#sandra knew he had a wife

[turtleofdamascus]

Me to Croz after part 7

[jq37]

Are we sure Sandralynn wasn't cursed with like. Shit taste?

It's def a real mixed bag, though I think besides Bobby it's more just wild choices than straight up bad choices.

Bobby Dawn: Regular Freak. Liar, Frumpy, Wrong. Cheated on his wife and then ruined another woman's life over it. This is not a a ranking so I'm not giving him a score but I almost wish it was so I could give him a comically low number. Actually, there aren't any rules here. I still can. Negative infinity and kick rocks. If I was Sandra Lynn's friend I would be *begging* for her to love herself (or at least have a better sense of self preservation) and RUN GIRL.

Gilear Faeth: Gilear was a successful, hot elf before his loser energy kicked in because of his curse. Wasn't he like a diplomat or something? Like, Gilear now is a loveable loser but Gilear then was probably kind of a catch. And hell, Fabian's mom likes loser Gilear and she's a pretty hot commodity herself. As Sandra Lynn's friend I would be doing cartwheels if she moved on from Bobby to be with Gilear. 1000% improvement. And, for what it's worth, so is loser Gilear. Most guys would be frankly.

Gorthalax: Def seems a bit reactionary to go from a cleric of Sol to one of Sol's fallen angels turned devils. But Gorthalax is a nice guy from what we've seen and as a devil of gluttony he prob can conjure up some killer date night food. I think that if I could get over the shock of him being a MAJOR DEVIL, as Sandra Lynn's friend, I could warm to the idea. And he's not Bobby Dawn so instant improvement. However, as there was infidelity involved this would be another GIRL WHAT? reaction from me. But again, less about the guy himself, more about the decision to cheat.

Jawbone: OK so the thing about Jawbone is that I think he's great and a super good person and he's Brennan's semi-self insert so of course I love him. But he would also be an insane person to know IRL. Like, the stories he tells so casually. I think I'd be like, uh are you sure about this one? But he seems to have at least mostly chilled out now that he's working with kids and I think he's a really great guy. There's maybe a risk of contracting Lycanthropy but I'm sure they're using whatever protection you use for that. Solid guy as long as you're cool with his past.

Garthy: When Garthy was introduced, 80% of the fandom was instantly thirsting over them so objectively, "Garthy is hot" is a pretty mainstream opinion. And even if you (like myself) were in the 20% of people not thirsting over them, they're still very clearly a good person between raising Ayda and being super into self care (I loved the scene with them and Mercer's char in PoL). Also they're just really cool conceptually. So again, very normal person for Sandra Lynn to wanna hook up with. The problem, once again, is the infidelity. Especially because Jawbone was willing to have an open relationship! He closed the relationship for her! She took an L here for no reason!

So, to recap: shitty guy, good guy (who was cursed), devil (who is a good guy* and also an affair partner), good guy (with a wild past), and hot pirate (who is a good person* and also an affair partner).

*I don't remember if they knew Sandra Lynn was in a relationship when they were hooking up with her and am not factoring that into my judgement.

Besides Bobby Dawn, the rest of her choices were pretty OK (unless I'm forgetting stuff). Wild and with no obvious connecting thread--she absolutely has a rogue's gallery to rival Batman's--but it seems like the problems she had with relationships came down more to stuff other than, "She picked an objectively bad guy."

She really has the most inconsistent taste ever. I can't even begin to categorize what her type is. Gilear and Garthy should never been on any list together besides, "NPCs with G names."

[wosowrites]

The Two Roords (Jill Roord x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️swearing, fighting⚠️

a/n: based off this request here

prompt: in which reader and jill are secretly married and both play for barca. but when their team tries to set them up with different people, they both loose control in different ways.

You would think that two players on the same team with the name Roord would make the Barcelona girls question something. But no, Jill and you were both dutch, and so your teammates just assumed that Roord was a popular last name in the Netherlands. Jill played with J.Roord and you the same but with the first letter of your name. No one questioned anything, not for one second did anyone think that maybe, just maybe, you and Jill were on your second year of marriage.

You and Jill came as a package deal, which made it that Jonatan knew about your marriage to Jill, but he was accepting of your desire to keep your marriage on the down low. Jonatan knew, Jill's family knew, and that was it. The rest of the team just thought you guys had both come separately in the transfer window, which made sense.

You had always wanted to take Jill's last name, and you legally did after your elopement on a beach in Hawaii.

Now, you lived in a small, but homey apartment in the center of Barcelona. You and Jill had fit in right away, and the team was immediately welcoming of the two Roord's.

Now, almost a year since your contract signing with Barcelona, and longer since your marriage, everything was going amazing. Other than the fact that some of the spaniards were getting restless, and were wanting desperately to get you both into a relationship. Ingrid, Lucy and Keira had taken it upon themselves to find the perfect person in terhe squad for both of you. And somehow, that meant they wanted Jill and Jana together, and you and Claudia Pina together.

But, despite this, Mapi couldn't help but be intrigued by you, and flirty with you, and so was Claudia.

Meanwhile, Jana only had eyes for Jill.

Training on Sunday morning was early, and annoying, but you arrived to the center in a separate car then Jill to not arise suspicion and media attention. You had a coffee in hand and signed a few things before entering the training center. Jill was a morning person and so even on the early 7:30 am training sessions, Jill was there at 6:45. And Jana knew that.

You walked onto the pitch to immediately see Jana and Jill playing around. They were teasingly pushing each other, trying to meg each other and just being all around flirty. You watched them with a tense jaw, not hearing Mapi coming from behind you. "Buen día, y/n," Mapi said, placing her hand on the small of your back. You turned your head to look at her and smiled, deciding to forget the way that your wife and your teammate were acting. Instead, you chose to think that if Jill would flirt with Jana, there was nothing wrong with you flirting with Mapi and maybe Claudia. If she goes low... you go lower. But Jill hadn't meant to go low.

The first hour of training was dedicated to possession games, then you did 1v1's, shooting, headers and Jonatan decided to finish with a 9v9 scrimmage before heading inside for a quick lift session. There were two teams with subs, but the starters on your team were you, Mapi, Asisat, Aitana, Claudia, Irene, Caroline, Sandra and Emma. A strong team, but you would be facing Jill to start. The game was hot and heavy. Well, as hot and heavy as a game could be without slide tackles being aloud, Jonatan was clear in not wanting anyone to get injured.

The game was set to only be 45 minutes, and bu the 35 minute it was still 0-0. And then your time came. Mapi passed it from the back up to Aitana who drove down the wing and crossed it in. You came flying, throwing yourself at the ball so that your head made contact with the ball. For a header, the power was incredible. With the ball in the net, you ran and hugged Aitana before jumping into Mapi's arms. It was just a scrimmage, yes, but you were competitive.

Mapi caught you, and not meaning anything by it, ended up with her hands on your ass, just because she was holding you up. Everything was a blur after that. You saw Jill storming towards you both and then felt Mapi placing you on the ground. Then, you took in your wife's look of fury directed to María. "Get your hands off my wife!"

It all happened stupid quick. One second Mapi was looking shocked and the other she was being pushed onto the ground. Jonatan rushed over and stepped between both girls as you quickly pulled Jill away. "JILL! What the hell!" you yelled, your hands hollering her biceps to keep her from running back towards the confused spanish defender. Mapi didn't even look angry, just incredibly taken aback. "I'm sorry... wife?!" Jana said, looking back and forth between you and Jill.

Both of you ignored her, your eyes still locked on each other. "That was not fucking cool, babe," you said, tears specking your eyes. It was known that you were quiet, and not so great with emotions. So you kept the jealousy you felt of Jill and Jana's flirting inside of you, but it was all coming back up now. "Her hands were on your ass!" Jill scowled. "Yeah! Accidentally! All youve been doing is flirting with Jana! No! No do not give me that 'what are you talking about' look," you told her.

This could not have been more unprofessional. Everyone was watching, not knowing what to say, even Jonatan who was pretty stern seemed to think it was better to just let the situation play out. "Come on... we don't flirt! We just-" Jill tried to defend herself but you then and there noticed the looks of everyone and felt observed, watched, judged. But they weren't judging you, no one was, but the voice in your brain was telling you they were.

"Don't. I-" you didn't know what to say, so you shrugged off your bib and walked away towards the inside of the training center towards the changing room. Everyone watched you leave, Jill looking at her feet. "I didn't know... I didn't mean to flirt, Jill," Jana said, trying to look into Jill's eyes. "No, I know, I'm sorry its not your fault. I'm really sorry, Mapi, I had no right to come at you like that," Jill said, heading towards Mapi. "Its nothing, it's fine," Mapi said, gently hugging Jill. "Go get your... wife... apparently," Mapi smiled, nodding towards your figure disappearing into the training center.

The second you got into the locker room, you didn't know what to do. You wanted to scream, but you were to quiet for that, you wanted to cry, because your biggest secret was revealed and you didn't know how to cope with that, but you were too scared of anyone seeing you. So before you knew it, you had swung your fist into the wall, leaving an indent and leaving you hobbling and holding your fist.

(Next scene is in dutch)

"Fuck! Why did I do that?" you whimpered, looking at your knuckles and knowing there would be a bruise tomorrow. "Did you punch the wall again?" a voice asks, making you turn around. "You know I did," you told Jill, sitting down at your cubby and placing your head in your hands. "I apologized to Mapi," Jill said, sitting next to you and rubbing her hand up and down your back, under your training jersey. "Thank you," you answered, not making eye contact with her. "I didn't mean to make you jealous... baby, I just didn't know what to do. I just thought Jana was being friendly. You know how the spaniards are, they would make out with you and say it was just a way of saying hello or something," Jill said, making you let out a small snort of laughter. "I know. And Mapi genuinely just caught me because I jumped up on her awkwardly, I promise," you answered, looking up at her with soft eyes. "I know. I know. I’m just-" Jill started saying, scooching closer to you and putting her arm around her. You rested your head on her shoulder as you cut her off.

"Easily jealous?" you said, finishing her sentence. "Yes. But mostly, i’m just so in love with you," she said, stroking your hair.

"And I am all yours my love. All yours. We’re married, okay, we are married." I want no one but you.

Jill kissed your head, and then you looked up at her to have her kiss you. You savoured her lips on yours, thankful for the familiarity, and for how right it felt.

[msnihilist]

going against the woke mind virus to say that i want to hear about your gwevin batb au!

SAY NO MORE, BELOVED ANON!!

Okayokay, so the world in this AU has magic, but not aliens. Ben is in possession of an incredibly powerful artifact, the Omnirune (name still pending) that lets him shapeshift into all sorts of creatures. It was created by Azmuth, the (arguably) most powerful wizard who ever lived. (Many who follow the Old Majick believe that Bezel is the greatest sorcerer ever.)

Anyway, none of that matters. Anodites in this AU are a female-only sect of witches, and they are incredibly powerful. Verdona was crushed to give birth to two boys, but when they grew up and married, she was hopeful that one of them would have a daughter so that she could pass on her majick. Both families were terrified of this happening, because it meant that Verdona would take their daughter away and raise her into majick without any interact from her parents.

By pure luck, Sandra and Natalie went into labor on the same night, a terrible, stormy night in December. Sandra was premature by two months, but to everyone's surprise, she still gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

Natalie and Frank were devastated to be handed a baby girl.

To prevent Verdona from taking their daughter away, Carl and Frank switched their babies. After Verdona inspected Ben and lost interest in yet another male, Carl swapped Ben and Gwen and he and Sandra loaded up into a carriage and left in secret. Frank and Natalie presented a boy, and Verdona left. Later, they all met back up and decided that they couldn't lie forever — to keep Gwen safe and with them, their family would have to run away. Max helped them, even though it meant going against his wife. He didn't want to lose the kids any more than their parents did.

So the seven of them jumped from town to town. As Gwen grew older, her majick became stronger. And majick can be tracked, so they had to keep moving.

Eventually, though, when Ben and Gwen were eight years old, Max happened to run into an old warlock named Hex. He knew of an old place, an abandoned castle, where majick was shielded from the outside world, and had been staying there with his niece, Charmcaster. Hex allowed the Tennyson family to stay, as well.

There, they all finally settled down. Gwen could practice her majick freely and finally make friends who she wouldn't have to run from, thanks to the nearby town. Ben became enamoured with the idea of knights, and he swore that he'd always protect Gwen from their grandmother.

Fast forward, and Ben and Gwen are ten. They've strayed far from the castle while playing and stumble upon an old lab. This is where Ben finds the Omnirune, which seals itself to his wrist and won't come off. When the two of them flee, they're attacked by strange creatures guarding the place and Ben is badly injured. Gwen heals him, and the two of them manage to escape back home.

But in all the rush of making sure Ben is alright and trying to get that thing off of his wrist, Gwen barely even remembers healing him. She neglects to tell her parents that she used majick outside of the protective barrier. And it only takes a few days for her to pay the price.

Verdona arrives, smiling serenely. "This game of hide and seek has been fun," she says, as her family stares on in frozen horror, "but we've waited long enough to begin your training, Gwen. Come with me, darling." She isn't asking. It's a threat.

Ben makes the mistake of trying to defend Gwen. His newfound power makes him believe he can do it, and Verdona proves him wrong in an instant — she runs him clean through with a majick construct.

As Ben bleeds out, Gwen frantically tries to heal him. But it's not working. She can close the outside of the wound, but Ben has already lost so much blood, and his insides are damaged so badly, and he's going pale and slurring his words and all Gwen can think is, "not him, please, anyone but him."

"Poor thing." Verdona tsks in mock sympathy. "Perhaps his parents should have taught him to respect his elders."

And Ben's hand goes limp in Gwen's, his eyes glassy, and Gwen snaps.

All of her majick explodes out of her body in an energy wave that destroys the courtyard. With her fury comes cold, sweeping in like a terrible storm on a dark December night. Everything in Gwen's immediate vicinity freezes — the plants, her home, her friends and family. All of it is covered in a thick layer of ice.

But her outburst doesn't stop there. It sweeps through the village, a coldsnap that kills crops and animals and infants. The people flee while they still can and, slowly, clouds roll in and snow begins to fall.

Gwen collapses to her knees over Ben's frozen body. He's not dead — her majick got him lodged somewhere in between. And as for herself, Gwen looks at her hands and they aren't human anymore. She overdid it, literally blew her own skin off, and the being of pure majick at her center is all that's left of her. She doesn't know how to turn back, and there's no one left to teach her.

But she doesn't want to, anyway. Gwen can feel that, if she becomes human again, her majick that's holding this place at a standstill will fade. The ice will thaw, and Ben will resume bleeding out.

Gwen is stuck, in a prison of her own making. And she's okay with that. (It only takes a few months for the cold to inch its way inside of her, too, and Gwen quickly forgets what it was like to not be okay, or how to be sad or happy or anything at all.)

Years pass. Enter Kevin.

(Yeah, that's all just the background, lmao, I bet you forgot that this was supposed to be a Gwevin AU!)

I will save those details for later, if I get another ask about it. I think this post is long enough as it is!

[forasecondtherewedwon]

hanging clothes

Fandom: Masters of the Air Pairing: Harry Crosby x Sandra Westgate Rating: M Word Count: 1687

Summary: They’d let the night grow late around them, cozy by the fire, and then she’d said goodnight, and then she’d reached for him, and then she’d reached for him again.

If it was wrong (it was), at least it was honest: how he was looking at her. How Sandra knew it. God help Crosby because he hadn’t been subtle, but she’d been letting him get away with his long glances, the heavy gaze he kept foisting upon her. She’d always looked away. I can see that you’re married, she’d said when they’d met. Now, why did that fact work on her and not on him?

He loved his wife. He loved her so much that he didn’t just go and say something stupid like, I love my wife, and then make a move on his roommate regardless of that little legal commitment. He loved Jean too much to use her to cover his ass. If he cheated, he wouldn’t let it touch her.

Trying to pinpoint the time if became possible made him nauseous—and Crosby knew nauseous. If he had to guess—and Crosby knew guessing—he’d have said it was losing Bubbles. Bubbles had idolized Crosby and Jean’s relationship, gently though, practically. The letter that had found Crosby here at Oxford did something unexpected: it placed Jean, who was alive, alongside Bubbles, who was… who was dead. To Jean, Bubbles was just as alive as Crosby was, which, rather than sustaining Bubbles’ vitality a little longer, instead made Crosby feel as though his wife’d had a premonition of his death. It didn’t make him feel good, reading that letter. Somebody was always out of place.

Since he’d left her back home, Crosby had thought it was Jean. She’d seemed like she was on the other side of a high fence, and everything he had to do was part of a climb to get back to her. The first time he’d vaulted the fence—surviving a mission—he’d realized there would be more than one. After that, he’d kept jumpin’ ’em, but now, most of the guys he’d known missing or dead, he wasn’t even sure he felt like running anymore, let alone throwing himself up and over another fence that wouldn’t be the last. He couldn’t see the end of them. And the sight of Bubbles’ name in Jean’s handwriting… It was like Bubbles had gone over a fence Crosby couldn’t crane far enough to see the other side of, and it was killing Crosby that it felt as if Bubbles were with Jean, both of them forever untouchable, preserved someplace. He didn’t know how to write his wife back and tell her to stop mentioning Bubbles in her letters. He just wanted Jean to know without having to write it down. Equally, he didn’t want her to know. He wanted her apart from all this. He guessed he wanted two lives.

Don’t touch her, Crosby thought as Sandra set her glass on the table with a solid clack, getting out of this sad bar for two before last call.

But then she leaned towards him and gripped his arm. It was sympathy in her eyes, that was all, round and shiny with the reflected flames from the fire and the alcohol she’d tossed back with a tough elegance he’d felt someplace in his spine.

Crosby looked down, not yet embarrassed by the emotion he’d shown, but beginning to collect himself, to tell himself it was no good now, crying alone by the fire. He didn’t know for a fact that he’d have the strength to stop if he was on his own.

Sandra was on her feet and almost past him when she touched him again, her fingers trailing along his shoulder. Crosby’s heart pounded. In a flash, he’d reached up and caught her fingertips. He swallowed, then glanced up to her face. The first touch, he’d understood, but the second? Call him crazy, but it felt like Sandra’s answer to all his staring.

She returned his look like she was what the British officers believed Crosby to be: a foreigner out of their depth, unversed in local customs. Again, the relevant custom was sex, and Sandra was a self-declared “undersexed” Briton; he, a married man. But Crosby looked at Sandra and thought her naïveté was brave. Not ignorant, not something to be ashamed of. The room assignment hadn’t alarmed her. His stares hadn’t warned her off. They’d let the night grow late around them, cozy by the fire, and then she’d said goodnight, and then she’d reached for him, and then she’d reached for him again.

“Tell me what to think,” he said, holding her gaze and her fingers.

“I’m not sure I know myself, Captain.”

“You’re still a terrible liar.”

He got to his feet. Her fingertips brushed the softened pleat in his pantleg when he let them go. On impulse, he stroked her neck with the back of his fingers and felt the rabbit leap of her pulse. She watched him from the corner of her eye. He stared at her, longing.

When Sandra went, Crosby followed, leaving behind the glasses, the bottle, the fireside scene any romantic with half a brain could populate with a couple of lonely hearts. There was the faint swish of her stockings on the carpet, the thicker shuffle of his socks as he padded across the floor after her. They’d done their talking in his rooms, because it would’ve been so much more dangerous for her to invite him into hers—where he went now, navigating the corridor that separated their living spaces, not drunk but warmed through.

She stepped just inside the bedroom and turned. He glanced past her, taking in the bed, the full-length mirror, the chair just like the one in the bedroom he’d been assigned. He’d sat on his chair that morning to tie his shoes.

“You’re not coming in,” Sandra remarked.

Crosby rubbed his forehead.

“I don’t seem to be leaving either.” He laughed softly.

Tell me what to do, he wanted to request, as easily as he’d requested that she tell him what to think. Tell me who to be. Tell me it’s ok, or that it’s not. Tell me you know my type, and then describe it to me so I can figure out who I am again.

He just wanted something tender. He’d go to war just so he wouldn’t be in pain for a while. And she was lovely in the light of the fire, in the cool dark of the bedroom behind her. Both ways.

Sandra touched him again, cupping his cheek in her palm. He shut his eyes.

“We can pretend it was an accident,” she murmured, her hand slipping from his face.

Crosby opened his eyes because he didn’t know what she meant, only to see her closing the door in his face. Except she stopped while it was still ajar. He wanted to ask whether that was goodnight then, but he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to because he could still see the mirror through the cracked door. His eyes met Sandra’s in her reflection as she clicked on a lamp and began to unbutton her shirt.

Oh, this. This could be the accident. His cheeks flushed dramatically the instant he understood. His jaw clenched as he watched her, her pace unrushed but steady, each button slipped free of its hole with intention. Sandra gave her shirt a tug to untuck the tail from her skirt, then finished with the buttons. She was wearing a camisole underneath. It wasn’t sexy—nothing you’d paint on the nose of a B-17—but she wore it close to her body, under her uniform, and so Crosby was blindsided by how womanly it seemed, how private, how feminine.

Sandra painstakingly unrolled the sleeves she’d shoved up her arms earlier in the evening, then slipped off the shirt and walked out of Crosby’s field of view. He smiled at the thought that she’d probably gone to hang it up. He couldn’t imagine she’d be concerned about whether or not putting her clothes away properly was seductive, but he found that it was. He appreciated her routine. He liked that she couldn’t lie.

When she returned before the mirror, they found each other again and he felt something more. Sandra unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt. Crosby realized he was squeezing the doorjamb, his heart beginning to race. She pushed the wool down her hips, then started to bend over to, presumably, put it away as neatly as she had her shirt, but she straightened abruptly. He could tell by the way she avoided his eyes in the mirror that she must have been blushing. She nudged the skirt aside with her foot, and his gaze fell on her legs, roving from the girdle that covered her hips to her toes pointing in transparent stockings.

He didn’t think she was married, but he wasn’t sure. Did Sandra have a somebody too? A somebody who wouldn’t understand what she wished she’d never had to know? Crosby needed her so badly. He needed her to answer questions he felt he could only articulate with his body. He’d bet she felt the same. He couldn’t say another damn thing out loud, but he didn’t think he’d need to, not with Sandra. It could all be an accident. A botched room assignment—whoops. A little too much to drink by the fire—an honest mistake. His body on hers—fast, before they could think, so fast he didn’t get his pants all the way off.

His hand was on the doorknob.

How quickly could you fall in love? And was it worth it, to love more, when love burned the water out of you, making you weep in old buildings with near-strangers? When all you wanted, selfishly, was for the love you already had in you to stop? To stop, to end the pain in your chest, your throat, your gut? Crosby could enter, and they could search for answers without words.

He drew the door closed.

“Goodnight, Captain,” Sandra said from within.

“Goodnight,” he replied from without.

Crosby rested his forehead against the door and sighed. He felt an odd sense of mercy, but he didn’t know who it belonged to.

[claireelle18]

Everything Turns Out Right - Ross Colton

He’s out of surgery and she meets him in his room afterwards, telling him “you know, they almost didn’t let me in here. They said I had to wait until you were up and asking for me.” Her pointed look towards him.

“They only let me in because you had me listed on your paperwork as your wife. Though I had to convince them, due to us not having the same last name.” 

He put his hands up in a half-hearted attempt, “I’m trying to manifest the things I want by speaking them into the universe.” 

“And you want a wife?” A faked pointed look shot to him. 

“Only if it’s you.” A cocky grin spreading to show his pearly whites. 

“I think your meds are too strong. You, mister, are lucky. I was able to convince them we hadn’t agreed to us taking each other’s names yet and that we were waiting for my passport to be renewed before anything else.” 

He chuckles, “So you’re going along with this wifey?” Her heart racing hearing him jokingly call her that name she desperately wants him to actually mean. 

“Only because I wanted to be here,” she stuck out her tongue, settling next to his bedside. 

Hours must have passed before the next person visited. “Mr. Colton…” stated a middle aged nurse.

“Shhh…please. She is trying to sleep,” he motioned to her curled up in the corner of the hospital room couch. “Kept her up all night worried with the injury as she had to fly in before learning anything further.” 

“So sorry, Mr. Colton. I was trying to inform you that visiting hours are soon to be over.” 

“She’s my wife. She can stay.” 

“My bad sir.” The nurse ducked out of the doorway. She stirred soon after. Blinking around, searching to understand her surroundings. 

“Tony is on his way here with real food for you. You need to eat. I’m pretty sure you last ate that snack size bag of Cheez-Its before the airplane ride.” He said. She squinty-eyed him. “You know I’m right.” 

“You need to eat too, R,” she huffed. 

“Already ate. Hospital food. Not half bad,” he shrugged, motioning to the bed tray with the past dinner plate. 

“I can go down to the cafe and get something before they close for the night,” she started to protest. He shook his head. 

“Too late sweets. He’s on his way. Meantime I’ve been channel surfing and I found a Jurassic Park movie marathon.” 

Thanks to Tony coming in with true food for her before retreating back to the team’s hotel, she was left with him again. “Come here sweetheart,” he motioned to the slightly larger than a twin bed. 

“R…” she started to protest. 

“Nuh uh honey. Join me, I need you here to make sure no dinosaurs come to eat me.” She rolled her eyes. 

“You’re a dork.” 

“Yeah, yeah, but I’m your dork. Now get over here.” She gingerly climbed into the bed as best as she could to avoid bumping into his shoulder. 

Before the team jetted off to the next city for the next game in the road series, a few stopped by to check in. She had slipped out to grab a cup of coffee while the men all talked briefly. “Soooo Tony spilled the beans that you told the docs she’s your wife…” Patty joked. 

“Well I knew she would just be too anxious to sit in the hotel room with one of you guys. No offense,” he replied back.

“You must really love her to go that far to lie about her to a hospital,” Brayden chimed in. 

“And to have us use your card to buy her that emergency flight,” Steven commented. “Ross you have to just tell her the way you feel. Sandra tells me that the way she looks at you is the same way that all of our ladies look at us, but that there is that look of longing written deep in her expression. Hate to break it to you now, but do something about it. Seriously.” No one knew that she had returned from her coffee adventure to over hear the conversation. 

Steven was right. All the guys were. Sandra was, and she knew exactly her feelings towards the New Jersey native as it was a family common topic of discussion in the family box. “I want to give her the entire universe. I wasn’t really lying about the whole wife part, more just trying to actually speak what I want into existence with her. I know Tony knows this since he was there to help me pick it out, but I have the ring for her.” A ring?! So he had that planned out already. 

She burst into the already cramped hospital room, carefully flinging herself into the body of the man she loved so much. A couple of the guys chuckled at the scene in front of them. “I love you so much, R.” 

“So I am guessing you heard the conversation,” his laugh reverberating through her. 

“Every word.”

“Well fuck this wasn’t really the way I had thought it would happen,” he glanced around the room at the guys. “I don’t even have it with me. Didn’t expect to have you here with me, even if it is due to the unfortunate circumstance.” 

“I don’t care if you physically have it. You have known that items aren’t important to me.” Her eyes getting all teary.

“Sweetheart, it’s important as it’s my promise to you. You deserve to have a ring. It’s been in my nightstand drawer for months.” That was true. He bought the ring almost a year ago. She had left for a weekend to visit her family, which meant he was able to go pick out the right ring for her. He had been speaking with a local jeweler for a handful of weeks, and the designed ring finally came in. 

The team left, and the couple (well Ross) was discharged from the hospital. The flight back to Tampa was uneventful, except for the company of one of the trainers to make sure there were no unforeseen complications to the injured offensive. When the two arrived home, he pulled the velvet box from that back part of his nightstand. Her tears springing to blur her vision. “Again, not how I had imagined or planned to do this for you,” he started. 

She shook her head, a silent laugh shaking her body. “My love, you have been the best part of my life,” he continued on. “The nonstop love you have for everyone around you. How much you pour yourself into your life. I could not even imagine life without you in it. When you came into my life, the sunshine brightened the world even further. I saw it from a different outlook that only you could show me.” He watched her closely as he momentarily struggled with the small box. 

Pulling it open, revealing the large custom ring to her. “Will you do me the honor of continuing that life, and be my wife?” He asked her. 

“Absolutely yes! I would say yes in every life time to you Ross.” She couldn’t imagine her life without him in it, and was so glad he felt the same. Through it all, life would be amazing with each other by their sides. 

[gumballavocadoharry]

An old affair: Jack Chambers:

Clinks of wine glasses, pops of champagne bottles and the chatter and laughter of the dining room was a typical treat for the Chambers. This was Alice and Susan's time to don their best evening dresses and jewelry and a time for Roger and Jack to suit up in their best tuxedos, accessorized with customed watches.

Two glasses of wine, one glass of iced tea with lemon and another of cola. The appetizers had arrived along with everyone's ideas for dinner time chatter. Alice went on about how Bunny had asked her to spend a weekend together in the Netherlands for a girl's trip. Alice expected Jack to show some apprehension, to protest his wife leaving all the domestic work and the child rearing for the weekend for himself alone- not that he didn't enjoy it, but that it was a handful already for the couple alone, Jack only imagined how it was when he was solo in running through the house chasing Roger to get him to take a bath.

Roger's giggles filled the house at every corner. Meanwhile, Jack had swore he put his back out grabbing the ankles of his kiddie, wrestling him out from under the bed. By the time bedtime had arrived, Jack had little energy to fight with Roger about how many stories should be read. So, he read six of them before passing out on the couch for an hour before dragging his body up to his room at one in the morning.

But instead, Jack just admired his wife. Her dainty, delicate neck that donned a gold necklace that matched her fancy ruby gold ring. Her blonde hair tussled to the side to highlight the dangling rose colored earring with gold trimming around them. Her wrist reached for her wine glass, sipping lightly and elegantly like a poise mannequin or ancient painting that abstracted the impression of everything a woman should represent. And Alice was exactly that. Jack pressed a gentle peck to her cheek, not able to resist the air of laud that suffocated him.

"Jack?" His head shot up to a tall sandy brunette headed woman with the most bewitching eyes. Her tight fitted maroon dress hugged her slender curves and arched legs that seemed to cup perfectly together without one pinch of imperfection. In the eyes of young Roger, this woman had walked right off a magazine cover. Her smile widened to show her pearly straight teeth, "Jack Chambers, is that you?" Jack could feel his wife's body stiffen.

This woman ran closer, now standing above their table, "Jack, it's me, Sandra. Remember, from Manhattan?" Her accent rang between an ounce of Brooklyn mixed with a European blend. What the man didn't expect was for this woman to throw her arms around him with such a quickness. She held him like this for a few minutes, making Jack's cheeks flustered and sweaty and Alice's jaw clench and her knuckles turn a boney white.

Jack cleared his throat, scanned the table and introduced Sandra. "Oh, is this your family? They're lovely!" Alice's pinched tight smile yet glaring eyes didn't seem to rattle Sandra....in fact she upped her introduction. "I used to see Jack around the corridors in University- remember that, Jack? Oh, he was Mr. Wattson's favorite student...so smart and funny. He knew how to make all the girl's go for him- there was one girl, May, remember her Jack? You and her-"

"Oh yeah, she was my science partner while we were learning about mechanical techniques." Jack's throat felt white and dry. He knew May, very well and wanted to one day be someone he could forget about.

"Yeah...It was nice seeing you, Sandra." Jack wanted this woman away from the table as soon as he could get her. Alice was a quiet woman with an active mind. Of course, she knew Jack was faithful, she just hated Sandra. Everything about her: her body, her thick hair cut into this shoulder length curly and her walk that seemed to make men stare every time she passed them with her behind jiggling more than it should've.

But she was gone now. She was polite, but insolent. Impudent, coming over and flaunting herself like that in front of another woman's children. "Jack, who was she?" Alice's eyes held gripe and resentment that bubbled and brimmed through her stare like cold ice to warm skin.

"She was a classmate back in Manhattan when I was in college. We knew each other from one of my friends, Daniel, I think." The peppy relaxing dinner was now full of tension and bubbling internal angst. Alice's tense silence was evident when her fork would stab her plate a little harder than normal. The screech and scrape jotted through Roger's ears like nails on a chalkboard. It made him cringe with every bite from his fork from his mother's hostility that she took out on her plate.

The car ride home was quiet, yet Susan and Roger's glances and looks to each other spoke loudly about what everyone had witnessed at the table. Alice stared blankly out her window, looking banal at all the speeding cars that whizzed past their car. The lights of streetlights and front porch hues, flickered off her irises, radiating a blue, then gray and then hazel shimmer off them. "How was dinner kids?" Jack's eyes still locked on the road; desperate to saw the thick heave of ice that wavered in the car. "It was really good!" Roger allowed Susan to speak for the both of them. Jack understood... Susan being the oldest knew how to assert a sense of reassurance that coupled for the both of them.

The minute Jack pulled into their driveway, Alice stepped out with the kids and asked them to enjoy Tv time downstairs before she dragged Jack up to their room.

"I wasn't looking her up and down, Alice! I wasn't looking at her at all! I wanted her to leave!" Alice sighed; rubbing her feet from the heels that she set aside her and adjusting her seating on the bed bench. "Well, everyone else was looking at her.... her throwing herself at you in front of our children. Disgusting!" She scoffed, "And why did she have to bring up May? Dumb slut-"

"Alice!" Alice looked down, cheeks flushed and fevering. Her mouth suddenly became dry and achy. Her eyes tried to brim with pity tears, but she quickly swiped them away like a gnat had landed on her. She didn't want Jack to see her pitiful jealousness, to her it was a weak insecurity and a slash to her collectedness.

"Baby?" Jack's voice so soft and warm, like a teddy bear. He was a teddy bear to Alice. So full of understanding and love...... she looked into his eyes with tears in her own. She raised her hands before sniffling away her angst. Alice let her blonde locks tickle her cheeks as she shot her head down to floor. Her hair was a curtain to cover the shameful guilt that leered into her like poison. And it was poison.

But.... a feeling of a large finger had pulled her hair to reveal her soft face. Then.... it wiped away a straying tear that strolled down across her left cheek.

"Jack.... who was she anyway? Beyond Daniel, I mean." Jack bit his lip before turning to Alice's green eyes. "A mutual friend from my friend, Daniel, at the time-" "Jack.... she hugged you and was very friendly with you than you were with her.... she's more than a mutual friend." "An ex... we had a small thing in college, but that was it! And besides, I broke it off because I found out she had cheated on me with this other guy- James Willings-"

Jack had disliked that guy a lot in college, flashing his expensive cars and watches- buying the woman he went with rings like broken promises were cheap.

"Your ex girlfriend?" Jack nodded. Alice put a hand to the bridge of her nose, "Jack, why didn't you tell me this before?" "Because, since the relationship- if you can call it that- was so short, I didn't think it would be relevant."

Alice stared at her nails, peeling off the artificial parts, "Did you ever kiss her? Or touch her?" Jack sat beside Alice. He took her chin into his palm, "We barely looked at each other, our relationship lasted two weeks at best. Promise." Alice smiled slightly, "I'm sorry babe. I shouldn't have kept that from you. I wanted to tell you at the table, but I didn't want the kids to know." Alice threw her arms around Jack's neck.

"I'm sorry too Jack. I know you didn't mean any harm. I love you,"

"I love you too honey."

Jack kissed Alice's cheek before pressing his forehead against hers. He looked into those lush kitten eyes that he fell for the day he met them. He saw future in them.... his future. No one else's but Alice's.

And only Alice's.

[alouiadina]

Mafia

A couple weeks back @avonne-writes and I talked about au's for buff Gale and twink John, and one of them was a mafia au, and I've decided that I'd like to make it more detailed.

So, Gale is head of a mafia, don't know which one. He killed his father for the position, but nobody mentions it out of fear/respect/ they like Gale better than his father. He gets rid of anybody he thinks is still loyal to his father, and replaces them with people he trusts. Rosie is his right hand, can be tough but is still shy and sweet, a similar story with Crosby. And a thing with Crosby that really isn't important to the story, but Crosby is cheating on his wife with Bubbles, not Sandra, then they get a divorce while his and Bubbles' relationship continues. Other people like Dickie, DeMarco, Blakely are also there.

On the other side of things, Curt and Bucky work at a diner. It opened in like the 40s/50s and the style never really updated since. They're both working there while attending college.

Anyway, for one reason or another, Gale, Rosie, Harry, etc. go to the diner, which is called Andy's or Jack's diner or something. Bucky's the server, and there's immediate attraction between the two of them. There's light flirting, and Gale ends up giving Bucky a generous tip. Gale starts coming in at least once a week, always leaving a generous tip for Bucky, always flirting. Bucky gives Gale the nickname "stalker," though he doesn't actually know how fitting that nickname is. That is until one night when Bucky is walking home from work (Curt, who's usually his ride, wasn't working that day, and is maybe hooking up with Dickie) and he gets mugged.

Bucky ends up getting stabbed when trying to avoid getting mugged, and Gale makes himself known. He nearly beats the man to death before bringing Bucky to his car and taking him to Helen, who's a close friend and nurse. After Helen stitches Bucky up, Gale drives Bucky to his apartment, which freaks Bucky out, telling Gale to give him some space.

Harding is a detective with a strained marriage who is a bit of a father figure to Bucky. Omitting some details, Bucky tells him that he got stabbed coming home from work. With some pressing, he brings up Gale, but not the fact that he knew where Bucky lived and that he wasn't taken to a hospital to do it. Harding warns him against seeing Gale.

Some stuff happens, Bucky forgives Gale for stalking him, as without him, Bucky would've not had his knife whole stitched up. Their relationship kind of fast tracks so that the two of them become one of those horny for each other couples. He also finds out Harding and his wife are getting a divorce, and that he's starting to see his partner, Jack. Jean and Harry's divorce happen here, Curt and Dickie get eloped.

Maybe Bucky gets kidnapped and Gale gets scary. Who knows, that's all I have. (also, ken is somehow in this story and his and Rosie's relationship develop in the background)

[mastersoftheair]

So just to clear the air (and I guess my massive confusion) Harry never slept with Sandra, correct? I gotta say I need to read his memoir at this point as he is so intriguing to me, as well as masters of the air book, but like you said it’s a “blink and miss it” thing. I didn’t interpret it as anything more than having a few friendly conversations. It was more about emotional infidelity to me than physical, but given the circumstances and that exact heartbreaking point in time for Harry I can’t find it in me to blame either of them.

for me, ig i'm coming at my position from a place of bias. i'd read crosby's "a wing and a prayer" sometime in either 2021 or 2022 (those years blend together tbh), so i've had a lot of time to think about those 2 and their relationship and i lean towards "yeah, it likely happened" (this is a long response btw bc i'm quoting from the memoir):

crosby introduces his new friend, alexandra "landra" wingate (aka sandra westgate), in the chapter "learning about americans from the british" (this chapter was basically what we see in episode 6). moving on from this tho–

in the chapter "with landra in london", he expands on their growing relationship and the reader learns more about landra (she is genuinely Such an interesting person, and probably a spy). crosby writes about her with such admiration, regularly bringing up how smart she is. also, she's a captain!

this chapter's pretty important in how i formed my opinion on the matter. i understand the argument that the closeness of their relationship was intentionally left vague, but this chapter reads in a way that makes it feel Heavily implied despite not saying a lot (especially alongside crosby's emphasis on his wife jean being "four thousand miles away", as well as his own loneliness and despair wrt to all the missing and dead). there are some standout lines here:

-"I had Jean at home and Landra in England." (not a red flag, but it's a flag) -"I started seeing Landra every time I could." (cool) -"All I knew was that [Landra] was making my life much more endurable." (also cool) -"I did not tell Jean about Landra." (the last sentence of the chapter. it gave me pause and almost instantly reshaped the way i viewed that whole chapter)

the next chapter, "r&r with jean", crosby recalls how much the war took a toll on both him and his relationships. for a time, jean wrote more letters to croby than the other way around ("I began to skip writing to her."). i assume crosby must've been radiating Exceptionally negative energy bc he gets told this: "Croz, we can't stand to have you around. We want you back, but we want you to go home for a while." (i found the phrasing here really funny tbh. your vibes Suck! just Get Out of here!!)

so, crosby contemplates seeing jean again, wondering how both of them may have changed. he also brings up landra, for Some Reason: "What would I think of her? Protected in the States as she was, how would she compare to Landra? Now that I had grown so much, had such experiences, how would Jean and I fit together?"

the rest of the chapter Is about meeting and catching up with jean, however, and you can tell that he loves her a Ton. it's very sweetly written (he also basically ends the chapter saying "btw, we conceived our first child ;) ")

the final chapter about landra is "london junket" which begins with "When I returned from the United States and my idyll with Jean, I knew I had to do something about Landra." i think that sentence alone is pretty damning. if landra was just a friend, why would you be anxious about calling a friendship off? is it a guilt thing?

the context here is that crosby feels Far less lonely and depressed. he's met up with jean, life in london is finally "a delight". i found that important bc it gives me the impression that crosby desperately wanted companionship (possibly of two kinds), and he found that in landra– a friend and a maybe a [REDACTED]. now that he's having a great time with his friends in the 100th And he's met up with his wife, that itch's been scratched (that's just my opinion tho). bc of that, he decides to say goodbye to landra. they have this exchange:

"When a month passed after you were to return, and you did not phone me," she said, "I suspected that it was over. You found things good with Jean?" I told her about R&R in the U.S. I told her more about Jean. I told her about Stephen Patrick, Jeffrey Allen, or Evalyn. "When I realized you were gone," she said, "I no longer said no to a nice American at my office. I have been with him several times. I like him." (interesting) "I’m glad." (also interesting) "He is not married, He is not so dashing as you, but we have good times together." Me "dashing"? That was not my self-image. So much for Landra."

all put together (and with over 2 years to think about it), i Really kinda saw That Scene coming. but, like i said, i had that bias. and since i'd had a good amount of time to think about them, i came out the other end still excited to see them on screen. i found (and still find) landra a fascinating woman who must've had an exciting life (crosby's okay too ig lol). i also see them as a couple of imperfect, even selfish, 20somethings (speaking as an imperfect and selfish 20something). not to be corny, but "it takes 2 to tango". landra is Very intelligent, and crosby recounts how that aspect of hers left him in awe. she'd've 100% known the guy was married. and if signs point to her having had sex with the man, then she either made peace with it or simply didn't care (a lot of women are like that). plus, they're real people and real people contain multitudes idk. maybe some wife somewhere across the atlantic is hard to care about if you've never met her and never will. maybe it's hard to consider your wife's feelings in the midst of your own misery. a female character doesn't have to be wholesome and pure to be considered well-written. that certainly doesn't apply to most male characters. like you said, no one is perfect!

maybe, crosby left it vague out of respect to his wife. maybe it's vague bc nothing happened anyway (funny way to write it tho). maybe the wingate family wanted to avoid association with MotA bc it Literally didn't happen. or maybe they know it happened, but want to keep her name clean out of respect (who wants one brief relationship that happened 80 yrs ago to define you/your loved one decades later? that's 100% understandable). whichever the case, even crosby's kids are in a 50/50 split. i still lean towards "it happened", but it doesn't make me dislike either of them. they're flawed and i can respect that more than the show portraying either as picture perfect.

NONE of this is to say that i'm cool with cheating (or giving a "world war cheating pass", so to speak). while i find it realistic, it still wouldn't have been fair to jean, whether she knew about it or not (being a woman in the 1940s wasn't easy by any stretch). this Also isn't to dismiss anyone else's opinion on the matter, bc cheating on your partner is still a shitty thing to do. this whole spiel of mine is bc i like to share my opinions and i'm allergic to being concise. i write like i talk and on all levels except physical, anon, i'm giving you a long-winded rant over coffee and croissants lol

thanks for the ask!

[jonesypiercedme]

Please Consider Donating!

On behalf of Krisztián Koller and @edvina-brkic who brought this to my attention, please look into this campaign on Go Get Funding!! https://gogetfunding.com/help-the-koller-family/ Please help this father of 6 from Hungary after an intense shoulder injury receive the proper treatment he needs going forward! They have a bright and hopeful future but medical expenses and accidents like these can be a sword of Damacles without proper follow-through and treatment. I know I would not have been driven insane and mistreated if I had received proper treatment for illness and injuries the first time, but no one knew I was injured. The pain landed me in the psych ward 4 times before it was re-addressed, and not even properly!!!! Right now, you can be fairly certain someone is hurt, and spare a few dollars, especially as fundraising and paying for expenses gets more and more difficult on a multitude of platforms.

Now, a random selection of some of my favorite poems to recommend so this does not count as spam and is a reward for reading his story first and reblogging/liking/donating to spread this campaign:

Ozymandias by Percy Shelly

John Milton - On His Deceased Wife

Because I Could Not Stop For Death by Emily Dickinson

You Get Fat When You're in Love by José Olivarez

Four Skinny Trees by Sandra Cisneros

[melis-writes]

one of vic’s ribs gets cracked during her pregnancy so michael dotes on her 🥺🥺

Omg all the Michael and Victoria fluff, love, and Michael taking care of her while she recovers. 🥺😭 I love this!! Michael being so tender, soft and gentle with his wife. 😌❤️

“I’m eager to meet them,” Michael murmured, gently rubbing over your almost nine-month old baby bump. “It won’t be long now.”

Blushing, you smiled down at your baby bump and placed your hands over top of Michael’s. “We’ll get to see this little one in just a week from now. Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?”

“Mm,” Michael’s eyes met yours. “I have a feeling it’s another boy.”

“Verona wants a baby sister so badly,” you chuckled quietly. “I can’t blame her.”

“Neither can I,” Michael kissed your cheek softly, lacing both of his hands with yours. “I’m no different. If it’s a girl, what would you like to name her?”

“I have so many name ideas for a baby girl, but…” You exhaled softly, resting your head against Michael’s shoulder. “I love the name ‘Maria’ so much. It’s stuck with me.”

“Maria,” Michael repeated, nodding. “A beautiful name. I agree.”

“And if it’s a boy, we’ve decided on James, haven’t we?” You smiled up at your husband shyly.

“That’s right, darling,” Michael murmured against your cheek before giving it another kiss. “A week from now and we’ll find out. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

On your fourth planned pregnancy, you and Michael both didn’t anticipated it would be filled with heavy nausea, consistent morning sickness and dizziness based on your pregnancy experience with Vincent a year and a half ago.

While the full term of your pregnancy went well with Vincent and with less fatigue and sickness that you felt pregnant with the twins, giving birth was almost twice as much more painful due to the knife injury in your side Kay caused.

Fully recovered from that with barely a mark to remember it by now almost two years later, you certainly didn’t expect to cut your work and regular duties and hobbies short with your fourth pregnancy now.

Michael has always been cautious, extra protective and caring towards you from the first day of all of your pregnancies all the way up until you’ve recovered from the aftermath of birth, but the two of you never limited your daily activities or intimacy until the six-month mark.

This time around with your fourth pregnancy, you took a break from work and spent most of your day resting and with the children due to the restless and nausea four months in.

Reassured it’s no health complications with you nor the baby by Doctor Katherine and Mama Corleone, the same couldn’t be said for Michael.

Michael wanted you checked up on by the doctor and a specialist in childbirth and pregnancy several times a week. Any pains, discomfort or concerns would be resolved with instantly, even if it was in the middle of the night.

When your pregnancy cravings settled in wanting apple slices smothered in peanut butter or fried pickles, Michael made sure you never waited long just as he made sure you took on no burden of a task or strained yourself in any way.

Grateful and appreciative for your husband’s relentless support and gentle care, you knew unfortunately neither Sandra nor Theresa had the same type of care when they were pregnant from Sonny or Tom.

The timing and your contractions lined up well throughout your last pregnancies spent in the hospital, but your water had broke and time was not on your side when it was time to give birth to your baby.

“AH!” You shrieked out in pain and clutched onto your baby bump as Doctor Katherine and the two nurses Michael hired for your aid surrounded you—quick to carefully lay you down against spare pillows and cushions.

Michael rushed into the living room, panicked and alarmed by the sight of you being consoled at home rather than being immediately brought to the hospital.

“Victoria?! What’s going on here?” Michael narrowed his eyes, storming in. “She’s giving birth—why isn’t she being taken to—”

“There’s no time, Mr. Corleone!” Doctor Katherine frowned, snatching a pair of towels one of the nurses handed her. “The baby is coming, it’s far too late.”

“M-Michael!” You cried and reached your hand out to your husband for support.

Michael had been all but too used to waiting in hospital lobbies for hours as you were in labour; sitting, wondering in anxiety and curiosity, worrying about you and taking the doctor’s words with a grain of salt.

If Michael couldn’t be there with you at your hour of need, especially when you were giving birth to his child, pained and stressed for hours, nothing else would satisfy him. Mere observations weren’t enough for him, but having you give birth at home and in front of Michael was something else altogether.

By your side and accompanied by Mama Corleone, Connie, Sandra and Theresa for all the support and care you could need, Michael held your hand and was with you from the first set of contractions onward.

“It’s alright, darling. Breathe, just breathe,” Michael would whisper in your ear, wiping away your tears and the sweat forming on your forehead. “You can do this, baby. I’m here. I’m with you.”

Although the bleeding was controlled well and the nurses administered some painkillers under Doctor Katherine’s discretion, a home birth was truly not much different from that at the hospital.

Going through agonizing contractions again and again, the pain of pushing your body to the limit as your baby is ready to be born was and is the same anywhere.

The sheer difference lies in the fact that Michael was there to witness you give birth and keep you comfortable and calm like nobody else could.

With each wave of contractions or doctor’s commands, Michael understood all the more that his role as your husband and by your side during birth could only be for love and support no matter how much pain you were going through.

Michael had never witnessed a live birth of any kind before nor did he truly understand the complications and complexities of childbirth but he felt in his core he was witnessing a beautiful, sacred moment; the moment baby James was finally born.

Instead of rejoicing instantly with tears of joy at the birth of your fourth child, all you could do was succumb to the stinging, numbing pain in your ribs the moment James was born.

Michael was the first to realize something was gravely wrong when you screamed out in pain and weakly clutched your side.

One of your ribs had cracked during birth and Doctor Katherine immediately came to tend for it and get you in a comfortable position away from the blood and fluids of birth.

The nurses cut the umbilical cord in front of Michael and wrapped your newborn, crying baby in a towel—wasting no time.

Groaning out in pain and barely able to keep your eyes open, you succumbed to losing consciousness but you did so in your husband’s arms—held and cared for by Michael.

When you awoke, you did so again next to Michael who had waited for you to regain consciousness for two hours—holding your baby son in his arms.

Cleaning up after birth and snuggling up with your baby continuously under care, you felt weakened from your injury and could barely sit up or make any sudden moves which only amplified Michael’s protectiveness over you.

“Oh my God…” You groan softly, writhing against your pillow. “It feels so tender.”

“I know, darling, I know,” Michael gently presses an icepack over your fractured rib, watching for your reactions. “This will ease off some of the pain until the medication begins to take over.”

“How’s the bruising?” You weakly gaze back at Michael. “I can’t even explain to you how sore it feels, baby. Urgh…”

“It’s getting better,” Michael notes, applying a little bit more pressure with the icepack. “You’re recovering, sweetheart, but it’s going to take a lot more time for your rib to heal.”

“Mm…” You nod back at Michael, lacing a hand with his free one. “Rest and lots of rest… Doctor’s orders.”

“Four more weeks,” Michael leans in, planting a soft kiss over your forehead. “I don’t want you to put any sort of stress or strain on your body whatsoever. You’re already recovering from birth.”

“I’m telling you—” You crack a smile, looking up at Michael. “The moment I can move like normal again, I’m gonna run around the entire compound just because I can.”

Michael chuckles quietly, raising your hand up to his lips. “That is your right. I won’t stop you. How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“Very sore and tender all over,” you groan softly. “Like the weight of the world is on my side.”

“Here,” Michael carefully adjusts the pillows underneath you for full support, keeping the icepack pressed to your side. “I want you completely comfortable. I’ll be keeping the ice pack here to rest against your side and prevent against swelling.”

“T-thank you, baby.” You breathe out shakily, “all of this back to back has been a ‘surprise’, hasn’t it?”

Michael shakes his head, “the important thing is that you’re relaxed, comfortable and continue to recover. Everything else can wait for all I care.”

You let go of Michael’s hand, lazily caressing the side of his face. “The last thing I want to do is simply be helpless and lay here—”

“You’re not helpless,” Michael kisses your knuckles, rubbing over the back of your hand. “But I am grateful. You gave birth to our fourth child. The amount of stress and strain over your body must be overwhelming. It wasn’t easy for you and I won’t pretend it was. Not now, and certainly not for the past nine months.”

“You’re a good man, Michael.” You whisper back, unable to hold back your smile. “I love you, baby, but I’m the grateful one here. You’re taking all the time out of your day that you can to take care of me.”

“And I will continue to,” Michael insists, “for however long it takes.” Michael kisses over the back of your hand again and again, keeping his eyes on you. “I love you. I want nothing but the best care for you.”

Extra gentle and caring with you, Michael’s refused to sit at the dining table with everyone only to face your empty seat.

Continuing to go on about his day and leave you alone in bed isn’t an option Michael would ever choose to take.

Resting against his back in the warm bath and letting the water gently soothe and wash over the bruise upon your ribcage, you peek back at your husband whose fingers stroke through your hair lathered in shampoo—refusing to do anything else but take care of you.

After all, you are the woman of Michael’s dreams, the love of his life, his best friend, his wife, and the mother to his now four children. Michael knows you deserve the world and nothing less, and he insistent on giving it to you himself.

[justforbooks]

In 1962, Federico Fellini placed advertisements in Italian newspapers seeking a woman to play the lead character’s mistress in his next film, which would eventually be titled 8½ and released the following year. The successful candidate, he wrote, should be “somewhat old-fashioned … with a pink-and-white complexion and a small pea-hen’s head on a Rubens body, very soft, flowery, maternal and opulent”.

The director auditioned as many as 5,000 applicants. “An interminable procession of ladies who had deserted their worried husbands and children came forward,” reported the writer Angelo Solmi in 1967. It was rumoured that the whole endeavour was merely a publicity stunt and that all along the role had been earmarked for Sandra Milo.

Milo, who has died aged 90, was a vivacious presence marketed as “the Italian Judy Holliday”. She and Fellini had met on a summer evening in the coastal town of Fregene; she happened to be passing a cafe where he was seated with his screenwriter, Ennio Flaiano, who knew Milo and called her over to introduce them.

Fellini was determined to coax Milo out of her unofficial retirement for the role in 8½ of Carla, mistress of the film-maker Guido (Marcello Mastroianni), who installs her in a nearby hotel while he is preparing his science-fiction epic.

When Fellini offered her the part, she reminded him she had quit the business, following savage reviews for her performance as an aristocrat’s daughter in Vanina Vanini (1961).

However the next morning, she was woken at home by the arrival of the director, his cinematographer and assorted technicians and make-up assistants, who had come to shoot a screen test. “They took me and put that famous little hat on my head,” she said, alluding to Carla’s fluffy white ushanka.

She was dressed in a black redingote festooned with violets; all at once, the lights were on her. “My God, what a thrill,” she recalled. “I felt like that was my world, and those were my people. I felt like I was flying.”

She signed the contract, agreeing to gain weight for the role. Shortly afterwards, she fell pregnant, though Fellini kept her chained to the trough all the same. “Every time Federico sees me off the set he tells me to go eat something,” she complained at the time. “I feel like a Strasbourg goose.”

When she finally emerged on set in costume at Cinecittà, Fellini and Mastroianni told her: “Welcome back. You’re home.”

To the ravishing dreamscape of 8½, which won two Oscars and is widely considered Fellini’s masterpiece, she brought an earthy vitality and rambunctiousness, as well as her unassailable beauty.

Fellini cast her again in his first colour film, Juliet of the Spirits (1965), this time in a tripartite role opposite his wife, Giulietta Masina, as the dissatisfied title character. Milo played Suzy, a hedonistic neighbour who hosts orgies, wears feather boas and plunging necklines, and cavorts in a treetop house where a slide connects her bed directly to a swimming pool. Milo is also seen as Iris, a spirit, and Fanny, a circus ingenue.

He sought to cast her a third time in the autobiographical Amarcord (1973), and even shot a screen test with her. But her husband, increasingly jealous of Fellini, forbade her from accepting. Milo’s declinature, the director said, left him with “an air of melancholy”. He told her: “I have something of a feeling we won’t see each other any more.”

In 1982, she published Caro Federico, a thinly veiled account of her time as the director’s lover. Fellini’s biographer John Baxter described it as “largely imagined”, and even Milo admitted eventually that it had been mostly a work of fiction. Fellini claimed never to have read the book. “I don’t even want to smell it,” he said.

Milo was born in Tunis, and moved with her family to Tuscany during her early childhood. At the age of 15, she wed Cesare Rodighiero, but the marriage was annulled after 21 days. She found early work as a model in Milan and began acting after moving to Rome, making her film debut in the comedy The Bachelor (1955).

Roberto Rossellini helped launch her career with General della Rovere (1959), which starred Vittorio de Sica as a Genoese con-man recruited by the Nazis, but Vanina Vanini was a notorious flop.

Fellini films apart, she gave her finest performance in Claude Sautet’s Classes Tous Risques (1960), in which she played an actor who becomes caught up with a gangster on the run. The film got lost in the shuffle at the time of its release, its elegant classicism upstaged by the more radical and irreverent Breathless, which had opened shortly before, though Sautet’s picture is recognised now as an exemplary policier.

Milo gave up acting for a second time in the early 1970s. Despite returning to the screen at the end of that decade, she was known latterly more for her appearances in gossip columns and on television as a presenter, talkshow guest or reality-show participant.

Reflecting on her time as Fellini’s muse, she confessed it had not always been easy. “Sometimes he’d make me feel indispensable, marvellous, as if I were the only woman he’d ever loved. And then he’d treat me like a nothing, a nobody.” She maintained that she loved him “truly, madly, deeply, stupidly”.

She is survived by three children: Debora, from her relationship with Moris Ergas, who produced films of hers including Generale della Rovere and La Visita (1963); Ciro and Azzurra, from her marriage to Ottavio De Lollis; and by a grandson. She was also briefly married to Jorge Ordoñez in 1990. All her marriages ended in divorce.

🔔 Sandra Milo (Salvatrice Elena Greco), actor, born 11 March 1933; died 29 January 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[lomappreciationblog]

Can't Look Back: Quest Discussion (Part 2)

Part 2! This is the meat of the story, where the truth finally gets revealed to us as a player and Mephianse comes face-to-face with the lies he built up for himself regarding Nakratos's fate.

So after Mephianse dashes away and we chase him, this is the next story beat - where we finally meet the "ice witch," Crystalle.

She wastes no time beating around the bush certainly, immediately called out Mephianse for that lol.

Mephianse certainly was slandering Crystalle, but one does still feel some sympathy for him with what happened - which Crystalle finally explains.

First, Crystalle immediately attacks two of the core narratives Mephianse built around losing Nakratos - that Nakratos died, and it was because of Crystalle. But the opposite is true - Nakratos is STILL alive, and Crystalle had nothing to do with what happened.

As she makes it very clear later - she was just a witness, but Mephianse's pov turned her into a villain in the story.

Understandably, Mephianse doesn't respond immediately, which Crystalle takes for disbelief, and she does have the right to feel bitter about this.

And so we finally have the full story - Nakratos turned himself into a snow beast with the intent of forcibly making a Faerie obey his will and let him see his wife again.

It does finally get through to Mephianse that what happened to Nakratos was something he did of his own volition, and that he wasn't a victim - but merely one foolish, desperate man.

There is a certain theme across the three major story arcs, and in this quest, of things happening because of "a truth you refused to hear until now." And so, the characters who actually get over that become better for it.

With the Jumi Arc, Sandra wished to heal Florina, but rather than act out of compassion, she saw the rest of the Jumi as cruel and selfish for being unable to cry, and judged them to a fair sacrifice to heal Florina. Blackpearl experiences disillusion too, when she finally realizes that forcing Pearl to be the new Clarius was not the right answer - when she acknowledges that, she accepts the help of Elazul and the MC and finally fights to change the fate of the Jumi for good.

With the Dragon Arc, Larc knew what he was doing to serve Drakonis was selfish and evil, but he continued doing so because he thought that was the only way he could reunite with Sierra. Sierra initially believed the MC was helping Drakonis with the same evil intent, but she later learns we were only coerced to do so and we join forces to make things right.

Now, for the Star-Crossed Lovers Arc...that is the root of all the trouble - the truth of the matter being, Matilda hated that she was bound and stifled by her duties as a priestess, and what Irwin did, by inspiring her to run away with him, and by stealing her elemental powers, she was freed and she found the will to be her own person. Unfortunately, Escad and initially Daena only thought that this was just Irwin following his demonic heritage and trying to hurt Matilda. And eventually, Irwin too, came to think that he hurt Matilda and he regretted what he did (he also got waaaaaaay lost with the whole "destroying the world that hurt us" plot unfortunately).

I did mention in Part 1 that "Can't Look Back' and the Faerie/Star-Crosser Lovers arc have similar themes, so here's some elaboration on that: in a way, I came to see as "Can't Look Back" being the other outcome of Matilda and Irwin's relationship, had we not stepped in to interfere while things were unfolding.

Nakratos became a beast in hopes of forcing the Faerie to do his will, all because he grieved the loss of his wife to death. He changed himself, becoming strange to the people who knew him, and became a danger to himself and others.

In the Star-Crossed Lovers arc, while Matilda didn't die after Irwin took away her powers, she aged rapidly, becoming an old woman - but one who was content with what happened to her. Irwin however, refused to accept this outcome, and he too, became like a beast - a powerful demon, and unlike Nakratos he retained his cunning, and more importantly, unlike Nakratos, Irwin actually put the Faeries under his command. With that, Irwin sought to destroy the unfair world he perceived had done him and Matilda so much wrong, but underneath all that, they both wanted to love each other, and in their current forms they couldn't do it without hurting each other, or Escad and Daena.

As a last point of comparison, Daena did NOT want to accept Matilda's death. She tried her best to bring Irwin and Matilda together when she finally saw what Irwin was doing, but what she failed to account for was that Matilda becoming Irwin's queen in the Land of Faeries wasn't the right solution either, since that meant the Faeries would be forced to accept a human queen.

But in this quest...Mephianse DOES accept what needs to be done, to free Nakratos.

Mephianse finds he can't keep looking back and deluding himself with thinking Nakratos died by someone else's hand, and to fulfill Nakratos's wish, he had to be put to rest.

Of course, that's not the easiest thing to say...or even worse, to actually do, even if it's a mercy kill.

....well, who else is around and is good with weapons?

That's right, it's time for us MCs to do what we do best!...to be nosey. Not to give mercy kills. Though we sorta do that a bit in LoM.

Will do, Crystalle.

It's worth noting the location for the boss fight is called "The Field of Lost Guilt."

So we go and fight Nakratos, now turned into one of the Du' family of bosses. While LoM has a couple of reused bosses, notoriously with the recolored Jewel Beast boss fights, I do appreciate that while Du'Inke in "The Lost Princess" and Du'Cate in "Huntin' Du'Cate" are recolors of each other, Du'Mere, Nakratos's beast form, has a widely different appearance, whether because it lives in a completely different environment, or because it's a hint it was formerly a human.

....I guess Nakratos did lose his mind, why the heck was Du'Mere just hopping at the final part of this fight.

There is something meaningful in the fact that the loss animation for this boss is turning into an orb that floats upward, which does seem to concretely say Nakratos's spirit has been freed.

And now, back to Mephianse.

...so like...did we commit murder or....

And now, for the screenshots which got me thinking about this quest to close it off:

That's probably the understatement of the century.

Crystalle does sound a bit too trolling considering Mephianse just went through the emotional wringer, but I guess she has a pass for poking fun at Mephianse after all the slander he did.

.....annnd I reached the photo limit for this post, so there's a part 3. But it's gonna be short, just the L'il Cactus diary entry, reaction, and pause menu description. No more mega rambling, hopefully!

[which-hospital]

Earlier I was thinking about Sandra to distract from being sad about Teddy but then I rewatched her and Andy’s scenes from the Shades of Love/Cry for Help/Anaconda/Lifelines set of episodes and now I’m sad about her too.

They foreshadowed her death the episode before, they bring in a young woman who dies (killed by her boyfriend's wife) and she gets very stuck on it and tells Andy that she's wondering whether she'd leave behind anything worth remembering about her. Cry for Help says that 'yes, there are things worth remembering about Sandra Mute' but Anaconda and Lifelines follow that with 'it's easier for the people who knew her to keep going if they choose not to remember'. People are already moving on in Anaconda. By the goodbye party for Andy at the end of Lifelines, she's been forgotten.

The main person who remembers her in those episodes is Andy but she's remembered in faceless young women he doesn't have it in him to treat because they all look like Sandra to him. Even he's moving on, he just has to choose to, while everyone else seems to be able to do it naturally. He chooses to leave the job, he chooses to try and fix things with his wife again. There's a really sad moment after her memorial where he just stands outside the church, looking at the ambulance station while all the other paramedics go back to work.

Another moment that got me after the memorial is when Duffy asks Susie to go shopping to cheer them up - Sandra had been their friend and now they will have to get on with the rest of their lives and she can't.

When people do remember her so much of it is about her relationship with Andy, which she had finally decided she didn't want anymore right before she was stabbed :( At the same time, I can't stop thinking about how the first thing we ever see Andy say to his wife is "darling" and then, for the first and only time, he also says it to Sandra while they're bringing her into the hospital (but she's already unconscious by then).

Sandra had to die, not even because the plot demanded it, just... Casualty required it to keep things moving. I don't think it's entirely her death that allowed Casualty to last longer than two series, the writing did start to get better around when she died and that's definitely the main thing that kept it going. But her death was a sign of that good writing - Cry for Help's Sandra/Andy scenes are entirely brilliant, 'Casualty at it's best' scenes. She had to die, but it's still so sad to me how quickly she disappeared.

Ugh, Casualty, stop making me miserable with your paramedics.

[solarishashernoseinabook]

For the trick or treat, could I get a Arald/Duncan? As a trick, please.

Here ya go :D

~

When Arald inherited his father’s position as Baron of Redmont, King Oswald came to personally offer his condolences for his father’s death. Redmont being so important to the kingdom meant Oswald had worked closely with Arald’s father Wellaby, and he said he looked forward to working with Arald in the future. Arald didn’t remember what he had said – empty platitudes, probably. Oswald had brought his son Prince Duncan along with him, and all of a sudden Arald’s plans of settling down with a nice young woman were dashed to pieces. He only tried to bring up his feelings once, when he and Duncan found themselves sharing a tent on campaign. In a low, hesitant voice, he asked if Duncan had ever felt any attraction to men.

There had been a few agonising moments of silence; then Duncan had laughed. Arald had forced a laugh as well, and they spoke no more about it. A few months later Arald proposed to young Lady Sandra de Claire, who accepted instantly, and they managed to live comfortably enough, even if Sandra had to acknowledge that she was not the only object of Arald’s affections. Arald, too, made peace with his feelings, or thought he had, and regarded Duncan as a good friend.

Months later, that friendship was tested when whispered rumours said Duncan had tried to poison King Oswald. Arald refused to believe it. Duncan was a good person, not power-hungry enough to kill his father. But then Duncan seemingly disappeared after a trip to Gorlan, and a few weeks later news came that he was fighting and raiding near the Pictish border. Arald was sure it was a mistake, but the news kept coming, and Arald was too busy running Redmont to track him down and find out the truth for himself. Soon, it became impossible to deny that Duncan was up to something. Arald tried to harden his heart towards Duncan, tried to tell himself he had been wrong about the prince, but it wasn’t that easy. Sandra spent many long nights comforting him as he cried over the betrayal.

And then the most wonderful news came – Duncan hadn’t been raiding at all, but imprisoned, and an impostor had been raiding instead. Arald leapt at the chance to save the prince and expose Lord Morgarath for the duplicitous traitor that he was.

He saw Duncan at the tournament at Gorlan. The change in him was shocking. No longer was Duncan neatly groomed and well-dressed – now his hair and bear were overly long, his clothing old and dirty, and he had a wild, restless look in his eyes.

It was quite dashing, if Arald was being perfectly honest. When Duncan fought a pitched sword battle with Morgarath on the last day of the tournament, all of Arald’s carefully-buried feelings came rushing back to him.

But nothing could come of them – that Arald knew. A year after the tournament, Arald stood arm-in-arm with Sandra at Duncan’s wedding. Lady Rosalind Serenne was a lovely bride, and Duncan a stunning groom. Seeing the prince there, so close yet so far, brought a lump to Arald’s throat that had nothing to do with the festivities. He had to excuse himself early, taking a few moments alone to recover.

He saw Duncan between then and the wedding, of course, but the next time they spent any significant amount of time together was nearly a year later. Queen Rosalind had gone to Woldon Abbey in the hopes that the sisters could keep her healthy through the last months of her pregnancy, and with Morgarath preparing to attack at any time, Duncan’s army was camped out on the grounds in front of Castle Araluen, ready to move out as soon as it was clear Morgarath would attack in earnest. The fear for his wife and child weighed heavily on Duncan, visible in the lines on his face and the set of his shoulders, and Arald felt keenly for him. But Duncan didn’t talk about it, and Arald didn’t press.

Until one day, when Crowley came back from Woldon Abbey with a newborn baby girl – and no mother in sight.

That night, lying awake, Arald heard the canvas door of his tent draw back and looked up to see Duncan’s tall frame outlined by moonlight. Arald fumbled with his flint and steel and lit the candle beside his cot. In the dim light, Duncan was a changed man. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face tear-stained. ‘She’s gone,’ he choked.

‘I know,’ Arald whispered. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’

Arald wasn’t sure what happened next. All he knew was that Duncan was on the cot next to him, and they were in each other’s arms, and Duncan was sobbing, and Arald was comforting him as best he could. All the while Arald felt like he was drowning in a sea of emotion, but he couldn’t say anything, not with Duncan as he was.

‘You asked me something, years ago,’ Duncan said. ‘You asked if I’d ever been attracted to men.’

Arald swallowed hard past a lump in his throat. ‘I did.’

‘The truth is…’ Duncan sobbed. ‘The truth is…sometimes I have.’

Arald shook his head. Not now, any time but now. ‘Duncan, please—’

Duncan kissed him, grabbing at his clothes, and it took some effort for Arald to push him back. ‘Stop.’

‘I need to forget,’ Duncan said. ‘I need to stop feeling things tonight.’

‘It won’t help, not in the state you’re in,’ Arald said. ‘But if you must, find someone else.’

‘I don’t want to find someone else!’ Duncan said. ‘You asked me!’

‘And since then,’ Arald said, forcing his voice to remain level, ‘I’ve committed myself to Sandra. As you committed yourself to Queen Rosalind.’

Duncan sobbed, and lowered his head to Arald’s shoulder. Arald hugged him close, and together the two men wept: one for what he had lost, the other for what he could never have.

[weclassybouquetfun]

The Oscars were announced today and while there is plenty that I am happy about disappointment still abounds. No love for SALTBURN. I knew Best Actor was crowded and Barry Keoghan may not get in,

AMPAS how can you deny him?

but I was sure of a Rosamund Pike nomination. Was holding out hope for a Dominic Sessa, or even unlikelier a Milo Machado Graner nomination for their respective works in THE HOLDOVERS and ANATOMY OF A FALL.

And while not personally disappointed (more disappointed by her BABYLON snub), very surprised that Margot Robbie didn't secure a nomination for BARBIE yet America Ferrera did.

Ryan Gosling speaks on Margot and Greta Gerwig's omission.

Not surprised by Andrew Scott not getting a nod - he didn't even get one from the BAFTAs - I just think there wasn't enough meat on the bones for that role.

Not surprised by Leonardo DiCaprio not securing a nomination as he's been pretty much absent from these conversations. What bothers me is that everyone I talk to about KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON pan his character, but not his performance. They hate that his character is stupid. They don't even touch on he's a bad person for poisoning his wife; no. It's his stupidity. So they hate that weakness in him and it blinds them to Leo's performance. Even director Paul Schrader whinged about how stupid the character was and Leo should have played the role originally offered to him; the FBI agent played by Jesse Plemons.

I love comparing who were being pushed to who actually got the big nomination.

Sorry Andrew, Greta, Julianne, Margot, Eve and Fantasia.

The Nominees.

Best Picture American Fiction Anatomy of a Fall Barbie The Holdovers Killers of the Flower Moon  Maestro Oppenheimer Past Lives  Poor Things

*I only just found out Ramy Yousef, Willem Dafoe and Mark Ruffalo are in this poster.

The Zone of Interest

Best Director Justine Treit (Anatomy of a Fall) Martin Scorsese (Killers of the Flower Moon) Christopher Nolan (Oppenheimer) Yorgos Lanthimos (Poor Things) Jonathan Glazer (The Zone of Interest)

Best Actor in a Leading Role Bradley Cooper (Maestro)

Colman Domingo (Rustin) Paul Giamatti (The Holdovers) Cillian Murphy (Oppenheimer) - when asked what he would eat as the Oscars do not serve food, he said he will bring a piece of his mam's sponge cake snuck in his wife's purse.

Jeffrey Wright (American Fiction)

More Nominations and Oscar Nom Talks

Thrilled for Bradley Cooper as a lot of people were turning on him because they viewed him as a award desperate try-hard. But he really just cares so much about this role. He screened A STAR IS BORN for Steven Spielberg and when the "Shallow" scene came on Spielberg got up and whispered in his ear, "You are fcking directing MAESTRO". When you are given given that must trust by arguably one of the greatest filmmakers ever, of course you're going to be extra to the nth degree.

Not sold on Cillian Murphy's performance in OPPENHEIMER. It did nothing for me, but I'm happy he has had this award season experience. He stays outside of actors' circle and - based on absolutely no proof- I just think he probably felt it al superficial, but when he won his Globe and thanked his fellow actors I can tell he was sincere. I think coming together with his peers in a real way; not just mingling at parties, but by being in spaces where they discuss their craft and inspirations let him recognize that no matter how big the name, these are his tribe and they see the art and value of what they do. Awards season friendships are cool to see. I didn't see one this season but Bradley Cooper said he and Colman Domingo have become buddies this season after doing a photoshoot together.

Best Actress in a Leading Role Annette Bening (Nyad)

Lily Gladstone (Killers of the Flower Moon) Sandra Hüller (Anatomy of a Fall) Carey Mulligan (Maestro) Emma Stone (Poor Things)

*Minus Sandra Hüller this is pretty much how I viewed how this category would shape up. Very funny to me that when POOR THINGS started screenings critics swore up and down it was an embarrassment to Emma Stone's talent and she would get nothing.

Best Actor in a Supporting Role Sterling K. Brown (American Fiction) Robert De Niro (Killers of the Flower Moon) Robert Downey Jr. (Oppenheimer) Ryan Gosling (Barbie) Mark Ruffalo (Poor Things)

*I honestly felt that Sterling K. Brown could be the upset and I was so happy to be right. His performance in AMERICAN FICTION is a breath of fresh air. I honestly wanted more of his character.

What I like about his Mark Ruffalo's nominations are that they both didn't think these roles would lead to this.

Brown said his publicist kept pushing him for interviews and panels this season and he couldn't understand why as he thought it was such a small role and he was just satisfied with being in the film, but his publicist saw the reactions to Brown's character and knew it was awards worthy.

Ruffalo said he didn't think he could do his POOR THINGS role because he's been so pigeon-holed and was accustomed to playing roles that were the anti-thesis of Duncan that he wasn't sure he could find him. Having people trust in you when even you yourself don't have that trust, or trying even while in doubt of yourself is beautiful.

Best Actress in a Supporting Role Emily Blunt (Oppenheimer)

Danielle Brooks (The Color Purple)

America Ferrera (Barbie) Jodie Foster (Nyad) Da’Vine Joy Randolph (The Holdovers)

*America Ferrera should be nowhere in this category. It should be Rosamund Pike 1000%. So happy that Danielle Brooks and Da'Vine Joy Randolph were both nominated as I was afraid the voters would only pick one over the other. Kinda surprised by Jodie Foster, but hers was a nomination I was really hoping for.

Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay) American Fiction Barbie Oppenheimer Poor Things The Zone of Interest 

Best Writing (Original Screenplay) Anatomy of a Fall 

The Holdovers May December Past Lives Maestro

Best Animated Feature The Boy and the Heron  Elemental  Nimona  Robot Dreams Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse 

Best Documentary Feature Film Bobi Wine: The People’s President The Eternal Memory Four Daughters 20 Days in Mariupol  To Kill a Tiger

*I forget the film but last year Dev Patel threw his support behind an International Documentary. He wasn't involved in it, but he did Zoom Q&As promoting it. This year he backed TO KILL A TIGER, going further this time to become an executive producer on it. This is the way to use your profile - uplifting other artists whose projects don't have the reach.

Best Cinematography Killers of the Flower Moon Maestro Oppenheimer Poor Things El Conde *Would much rather SALTBURN be in this category, but very happy for EL CONDE to be recognized.

Best Costume Design Barbie Killers of the Flower Moon Napoleon Oppenheimer Poor Things 

Best Makeup and Hairstyling Golda  Oppenheimer  Poor Things  Society of the Snow Maestro *Gotta go to makeup maestro Kazu Hiro.

Best Animated Short Film Letter to a Pig Ninety-Five Senses Our Uniform Pachyderme War Is Over! Inspired by the Music of John & Yoko

Best Live-Action Short Film The After Invincible Knight of Fortune Red, White and Blue The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar

*I'm 100% behind THE WONDERFUL STORY OF HENRY SUGAR, though I preferred the short within the quandrant of films THE SWAN starring Rupert Friend. As long as the shallow Pedro Almodóvar short STRANGE WAY OF LIFE wasn't nominated, I'm good.

Best Original Song “The Fire Inside” (Flamin’ Hot) “I’m Just Ken” (Barbie) “It Never Went Away” (American Symphony) “Wahzhazhe (A Song For My People)” (Killers of the Flower Moon) “What Was I Made For?” (Barbie)

*Was really rooting for one John Carney's two songs from FLORA & SON to get a nod. He's been twice nominated (winning one) for Best Song, but since not gaining a nod for SING STREET (a robbery!), he just haven't been able to gain ground.

Best Original Score American Fiction Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny Killers of the Flower Moon Oppenheimer Poor Things

*Should have been a space for Anthony Willis who did the score for SALTBURN but everyone has to kiss John Williams' ring and Robbie Robertson passed away so they have to recognize him. Though, if pushed came to shove, I preferred Robertson's score over Williams'.

Best Documentary Short Film The ABCs of Book Banning The Barber of Little Rock Island in Between The Last Repair Shop Nǎi Nai & Wài Pó

Best International Feature Film Io Capitano (Italy) Perfect Days (Japan) Society of the Snow (Spain)

The Teacher’s Lounge (Germany) The Zone of Interest (United Kingdom)

*Haven't been able to see THE ZONE OF INTEREST because A24 kept bollocksing up their screenings (same with THE IRON CLAW), but I hear it's great. I'm 1000% behind SOCIETY OF THE SNOW. I really hoped that JA Bayona was able to break out and make it into the Best Director category, but sadly, it didn't happen,

Best Production Design Barbie Killers of the Flower Moon Napoleon Oppenheimer Poor Things

Best Film Editing Anatomy of a Fall The Holdovers Killers of the Flower Moon Oppenheimer Poor Things

*Again, another category SALTBURN should have been nominated in.

Best Production Design Barbie Killers of the Flower Moon Napoleon Oppenheimer Poor Things

Best Sound The Creator Maestro Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One Oppenheimer The Zone of Interest

Best Visual Effects The Creator Godzilla: Minus One Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 Mission: Impossible — Dead Reckoning, Part One Napoleon