Hidden truths are intimate things, and you never know what you'll discover when you're honest with someone.

you still can’t go wrong with jem!!!

The Samhain Trials by jemariel - 8k

On Samhain night, the veil is thin, not only between the spirit world and our own, but between humankind and their inner natures.

Every year, the hunt is run. Alphas and omegas brave the woods in search of glory and passion. Every year, Dean Winchester comes out alone. The soulbrand on his neck means that he has a True Mate, and what should be a blessing has only been a curse.

He hopes, and he waits, and this year his soulbrand has been itching as if it were newly risen.

It's nearly sundown.

apparently i have all of jem’s fics bookmarked. i stand by it.

#alpha/beta/omega dynamics #destiel #sharkrecs #sharklist

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coffeeandtin · 7 years ago

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Streets We Call the Zoo

In response to the “I wish you would write a fic where...” post, anon requested a fic where The Seven visit the city. This one went through a lot of incarnations. Some were super angsty, and some were bordering on crack. The character groupings changed about fifty times, and there were a few times I started this and thought: “Nope, I hate it,” then deleted everything. What we ended up with, though, is something that kind of starts and stops in medias res. Not so much a story, as it is a few scenes interwoven with one another: Faraday is politically correct in his own way, Vasquez gets a job offer; and Jack, Billy and Goodnight meet with an old acquaintance of Goody’s. Title is from the song by The Scorpions. (Oh,and if you ever want to feel really angry, look up “human zoos.”)

“Hey, Red.”

Red Harvest turned at the mention of his name, or at least the English incarnation thereof. It was Faraday. Red raised an eyebrow by way of a greeting, and Faraday joined him at his side.

“Enjoying your time in the city?” Faraday asked, gesturing to their surroundings with a liquor bottle that he seemed to have conjured from nothing. The amber liquid within sloshed.

Red looked around at the buildings that crowded his lines of sight. No doubt their construction required ingenuity, but Red found no inspiration in the high, immovable structures.

“Didn’t you have a poker game?” Red asked, giving no real reply.

Faraday clucked his tongue before he struck a match and lit a cigarette, declining to give an answer of his own.

“You look…crestfallen,” Red said.

“You,” Faraday said, exhaling smoke that he attempted not to choke on because of Red’s observation, “have been spending too much time around Goodnight.”

There was a flicker of a smile on Red Harvest’s face, and Faraday realized something that he supposed already knew: Red Harvest, stoic warrior, smiled more than most people would give him credit for.

“Smartass.”

Vasquez recognized the practicality of shaving, but willingly allowing a blade to be put to his throat was not something he had thought to prepare himself for upon entering the city. Just a precaution, Sam had said; though Vasquez was puzzled as to why he couldn’t just shave himself. As the barber used the razor to remove the lather, along with Vasquez’s beard, the outlaw glanced at Sam, who was reclined in the chair next to his, perfectly at ease and smiling at Vasquez’s apparent misgivings.

“Vittorio hasn’t done anyone in yet,” Sam assured him.

“Good to know,” Vasquez said, taking pains not to move his mouth more than necessary.

There was a quiet smile on the old, Italian man’s face. He worked quickly and efficiently, humming a little tune all the while. No sooner had Vasquez relaxed than the barber completed his task and handed Vasquez a mirror. The reflective surface was impressively, brightly clean; its handle filigreed. Vasquez felt the new smoothness of his face, and smiled at his reflection despite himself.

He stood and handed the mirror back.

“You look younger,” Vittorio commented.

More innocent? Less like a wanted man? Vasquez wondered.

Vittorio looked from Vasquez to Sam. The clandestine glance that the barber and warrant officer shared did not go unnoticed by Vasquez. Sam nodded, answering an unspoken question.

“I have it on good authority,” Vittorio said, all jocularity returning to him, “that our mutual acquaintance left town just this morning.”

“Grazi,” Sam said, as he shook Vittorio’s hand and gave him a sum that far exceeded the cost of two shaves.

“Naw, that boy never did have the sense God gave paste,” Goodnight said as he slapped his knee and laughed at the story their host had just told them.

Billy found himself smiling as he placed his cup back on its saucer. He, Goodnight and Jack sat in the parlor, sharing in a pot of tea with Madame Ophelia; or, as she preferred to be called by friends: Gloria.

“No, no he didn’t,” Gloria agreed, straightening her posture and folding her hands on the dark skirt of her dress. She smiled a comely smile.

Her voice had more than a touch of the South, and she was theatrical. Billy had decided that he liked Gloria the instant he’d met her.

“Any friend of Goodnight’s is certainly a friend of mine,” the illusionist had said upon their first meeting.

She turned her attention to Jack.

“Mr. Horne, I must beg your forgiveness,” Gloria said when she noticed Jack’s cup was sitting empty. “I’ve been a lacking hostess. Can I offer you more tea?”

Jack looked from Gloria, to his tea cup, then back to Gloria as though he were surprised he was being addressed.

“That’d be nice, ma’am,” he said. “And there’s nothing to forgive.”

Gloria stood and poured more tea for Jack, who gave her his profuse thanks. She replenished everyone’s dessert plates and then stood behind Jack, placing a hand on his shoulder and telling him that if their time in the city allowed it, he would have to see one of her shows.

“I would insist on providing the tickets, of course,” she said with a fond squeeze of Jack’s shoulder.

Billy and Goodnight shared a furtive smile.

Faraday had been politely asked to leave the game of poker he’d entered. Politely, he scoffed as he lit another cigarette. No guns, not even an insult; just the statement that cheating would not be tolerated, and the well-mannered suggestion that perhaps he ought to remove himself from the game. There were plenty of impolite things Faraday had looked forward to doing upon arriving in the city; but here he was, walking along aimlessly with Red Harvest. Faraday was becoming certain that Red would pace the entire city for the duration of The Seven’s stay.

Red paused at an art vendor and regarded a painting of a ship on the ocean. Nice boat, but it’s a little drab for my tastes, Faraday thought as he wondered what Red’s assessment of the painting was. He was about to ask when he caught sight of a man across the street who was looking intently at Red. No fear. Curiosity, maybe. Above all, Faraday recognized the look of someone looking to exploit another. The man apparently took Faraday’s notice as an invitation to join them.

“Hello! I’m Paulson. James Paulson,” the man said, all good cheer and smiles. “Does your man speak English?”

Hackles raised, Faraday narrowed his gaze at the man, and made no reply.

“I wonder,” the man said, “If you could relay to your…companion that I may have a job for him.”

Mousy hair, a well-tailored, cream colored suit; and an accent that, as far as Faraday could tell, was purely an affectation. Joshua looked at the newcomer, and could not remember ever disliking someone so immediately. He took an exaggerated drag on his cigarette and wondered if he pretended not to hear the man, if he would go away. No such luck. The man continued to look at Faraday expectantly, then began to repeat himself.

He blathered about anthropological exhibits and social trends. Faraday exhaled and blew smoke in the direction of the man who was either too stupid, or too persistent to care. Hell, maybe it was both.

“He could be a performer; an actor, as it were,” Paulson continued as he blinked the smoke from his eyes, and continued smiling.

Faraday found his hands wandering toward where Ethel and Maria would usually have been situated, but he reminded himself that his ladies would have to wait to be picked up on his way out of town. Vexed, Faraday was certain that was the right word. He cast a glance over at Red Harvest, who looked back at him, brows upraised, as though he were awaiting a translation Joshua damn well knew he didn’t need.

“He ain’t interested,” Faraday said.

“An interesting idea,” Vasquez said as he followed Sam into a restaurant called Liza’s. “But there’s still a bounty on my head.”

“Matters less than you might think,” Sam said, setting his hat on a corner table by the bar, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Vasquez followed suit as he observed his surroundings. The restaurant was small, but well-lit and meticulously cared for. There were few patrons, but in the middle of the day, he supposed that was to be expected.

“No particular hurry,” Sam said. “Take time and think about it.”

Vasquez ran a thumb over his smooth jawline and nodded, feeling more sullen than he probably ought to have.

“You would be a good boss,” Vasquez considered aloud, finding that he had to force joviality into his voice.

“Naw,” Sam said, shaking his head as though Vasquez had gravely misunderstood him. “Partner.”

777

“How did you meet?” Jack asked, looking from Gloria, to Goodnight, then back again when there was a lull in conversation.

Goodnight and Gloria were nearly perfect reflections of one another when they set down their cups and smiled while looking at their laps. Perhaps, Billy thought, the telling of the story of a gala and horribly misjudged drink placement was inevitable in new company. Just as well, he could stand to hear it again.

“Well,” Goodnight began, looking to Gloria.

With a nod, Gloria encouraged him to continue.

“We actually grew up in the same town,” Goodnight said. “She was this great beauty-”

“Was, Mr. Robicheaux?” Gloria asked, feigning offense.

Goodnight paused with his teacup half way to his mouth when he realized his faux pas. Billy smiled at this, and Gloria (lovely, lovely Gloria whose golden hair was only beginning to fade to white at her temples) allowed Goodnight to flounder for only a moment before continuing the conversational tack.

“We did grow up in the same town. And believe it or not, Goodnight was said to be quite the charmer.”

There was laughter, but after it subsided the two southerners became more somber. Jack and Billy followed suit.

“My family moved.”

“We didn’t see each other again until the second year of the war.”

Gloria gazed down at the tabletop.

“You were a Confederate sharpshooter,” Gloria said.

“And you were a Billy Yank spy,” Goodnight finished.

“I was, indeed.”

This was not the story of the gala that Billy remembered.

There was no tone of betrayal in Goodnight’s voice, and there was no inflection of pride in Gloria’s. The former soldier and the former spy sat side by side, reflecting on their past selves. The silence might have become uncomfortable if Gloria hadn’t broken it.

“Never got anything out of you, though,” she said.

“And I never told anyone your secret.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Always meant to ask you why,” Goodnight said. “Don’t suppose there’s any harm in asking now.”

Gloria finished her tea, and pondered her answer a moment before replying.

“No, no harm,” she said before lapsing into silence long enough that Billy began to wonder if she was going to answer.

“I wish I could say it was because of some sense of altruism on my part,” she began again. “But that wouldn’t be entirely true. No, there was some money to be had; but most of all I liked the danger that came along with it. Even just the thought of danger, really. Didn’t matter much to me if it was for Johnny Reb or Billy Yank.”

The company of four sat in silence, and the parlor became a place of the past as they each retreated into their own private histories. Gloria tapped her fingers on her chin, something her mother had always declared unbecoming. Jack nibbled the remainder of a madeleine. Goodnight stared at the opposite wall, and Billy’s fingertips worried at the hem of the tablecloth.

“What time is your show tonight?” Jack asked.

“He’s not some performing animal,” Faraday said to Paulson.

Faraday’s words were becoming heated, Red Harvest realized. The man could be petty, and rude, and overeager to pick fights, but it was rare that Red heard genuine anger color Faraday’s words.

Paulson ran a hand over his goatee, and began to say something else, but Faraday cut him off.

“I’ve seen exhibits like yours. I wasn’t impressed.”

“I just-”

Faraday rounded on the man.

“I don’t think you get it.” There was venom in Faraday’s voice. “I said-”

Red Harvest chose that moment to step in, lest there was actual trouble.

“He’s right,” Red said. “I’m not interested.”

Paulson’s eyes went wide, and his mouth fell open a fraction of an inch.

“C’mon, Josh,” Red said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Let’s go.

The contact was uncharacteristic of Red, and it seemed to bring Faraday back to himself. It wasn’t until Red and Faraday left, with their backs to Paulson, and turned a corner onto another street, that the two shared a smile.

There was something underneath the layers of civility. A scent, a sound. Or perhaps it was the absence of something. Red Harvest couldn’t put a finger on it. That elusive something made him long that much more for the plains. He followed Faraday onto the porch of a nameless bar, and stood next to him whenever Faraday propped himself up against the wall and lit a cigarette. The Irishman was still stewing about something. Red didn’t ask. He figured Faraday would tell him if he wanted to.

“This trip’s been a bust,” Faraday said, then pulled a face, indicating that that wasn’t exactly what he meant to say. “I mean…Hell, Red. I’ve seen that sort of thing before…like what that jackass was talkin’ about.”

Faraday shook his head before continuing.

“Never really thought anything of it back then, I guess.”

Red nodded his understanding. Since Rose Creek, they’d all changed in some way, or another; Faraday wasn’t an exception.

Liquor was doing nothing to quell the apprehension Vasquez was trying to hide. Sam had always been fair to him. Nothing would change between himself and the bounty hunter if he accepted the partnership. Probably wouldn’t change if I didn’t, either. The thought did bring him some consolation.

“Like I said,” Sam told him. “There’s no hurry. I have a meeting here with the proprietor. You should get something to eat; go see the city.”

Always working, huh? Vasquez thought as he moved his heads slowly from side to side.

He began to say something. He wasn’t sure what –certainly not a definitive answer, but he found that Sam’s attention was drawn by movement behind the bar. Vasquez followed Sam’s gaze to the woman who stood there, talking to the bartender.

Her long, dark curls were tied loosely behind her. Vasquez couldn’t guess her age, (a little younger than Sam, maybe?) but he could see no flaw in her dark skin; and though there was a stern set to her jaw, her mouth (in Vasquez’s less than humble opinion) was made for smiling. He wondered if that was Liza.

“Time for that meeting,” Sam said as he stood and pushed in his chair, excusing himself.

“With Liza?” Vasquez asked, jesting and cracking a grin.

“With Liza,” Sam said with a nod.

Sam’s expression was curt, but humor of some sort played reservedly behind Sam’s eyes before he turned and walked over to the bar.

When the woman –Liza –caught sight of Sam, she confirmed Vasquez’s theory. Her smile was bright and warm. And Sam Chisolm was its sole recipient. Sam took her hand and brushed a thumb over her knuckles. The two strolled out of sight, and Vasquez watched them go, wondering how long he should wait before picking his jaw up from the floor.

#fanfiction #mag7 #red harvest #joshua faraday #vasquez #sam chisolm #goodnight robicheaux #billy rocks #jack horne #ocs #maybe a little historically inaccurate but probably not completely #throwing some ocs against the wall to see if they stick #maybe i shouldn't treat my ocs like pasta #unbeta'd

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cosmicpopcorn · 7 years ago

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Death Wish (2018)

Warning: Spoilers may be here. Read at your own risk, nigga.

I can’t remember the last time I saw Bruce Willis in a movie. Seriously. I’m sure he’s been doing work, but I can’t remember the last heavily promoted, anticipated Bruce Willis movie. The only reason I knew about Death Wish was because Daquan and I saw the trailer on one of our movie outings. Also, apparently Bruce Willis is 62-years-old. SIXTY-FUCKING-TWO.

In Hollywood, actresses start to struggle to get roles when they hit their 40s (maybe even a little before then) because Hollywood prefers younger women. But for some reason men can be old and crusty as fuck (not saying Bruce Willis is, because while he is old, he is not crusty) and still playing the same type of roles with no problem, all while having a 30-year-old costar/love interest by their side (at least actress Elisabeth Shue, who plays Bruce’s wife in the movie, is in her 50s). There’s also a trend in Hollywood of people telling women in the same age group as these men that they are too old to play as their costar/love interest. While I’ve heard it’s been getting better recently, Hollywood still has a lot of sexism and ageism. And I’m reminded of it every time I see these old ass male actors playing roles that a lot of time they appear to have outgrown or can no longer play as well as they did before.

This is no shade to Bruce specifically. Just generally speaking. Anyway, this isn’t the first time the world had a Death Wish - this is actually a remake of the original Death Wish which came out in 1974 starring Charles Bronson. They liked the original Death Wish so much they made five of them motherfuckers. Guess they couldn’t get enough of a white man killing people.

The 2018 Death Wish is directed by Eli Roth, who is know for directing movies like Inglorious Basterds, Cabin Fever, Grindhouse, and Hostel. I’ll be honest, I haven’t seen any of these movies, but I definitely have heard of them and if I remember what I heard...they’re pretty fucking gory. When you see the fighting/action scenes, you can tell that this is Mr. Roth’s thing, the shit that gets him all hot and bothered - that man had blood everywhere, necks breaking, guts, brains splattered. It was so vivid I had to close my eyes tight and look away. It probably wasn’t that bad, but it was a bit much for me.

The plot of Death Wish is simple: Paul Kersey is an accomplished man (in the 2018 remake he’s a trauma surgeon, while in the 1974 original, he’s an architect with past military experience) with a beautiful family made up of his wife and daughter. One night, the wife and daughter are attacked during a home invasion/robbery. Mr. Kersey, after seeing how his beautiful wife and daughter have been brutalized, and how his beautiful family ceases to exist while the assholes who did it ride off into the sunset only to do more fucked up shit, he goes on a vigilante crusade that involves killing the bad guys that the cops seem to be unable to stop. He becomes known around all of Chicago as “The Grim Reaper.”

Here are the pros and cons:

Pros:

The movie does a really great job of showing the type of life Paul Kersey has before becoming “The Grim Reaper.” I genuinely liked his family. The life they have is one to envy and you feel the love they have for each other. Elisabeth Shue does an excellent job playing Lucy Kersey and Daquan said he really liked her character. You feel the devastation and understand exactly what Paul has lost when his family is attacked.

Overall, the movie is cast well - Bruce Willis, Elisabeth Shue, Dean Norris, Vincent D’Onofrio, and Kimberly Elise all play major roles in the movie and do reasonably well. There’s a bunch of nobodies in the movie too (at least nobodies to me), but even they give a decent performance.

I like the debate the movie presented - if vigilantes are helping or hurting society and if it is okay for people to get their own justice, to take the law into their own hands when the system fails them. I personally am somewhere in-between, leaning slightly towards us handling this shit on our own since the system is fucked up anyway. Don’t be surprised, I’m the same woman who agrees with Killmonger.

The movie keeps your attention and you are entertained for the entirety of the movie. There aren’t any “Why the fuck am I watching this?” or “I want my money back” moments. It’s a decent, typical “I’m a man and someone hurt my family so I’mma find those bitch ass niggas and put a cap in they ass” type of action movie. It does what it’s supposed to do - nothing more, nothing less.

Cons:

Bruce Willis’ performance as Paul Kersey was too stoic. Either that, or he just wasn’t able to convince me that Paul Kersey was so hurt, so angry about what was done to his family that he was willing to risk his freedom and kill ALL THE BAD GUYS and go on a revenge mission. In the beginning of the movie, Paul does seem to be a smartass, but a harmless smartass - he makes slick comments but ain’t about to put his hands on anybody. He used to fight back in the day, but lost every fight he got into...which is probably why he ain’t putting his hands on anybody. When he finds out about his family, he appears upset, but calm. His brother (played by Vincent D’Onofrio) is angrier than he is, and in fact, the detectives (Dean Norris and Kimberly Elise) suspect the brother first. Paul doesn’t even know how to hold a gun, which results in him getting a very obvious You-Must-Be-The-Grim-Reaper wound that could tip the police off. Bruce Willis didn’t convince me that this man was moved to become a gun-wielding vigilante or that he would be motivated enough to try to learn how to be one.

The 2018 movie’s plot is way too neat. By the end of the movie, everything is right in the world for Paul Kersey and his family. Well, as right as they could be. Everything is wrapped up with a big, nice, red bow and I just feel like the ending should have been messier, more open-ended (like the original Death Wish in which Paul never finds the men who attacked his family). The movie should have been messier. Paul Kersey doesn’t really struggle to become The Grim Reaper and he gets revenge with ease. The attackers literally just fall into his lap. He doesn’t have to work for anything.

The movie has corny one-liners. ‘Nuff said, lol.

The movie brings up questions that never are answered - like why was Dean Norris’ character willing to let Paul go free instead of arresting him when he realized he was The Grim Reaper? (when nothing in the movie indicates that he would do this) or why was Paul told at the gun shop that it would take this super long time to get a gun legally (which is why he obtained a gun illegally from the hospital instead of getting one from the gun shop) but towards the end of the movie he was able to get a gun legally in a day?

The movie attempts to introduce the conversation about vigilante justice in a very awkward scene involving Paul and his father-in-law, who goes on a rant about how a real man doesn’t wait on the police and gets justice on his own as he shoots at poachers. It’s just odd as fuck and at first I didn’t know what was happening.

One thing I couldn’t let go of was the fact that Paul Kersey, a white man, is walking around (often in broad daylight) with nothing but a hoodie and a gun...killing people. First, hoodies make me think of Trayvon Martin and all he was armed with was an Arizona drink and skittles, and now this young black man is dead for basically existing while black at the same time as a violent racist aka George Zimmerman.

But in this movie, Paul is seen as a hero by most. He gets away with killing people in broad daylight. No one seems afraid of the white man in a hoodie until he pulls out a gun. Paul is comfortable doing this in broad daylight and doesn’t think twice about it. Daquan and I were in shock at how bold this white man was. But I guess that’s white privilege for you. If Paul was black, this would be a different kind of movie. Even with the original Death Wish, the boldness of a white man killing people in broad daylight (and getting away with it and being celebrated) is a reminder to me of how powerful white male privilege is in this society.

The movie wasn’t terrible. But, save your money and just watch this on bootleg, TV, Netflix or whatever. No use in paying expensive ass movie ticket prices for this one.

Rating: 2.5 Butter Popcorn Pieces

#death wish #bruce willis #moviereviews #white privilege #male privilege #action movies #social commentary

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