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oscarisaacasimov · 1 day

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"Why Would You Be Loved" by Hozier

Verse 1 It's only said to be kind the time that you have with love You're never told but you're loaned it It's a lie, the high that you have with love It feels like gold when you hold it And know it's sweet, to know it when it's gone, baby, So why, why, why

In Hozier’s self-titled first album, love could be a deliverance from the problems of the world (i.e., Take me to Church, Jackie & Wilson, To Be Alone, Work Song).

This latest release “from the vault” fits thematically into Wasteland Baby, where love is yet another complication in chaotic world (i.e. Shrike, Talk, Would That I, Sunlight).

Chorus Why would you be lovin' Why would you be lovin' Why would you be lovin', hey And, hey, why would you be loved Mm, hey, why would you be loved

Hozier repeats this existential question over and over – love is not permanent, or a safe haven, it ends up hurting us, so why do we keep doing it? Why bother to give and receive love?

A few years later, On Unreal Unearth, Hozier resolves his own question with All Things End. Despair and bewilderment at the inevitable end of love has turned into “nihilistic optimism.”

Just knowing That everything will end Should not change our plans When we begin again

Verse 2 Now the world falls apart it starts with their actin' up I wouldn't say it, but I blame them The bleedin' hearts, the arts & that other stuff All the same motivations will melt away Like snowflakes on a tongue, baby So why, why, why

Besides the struggle with romantic love, the other major theme of Wasteland Baby is the ominous dread of apocalypse approaching, and the need to rise up politically against the dangers of the ruling class.

“Bleeding hearts” and “snowflakes” are doing double duty here, as terms for the tenderness and fragility of romantic love but also as derogatory terms for those with leftist or progressive politics.

“The word falls apart, it starts with their actin up, I wouldn’t say it but I blame them.”

I can see several possible interpretations for this opening line of verse 2, and who is the “they” acting up:

It feels like the world falls apart when your relationship ends, and you know the end is near once “actin up” or more conflicts/annoyances begin between the two.

Hozier “blames them,” all the older musicians whose work he listened to in youth, that love is not as “the arts” promised. Now in heartbreak again, he feels unprepared or misled on the true nature of love (and maybe realizes that his work too has contributed to the cultural myth of “love conquers all.”)

Hozier may feel frustrated that artists can describe the world so well, but all their efforts and talent are just "other stuff" and cannot directly change or fix anything.

“They” are the ruling class, and the world is literally falling apart on their watch. “I blame them” for keeping the people fixated on finding perfect romantic love, instead of noticing injustices that we are all harmed by, coming together in larger communities for mutual care or political action. (This final theory may sound a bit tinfoily, but Hozier has politics side by side with love throughout so many songs in Wasteland Baby, it seems hardly a stretch. Look what’s coming in verse 3!)

Bridge Why would you play it all on somethin' as hollow as trust? What if you gave it all, to find that it wasn't enough? What if under the gaze of all, you come short when the going gets rough?

Hozier reveals a worse fear than his lover not caring enough, what if his own best isn’t good enough to keep the relationship going? The “gaze of all” may be a nod to his fame, which came from writing romantic love songs, and is sustained by fans, some of whom openly imagine that he must be the perfect boyfriend.

Bad enough for anyone to come up short in love, but for “Hozier” to fail in this way might be an extra mind-fuck or identity crisis for him.

This tension seems to be resolved in “Too Sweet” where Hozier admits that his career & lifestyle might make him incompatible with some romantic partners, but he loves his life and is content to go their separate ways.

Verse 3 They look for somethin' to be done for those that are most in pain What about me and my achin'? The scales rehung, the breakin' of yoke and chain What about me and my breakin'? And if you ain't for all, how could you try at all, baby? So why, why, why

I can hear the back and forth internal dialogue between two attitudes in the same mind, and boy do I relate to this exact exchange.

Part of Hozier wants to protest for justice and freedom, in the spirit of Nina Cried Power, Jackboot Jump, Be, and even Moment’s Silence. While another part of him is in so much pain that he wants to be cared for and not take on the burden of others pain. Heartbreak and the world hurtling toward destruction both feel like impossible struggles to solve.

[Tangent for Enneagram folks – Hozier is likely a type 4, which is described as romantic, creative, gentle, prone to sadness, high emotional intelligence. Type 4s have a “growth direction” of Type 1, which is described as hard-working, disciplined, devoted to their ideals, and concerned about justice in society. I hear this verse as some push and pull between the Enneagram 1 part that wants to save the world, and the Enneagram 4 that wants to languish in sadness until they feel healed.]

Other Wasteland Baby songs that pair the ruin & hope of love with the ruin & hope of apocalypse include:

Be Be love in its disrepute (lover, be good to me) Scorches the hillside and salts every root (lover, be good to me) And watches the slowin' and starvin' of troops And, lover, be good to me (lover be good to me) Be there and just as you stand (lover, be good to me) Or be like the rose that you hold in your hand (lover, be good to me) That grow bold in a barren and desolate land And lover be good to me

Wasteland Baby And the day that we'll watch the death of the sun That the cloud & the cold and those jeans you have on Then you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs Wasteland, baby I'm in love I'm in love with you

NFWMB Ain't it a gentle sound, the rollin' in the graves? … Ain't it warming you, the world gone up in flames? … Ain't you my baby? ain't you my babe?

#hozier #wasteland baby #why would you be loved

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twh-news · 8 months

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‘Loki’ Puts Plot Over People in a Less Focused Season 2: TV Review

Time travel is impossible in real life, but it’s also pretty difficult to pull off in fiction, where a nifty plot device can too easily devolve into a tangled nest of convoluted exposition. The first season of “Loki” avoided this problem, making the Disney+ show a bright spot in a somewhat stagnant era of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. In following a “variant” of the Norse trickster god into the depths of the Time Variance Authority, or TVA, the series paired impeccable production design with a simple emotional narrative — especially once our primary Loki (Tom Hiddleston) met his match in his female counterpart Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino), a relationship that opened questions of identity, free will and self-determination. Tracking the potential branches of the so-called Sacred Timeline could make your head spin. Like a Zen koan, “What makes a Loki a Loki?” is grounding and easy to grasp.

In the final moments of its first season, “Loki” revealed it would become the first Marvel Studios show for Disney+ to have a second season. This news came as a relief, given its cliffhanger ending; after Loki and Sylvie traveled to the end of time, Sylvie killed He Who Remains (Jonthan Majors), the founder of the TVA and the primary obstacle keeping the Sacred Timeline from becoming a full-fledged multiverse. When Loki, having tried to stop her, returned alone to the TVA, he found an office transformed, with statues of He Who Remains looming everywhere and employees like Agent Mobius (Owen Wilson) having no memory of their quarry-turned-collaborator.

[Spoilers ahead]

Two years later, “Loki” is back, and not a moment too soon. Though the show started the MCU’s Multiverse Saga on a high note, the franchise’s latest phase has since run into trouble onscreen and off. “Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania” was a critical and commercial disappointment that failed to build on the goodwill generated by “Loki,” despite using some of the same concepts and characters. Meanwhile, Majors is facing trial for charges of assault and aggravated harassment against his former girlfriend, throwing Marvel’s plan to make his character the next Thanos-style archvillain into question. (Not that blockbuster business planning should be anyone’s main concern when it comes to allegations of domestic violence, but with this much money on the line, it is a concern to some.)

Such circumstances place a great deal of pressure and scrutiny on “Loki” Season 2, which has also seen some personnel shuffles behind the scenes. (Eric Martin takes over head writing duties from creator Michael Waldron, while sole director Kate Herron has passed the baton to a larger group led by collaborators Justin Benson and Aaron Morehead.) But while “Loki” remains a cut above other MCU shows, second only to “WandaVision,” Season 2 succumbs to the same traps the original story so cleverly avoided.

While the first episodes of “Loki” used its namesake as an audience surrogate, gradually laying out the purpose, customs and bylaws of the TVA, Season 2 begins in media res. Right away, Loki is tasked with finding Sylvie, figuring out why he’s hopscotching through time and navigating the chaos of a TVA workforce that’s just discovered all memory-wiped variants from “severed” — or less euphemistically, eliminated — timelines. It’s a lot, perhaps too much, for both Loki and the viewer to process, especially since the story feels increasingly unmoored from Loki’s own journey of (literal) self-discovery.

Instead, the season introduces new MacGuffins like the Temporal Loom and characters like Ourobouros (Ke Huy Quan), a kind of cosmic IT guy tasked with keeping TVA equipment in shape. There’s frantic motion and momentum, but not as much of a sense of who wants what, and why, when it comes to complicated questions of personal autonomy versus the collective good. In fact, one gets the sense that “Loki” maintains the breakneck speed precisely so it doesn’t have to slow down and root the action in its characters’ wants and needs. Online explainers will surely lay out the logistics in exhaustive detail, but they can’t create the sense of emotional urgency the season palpably lacks.

At least there are the performances, delivered by an ensemble within the MCU’s mega-ensemble that remains one of its best. On an extended victory lap after his Oscar win for “Everything Everywhere All at Once,” Quan brings an antic energy to Ourobouros, or OB, that complements the wacky hijinks he’s asked to facilitate. Rafael Casal is less well-served as a TVA employee who’s barely introduced before becoming a fugitive we’re told is crucial to the plot, though through no fault of his own. And when taken on its own terms, Majors’ work as He Who Remains in his various incarnations is an idiosyncratic and strangely magnetic break from Marvel house style — though whether it should be considered separately from his off-set behavior is another question entirely.

The playful, inventive visuals also continue to give “Loki” an added edge, from the crammed gadgetry of OB’s workshop to a quick detour in 1970s London to an entire episode set in 19th century Chicago. But where everything from the set design of the TVA to its complicated cosmology once felt in service to Loki’s burgeoning ability to feel camaraderie and love, the hierarchy now feels reversed. Even though, via spoiler-y means, Loki and Mobius do get to resume their buddy routine, there’s less space for either their friendship or Loki’s bond with Sylvie when everyone is racing around for unclear reasons. “Loki” is still a good time, but despite the renewal, it may not have been built for a long one.

#loki #loki series #loki season 2 #review #Variety #tom hiddleston #article #loki spoilers #spoilers #spoiler

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iamanonniemouse · 4 months

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End of Year Book Asks

Okay, @vector-to-the-heavens, to add insult to injury, after I drafted a reply to your ask, and then tumblr wouldn't let me edit my draft but instead queued my incomplete draft, and then forced me to delete the queued post -- THEN it ERASED your ask!!!

the good news is I screenshotted my drafted reply so ALL IS NOT LOST no thanks to tumblr though

Seriously vec why does tumblr hate our friendship so much????

Anyway, you asked for 3, 11, and 16 from this list of books asks!

Putting this under a cut now cuz my ranting took up most of the post lol

3. What were your top five books of the year?

Oh man. VEC. HOW. WHY. God. Lemme see :pulls up list of the 265 books I read in 2023:

Okay, in no particular order:

Babel, by R.F. Kuang Incredible, mind-blowing, heart-breaking, just :flails: The magic in this world is fascinating in its own right but then Kuang turned it into such a pointed look at the results of colonization and how important language is to culture and identity andandand--

American Eden, by Victoria Johnson My friends know I have gotten into an absolute obsession with reading nature-related books, from the history of natural science to biographies about famous nature people to plain old books about birds and bees (literally. really.) This book is one of my favorites, it's the biography of a man who was a ground-breaking surgeon in America after the American Revolution -- who also was a huge botanist and created America's first botanical garden. (He was also the Hamilton's family doctor and was The Doctor present at the Burr-Hamilton duel.) I adored this book on so many levels, truly. It was just incredible to read.

The Scholomance Trilogy, by Naomi Novik (ssh I can absolutely count a trilogy as one book)@silverbrume has been singing this series' praises to me for AGES and I finally read it this year and WOW. It's just so good! Love the world, love the characters, love the found family, lovelovelove that it's a well paced and well tied-together trilogy where things from the first book that seemed like minor mentions turned into major plot points by book three. Just incredible and lovely and I already want to reread it.

The Seed Keeper, by Diana Wilson Really beautiful writing and so delicately handled. Speaks to so much about what America has done to the Native American peoples in terms of cutting off entire generations from their heritage with the boarding schools, and how difficult it is for someone to find their way back home when they feel so separated from it. I'm summarizing this one so bad, but just. Trust me. This book is incredible and you all should read it. I've got my MOM reading it, and she is awful about finishing books, but she is like...80% of the way through it and just keeps telling me how good it is.

Cherryvine, by Marina Vivancos Hey look since I've been reading majority MM romance I need to have at least ONE on here okay?? But more seriously, Vivancos is a phenomenal writer and almost always has stories that involve healing from past trauma/abuse. And what I love about her writing is how much she focuses on the healing process itself, and how gentle it always is. I could write you a laundry list of all the Vivancos books you should read, but that's for another post probably. This one is just beautiful though, really beautiful.

Honorable mention to The Cider House Rules, by John Irving, which honestly should be on this list but since I raved about it in my other ask response it felt like cheating to put it here again. But lemme just say -- JOHN IRVING MY BELOVED.

11. What was your favorite book that has been out for a while, but you just now read?

I answered 11 in this one but I'm going to cheat and answer again because I also read Pride and Prjudice this year and omg it was ADORABLE. I was over the moon with how much I enjoyed it. I am shamelessly obsessed with the 2005 movie (Matthew McFadyen as Darcy my beloved) and I was tickled with how many lines from the book were in the movie! Anyway, 10/10 highly recommend, it was just FABULOUS.

16. What is the most over-hyped book you read this year?

Okay, not necessarily over-hyped but I read More Than This, by Patrick Ness. As backstory, I read A Monster Calls years ago and omg. Talk about an incredible book. One of my all-time faves, forever on a recommendation list, just. Really good. And I never read anything else he wrote haha. But I heard a lot about More Than This, so I grabbed it from the library, and it was really intriguing at first. It seemed like some interesting, mind-twisty kind of story, like an inception limbo fic almost. I really really intrigued and I loved it. And then the last third of it just went....totally off the rails. Like what the FUCK. It was wild and whacky and also just so extremely violent??? In the final fight?? Like, in a way that was jarring because everything to that point had been suspenseful and tense but not gory. Anyway, yeah I was very disappointed in that.

#mousie rambles #omg i get asks now #ask thingy #vector to the heavens #books #mousie talks books #look vec i finally got this posted!!!

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sidleyparkhermit · 4 months

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@stellerssong I think I should do these separately since the first one is already getting long and is basically just complaining. XD

8. Is there a story idea in your mental vault that you’ve never been brave enough to try writing? Is this the year? Can you tell us about it?

Hmm. In terms of fanfic and not origfic — the only story ideas I can think of that I would say I didn’t feel “brave” enough to write are certain MCU plotbunnies that I found personally compelling but that would have no audience and cause me to get lots of hate messages from MCU Leftists.

I’m thinking specifically of two that sprang from my mind trying to somehow approach the very conspicuous and poisonously incoherent politics of TFATWS, and three years down the line I can still remember a quick plot capsule for both.

(Even the summaries are probably incomprehensible, as the Venn diagram of people who have some fucking idea how a government on planet Earth actually in any way works and people who watched The Falcon and the Winter Soldier all the way to the end is maybe just me. But, you know. The action sequences were super good and I really wanted to see if Bucky was gonna be okay. [Spoiler: Bucky is okay.])

Bucky’s long-suffering therapist Dr. Raynor, who is also a military veteran, slowly unravels the truth behind the character that is, I swear to god, named “Government Official” and appears to be a U.S. senator, a representative to the Fake UN That Is Also The One-World Fascist Government, the head of the CIA, the head of the Smithsonian Institution, and who knows what else. (He's also the guy that Sam Wilson literally says the sentence "You control the banks" to while lecturing him not to refer to the people trying to kill all the civilians at the UN as "terrorists.") Anyway, my explanation for him is that during The Snap, a faction of Hydra used the mass breakdown in communications to establish little pockets of shadow-government, aided by specialists like Government Official who have a mild level of genetic mind-control powers that helps induce people to accept “ah yes, that is a Government Official” and just kinda do what they say. Post-Blip, they continue to be treated like they have the authority that they usurped, even though it makes no sense; as Robert Anton Wilson said, reality is what you can get away with. But with a tip-off from Bucky in his goodbye card, Dr. Raynor begins to see through the fog...

John Walker, in his final confrontation with Flag-Smasher, gets ahold of himself enough to really listen to what she is saying for a moment, and then starts asking her to explain what the fuck she is actually talking about, seeing as she seems to think, among other things, that the Not-UN vaccine distribution program that she’s been bombing is run by “the corporations.” As he listens to everything bounce off her incomprehensible ideology, two things happen: 1) He starts to realize this terrorist leader is like 17 years old and 2) the actual combat is stalled long enough for Spider-Man to show up and web everyone and save the day. Spider-Man hauls John away and webs him to a rooftop someplace, where he has an imagined talk with the memory of Lemar Hoskins, who helps him ponder how and why this random teenage terrorist got all the power she has access to, leading him to have a lightbulb moment about the Power Broker's identity. (Don't get me started about the Power Broker's identity, but it's canon, so I'd make use of it as best I could.)

I guess really those kinds of ideas aren't so much a matter of "not brave enough to write" as "not masochistic enough to bother." But the fic ideas I have that are in the "artistically ambitious" vein of bravery are all things that I've actually written a ton of material for. It's the finishing that gets to me.

#obviously I am not tagging this.#but now I've got those plot summaries off my chest so it turns out this *was* the year. I'm free they can't bother me anymore

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inxspacetime · 1 year

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Character Verse … Ty Harris.

Tyler was misunderstood, but rarely did he ever give anyone the chance to understand him. He was an asset to his father, invisible to his mother, and an obstacle to nearly anyone who crossed his path. His attitude was garbage, his words were venomous, and his personal stash would put some of the best local dealers to shame. He was popular, and while none of it was for the right reason, that didn’t matter.

Most would think a serial killer on the loose wouldn’t have an affect on such a person. And at first, it really didn’t - but that was the start of his downfall. Some called him cold, others called him a killer, even as the target on his own back seemed to grow bigger and bigger. Between the literal death surrounding him, along with his popularity, it was a pretty isolating time for some who already felt alone.

He did manage to survive the encounters, narrowly. Others, people he knew, his father (in some threads), weren’t so lucky. And Ty didn’t take that lightly, he felt that weight everyday. He tried not to, usually the help of a medication but even then he had the scars to forever remind him.

YOUNGER TY:

It’s been months, maybe a year since the attacks were finally put to an end. He’s been trying to shake the paranoia off, but it’s not easy when his habit is the worst it’s ever been. He keeps his connections to a minimum, trusts who he knows he can trust and disregards the rest almost completely. He still hasn’t quite shaken his attitude off, but he’s not quite as harsh as before. Fred Hechinger and Dylan O’Brien are available faceclaims. Can also take place during the murders.

OLDER TY:

But he doesn’t allow what happened dictate the rest of his life. After a particularly low point in his life, he sobered up (for the most part) and decided to try and actually do something with his life. He opened a business (either a shooting range or a dispensary) with some of his dad’s money and did his very best to fade into normalcy. But the stares are impossible to miss when they do persist, and there was always the thought of a new (or not-so-new) threat creeping over his shoulder lurking in the back of his mind… Patrick Wilson is the current faceclaim for this verse.

✮ I tried to keep his lore as far as the identity of the killer/confirmed victims as unspecific as possible In order to help him mesh easier into pre-established franchises. Further details could be expanded on as we plot.

#tyler harris — ✧ aesthetic ✧#verse; ✽ i really need to stop smoking weed before class #inspired by a couple different things but also pretty much him if he were thrown into a horror movie #ｇｈｏｓｔｂｌｏｇｇｉｎｇ（ｑｕｅｕｅ）

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ao3feed-lokitony · 2 years

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When When He Loves Me I Feel Like I'm Floating And When He Calls Me "Pretty", I Feel Like Somebody

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Xxqafum

by GhostPrince_B00

Having befriended Loki, Wade Wilson is told that he's going to be introduced to her son after being show a phot o f him by the goddess herself. She had told him three things; that her son was easy to fluster, that he was gorgeous and that he would get on well with Wade. Everyone working with the Avengers and living in the Tower, whether an Avenger or not has to have a roommate, which is why the lady of mischief made her son Wade's roommate, which is what her husband finds out out. Wade is honestly blown away by the spider when he finally meets him, immediately falling head over katanas for the brunet, not caring about Tony's hatred of him as he flirts with Peter, hoping it would come to something. When Peter uses the flirting techniqures he was taught by both Loki and Tony as a teenager, Wade doesn't so much as stand a chance and all the mercenary can do is fall into the spider's well weaved webs.

Words: 4489, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 7 of Deadpool Loves His Spidery-Sweetheart And It's Very Requited

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Deadpool - All Media Types

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, M/M, Other

Characters: Peter Parker, Wade Wilson, Loki (Marvel), Tony Stark

Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson

Additional Tags: Eventual Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Peter Parker and Wade Wilson First Meet, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Married Tony Stark/Loki, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Top Tony Stark, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Bottom Peter Parker/Top Wade Wilson, Roommates, The Avengers Tower Has A Roommates System, Tony Stark Hates Wade Wilson, Loki Does What Loki Wants (Marvel), Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parke ris Loki's Biological Child, flirty peter parker, Flirty Wade Wilson, Wade Wilson is a Tease, Flirting, Flustered Peter Parker, Blushing, Mutual Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Peter Parker is Part Frost Giant, Jotunn | Frost Giant, Magic, Spider-Man Identity Reveal, Rated for Deadpool's Language, playfulness, winking, Growling, Teasing, Slow Romance, Shy Peter Parker, Elevators, Literal Sleeping Together, Banter, Touchy-Feely, Touch-Starved, Touching, Making Out, Rough Kissing, Kiss on the Cheek, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Dom/sub, Idiots in Love, Boys Kissing, Boys In Love, Pansexual Wade Wilson, Gay Peter Parker, Affection

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/Xxqafum

#ao3feed #fanfic #frostiron #ironfrost #loki x tony #tony x loki

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rosalieplots · 2 months

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Rosalie plot page

TRIGGERS ON PAGE: Mental Health

Name: Rosalie Lauren Cooper

Age: 29

DOB:08/09/1994

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Straight

Hometown: Cleveland, OHIO

current home: Los Angeles

occupation: Photographer/Model

3 pos traits: Super Loyal, Loving, Reliable

3 neg traits: Insecure, self deprecating, Defensive

Bio: Rosalie grew up as an only child and was raised by her dad and grandmother due to her mother being ill and in and out of the hospital alot of her childhood, causing her to have quite a bit of issues with a hard relationship with her mother. She moved to LA when she was 21 and has made her way up in photography and modeling. she is unfortunetly very defensive due to being more sensitive than she will ever admit, and she can be very closed off with other people when it comes to letting them in. She has a huge heart and would do anything for those she loves but doesnt like letting anyone help her she is stubborn, heard headed exterior with a soft interior.

BASIC PLOTS

FWB (0/3)

BEST FRIENDS/PARTNER IN CRIME(0/3)

POSSIBLE HALF SIBLING (0/1)

PLOTS BASED ON SONGS:

(0/1)MORE THAN FRIENDS BY LUKE NELSON AND LAINEY WILSON-Let’s “pretend we’re more than friends tonight,Let’s pretend and let each other Forget tomorrow ”- someone that Rosie is good friends with that maybe both have feelings for one another but dont want to ruin their friendship along the way but then one night happens and well we can go from there.

(0/1)THICC AS THEIVES BY LAUREN ALAINA-’Thelma and Louise and some faded blue denim’- this is basically Rosalies Ride or Die and she is theirs, someone that she would do anything for and is her entire best friend/life and knows everything about her.

(0/1)SHE NEVER CRIED IN FRONT OF ME BY TOBY KEITH: ’How was I supposed to know,She was slowly letting go,If I was putting her through hell,Hell, I couldn’t tell,She could’ve given me a sign,And opened up my eyes,How was I supposed to see,She never cried in front of me’- maybe this is where your muse was closed off in a relationship with rosalie and they were on and off for awhile before she finally has enough of it and let them go.

(0/1)HELL OF A MAN BY ELLA LANGLEY:That somethin’ about me can’t stick around,He’s all the way in, and I’m on the way out,Am I just a runner runnin’ from another?“- being closed off makes it harder for Rosalie to trust someone else, so this could be someone who is actually a really good person and tries hard to show her that trusting can be an okay thing.

(0/1)INSIDE YOUR HEAD BY WARREN ZEIDERS-I wanna know what’s goin’ on inside your head,Are you thinkin’ about him when your clothes are on my floor?”- rosalie had a bit of a rough past and made some decisions she isnt proud of, but this could be someone that rosalie cheated on a partner with in the past or they cheated on theirs or both, this could be someone who is her kryptonite and she falls into the same pattern whenever they are around.

OTHER PLOTS BASED ON PLOTS:

(0/1)**MARRY ME under the stars- Rosie moved to LA when she was 21 and was sort of just surviving trying to find her identity and escape her past, this could be a muse who she met and things moved quickly, to one night they just decided to get married at a small chapel somewhere and then things ended and either they signed divorce papers or have just been seperated for years we can brainstorm things for this~

(0/3)Best friends to enemies- This could be someone whom rosie trusted with all of her heart, but they lost her trust and she turned cold and maybe both did things that they didnt find themselves proud of.

(0/2)ENEMIES TO LOVERS-this could be someone that Rosalie literally despises and they also despise her but the chemistry is insane and the sex is better, but maybe they can work out their differences .

(0/1)**BABY DADDY PLOT: This could potentially be a one night stand type of plot, or added to any of the above plots, even the husband plot they could have a night of reconciliation, again open to brain storming this!

(0/?)Colleagues- this could be someone that she coordinates her photography with and can be anyone!!

ESCAPE THE PAST: Rosie grew up with a dad who worked to much and a mom who was in and out of Mental Health hospitals (TW mental health) and a grandma who raised her alot of the time, but they didnt have alot of money so when she was18 she started as an escort going on dates with men for money, to help her dad with the bills. she doesnt tell people this and maybe this is someone who actually knows the truth about her life before she got it together.

Exes

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kalique · 1 year

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ah fuck. now i’ve gotten started. i cant put this into words adequately but the unfortunate circumstances in which cuddy left the show in s7 did lead to the ability for s8 to be all hilson all the time and it was insane. it was incredible. have you people seen this. the people in those tags being like “omg is this real?” about that relatively tame, funny little moment. have you guys seen s8. house having a progressive meltdown/spiral upon learning that wilson is dying. as i recall he literally almost kills a patient, he’s so upset. over the death of a man. why are you as a man upset about the death of another man. did those people not see s8 and witness house mfing uhhhhh. tenderly caring for wilson in his most vulnerable hour. then setting up that whole mfing photo shoot just to make wilson laugh when he woke back up. and it worked girl. it worked. he made wilson laugh. why are you as a MAN making a MAN laugh. wilson literally says to house “i need you to tell me that you love me.” and then i forget exactly what house says in response but it’s something along the lines of “not unless you get better.” why are you as a MAN!! promising to tell a MAN!!!! that you love him.

then house commits a prank that ends up in him being sent back to jail. but if he goes back to jail he’ll miss wilson’s final months. so what does he do. he fucking uh. fakes his death. thus losing his identity and his ability to practice medicine forever. his entire life out the window. all so he can go on a #hetero #platonic road trip with wilson in his final months. the last shot is them driving into the sunset together, as two men. hm. smells FISHY!!!!!!!!!

also one time house installed a mechanical door that rises up into the ceiling so he can have a direct route to wilson’s office from his own office. also their song is my heart will go on. thanks

#i feel this all needs to be reiterated. everyone needs to remember this. this really happened

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denimbex1986 · 3 years

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“...I thought it was gonna be a disaster, especially putting me and Sebastian together and letting us go (laughs).”

“...all that was communicated at the time was, look, we love these two characters, um, Sam and Bucky, and we love them together. And we wanna, we wanna make sure that we, we get the time to focus on them, um, and, you know, this is again, following the, the footsteps of Infinity War and Endgame where I think, you know, our characters have been established to some extents, and again, mine way more so than, than Anthony’s character right, but then in the last few movies I, I’ve felt like - you know, at least what was communicated to me was that they hadn’t got a chance really explore them as much as they would have wanted to...they wanted us together and to further kind of, you know, expand on our, on our chemistry, you know, um and, and that was gonna be exciting and super fun to me. And, and the idea of just six hours obviously with, with, with these characters, um, was also really exciting, because it felt like we were gonna get to kind of get, you know, much deeper into who they were, and what their backgrounds are and where they come from.”

“...I thought that Sharon had sort of been put to bed, so it was really interesting to get the phone-call that they wanted to bring her back...for me that was very exciting...for Sharon it was just so much fun to see her in a different light...she’s really gone to the dark side, but I enjoyed it so much...”

“...entering the MCU Universe was, um, quite wild...I had no idea who Isaiah was...”

“...you just have to trust the people that you’re working with, and when you’re working with Anthony and Sebastian, and - I didn’t get to work with Emily but - uh, and Daniel, you know, it’s it’s easy - it’s like you do all kinds of different things and you’re having fun...”

“...we were always looking for the, the temperature of it, you know, in terms of how sarcastic is he, you know, uh, there were - there were, there were takes that we did that were very funny you know; there was a version of that scene that was actually more comedic, but you know, what I - what I loved ultimately is that they decided to go with, with something that was more grounded and realistic, and - and, and yeah. it was, it was nice to have a scene like that to start of with because at least it sets up for us the journey um, of, of where he has to go, you know, where he’s at sort of at the end of, of - of Endgame, you know, um, is, is very much in, in a sense of, you know, kind of a lack of identity and, and, and fortunately he has the capability to sort of reinvent himself and re-educate himself and really his arc in this show, from my perspective, was always a sort of a re-education and, and a, and a re kind of calibrating of, okay, what, who am I and, and - what am I - what do I stand for, and, and what can I contribute, how can I contribute, you know? Um, I think that in a way for, you know, he represents, you know it’s the PTSD of war, and, and again, of, of, of a soldier who sort of like enlisted a long time ago and then has kind of never really had his own choices, you know, to, to sort of make his own choices and now he finally does and, and what he does and what he decides to do, uh, is what I think is most impactful...”

“...my life mirrors the idea of Sam Wilson as a character...I’m a dude that went to a meeting and I left as Captain America...it’s a rewarding feeling, not only, you know the idea being Captain America, but to be a part of this institution that’s known as Marvel because, you know, it offers us the opportunities to do really interesting, fun, different types of roles, while at the same time, building our fan-base and doing it in a classy way...”

“...in the comic books, Sharon is such a badass and we never really did get to explore that side of her...it was great to see that side of Sharon, I really enjoyed it...I was so happy to see Sharon in this new light...”

“...I think his mind is completely changed by what he sees...he’s definitely changed...all he’s trying to do now is just live...”

“...I’d look at Sebastian and - because, you know, you know there was a moment of connection between them that, um, that needed to happen...he understands more of who he is now, but has to respect - listen respectfully...”

“...when I first read what he actually wrote, I was really moved, I was, I was taken aback because I didn’t - I had never - no-one had ever put my feelings, my complexity and confusion about the state of, uh, African-American in this country into words so eloquently and beautifully...Steve Rogers is a super-soldier, he’s a muscle Captain America...whereas Sam Wilson is a counsellor...they’re two very different characters...the idea of where we are as a country and what that monologue meant was really huge for me because I have sons, and I know when I have a party at the house for my boys, the back yard literally looks like a racial skittle-box...at some point in time, your reality should reflect everything around you, and I want my kinds to have a reality where they’re not pigeon holed into one idea of what they think their race, their culture, their masculinity is and I think, you know, with this series what Malcolm was able to put in that monologue so beautifully is we’re all Americans, we’re all humans...”

“...Bucky had a second shot and Wakanda gave him that...he knows where his loyalty and relationships lie, however he’s put in a situation in the show where he’s having to test boundaries and relationships as a result, and, you know, he’s also driven by slight triggers and personal motives desires that are, you know, unrealized desires he may have towards setting the score with Zemo, you know, you know, and, and, and you know, he’s kind of like torn and, and figuring out his boundaries - and that’s a moment where it’s like ‘Okay you’re right at the edge’. You know what I mean? And it’s like don’t, don’t forget like - don’t forget where you’re coming from now, you know, and, and I think it’s, it’s the, the learning of that. But then also, you know, in the comic book, in the comic books, you know, Bucky has, like he learns how to detach his arm and use it and throw it and all this stuff, so it’s like there was another piece of it also like ‘okay, now we can do this’, so I think - but I it’s just a humbling moment for him, you know - it’s a - he’s put in his place...”

“...we were joking around on set and we came up with the line, you know, ‘Spend a little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther.’ That’s my favourite line. Like, nobody caught it but it makes me so happy every time.”

“...it was just me and Sebastian like running down tunnels, and every time we turned - we, we turned around it was like a - it felt like a Benny Hill sketch; where it was dudes just running back and forth...as far as a day of me giggling, that was probably one of my better giggles.”

“...there was an explosion and so it’s just us falling, over, and over, and over again...you just think, ’what - what is this that we do for a living?’...”

“...there was that scene in Mad - Madripoor where he has to drink the - the snake thing; I have to tell you, I mean it was like, it was so hard not to laugh because we did it so many times and he was like; ‘Kari, why are you having me do this again?’ Every time, it was like another double reaction - it was so funny...”

#anthony mackie #Sebastian Stan #Wyatt Russell #Emily VanCamp #carl lumbly #falcon and the winter soldier #bucky #sharon carter #sam wilson #john walker #isaiah bradley

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jamesbuchananxsteviegrant · 3 years

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She Who Shan't Be Named - Part 1 | Sugar Lips (Tony x Reader, Clint x Reader, ??? x Reader)

Category: Smut (Mandatory) Age: 18+ Trigger Warnings: Explicit language, oral sex (male receiving), suggestive language, alcohol, drunk sexual actions, casual sexual actions, flirting with a lot of people Ship: Tony x Reader, Clint x Reader, ??? x Reader Summary: Tony lets his life-long friend crash at the Avengers HQ while she has nowhere else to go. What could go wrong with so many attractive individuals living in the same home? Word Count: 1.7k Masterlist: LINK

(hmu if you want adding to the tag-list for this series)

---

“I, unfortunately, have someone I want to introduce you all to.” Tony begins as he’s gathered everyone in the living quarters.

“Unfortunately? Well, that always sounds like a good start, Stark.” Natasha jokes, sitting alongside Bucky and Sam on one of the couches.

Tony rolls his eyes and shrugs.

“Yeah, well,” He trails off. “This is (Y/N) (L/N).” He gestures, pointing to the woman leaning against a pillar in the back corner of the room.

She makes an effort to stand upright and walk further into the room.

“Well, hello. It’s nice to finally meet you all in person.”

To say everyone in the room falls speechless with their eyes wide and jaws dropped is an understatement.

“Oh my God, you lot are insatiable.” Tony groans, rolling his eyes once more.

(Y/N) can only smirk and wink at just about everyone in the room.

“You’re welcome, Starky Boy.”

“Put a sock in it, sugar-lips.”

“Sugar-lips?” Rhodey quizzes, amusement dripping from his voice.

Tony and (Y/N) can only stare at one another and grin as they remember where that nickname came from.

*** flashback ***

“One more for the road?” Tony suggests to the very, very drunk (Y/N) beside him.

It’s three-thirty-AM, they’re both at their favourite bar in Manhattan, enjoying a belated birthday weekend of (Y/N)’s which he regretfully missed due to Avenger work.

“You know how to tempt me, Starky-boy.” She teases with a wink, waving her hand up to catch the attention of the bartender, Harrison, who they’ve grown acquainted with over the years of drinking at his bar.

Tony falls into a comfortable silence as he simply stares at the woman he’s been friends with since he was a teen at Phillips Academy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The woman’s sarcastic comment pushes him over the edge. Within a second, his hands are grabbing her head and pulling her in for a harsh, desperate, passion-fueled kiss.

Harrison smirks as he sits their drinks down, watching how the pair have had ridiculous amounts of sexual tension coursing through them since they first started coming to the bar over ten years ago.

“What, the fuck?” (Y/N) manages to breathe between kisses.

“Stop talking.” Tony murmurs in response, only intensifying the kiss more and more.

“Tony,” She attempts but makes no effort to stop the man. No. Absolutely not.

She’s gotten herself off to the thought of this man too many times for her to want to stop.

Her hands are grasping at the black shirt that adorns his torso, his own hands moving down to grab her hips, itching to have her closer and closer.

“Jesus Christ.” The woman gasps as best she can. “Anthony!”

The man pulls back at the use of his full name but doesn’t let go of her hips.

“Tell me you haven’t wanted to do that?” He asks, voice deep. Low. Husky.

“Of course I wanted to fucking do it, you imbecile!”

His hand jumps up to grasp at her throat, a gasp escaping her lips.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Guys, you’re gonna make my customers leave; the back lounge is empty.” Harrison interrupts. Tony continues to make no effort to stop his actions. They’re both too drunk to care.

Not that he’d care anymore so when he’s sober.

The billionaire practically drags the woman off of their barstools, (Y/N) frantically grabbing their drinks, spilling half of them on the floor - to which she gives Harrison an apologetic look but he simply rolls his eyes with a grin.

A small shriek escapes the woman’s lips as Tony throws her into the room, her hands managing to sit the, now half-empty, drinks on the coffee table.

“On your knees.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” She grins, obeying the man’s order whilst quickly throwing her hair into a messy ponytail.

“Always knew you were a slut.” The man growls, unbuckling his belt and zipper on his smart trousers.

“You know me best, Starky Boy.”

She wastes no time in taking the man’s solid cock into her mouth, moaning at the feeling and taste, Tony groaning in satisfaction.

“Look how desperate you are for it.” He condescends yet continues to thrust into her mouth, fucking the back of her throat.

No words can be formed to give the man a reply. She’s too busy focusing on taking his impressive shaft down her throat, making sure her lips are touching his pelvis.

“Christ!”

He can’t help himself. His hands are in her hair, grabbing it and yanking her closer to his body, not thinking about anything other than the noise of her gagging.

“FUCK! You filthy fucking slut.”

She moans at that, working his cock more and more.

It’s not too long later before the man is releasing all over the woman’s face, her sticking her tongue out and taking as much of it as she can.

“This was a brand new blouse, Stark.” She complains, jokingly, as she licks her white lips. “Ugh, salty.”

“Don’t lie, you know it’s sweeter than sugar.” Tony laughs, re-doing his trousers.

“It definitely fucking isn’t.” (Y/N) groans, standing up and licking the rest of the mess off of her mouth.

“Whatever you say, sugar-lips.”

“TONY!”

*** flashback end ***

“A nickname I gave her once upon a time.” Tony vaguely explains, (Y/N) chuckling.

“Okay. So why’s she here?” Bucky asks, not taking his eyes off the most attractive woman he’s ever seen in his life.

“She has a name.” (Y/N) comments, quirking a flirtatious brow at the man.

The super soldier raises his brows but smirks.

“Why’re you here, doll?”

Now, that does something to her core.

“Starky Boy told me that y’all need a babysitter, so here I am!” She boasts, evidently joking but it makes everyone grin and not ask anymore questions.

“I’ve known her since I was in my teens, she’s a family friend.” Tony adds, reassuring everyone that she’s not someone to be cautious of.

“Pft, family friend? Don’t compliment yourself, Stark.” (Y/N) jokes, everyone laughing with her. “Anyway, in all seriousness, hello, I’m (Y/N). I’m temporarily chilling here if you’re all alright with it since I got nowhere else to be.”

“A pleasure, (Y/N). Steve Rogers.” Captain America begins, stepping forward and shaking the woman’s hand.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Captain.” She winks, the man smirking at her antics which will be refreshing around the compound.

“Bucky.” The Winter Soldier greets, nodding his head at the woman from his seat on the couch.

“Romanoff.” Black Widow follows, (Y/N) biting her lip at the red-head. “Natasha Romanoff.”

“Alright, James Bond.” Sam jokes, everyone laughing.

“Tony, I can’t believe this is the first time you’ve given me the opportunity to meet the Natasha Romanoff.” (Y/N) beams, winking at the woman who returns the gesture with a smug smile.

“Christ.” Tony groans, face-palming harder than ever.

“Sam Wilson.” The man smirks, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand from his position on the couch.

“Bird Boy.”

He gives a hearty laugh at that.

“Sure.”

“James Rhodes, but call me Rhodey.”

“So you’re the Transformer’s identical twin, right?” The woman quizzes, rhetorically, shaking the man’s hand.

Another round of laughter.

“Something like that.”

“Bruce. Bruce Banner.”

“The guy I don’t wanna piss off; got it.” (Y/N) smiles, watching the brunet give her an anxious smile and chuckle. “Or maybe I do.” She adds with a wink, basking in the entertainment that comes from his embarrassed expression.

“(Y/N).” Tony groans, semi-threateningly.

“Yes, Anthony?” She asks, smiling at him like an innocent child who’s never done wrong.

“Good day to you, beautiful mortal. I am Thor of Asgard.”

“Wowee…” The woman widens her eyes as the God leans down to kiss her cheeks. “The one and only.”

“That would be I.” He smiles, throwing her a wink also. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Stop hogging the limelight already.” A voice complains from beside the God of Thunder.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the God of Mischief.”

“Well, well, well, a beautiful lady such as yourself knows who I am, huh?” Loki greets, taking her hand and leans down to press a kiss to her knuckles, Tony continuing to grunt and groan in the background.

“Hard not to when you get off on destroying New York.” (Y/N) grins, a chorus of laughter filling the room yet again.

“Stop hogging the limelight.” A female voice mimics Loki's previous words.

“Well if it isn’t the Scarlet Witch!”

“That is I.” Wanda grins. “Wanda.” She adds, holding her hand out for (Y/N) to shake, which she accepts graciously.

“Tony, do you know how pissed I am that you’ve not introduced me to these people until now?”

“Oh my God, I’m literally going to kick you out.” The billionaire responds, pouring himself a whisky from the bar at the back of the living quarters.

“Yeah, yeah.” (Y/N) retorts, winking at Wanda before turning to the couch beside her which a certain Archer is leisurely laid across. “Barton.”

“(L/N).”

“Long time no see.”

“Ya think?” Clint quirks a brow, jokingly.

“How’s Laura? How’re the kids?”

“Not bad, not bad. How’s Michael?”

“Dead if I had any say in the matter.” The woman casually threatens as the brunet mentions her ex-boyfriend.

He breathes out a laugh.

“Commitment issues as good as ever then?”

“You know me, Robin.” She jokes, using the nickname she gave me when he came on a night out with Tony and her many moons ago.

“You two know each other?” Wanda questions.

They both shrug.

“Somewhat.” Clint answers, (Y/N) giving him a playful slap on the shoulder.

“You love me!”

He grins and sits up before standing.

“You know I do, come ‘ere.” The man chuckles, pulling the woman in for a tight embrace.

“Missed you, Robin.”

“You too, Marian.” He responds, using the fairytale nicknames from Robin Hood.

“Those two have definitely banged.” Sam snarks from across the room, Natasha agreeing.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Wilson.” Clint teases, flashing a wink his way.

“Now, now, boys.” The woman settles, turning to the young gentleman on the other couch, staring at her with some much awe in his eyes. “Who’s the kid?” She asks, staring at him directly yet directing her question at Tony.

“Uh, hi, I’m Peter. Peter Parker.” He stumbles, standing upright and holding out his hand for her to shake.

She giggles.

“Corruptible.”

“(L/N)!” Tony yells, the woman only laughing as she shakes the young man’s hand.

“A pleasure, spider-boy.”

Peter’s eyes widen at her knowing.

“Right, are we done? That was exhausting.” Tony complains for the nth time.

“Oh, grow a pair, Stark.” (Y/N) retorts.

“I will literally kick you out of this building.”

“You ain’t got the nerve.”

Downing a swig of his whisky, Tony takes a deep breath but smiles at the woman.

“It’ll be nice to have you around, sugar-lips.”

“I bet.” She winks, everyone chuckling again.

And that’s just the beginning of her relationships with everyone at the Avengers HQ.

---

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Ten: Justice

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person’s relationship with his son. You’ve heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You’ve felt his pain and anguish and you’ve never been able to relate to anything more. But things don’t come easy for you, and they certainly don’t come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: so many tears, mention of child neglect and abuse, child custody battle, court. This is essentially the chapter we’ve all been waiting for. I’m so nervous to post this so please let me know what you think and, as always, reblogs are very much appreciated.

Word count: 5000>

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Ten - Next

Just like the past few days, you had been rudely awoken by a phone call from Diana Prince. This time, you were back in Maxwell’s king sized bed in D.C., with Alistair sandwiched between you and Max.

“Di?” You asked, rubbing your tired eyes.

“Barbara is here. Now. You have to come over. I’m trying to get her to renounce her wish but she’s fighting back. Come in your Amazonian gear and don’t forget your lasso. Hurry!” she exclaimed before hanging up.

You yawned and put the phone back on the hook. You could stay in bed with Alistair and Maxwell forever but, if Diana needed your help, you had to provide. You followed her instructions and headed out without saying anything to Max. You shouldn’t be too long anyways, you decided. Everything would be okay.

***

When Maxwell eventually woke up and you weren’t by his side, he was confused. In fact, to say he was devastated would have been an understatement. Today was his big court date-- the battle where he’d fight for Alistair’s custody. He had faith you’d be there, just like you promised. Only, there was one small thought haunting him in the very back of his mind.

What if you had become too powerful for this world? What if you already had to go back to Themyscira? No. It would be fine-- Max reassured himself. Maxwell got all suited up and Raquel came to the door.

“Thank you for agreeing to watch Alistair.” Maxwell sighed, adjusting his cufflinks.

“It’s really no problem, Mr. Lord.” Raquel smiled graciously, taking Alistair’s hand.

“Daddy?” Alistair asked, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“Yeah buddy?”

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this, but I really hope you win today.” Alistair confessed before turning around and leaving with Raquel.

***

“You… Diana!?” You shouted, running up to Barbara and untying her from the bed. Barbara’s eyes locked onto you as you helped release her. “Hey listen… I don’t know what’s going on but I’m your friend. I don’t want to hurt you.” you promised, locking your gaze onto her ocean blue eyes. The colour alone was enough to remind you of the beautiful oceans back on Themyscira.

A tear slipped down Barbara’s cheek and you quickly wiped it away, smoothing out her blonde wavy hair. “I feel so foolish,” she choked out, shaking her head. “Just for once I wanted to be the greatest. And all to prove a point.”

“It’s okay,” you shushed her, cautiously wrapping your arms around her and pulling her into a hug. You wanted to be careful not to smother her. Barbara had done terrible things, no different to Max, but you knew that it wasn’t really them. That they were both possessed by the power of the wish. “Did you speak to Diana?” you asked eventually, truly wondering where your sister was. She’d called you and yet she wasn’t here.

“I came after her… for-- for the dreamstone,” Barbara confessed as her tears soaked your tunic. “She told me it had been destroyed but that’s… that’s impossible.”

You exhaled. “No Barbara, it’s true. Max and I… we--” you tried to explain but Barbara cut you off.

“Babajide said only true love can--”

“I know.” you sighed, looking down at your feet.

“Oh.” Was the only sound Barbara could bear to omit. “You love him?”

You smiled weakly and nodded your head. “I’ve never really been in love before, I don’t think. But I have this feeling in my heart and no words can describe it. I’ve read about it in mythology… like the story of Orpheus and Eurydice and when I’m with Max I just feel… complete. I feel whole.”

“I know the feeling because I feel it too.” Barbara sniffed, pulling off you and crossing her arms over her chest. You could immediately tell that she was feeling vulnerable.

“You do?”

“With Diana.” Barbara confirmed.

“...You-- you’re in love with Diana?” You asked with a small gasp.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life.” Barbara sighed into admittance.

“Then you will know that love is the most powerful thing in the world. Barbara… if you renounce your wish then--”

“I know.” Barbara whimpered, rubbing her tearful eyes.

“The wish might have given you all this power, but I promise you there is nothing more powerful than the love you have for Diana,” you reassured Barbara and took her hands. “And the love she has for you.”

“The-- what?” Barbara asked.

“I’m the goddess of family, Barbara, I have a pretty good judgement of knowing when somebody is in love. I see the way she looked at you in the tomb back in Athens. You could have something so beautiful together,” you smiled, giving Barbara’s hands a light squeeze. “Renounce your wish. For Diana.”

Barbara turned and looked out the window, her lips trembling before she looked back at you. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I renounce my wish.” she declared, and you felt a breeze-- and wind, almost, gush through your hair. The grip on her hand became electric and you pulled off her, noticing the way your body began to glow. Barbara’s eyes snapped open and her jaw slackened as she watched your feet leave the ground. You were floating, a glittering golden aura similar to the lasso of truth highlighting your entire body. It was blinding.

The walls of Diana’s apartment began to crumble around you and you eventually fell to the ground. Barbara gasped upon seeing you again. “You-- you’re outfit. You’re glowing…”

You looked down at yourself and your eyes widened in disbelief. Your typical Amazonian tunic had literally changed colours. What was once brown, was now gold, red and blue-- the traditional colours of a child of Zeus. “Like Diana,” Barbara mumbled. “It’s beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you admired the way your new armour looked. The Gods had blessed you with this transformation, and that must have meant you had done something right. You had gotten Barbara to renounce her wish, after all.

No, love was what had gotten Barbara to renounce her wish.

But the walls around you were still crumbling down and the ground beneath you was splitting. “Oh my-- Barbara. I have to go. I’ve already overstayed my welcome.” you said in a panic.

“What? I’m sure Diana doesn’t mind you being here.” Barbara replied, scratching the back of her neck in bewilderment.

“No. The World of Man… I’m too powerful I-- I have to return to Themyscira,” you said in a fluster. You remembered that Diana told you-- with the combination of both of your lassos, you could create a portal that would ensure you returned back home safely. “I have to go now.”

“What about Max?” Barbara asked, standing up and staring at you.

Shit, Max.

The court case.

You were already so late.

“Barbara, I have to go. Keep Diana informed. I-- I have to go see Max and tell him… tell him…”

“Tell him you love him.” Barbara confirmed.

Could you really do that when you were leaving so soon? You opened the window and unravelled your lasso of truth before signalling one final goodbye to Barbara. In a panic you flew out the window and glided through the air, overhead the bustling city beneath you. You had to get to court, at least before the verdict. You couldn’t let him down.

***

“Can both parties please rise?” Judge Edward Wilson requested.

Maxwell felt sick to his stomach. You weren’t here. You were supposed to be here; fixing all of this. You had promised. And you were nowhere in sight. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fingers into a fist. He heard the scraping of the chairs as Julianna and Theodore stood. He followed their actions just a few moments after. It was fine. He could do this without you. Maxwell had come from nothing and he had gotten this far in life completely alone, he could do it again. Maxwell took a deep breath and flattened his suit down before shooting the judge one of his charming, albeit fake, television smiles. The judge grinned, excited to be working on a case with the Max Lord.

“Your honor, I am Theodore Thomas, esteemed family lawyer and I will be representing Miss Julianna Grey on this child custody case.” Ted introduced himself, holding himself high and mighty.

“I’m Julianna Grey, your honor. I’m the biological mother of Alistair Lorenzano and I am here today to request full custody of my son.”

The judge nodded in understanding before turning to Maxwell. “O-oh,” Max shuffled uncomfortably upon realising it was his turn to speak. He looked at the jury of twelve that sat before him. Twelve randomly selected members of the public who were about to learn his true identity. The identity he had kept so well hidden for the last twenty years. “I’m Maxwell Lor-Lorenzano and I’m the biological father of Alistair Lorenzano,” he looked back at Julianna and Theodore who were glaring in his direction. “And I am here today to tell you that I love my son so much.” Maxwell exclaimed.

Judge Edward Wilson adjusted the brimless reading glasses that sat on the curve of his nose. “Mr Lorenzano, you do agree to the case proceedings that will be occurring today, yes?”

“Yes. I do.” Maxwell affirmed, placing both his palms flat on the oak wood table.

“And you do not have an attorney?” Judge Wilson quizzed further.

Maxwell sighed. You should be here. “No I do not. But if possible, may I request a publicly funded attorney?”

“Now now,” Judge Wilson reprimanded, pointing his finger. “I will be the judge of whether or not Mr Lorenzano’s lack of care is sufficient for the transferral of custody.”

The jury murmured amongst themselves, questioning whether or not Max Lord didn’t have a jury because he was broke. They raised their eyebrows, judging the businessman who stood before them. “Unfortunately, with this being a civil case, you are not entitled to a publicly funded attorney.” The Judge hummed, rearranging his stack of papers.

“With all due respect, your honor, we gave Mr Lorenzano ample time to find a representative for this case. This right here is an example of Mr Lorenzano’s lack of care for the minor child in question. If he wanted to even stand a chance at gaining custody of Alistair, he would’ve gotten a lawyer.” Theodore scoffed incredulously whilst Julianna tried her hardest to suppress her smirk. Maxwell knotted his eyebrows together as furiosity consumed him.

Thankfully, Judge Wilson knew better to just dismiss his comment. He turned to Maxwell. “Mr Lorenzano, you said you were ‘busy doing other things’, indicating that those other things are the reason you did not find an attorney to represent your side of the case. May I ask what those things were? Perhaps a work commitment? Or a family commitment?”

Maxwell was still glaring at Theodore for his out of pocket comment. “I care about Alistair, so much.” Maxwell told the court, but his dark eyes were trained only on his ex wife and her current boyfriend. “I would argue that a week in advance is not enough time to hire a lawyer and familiarise themselves with the facts of this case. I was busy doing other things.”

“Facts?” Theodore laughed. “Your honor, Mr Lorenzano knows nothing about ‘facts’. This man is deceitful. He has built his whole career on lies. Don’t you think young Alistair deserves two good role models to look up to? For example, a stay at home mother such as Julianna who can give him her full attention and care, and a family lawyer such as myself, who fights for justice in society?” Maxwell felt nauseated as he was being forced to hear the absolute bullshit Theodore was spouting out. He was painting himself as some kind of hero to a courtroom who knew no different. But that’s what Theodore Thomas did the best. And that was why he was the most successful lawyer in Washington D.C.

“Uh,” Maxwell squeezed his eyes shut. “Not exactly. It’s complicated, your honor. I was in Athens with a friend.” He hated the way the revelation left his lips. But it was the truth. And if he had learned one thing from Diana, it was that the truth is beautiful. But was truth going to win the case?

Judge Wilson blinked momentarily as silence filled the courtroom. A smile flexed upon Theodore’s lips. “You were in Athens with a friend?” Judge Wilson repeated, gritting his teeth.

“Yes, your honor.” Maxwell sighed in admittance.

“Mr Lorenzano,” Judge Wilson addressed Max before glancing towards the jury who were taking notes. “I hope you realise this does not sound good in your favour.”

Maxwell cursed in his mind. Of course it didn’t. He’d gone with you to Athens to help you find and destroy the dreamstone. But he couldn’t say that in court. Hell, he couldn’t say that to anyone. You trusted him with your secret and he wasn’t going to expose you like that. Then again, you had broken your promise. You hadn’t shown up in court. You lied to him. And Maxwell was hurting a lot. He felt betrayed. Nevertheless, he still loved you so much. No doubt the jury would even believe the fact a magical goddess came into Max’s life and encouraged him to accompany her to Athens to destroy a wish-granting stone possessed by the God of Lies. That would just be ridiculous.

Maxwell didn’t reply. “On that note,” Judge Wilson grimaced before turning back to face Julianna and Theodore. “I ask that the claimant address all their points as to why they believe Mr Lorenzano is an unfit father to Alistair Lorenzano.”

Julianna clapped her hands excitedly. Maxwell figured she must have spent her entire life preparing herself for this moment. Max knew that he’d likely have to sit through possibly hours of Julianna and her sleazeball of a boyfriend demonizing him and pushing him down. Nothing new. But when it came to illustrating the point whether or not Maxwell was an unfit father, he didn’t want to hear it. To Max, Alistair was an angel. He deserved the best and Maxwell had always wanted to be the best for his son. None of this would’ve happened if Max hadn’t been led down such a dark path in the first place. Yes, Maxwell often doubted his capability as a parent, but at least he was trying to change. Julianna didn’t even care about Alistair. She was a neglectful mother, always dumping Alistair upon Max without warning so she could spend time with Ted or go shopping with her friends. Maxwell loved his son more than anything else in the whole world.

“Mr Lorenzano, as I’m sure you all know, is what I’d once describe to be a ‘successful’ businessman. Now I personally think he’s just a businessman,” Theodore smirked and Maxwell rolled his eyes. “He’s a television personality who goes by Max Lord. He’s a liar. A con man. Not only has he lied about his identity to the whole world, but he’s tricked the weak minded into investing into his ponzi-scheme.”

“Hey!” A juror interrupted. “I invested in Black Gold Cooperative!”

“Well-I mean, obviously you’re not weak minded.” Theodore quickly backtracked.

“He did just call you weak minded.” Maxwell muttered with a shrug of his shoulders. The juror frowned and sat back down.

An hour passed and both Julianna and Theodore were still taking turns to drag Max down. He felt like giving up. You were his only hope, and you weren’t even there. “Mr Lorenzano,” Judge Wilson began. “Do you have any objections to the claimants allegations?”

“Yes, I object to it all!” Max exclaimed.

“I should rephrase,” Judge Wilson sighed. “Are they telling the truth about you?”

They were. They hadn’t lied. They’d compiled a list of all of Maxwell’s mistakes, errors, and flaws. They had him backed up into a corner he couldn’t get out of. On occasions, were they making a mountain out of a molehill? Of course. But were they honest? Yes. Maxwell had fucked up.

“They are.” Maxwell nodded, his knees becoming weak with anxiety.

“Okay,” The Judge replied, his tone dripping with disappointment and perhaps even sadness. “It’s now your turn to speak, Mr Lorenzano. Although I have no doubt the jury has already come to a decision.”

Maxwell turned to face the jury who were looking at him with identical stone cold expressions. Like he was some kind of villainous monster. A lying criminal. And it was all thanks to Theodore’s stupid little speech.

“Uhm,” Maxwell stood up and brushed down his suit again before walking over to the jury. “Theodore is right. I have done bad things and I have lied to many people. I’m not perfect, but I’m trying to get better. For my son. For Alistair. He gives my life hope and reason and purpose. I believe that he makes me a better person. I’m not sure if any of you have kids of your own but you know how hard the pressure can be. The truth is, I never considered myself a family man. I never wanted children but when Alistair came into my life… for the first time I felt like the universe was on my side,” Maxwell took the polaroid out of his pocket and slid it over for the jury to look at. “This was the day he was born. I had never felt so much love.” Maxwell smiled faintly at the memory.

“Quit it with your sob story.” Theodore moaned, rolling his eyes.

“Let Mr Lorenzano speak.” Judge Wilson snapped back. Max nodded his head with gratitude.

“I never used to believe in love before Alistair was born. And then recently, I got lost. Things didn’t make sense and my mind became clouded with just about all the wrong things. And then this girl came into my life and she reminded me of how it feels to love and be loved in return. So now I do. I believe in love. I believe that love conquers all. That love can end all wars and quash all hatred in the world. Please, I ask that you empathize with me. We’ve all made mistakes. If I could go back and fix it I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Alistair.” Max croaked, letting a real, genuine tear slip down his cheek.

Silence filled the courtroom and deciding that Maxwell had nothing else to say, he sat back down in his seat. He knew he’d lost. You weren’t there to help him. He had no attorney. And like Diana had warned him; the consequences of his actions lay in his fate with Alistair. He was going to lose the little boy he loved so much. His only son.

Maxwell knew he was a lot of things but he was not an unfit father. He was prepared to give Alistair the world. An unfit father would be his own father. A man who spent his days drunk and abusing him and his mother. Both physical and mental torture. Max would never ever do that to Alistair. Ever. He tried so hard to be a positive, influential figure to Alistair because he never had one himself.

“I believe the jury has come to a conclusion,” Judge Wilson announced, taking a painful amount of time to open the envelope that had been handed to him. “The jury have decided that full custody of Alistair Lorenzano will be granted to Juli-”

“STOP!” You screamed, using your full force to push open the sturdy double doors that led into the courtroom.

The scene ahead was something straight out of a courtroom drama movie. Maxwell’s jaw dropped upon the sight of you and the jury gasped, muttering words of bewilderment amongst each other as you ran up to Max. And oh, you were a sight.

Maxwell didn’t know what happened, but there you were, dressed in red, blue and gold. He pinned it down to an Amazonian warrior’s outfit, for sure, because there was no way any Sears’ or Macy’s or Bloomingdales’ would sell anything like that. You were sparkling, your tiara fit perfectly on your head and your gladiator sandals tied in neat ribbons to your kneecaps. You looked like a real-life Goddess. In your element.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Maxwell gasped as you ran into his arms. You hugged him tight and he tried to hold back his cries. “Thought… you’d already gone back to Themyscira.”

The thought of you leaving Max without a proper goodbye was debilitating. He was the man who took you in, gave you a home and comfort, and showed you what real, true love was.

“I couldn’t leave without keeping my promise.” you sniffed, cupping his cheeks and offering him a small smile. You spent a moment just gazing into his chocolate brown eyes. In the past day, his eyes looked like they had aged ten years due to all the stress he was under -- but they were still the most beautiful things you had ever seen.

Gods, you loved him so much. And you wanted him to know how much you loved him. He deserved to know. But right now, you had to focus on keeping your promise. The reason you had come to the world of man in the first place was to reunite Alistair and Max, so that was exactly what you were going to do. You hadn’t constructed a plan, and you knew that would be your fatal error -- but it had to be now or never. All you could do was hope that, somehow, everything would fall into place. You cleared your throat and presented yourself in front of the judge, before introducing yourself. “I’m here to represent Maxwell Lorenzano in the custody battle for Alistair Lorenzano.”

The judge sighed, adjusting his white wig. “The case started two hours ago, ma’am. With all due respect, the jury has already reached a verdict. Unless you have any valid evidence as to why you believe Mr Lorenzano would make a worthy father, or Miss Grey an unworthy mother, there is nothing more I can do.”

You felt your heart stop in your chest and it was like everything around you was in slow motion. Goose pimples pricked your arms as you looked around the courtroom at all the different faces. You were standing in front of fifty or so people, easily and they were all staring at you. Of course you knew why… you weren’t exactly dressed like a ‘typical’ citizen of the world. But you just had to suck it up because you had made a promise to Maxwell, all those days ago. You had a duty to fulfil as the Goddess of home and hearth, and you knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but in that moment you knew exactly what you had to do.

“I have evidence.” you said with a shaky exhale.

Maxwell narrowed his eyes and leaned into you. “What?” he asked, just as confused as everyone else. Julianna and Theodore exchanged a nervous glance as the jury and audience continued to murmur amongst each other.

“Trust me.” you smiled a tearful smile and you felt your lips begin to quiver with anxiety. You closed your eyes and tried to regulate your breathing. It would be okay. It was going to be okay.

“Well, present your evidence.” Judge Wilson sighed and you nodded your head with affirmation.

Taking your lasso of truth, you began to unravel it, and showed the courtroom the way it glowed golden upon touching it. “What is that?” you heard one of the juror’s ask.

“This is the lasso of Hestia. It belonged to my mother and it’s powered by the truth. The truth and purity of the universe.” You explained, and the jury were in complete awe.

Julianna was the first one to burst into laughter. “You can’t be serious? A magical lasso? What? You got that from the costume and prop store on 2nd Street? Please. This is actually a serious case. Get outta here.” she snarled, her lips curling into a frown.

Maxwell went to snap back but you quickly stopped him before slowly padding towards Julianna and Theodore. And you smiled. “May I demonstrate?” you asked her, and Julianna gulped hesitantly. “If it’s just a prop from a costume store then… you have no reason to be afraid, do you?”

Julianna turned to Theodore who just shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. Fine.” Julianna sighed, holding out her wrists. You carefully tied them together with the lasso before trailing it across the courtroom.

“Ted, Max, Judge Wilson… feel free to hold on to the lasso,” you pulled it to where the jury was sitting and made sure that each member held a tight grip onto it. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt.” you promised.

“What are you doing?” Maxwell gritted out. “I can’t let you do this. Exposing your powers in front of all these people… it’ll turn you into a mortal.”

You knew that. But it was a sacrifice you were willing to take. If this past week had taught you anything it was that love was the most beautiful thing in this universe. And that love truly does conquer all. You were able to tell Barbara that with your whole chest-- so just for once, maybe you should listen to yourself. You deserved your happy ending.

And you were never happy on Themyscira.

But here, with Maxwell and Alistair? You were happy.

You were finally happy and you wouldn’t let anything get in the way of that.

Taking a deep breath, you shrugged off his comment and turned around to speak to the courtroom.

“The lasso of Hestia compels you all to see the truth about Alistair Lorenzano.”

You watched intently as their eyes snapped shut and they saw the truth. They saw how neglectful Julianna and Theodore had been, and how loving Maxwell was. How Maxwell flew home from Greece just to be with his son whilst Julianna left him in the house alone. They saw the way Julianna verbally abused Alistair, and Maxwell winced as it paralleled his own childhood memories. They saw it all. They saw the truth.

But-- it was draining you. It was like you could slowly feel your powers slip out of you. You were losing your immortality, and your strength. You felt yourself become weaker by the second until eventually, it was over. They opened their eyes and looked at Maxwell in shock.

You took the lasso from each person and you whimpered slightly at how weighted it suddenly felt in your grip. Attaching it back to your tunic, you took Maxwell’s hand. “Did it work?” you asked weakly, hoping and praying that your sacrifice would change something.

Maxwell swallowed but before he could open his mouth, a juror spoke.

“The jury would like to change their verdict.” he announced, and the judge looked down at the envelope. He rubbed his teary eyes and sighed. The Judge had been… crying?

“Well, I hereby grant custody of Alistair Lorenzano to his father, Maxwell Lorenzano.” Judge Wilson declared before banging his gavel down on the desk.

Julianna screamed. Members of the audience cheered. You turned to Maxwell who’s cheeks were tearstained. “Oh my Gosh Max, we did it!” you cried, and Maxwell let himself fall limp in your arms as he sobbed uncontrollably.

“You-- you just-- I can’t believe--” He cried before pulling off you and flashing you the most precious grin. It was enough to make your heart swell with happiness. “I can’t believe you sacrificed your powers for me and Ali--”

“Well, believe it.” you said, leaning in and pressing a soft yet passionate kiss into his lips. Max’s hands fell down to your hips as he held onto you and relished your taste. He pulled away from you and instinctively smoothed out your hair.

“I love you so much,” Maxwell admitted finally, unable to keep his true feelings to himself any longer. “I’m so in love with you.”

And now, it was your turn to cry. It was the words you had longed to hear from the moment you came to the world of man. “I love you too Maxwell Lorenzano,” you confessed, running your fingers through his golden hair. Max choked back a sob as he gazed into your eyes. “Come on,” you encouraged, rubbing the small of his back. “You have a son to get home to.” you giggled and Maxwell’s eyes lit up.

“Does this mean you don’t have to return to Themyscira?” Maxwell asked hopefully and you felt your cheeks flush with heat as you shook your head.

“No, I don’t have to return to Themyscira. I’m a mortal now, just like you”

Somehow, you thought you’d be hurting more. You just gave up your powers-- your whole life. But this… this felt perfect. Like it was meant to be. You weren’t hurting, in fact, you had never been so elated in your life.

“Well, you’ll always be a goddess to me.” Max confessed, pressing another kiss into your lips. “Come on. Let’s go get Alistair.” he grinned, tugging on your hand as you excitedly ran out of the courtroom together.

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thinkingimages · 3 years

Photo

Joan Bennett in the film Secret Behind the Door

Sexuality and Space edited by Beatriz Colomina

Elizabeth Wilson

In the early 1990s the addition of “sexuality” seemed to take the vibrant debate on space into new territory. The very title of Sexuality and Space reflects this, and as Beatriz Colomina remarks in her brief introduction to the collection of articles it comprises, to insist on “sexuality” as a component of space can be, at one level, to insert feminist concerns into a masculine discourse—although it is dispiriting if sexuality is still perceived as women’s domain, somehow suggesting that anatomy still is destiny and/or that women are still equated with the bodily in a way that men are not. As Colomina makes clear, however, the volume, like the symposium at which the papers it contains were initially presented, aims to do more than simply “include women.” Nor does it aim simply to explore “how sexuality acts itself out in space,” although this would have been an interesting subject in its own right: how actually existing urban, architectural spaces are used intentionally or illicitly for sexual purposes. We could have had papers on the role of the “cottage” (public lavatory) in gay sex, on museums as pick-up grounds for intellectual singles, on the voyeurism of peep shows, and so on. But this would presumably have been too literal a project for the theorists gathered. Instead we are invited to treat architecture as a “system of representation” on a par with film and TV, and to ask how space is “already inscribed in the question of sexuality.” Gender is inscribed in space and space is never designed in a gender-neutral way.

Accordingly, the articles range across the visual arts in a fashion that at first glance seems not so much interdisciplinary as wildly eclectic—Atget photographs of Paris, Alberti’s writings, an Australian advertisement for real estate. The approaches taken by the authors are also widely divergent.

Jennifer Bloomer has missed an opportunity to explore the purported “effeminacy” of Louis Henri Sullivan’s architectural work. She raises the interesting issue of the assumed relationship between gender identity (and/or sexual orientation) and allegedly “feminine” architectural forms and decoration, but instead of developing this theme she flirts with it, creating a theoretical bricolage that fails to achieve intellectual coherence, her discussion of the function and symbolic importance of ornament not fully meshing with the problematic figure of Sullivan. A similar collagist approach is used by Catherine Ingraham, and I can see that it may be a kind of postmodern criticism; but while it permits the introduction of a variety of interesting, if only tenuously related, points and theories, it has a modish feel, especially when the usual theoretical suspects are rounded up for an airing, Lacan’s lavatory doors making repeat appearances. By contrast, Alessandra Ponte’s essay on the 18th-century antiquarian Richard Payne Knight is very focused (as is Molly Nesbit’s meditation on the absence of “la Parisienne” from Atget’s photographs of empty corners of his city), a piece of historiographical excavation revealing the phallocentrism of 18th-century theories of architecture.

Yet most of the articles, despite their apparent divergence of subject, are united by theoretical protocols as well as by the central concern of the book as a whole, which is not eroticism but gender, and not architecture but space in a variety of manifestations, many of them historical. The main uniting factor is psychoanalytic theory.

The material throughout is rich and detailed. Beatriz Colomina contributes an analysis of representations of house designs, particularly interiors, by Adolf Loos and Le Corbusier. She explores the way in which these houses are photographed, and some of the ideas informing them, drawing out the way in which these utopian, perfect rooms are—paradoxically—theatrical sets for dramas of domestic life. There is an implied contradiction between the architect’s dream of perfect space and the actually existing mess of daily life; but either way the woman is always positioned as hidden and within, object of the male gaze. Surprising similarities (or perhaps they are not so surprising) are revealed between these modernist architects and the Renaissance architect and philosopher Leon Battista Alberti. Mark Wigley shows how Alberti, both in his treatise on the family and in his architectural writings, describes the ideal house as a building that encloses, conceals, and ultimately fetishizes heterosexual intercourse; the separate rooms of husband and wife may be entered by a private intercommunicating door, so that other members of the household need never know when the partners engage in sexual relations. More generally the domestic interior becomes, in Alberti’s propositions, a prison house for women, although Wigley suggests that this architectural manifestation of patriarchy only fully came into its own with the 19th-century bourgeoisie.

Patricia White’s paper is concerned with the filmic representation of a house, “Hill House,” as explored in Robert Wise’s 1963 horror classic, The Haunting. As she points out, this film is truly terrifying, but achieves its effects without any special effects or any actual representation of anything horrific. White identifies the underlying horror as arising from the film’s exploration of lesbian sexuality, demonstrating convincingly how the film’s central character, Eleanor, played by Julie Harris, although destroyed by Hill House, whose “gaze” she cannot escape, yet manages to “exceed” the narrative, speaking finally in voice-over from beyond the grave. White’s deployment of psychoanalytic film theory seems particularly apt and nonreductive; she uses it to bring out the ambiguity of the film, in which lesbian desire is apparently defeated and yet remains disruptive, “exceeding the drive of cinema to closure.”

Patricia White inevitably refers in the course of her argument to Laura Mulvey’s well-known article “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.”1 I have never entirely understood why this article became so hugely influential, given its negative and pessimistic reading (especially from a feminist point of view) of cinematic pleasure. But perhaps that was the point: as this volume itself demonstrates, psychoanalytic theory (especially its Lacanian variant) has been the basis for a “criticism of suspicion,” by which I mean a criticism that not only deconstructs the way in which effects are achieved and exposes meanings that might otherwise be hidden from an “innocent” audience, but invests all aspects of any aesthetic work with doubt and dubiousness. The excavation of cultural products must always, it seems, uncover skeletons. In this regard, architecture and cinema are two forms of cultural production particularly vulnerable to what Martin Jay has termed a 20th-century “denigration of vision” that has supplanted its earlier (Enlightenment) celebration.2 Viewing and the gaze, the totalizing vision and the nobility of sight, have been comprehensively delegitimated as (white, Western) masculine methods of control and domination.

In Laura Mulvey’s original article there was no place for the female spectator to lay claim to the gaze other than by becoming masculinized. Mulvey has since sought to modify this view, while never renouncing the underlying assumptions on which it was based, and she contributes to the present volume a meditation that considers Pandora and her box (“the box can … stand as a representation of the enigma and threat generated by the concept of female sexuality in patriarchal culture”), the Hitchcock film Notorious, and the idea of female curiosity as a transgressive exploration of forbidden spaces. For her, psychoanalytic theory as used in feminist criticism is transgressive, for “curiosity describes the desire to know something that is concealed so strongly that it is experienced like a drive, leading to the transgression of a prohibition,” and feminist curiosity then constitutes an unmasking of the patriarchal structures of popular, or indeed any, culture.

Yet, as Victor Burgin argues in his essay on the photography of Helmut Newton, Mulvey’s original article has itself been fetishized; its influence has neither diminished nor evolved. Having made this statement, however, Burgin himself makes little further attempt to develop it, confining himself instead to an analysis of a Newton image, interesting enough, but much narrower in focus than his opening sentence had led this reader, at least, to expect. Burgin is rightly dismissive of the way in which psychoanalytic theory has been “sociologized” and collapsed into a vulgar-Marxist version of woman-as-commodity. He might feel that Lynn Spigel’s essay on television and the postwar American suburban home is too “sociological,” but this is one of the clearest articles in the collection, a model of structural simplicity and accessibility, in which the ambiguity between public and private, outside and inside, created by the plate glass doors and picture windows of the suburban home, is shown to be reproduced by the advent of television with its concomitant notions of the living room as theater and the TV space as a safe, sanitized public space introduced into the home. (Indeed, although television created fears of a new generation of what we now would call “couch potatoes,” the screen community of the sitcom often seemed preferable to the real-life communities of the new suburbs.)

With Elizabeth Grosz’s article on bodies and cities we return to a more euphoric postmodern take on the relationship between sexuality and space. Grosz moves the discussion beyond traditional metaphors of the “body politic” or the humanist idea that at one time people unproblematically built cities; instead she explores the way in which “the city is one of the crucial factors in the social production of (sexed) corporeal bodies: the built environment provides the context … for most contemporary … forms of the body.” But disappointingly she does not develop this idea, falling back instead on a familiar and arguably exaggerated vision of a cyborg future: “the city and body will interface with the computer, forming part of an information machine in which the body’s limbs and organs will become interchangeable parts with the computer.”

Meaghan Morris’s contribution, too dense and theoretically “over-egged” (i.e., incorporating too many ingredients) to summarize, rewards several readings, and is a serious attempt both at a critique of theories and at an analysis of two specific cultural events concerning property speculation in downtown Sydney. It is insightful and thought provoking; nevertheless it illustrates both the virtues and the flaws not just of the book as a whole, but of the general state of cultural studies. Simultaneously populist and obscure, such studies can become both incoherent and philistine (although the latter is certainly not an adjective I would apply to her essay or any of these contributions).

Indeed, this is a (probably rash) generalization, not a comment on any particular article in Sexuality and Space, but if I have seemed to single out some authors for negative criticism, it is less on account of their specific contributions than because they are the heirs of what for me are ambiguous, indeed dubious, tendencies in contemporary cultural criticism, in which the debunking of Marx and all Enlightenment thought is married (or at least engaged) to a fundamentally uncritical appropriation of Freud (or at least Lacan). I have gone terminally off Lacan since I discovered that, when Antonin Artaud was his patient during World War II, Lacan showed little interest in the deranged playwright3; an illegitimate ad hominem argument, I know—but the grip of his theory on academic critics has always been mysterious to me. Even worse is a practice, which I fear may have been on occasion my own, whereby a critic distances herself ironically or cynically from an assortment of postmodern theorists (Baudrillard, Deleuze and Guattari, even Derrida and Foucault) while simultaneously appropriating their thought, not infrequently in the form of spurious generalizations—a feature, Meaghan Morris suggests, of the work of Deleuze and Guattari themselves in relation to Freud. The whole is then likely to be couched in dauntingly arcane and grammatically tortuous language. Faced with this bricolage, I am totally with Edward Gibbon—who identified one aspect of the decline of the Roman Empire as the decadence of its later literary tradition, when, he complained, “a cloud of critics … darkened the face of learning, and the decline of genius was soon followed by the corruption of taste”4—and I cannot but feel that this kind of postmodern criticism is indeed an index of decay.

But I suppose that postmodernism in general and contemporary psychoanalysis in particular is the theory our epoch in history deserves. Psycho-analysis has certainly been reconstructed to fit; in contrast to the highly moralistic and adjustive Freudianism of the 1950s, which was in any case a therapeutic and sociological rather than a critical tool, we have today psychoanalysis as an ideologically empty vessel, a theory without consequences. A fractured body of thought pleasingly open to endless reinterpretations and deconstructions, a detheorized (or perhaps etherealized) theory, it holds up a (splintered, it is true) mirror to assist in the contemplation of ourselves, one which can be thrillingly seen as “transgressive” while remaining devoid of any calls to action or any social or moral imperatives. Truly a theory for our postpolitical times.

1. Laura Mulvey, “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” Screen 16, no. 3 (Autumn 1975): 6–18.

2. Martin Jay, “In the Empire of the Gaze: Foucault and the Denigration of Vision in Twentieth Century French Thought,” in David Couzens Hoy, editor, Foucault: A Critical Reader (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1986), 178.

3. See Stephen Barber, Antonin Artaud: Blows and Bombs (London: Faber and Faber, 1993).

4. Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1985), 83.

Elizabeth Wilson is on the faculty of the School of Information and Communication Studies at the University of North London; her recent books include The Sphinx in the City and Chic Thrills: A Fashion Reader.

#Joan Bennett #Secret Behind the Door #Sexuality and Space #Beatriz Colomina #Elizabeth Wilson #Desire #FIlm #Postmodernism

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bagadew · 3 years

Text

The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Great Departure (Part 1)

So it’s finally here, The Great Ace Attorney! I know practically nothing about this game, except that it’s a) set in Victorian London, b) has the themes of racism and xenophobia you’d expect from a game where you play a Japanese immigrant in Victorian London, and c) features Herlock Sholmes the himbo detective! (Also I think there might be a cereal killer plot, but I’m not too sure.)

Right away I’m being given a lot of very useful information regarding the historical setting for this game. Unfortunately I’m unable to fully process it because two seconds in and I’ve already been accused of murder!

Oh Ace Attorney how I’ve missed you.

Hello Kazuma! I like the way your headband billows even though there’s no wind, and I hope you have a much longer and fuller life than my last Ace Attorney mentor.

Ok so it seems like we’re both students at the same university, but Kazuma is the protégé golden boy, who’s about to be sent abroad because he’s just That Good. Fortunately I (Ryunosuke) am his beloved best friend, and will therefore be allowed to tag along (which is a really damn good job because I’m the one front and centre of the box).

Say what you will about incredible aura, but I’m pretty sure Kazuma’s just set up some sort of fan mechanism under there.

Hello Pink Lady from the box!

As a seasoned Ace Attorney player I am immediately suspicious of anyone from the first case who isn’t a main character. I’m watching you professor!

Ok so from what I can gather from our exchange the Professor Mikotoba is the forensics pathology professor at the university (I wonder if his daughter, or whoever the pink lady is, will be our Ema Skye), and if Kazuma the golden boy takes our case an loses he won’t get to go fulfill his dream of studying abroad.

Frankly, from all their idealistic chatter about jolly old Britain, I feel like these boys might be in for a bit of a rude awakening once they actually make it to London. And I’m not sure Ryunosuke, with all his beautiful naïve innocence, is going to do too well.

And speaking of beautiful naïve innocence...

No Ryunosuke! Don’t agree to things like that!

I’m beginning to suspect Ryunosuke’s just being used as bait for Kazuma. Like someone out there really doesn’t want Kazuma to go abroad for some reason, and so they’re using his less good best friend to trap him in the country.

Oh Ryunosuke...

In all my years playing Ace Attorney I have never been more torn by a suggestion box. On one hand, the first time I play an Ace Attorney game, I try and play it in the way it should be played. And so, even though this is an UNBELIEVABLY STUPID DECISION, I feel like Ryunosuke, a man who doesn’t seem to have the words ‘Set Up’ in his dictionary, would not even hesitate to bellow I do because Professor Mikiller told him to.

On the other hand this is an UNBELIEVABLY STUPID DECISION and Kazuma should clearly be in charge.

Ok, I’ve decided I’m going to press it (partly because I think the game might punish me if I don’t) but I will have my head in my hands as I do so.

See Kazuma agrees with me.

Oh fuck, the victims John Watson Wilson!!!

Ok, so I’m re-evaluating my assumption that I (Ryunosuke) was simply bait for Kazuma, it looks like I was instead the poor expendable mug who can be pinned with causing an international incident. Is it bad that I feel like I’ve been promoted?

My god, everyone must have had a heart attack when Kazuma the Golden Boy stepped up to defend me. No wonder they didn’t want him involved!

Ok let’s bring out Professor Mikotoba the witness, so he can explain how he’s played us like a damn fiddle-

WHO THE HELL IS THAT!?!

I would like to take this opportunity to apologies to Professor Mikotoba, who is I can only assume a beloved recurring character. I’m very sorry sir but I did not see you on the box. Yes I understand that, as someone who’s favorite character is Gumshoe, this was no excuse. Please forgive me.

Side note though: Satoru’s whole *hacks up blood* ‘It’s nothing, this just happens sometimes, please ignore it and continue’ thing is the most relatable thing I’ve seen so far. As someone with a chest condition whose lungs sometimes just bleed, this is literally the response you develop. I know this guys probably a murderer and that’s probably Crime Related Blood, but for now the two of us understand each other.

Ok, so from that cross examination we’ve got one mysterious lady the waiter says he never saw, one unwillingly received Buisness card from Satoru Hosonaga, and one coughing fit my lungs started after watching Satoru wheezing away.

WHAT IS THIS!!??!!

MORE WITNESSES!!??!!

ON A FIRST CASE??!!!

DO THE SACRED LAWS OF FIRST ACE ATTORNEY CASES MEAN NOTHING TO THIS GAME!?!??

This is a neat mechanic though, and one I’ve been hoping would make it to a cannon Ace Attorney game since the Professor Layton crossover. It seems like we’re just sticking to standard testimony listening for now, rather than checking between reactions, but I’m very happy to see it’s return.

GET HIS ASS KAZUMA!!!

(Kazuma’s quickly becoming my favourite, it’s a lot of fun to have the Edgeworth over your side of the courtroom for once)

Ok, so Kazuma (who’s name my iPad now autocorrects into all caps) has shown me how to examine evidence, meaning that if I had, shall we say, a receipt with the word Maya written on it, I could turn it over to see what was written on the other side.

So, while I now know that Dr Watson Wilson wasn’t able to have tucked into that big juicy steak behind him, I just want to check that business card Satoru was so unhappy to give away...

Interesting...

I don’t know what this means, but it sure is interesting...

Now back to slamming an old man with a stolen coin (that was probably taken by the penniless guy next to him)

I’m not sure how he’s managed it, but Auchi has somehow become the most slapable of the Pains.

GET THEIR ASS RYUNOSUKE!!!

(I like how his desk slam’s changed as he gets more confident)

DAMN STRAIGHT WE’D TAKE ON THE GOVERNMENT!!!

So there’s been a coverup! Well that explains the detective posing as a waiter, but it still leaves a huge question mark over the identity of the woman in question. Other than possibly Satoru, who I can’t see as having any reason to dress up, I don’t feel like any of the current witnesses could fit the bill. Whoever she is, though, it must be someone who’s involvement could cause more problems if she was found out, which would mean that she’s either someone with a lot of political influence in Japan, or she’s someone who followed the good Dr from England (and might well have a lot of influence there).

Either way I’m beginning to suspect that, in great break from Ace Attorney tradition, NONE OF THE WITNESSES COMMITTED THE CRIME!!! (Or at least not this one.)

Don’t worry Kazuma, I turned the receipt business card over this time!

Screenshots don’t do this justice.

I don’t know what makes this better, Ryunosuke’s cheerful mile wide supposition, or the speed at which Satoru cut him off.

...are they Satoru? Are they really?

At this point I would apologies to Satoru Hosonaga, however I feel like he might have been using me as the scape goat for this murder, so I’m going to say that I’m not sorry. (We still have a weird blood related understanding though, and for that reason I am not as hostile as I might have been)

Yeah, that’s fair Ryunosuke.

WAIT WHAT!?!

Oh, it’s just a flash back gunshot. I thought someone had just whipped out a gun and shot the detective before he could say another word!

Oh dear, this goes all the way to the top doesn’t it?

Poor Ryunosuke though, he’s not even made it to the stinky rainy streets of London and already his illusions about justice are being shattered. Given that this is effectively the prologue case, I dread to see what comes next.

HELL YEAH JUGE, WERE GETTING THE KILLER LADS!!!

SATURO HOSONAGA YOU’RE BACK ON THE CHRISTMAS CARD LIST (but on thin ice)

‘So it won’t be a problem?’ Ryunosuke, weren’t you listening, it’s going to be a massive problem! Fortunately everyone else in this courtroom has just decided that you know what fuck the government actually, and so we’re doing it anyway!

Hosonaga’s trying really hard to win me back over folks, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t working.

I like this hardass judge! I’ll send him a Christmas card too.

MADE IT TO THE FIRST HALF!

#tgaa #the great ace attorney #the adventure of the great departure #tgaa spoilers #ryunosuke naruhodo #kazuma asougi #john wilson #satoru hosonaga #japan judge #yuujin mikotoba #again I'm very sorry for wildly accusing you professor

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