#everything about that movie feels so fucking bleak the more i think about it

[yuri-alexseygaybitch]

The meanest thing I can say about any movie is it makes me feel sad and hopeless the more I think about it and that's the way Barbie made me feel

[minakoaiinos]

Twitter getting obsessed with conspiracy theories about where redacted is makes me feel so fucking terrible when there is so much worse going on that people are literally begging you to pay attention to but instead you want to focus on scenarios you made up in your head and play true crime detective

[yeosbbm]

Since Way Back…

Smut | MDNI

starring: toxic! wooyoung x moving forward! reader

genre: smut, reconnecting, exes to lovers, pinch of angst

summary: Wooyoung had a lot on his plate and due to feeling overwhelmed broke up with you, soon after seeing you out with someone else… he realizes he never really was over you..one of his attempts to win you back leads to you and him together in a hotel bed.

warnings/prevs: wooyoung toxic more so toxic in a sense he won’t let go, mirror sex, mentions of drinking, mention of masturbation, praise, dirty talk, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, protected piv

A/N: hey guys this week I haven’t been feeling well so the push it series has been paused, but a yunho fic will be out tmr LOVE YALL ! ciao 🫶🏾

“I feel like this is just what’s best for us you know?.”

Like a scene out of a terrible romance movie, he invited you over and you both drank coffee. The conversation started with a bland “how are you” “where’ve you been” exchange..you knew something was up within the past 3 months. Then he says it..crushing you. You had to keep yourself from dropping your cup and crying.

“I think we should break up..I just can’t pull you into everything that’s going on with me…I feel like this is just what’s best for us you know ?.” You sat wordlessly, biting your lip as if it’d burst. You both got through it, talking it out and sharing a last final embrace before you left the dorms.

He was able to date you through company policy but unable to be seen with you. Having to make you sign an NDA as if you were a painful secret. That with schedules, exhaustion, his mental, and life in general. He didn’t want you to get caught up in it. He didn’t want to press his stress and burdens onto you..and he felt that it was unfair. Unfair that he has to secretly refer to you..unfair you two can only go out if it’s dark out..unfair he can’t post and gloat about you, unfair he can’t love you how you deserve..so he thought it was best to let you go.

It’s been 6 months. You’ve had to piece yourself together. You got a new job as a brand ambassador, you have a workout routine, you go on walks/jogs now, you journal, you’ve been going on dates..though your feelings for them are short lived and still don’t compare to him yet.

“Healing” phase as most call it. Tonight you have another date that you met through a mutual friend.

You have on a black slip dress, light makeup and some cute wedges. You walked into the restaurant and search around for your date. You find him and you both talk and eat. However, it just wasn’t clicking. The conversation felt so one sided and it was as if he cared more about taking you home with him than getting to know you.

And of course, as if the universe wanted to play a funny but horrid joke on you two, Wooyoung walks into the same restaurant. He’s with San and Yeosang..they’re dressed somewhat smart but not anything too loud or else they’d be recognizable.

Wooyoung, looks around the restaurant with its low white light helping with the dim and minimalist design. Luxury but somewhat, bleak. However, something was pulling at him..his intuition made him seek something out. His eyes scan across the space, eyes darting across the many tables and people. Finally as if a blackhole controlled his vision… sucked all of his attention and gaze onto you.

His heart caved in. Seeing you there, your presence and beauty putting him in a state of pain and adoration. A peaceful harmony that gets squashed once he sees your plus one. You’re touching that guys arm..you’re smiling at him ? Wooyoung sees this guy’s gaze drinking you in, the same way he used to. He doubts that this guy sees the things he saw in you though.

Yeosang notices Wooyoung’s stare and his pause at the dining room entrance, “Everything ok ?” Yeosang whispers to Woo.

“Yea yea let’s find the table.” Wooyoung says with a shake of his head beginning to walk off.

San nudges Yeosang and lightly points over to your table. “Fuck..did you know she’d be here.” San shakes his head with his eyebrows raised in mutual surprise.

Later that night, you went home alone luckily after coming up with an excuse good enough to not go home with your date. Then you get a notif from “Kpop News” about an ateez member sighting and realize Wooyoung was just at the same restaurant…

Wooyoung couldn’t sleep that night. He tossed and turned; memories of you kept invading his head.

Your laugh, your love and care, the inside jokes and how your presence calmed him. A painful twinge hits his chest. Your curves, legs, lips..the way you cried out his name and how he’d have you shaking. He looks down and sees the tent in his pants. He had to relieve himself in the shower.

-The Next Morning-

“….Roses..?” You stare at the bouquet that was at your front door and inspect it. It was a beautiful combination of red roses, baby’s breath and black lace bows. You see a notecard stamped to the wrapping reading, “You looked lovely last night, hope you’re well.” You quirk a brow and assume your date was the one who sent it.

“Last night was nice and the roses are beautiful.” You texted and got a quick reply back.

“Roses ?”

You think he’s probably doing a little joke about not knowing about the roses but then you get a text, assuming it’s him admitting to his ruse but no, it’s from an unlabeled number.

“Did you get the flowers ?”

“Yess but who is this ?” Your mind ponders on who could send them anonymously, and which date would go out of their way to surprise you like this. Then it clicks, and your heart stops and you stare at your phone incredulously.

“Wooyoung ? …”

“Can we talk or can I see you sometime.” Sent . Wooyoung put his phone down without the screen facing up. He’s in the middle of a meeting with the members. Yeosang can sense what’s up. “A flower bouquet is bold…don’t you think” Wooyoung quits biting his nails and looks up at Yeosang annoyed. “I’m not getting back with her we just need closure.”

Translating to, he needs to see you again because watching you give yourself to someone else is eating at him. “Closure ? Sending roses is not what closure is,,” Wooyoung shrugs his shoulders, “So ?” Yeo rolls his eyes and begins to rub his forehead. “It’s ok to want her back Wooyo but be honest with yourself.” San reassures while patting his back.

“ You guys don’t understand...that guy she was with….absolute sleaze.” Wooyoung tried his best to hide his frustration.

“That doesn’t mean interfere with her love life now after 6 whole months..”

“Plus you’ve had your share of sleazy girls since then.” San carefully reminds Woo.

“ First of all there’s been one girl and it lasted 4 days max she was rude and showy and full of herself and…ANYWAYS.” How stressed he is has fully became transparent. “I just think she needs someone better and not as lame or boring..(like me).”

“What.” Yeosang clocked the last part immediately, his bestfriend was down bad.

Ding. You replied to Woo’s message. Wooyoung and Yeosang looked up at each other. “Well…answer her.” “Shit. What if she said no.” Woo covers his face with his hands “Then you’ll have to leave her alone.” Woo checks it, and makes a face of confusion. “She said ‘Meet and talk about what.”

You sat there staring at your phone and sigh. It’s not the first time Woo has interacted since the break up. He’d check on you every now and again. It is sweet but would sometimes make your chest hurt all over again.

You’re torn on meeting with him because the chances of you bringing your hopes up and it being a disaster, as well as it being better than you thought but the possibility of getting lost in old emotions and ruining your progress.

Fuck it.

“You have to respond to get a solid answer.” San chimes in.

“Well should I tell her just to talk and something to drink or-”

Ding.

“She- she texted again” Wooyoung stares at the notification appalled.

“…well…..LOOK AT IT ?” San says while whacking Woo on the shoulder. All Wooyoung did was stutter and fumble his phone.

“Jesus Christ Woo.” Yeosang whispers sliding his hand down his face, exhausted from the ridiculousness. Yeosang picks up the phone and raises his brows.

“She said you could meet her, you need to choose the time and place.”

Hongjoong begins scolding the trio of guys for having a sidebar convo during the meeting. Whilst Hongjoong is lecturing them, Woo mentally starts planning for the date.

-The Date-

Wooyoung chose for you to meet him at this newer restaurant. He actually put a lot of thought into the meet. He sent you a dress a few days before once again leaving a note. “Can’t wait to see you in it.”

You were surprisingly excited about the date. You initially dreaded it because you couldn’t tell if when you saw Wooyoung if you’d cry or want to punch him in the chest. Plus the day before the you and your previous date got into a heated hurtful argument that had you emotional. So maybe seeing Wooyoung will help you feel better.

You walk into the restaurant early, needing time to prepare for seeing him face to face again. You talk to the hostess, “Hello I’m here for a reservation under the name Jung Wooyoung.” She types it out on her server, “Oh ! Yes, your plus one is already at the table.” God. You walk to your table and see Wooyoung sitting there.

He looks terribly handsome. You’re hoping you don’t look like a hopeless dope staring at him. You both chirped quick hellos to each other, Wooyoung is smiling which of course, is so contagious you smile as well. You take a seat and can smell his cologne. “You look gorgeous,,I’m glad you came to see me.” You fix your hair a bit and adjust yourself in your seat, all you can do is utter a “Thanks.” Your nerves were killing you and Wooyoung could tell. “Are you nervous..I know it’s been a while but it’s just me.”

You shrug and cross your legs. Wooyoung uses your lack of attention on him to stare at your body. He knew this dress would be the best fit. “Idk I guess I’m not sure how to feel about seeing you again.” You look up to see Wooyoung staring he’s observing you. He quickly grabs his glass and gestures the waiter over to pour you both a drink. “I understand what you mean…I’m nervous too…when I saw you a few days ago my heart dropped to my feet.” You remember the headlines about him being at the same restaurant.

He passes you your drink and takes a firm hold of his. He lifts it up. “But, anyway,, cheers to us getting over our fears.” Your heart isn’t speeding due to you finally relaxing. Wooyoung still looks handsome, flashing his prince like grin towards you. “Cheers.”

- Time skip -

It has been hours and you and Woo were still at the restaurant. Drinks upon drinks have been poured for you both but luckily, neither of you were drunk. Even little phases of being tipsy has passed. You guys talked about everything and reminisced about the past. The physical distance between you closed while you sat directly by him. This is the best conversation you had at a date in months.

Wooyoung was finishing a joke up before you both broke out in laughter you leaning into him and hiding your face in his shoulder. This made his heartthrob and he’s back to staring at you with heart eyes, you’re too caught up in your laughter to notice of course. You two’s laughter finally settles while you both returned to sipping your drinks.

“So..what about that guy…that you’re with.” You look up from your now half empty drink and squint. “Guy I’m with ?…I’m not seeing anyone ?” Wooyoung bites his lip and taps his hand on the table. “The guy at the restaurant.”

The argument you had with him the other day replays in your mind “..yea I don’t think I want to talk about him.” Wooyoung’s hand that’s next to your’s fully slides over on top and lightly squeezes. “If he did anything to you know I’ll ask the guys if-” You take your other hand from your drink and place it on his shoulder. “Wooyoung no, no we just got into an argument..we just didn’t mix well.” Woo relaxes a bit.

“What was the argument about..if I can be nosy…” You want to call his question nosy but you know you REALLY had to vent. “He thought we were taking things too slow, so stupid, we argued at a drive in and I cried. Ugh.” Wooyoung has to keep himself from clenching his jaw and balling his fist, the mere thought of someone talking to you sideways still angers him. “You don’t deserve that at all that guys a damn idiot.” However, through his anger he realizes this is a great opportunity plus when you two were together he’d always use humor + flirting to cheer you up.

“I remember when we argued I never made you cry..except you know every now and again.” Wooyoung smirks a bit. “You never made me cry when fighting what do you mean.” You laugh while trying to remember when he made you have anything but happy tears. Wooyoung leans back, manspreading his hand on your knee. “I mean in bed….”

A flash of heat runs across your face, you can’t tell if it’s from the margarita or flashbacks. Flashbacks of you falling apart on his dick and becoming a pliant mess for him. Tears welling in your eyes from pleasure while being praised by him.

Wooyoung’s eyes are on you and he licks his lips. You attempt to ignore his stare. “Of course that’s what you meant.” You turn your head away and wave the waiter over to bring another drink. Wooyoung is tracing light shapes into your knee and upper thigh, something you haven’t noticed till now and once again..must ignore.

Wooyoung sees the look on your face..it’s a face he knows all too well. When you’re starting to get needy.

“Is he as good.” Woo’s head is tilted and a sly smile plastered on his face. “At what..as a person..no he’s super shallow and lowkey is a fuckboy but..” You pause because of Woo’s chuckle.

“What’s so funny.” You’re smiling but heavily curious. “I mean is he as good as me…does he please you.” You feel another flash of heat, you adjust yourself on your seat and now realize how close you and Wooyoung are in this booth seat. You’re a leg movement away from being propped on his lap. “Mm we never really got to…you know.”

Wooyoung looks overjoyed to know you didn’t let him hit. A grin is now plastered on his face. “It’s not like he could handle you anyway..pussy would’ve destroyed him.”

You both laugh and lean into each other. “No but seriously, it’s not like anyone can do it like me.” You roll your eyes and sip your new drink. “Oh really.” Wooyoung’s hand on your knees gradually gets higher up. “Yes really I mean..I’d have you shaking from my hands alone.” Wooyoung experimentally brush his hand on your inner thigh, you know that this is wrong. Letting your ex get you all hot in public and letting them play with you under the table but. Fuck it.

You opened your legs up a bit more, giving Wooyoung the green light to do as he pleases. He lightly brushes his hand up and down your cunt through the thin lingerie. After some teasing touches he finally brings his hand down your panties.

You gasp and go to reach for his hand but he swats your hand away. “Shhh don’t want everyone to see how needy you are do you.” He rolls and rubs deep circles into your bud and lightly prods your hole, but never fully bringing it in. Your breath is shaky and he starts rubbing your clit faster making a small moan tumble from your mouth. “So wet…did you miss me that bad.”

“Let’s get outta here…..please.” Wooyoung smiles and takes his hands from your panties. He then takes his phone out to reserve a room at a hotel.

-At the Hotel-

You and Wooyoung finally walk into the room, it’s on the hotels highest floor, a penthouse. Wooyoung and you are pawing at each other and kissing fervently. He removes his shoes and jacket and unbuttons his dress shirt. You slide down the straps of your dress causing it to slide down a bit further showing your cleavage.

You and him finally get into the main bedroom. It has a large king bed with blunt but warm golden lighting and a grande body mirror in front of the bed.

“You’re not drunk right ? You actually want to do this..if not I’ll take you home right now..” you shush him with a quick kiss on the cheek. “I do…I’m sober.” Wooyoung nods assured and after looking at you once over ensuring you weren’t intoxicated, he goes in for a kiss.

The kiss is deep, it felt like no time passed between you both at all. The kiss made your knees knock and consumed you with heat, the sexual tension between you two finally being broken. He takes his hands and rubs up and down the back of your thighs and slides the bottom of your dress up to your waist and grips your ass. “Go to the mirror.”

You both step over to it, your dress still pulled up exposing your lower half. You can feel Wooyoung’s bulge straining his pants behind you. Without any hesitation Wooyoung pulls your panties to the side and begins playing with your folds, taking note of the amount of arousal already pooling there.

He wordlessly pumps a single finger in a while maneuvering to play with your clit. You let out small sighs and whines. “Only I’ve seen you like this right, nobody can even get you this wet can they?” He brings another finger in, you can hear your wetness and feel the vibrations of his fingers hitting the right spot flow through you. He alternates between slowly curling and scissoring them into you to finger fucking you without mercy.

Your eyes are closed, too lost in all the feelings. They flutter back open when he suddenly removes his fingers and goes in front of you. He pops the two fingers in his mouth and sighs of satisfaction. Then he gets on his knees.

“Hold this for me baby or I’ll ruin it.” You grab the front of your dress and hold it up for him. He pulls your panties fully down before licking along your slit, stopping at your clit to playfully flick it. Your knees buckle again but Wooyoung places a hand on your calf. “No. Stand and watch us.” You look back into the mirror, your eyes are in a daze and lips are plump and swole from the constant biting out of pleasure.

“None of them make you look like that.” Wooyoung heads back into your cunt and buries his face. Lapping and messily eating you out with no neatness. You struggle holding yourself up and having to see your own eyes sinful look in the mirror. He begins to raise his hands on your hips making you grind yourself on his face.

You look down momentarily and see Wooyoung looking up at you, his eyes giving nothing but a low intent stare. You’re riding his face and he sucks and tongues down your cunt, occasionally bringing a single hand down to use his fingers on your hole.

Soon it all starts straining and you can feel yourself on the brink of cumming. Wooyoung already knew that tho, and stops. Popping his mouth off your clit before pulling away. Before you can protest from the edging he backs you into the bed and takes his cock out. He reaches in his pocket and takes out a condom to put it on.

He opens your legs and begins to rub the tip across your folds and tapping it on your clit making you cry out from the stimulation. “Tell me if it’s too much.” It never was too much. However, Woo was cautious and you nodded. “What’s the color if you want to stop ?” You remember it automatically, “Red.” Wooyoung let out a soft grin and coo’s “Good girl.” then Wooyoung slides his cock in and begins deep stroking. You start to moan uncontrollably, feeling that one spot inside being constantly hit and prodded by his cock. Your moans spur Wooyoung on making him fuck into you harder.

Wooyoung bends your legs to your chest and starts making deeper thrust. He leans down and brings a breast into his mouth, nipping at teasing the bud while crashing his hips into yours.

“None of them can fuck you like I can, can they ?” You struggle to say an answer from the haze of pleasure you’re in. Wooyoung grabs your neck causing you to focus. “Did they ever make you cum baby?” He says in a fake empathetic tone. Finally you control your moans and utter your truthful answer. “ Barely, none of them,,they- they weren’t you.” A string of moans fell from you as Wooyoung’s dick kissed your cervix.

“That’s right, stand up for me baby.” He pulls out which makes you let out a quiet gasp by the sudden emptiness. He brings you back to the mirror and has you lean forward, hands on the wall from each side of the mirror. Your back naturally arches from the position and Wooyoung runs his hands down your back. He makes you look into the mirror. “Look at you, so so pretty I missed seeing you like this…I think about it every night.”

The face you saw wasn’t new..before you and Wooyoung went your separate ways he managed to pull this fucked out face out of you frequently. One hand is caressing your jaw while the other is sensually running it down your back. This bent over position has you anxious for more. “Wooyoung please..I need you.” Wooyoung places light kisses on your back. “What do you need.” You’re clenching around nothing, “Show me how much you missed me.” He aligns his cock at your entrance again and plunges right back in.

He fucks into you once more this time with a consistent rhythm that makes you see stars. You can’t help but get louder practically crying on his cock. He fucks you at a pace all too familiar, your body knew it like clockwork. Then you feel the build up inside crashing down. “Go ahead baby..cum I know you can’t take it.” The orgasm washes over you, making your muscles stiffen and eyes rolled back.

He continues to fuck into you, causing you to be overstimulated and tearing up. Skin slapping and both of your moans and pants fill the room for what feels like hours. You came all over his cock again and then after a few more moments of him chasing his own high, his cum spills into the condom.

He ruts into you a couple more times to ease himself through the orgasm. He hasn’t felt a release like that in so long, his vision is blurred in a sense and he shudders. With the small bit of strength he had left he pulled you close to him and backed you both onto the bed.

After disposing the condom and a shared shower you’re both in the hotel bed nude. Wooyoung laid on his back while your head rests on his chest, legs entangled with each others. His presence causing you internal chaos and bliss simultaneously.

But then, it dawns on you..what if this was a quick needed fuck. What if it’s all the same again tomorrow and you’re back to being strangers. You decide to get your hopes down and not allow them to rise.

“So when do you plan on leaving.” You whisper. Your expectations are tomorrow in the morning he’ll be gone and fade back into the wind as someone you once knew.

Wooyoung gives a puzzled look before shaking his head. “Not until whenever you want to leave..I’m staying y/n.”

“You’re crazy..” you run a hand over your face, avoiding his gaze. He holds you tighter, “I mean it y/n, I’m back for a reason, I can’t let you go…I’ll find a way for the both of us.”

You don’t answer knowing that you’ll short circuit and become another crying mess; tears from frustration from the past few months releasing and how he’s back after months of moving forward. As well as tears of relief and being glad he’s there.

He snuggles you closer onto him and begins whispering sweet nothings and a repetitive “I’ve missed yous”. In contrast of the sweetness he also has a firm hold of your body that screams possessiveness whilst also mumbling about how no man understands you or your body like he does.

Through the silence, Wooyoung can sense you’re still awake, and begins tracing shapes on your skin again. “Before all this what have you been up to.” You laugh from the sudden calm casual question.

“Mm what’s with the sudden interview.” You joke to him with a half smile, already falling asleep. He kisses your forehead and rubs your side.

“I can’t help but wonder how you’ve been babe.”

[omegalomania]

i think what i admire most about this record after sitting with it for a full day is the marriage of its musicality and its lyricism.

lyrically..."nihilistic" is a really good way of putting it. i was honestly kind of floored by how goddamn bleak so much of the lyricism on this record is. there's so much desolation, so much hopelessness, so much struggling to find meaning in meaninglessness. lyrically, i think this might be some of pete's darkest but also some of his best work. there's so much grappling with the feeling that maybe it's all pointless. maybe none of it fucking gets better. maybe you're always going to be fighting to figure out some kind of sense and feeling displaced and the further you look toward the horizon, the more the inevitability of the end scares the living shit out of you.

so much (for) stardust is utterly desolate lyrically. even little granules of hope feel tongue-in-cheek or in denial. so...what? does anything ever get better? are we all just flailing around, trying to make our stupid lives make sense? but at the same time, fall out boy are the happiest they've ever been as a band. they waited five years so they could savor making this record and they were genuinely excited to share it with all of us. pete is wearing skirts and letting his hair down and they're playing songs that once got them booed off stage with fearless love in their eyes and they're looking after each others' mental health and supporting one another through it all. what does it mean for a band to release something this somber at this point in time for them?

the "reality bites" pink seashell speech sums it all up kind of perfectly. so maybe life is inherently meaningless, but at the same time...there's good food. there's beautiful weather. there are still good movies, and the sound of rain on the windows, and hope, and friendship, and joy. maybe there's no point. but that doesn't change that there's still laughter. there's still love.

and that's what's in the sound of this record. the big, cinematic swell of an orchestra. the upbeat chirps of a synth. the screeching of a guitar and some bouncy, catchy goddamn riffs that'll live under your skin for days. this is a record you dance to and cry to. (cry a little, cry a lot, but don't stop dancing, don't dare stop.) sonically, this is a record laden with grit and delight and a powerful sense of purpose, from catchy pop hooks to roaring, cinematic anthems. it sits in delicious contrast to the words but it doesn't undermine them. it complements them. happy music for sad people.

of course there's pain, and there's frustration, and the world is full of tragedy and hopelessness and maybe the worst part of it is that it doesn't go away once you grow up. as you get older, you don't ever magically learn how everything clicks together. you just have to fumble through it and hope for the best, even if it feels like it never gets any easier.

it's a hard lesson to learn. but you aren't alone in it. so what fates do we share? we're all stardust. we all share the same end. we are not alone in our fears and uncertainties and we will not be alone at the end either, not really. we came from stardust and to stardust we will return.

i think if there is a hope i can take away from this record it's like...this feeling that it doesn't get better, really. but you do get better at living with it, and to someone like me, that's vital. years ago i had to come to terms with the valuable, painful lesson that i will not, mentally, neurologically, ever get "better." there will never be a point where i am "cured" of all that i must live with. but i've grown better at living with it. and there are things out there that i'm living for anyway - good food, better friends, and maybe a long-anticipated record you need to put on replay for a good long while as you soak it in.

maybe none of this matters, in the end. but if it doesn't, then this is what matters. this.

"if nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do."

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future In You | 2.2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, enemies to lovers kinda thing, requited love but they’re idiots your honour, smut, pinv, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy / birth complications

…

A little past 1am, legs stretched out ahead of you, draped across Bradley’s legs. Some old straight to TV movie playing, giggling like a couple of teenagers. Bradley loudly voices his complaint as he picks up a m&m that had been thrown at his forehead.

He’s in just a pair of shorts, his hair dry now and his curls a little shorter than normal. Navy regulations. You kind of miss the length that he used to have on the back and sides, but this look suits him too.

“I’m just saying, you’re the one who fucked my roommate.” You shrug, mock-nonchalantly, and pretend to focus back on the movie in front of you. It’s some dumb story of a small town cowboy.

In the mood for dramatics tonight, Bradley throws his head back and groans.

“Before I even met you!” He chides, sitting forwards and snatching the candy from you before you have opportunity to turn any more of them into projectiles.

“Then you texted her after you’d already knocked me up.” You remind him, playfully calm.

“Ah, ah — She texted me, it’s not like I would’ve fucked her again — and let’s not forget that you had a whole boyfriend until you were in your second trimester.” Bradley points out.

“And stop saying knocked up. Makes me feel weird.” Grumbling like a discontented teenager, Bradley nudges your leg with his so that you have to look at his face and see his little frown.

All of that seems so far away now. Ryan. Your roommates, who you’ll probably never see again. Christmas with your family. You’ve barely even thought about it all since you got here.

“I’m sorry, Bradley — how should I be phrasing it?” You tease.

His lips tug at the corners, threatening to disrupt his dramatic frown and disarm his little act. A small shrug of those broad, tanned shoulders.

“All those couples at the parenting class keep saying ‘when we found out we were expecting’. That works.”

“Mm, but when I found out I was expecting I cried for three days and when you found out you implied that I was a whore and offered me money. Our story doesn’t really sound like theirs’.” You remind him. He presses his lips together in a line. That feels so far away now too.

He remembers the anger he felt towards you back then, which is a complicated thing in itself. He remembers why, and how — and everything about that first week, actually. He remembers being so furious at you for making that choice without him. A complete stranger, complicating his future when he had just stepped out of his complicated past.

The anger still makes sense to him. He doesn’t feel it anymore, he isn’t proud of the way he acted, but he can look back now and know that it was all just fear.

Going from being a scared little boy and looking after a sick mother, to being an adult and having nothing to care for but himself, to then meeting you. It hadn’t felt fair to have that all stripped away before he had started it.

But now, when he thinks of this living room being empty, or that small room being an office instead of a nursery, it makes this all seem so much more bleak.

The movie credits roll, leaving you even more confused about what the plot was supposed to be. Bradley sits up and pushes himself onto his knees, then parts your legs for him to dip between. You’re sighing softly now, contented as he presses his lips to yours.

“I don’t think you’re a whore,” He mumbles against your mouth, making you chuckle softly against him. “And I’m glad that I knocked you up, for the record.”

Another soft chuckle. He presses his lips warmly to your skin. Cheeks, jaw. A gentle tour of your face.

“You are?”

“Yeah, you’re hot pregnant,” Bradley beams at you, earning himself another little laugh. “And — y’know, I’m excited for the kid too.”

Looking up at him, your fingers circle over his smooth, freckled shoulders. A few moments of silence pass between the two of you before a commercial comes on and disturbs the bliss.

“Time to put the baby to bed, don’t you think?” He asks. You glance down at your swollen stomach and back up at your new boyfriend. Smiling at him, you give a defiant shake of your head.

“We aren’t tired.” You decide.

A soft groan and he cups your belly in his hands, feeling soft fluttering kicks to unfortunately support your claims. Smile growing into an embarrassingly amused beam, you watch Bradley as he pushes your shirt up and peppers kisses across your stomach.

“Tell him to give his old man a break, some of us have to be up in a couple hours,” Bradley murmurs into your skin, earning himself an applause of his new favourite sound. He looks up grinning at your laughter. “What?”

“You, being somebody’s old man,” A quick scrunch of your nose and a shake of your head, laughter still bubbling through you. “Weird to think about.”

His cheeks redden like the tops of his ears, then he grins. Sitting back on his heels, his hands slide along your stomach to rest at the very bottom. Again, he feels a soft little kick against his palm.

“Y’know, I think he’s nocturnal. I barely felt him this morning and now he’s wide awake.” You explain.

Another shrug, smiling as he leans down and kisses your stomach once more. “Wanted to stay up and watch a movie with his folks.” Bradley muses, making you smile. Absentmindedly, you card your fingers through his fluffy, air-dried curls. His lips press warmly to the underside of your belly, “No harm in that.”

Fingers trailing from his auburn curls, down over the tanned muscles in his shoulders as he peppers kisses across your stomach.

“He’s got you wrapped around his finger already. Old man.” You tease, nudging at his leg with your foot. He chuckles softly, cool breath tickling your skin. Another kiss, then he looks up at you.

“Me? — Mama’s the one letting him stay up late.” Bradley prods, sitting up and bringing his mouth to yours once more. The kiss is slow, lazy, his hand cupping your hip. When he leans over you now, your stomach always bumps into his middle. He’s going to miss it when it isn’t there anymore.

Turning his head, he presses his face into your neck and nips softly at your skin. You hum, keening towards the feeling. It becomes growingly tender, lips replacing teeth, tongue soothing over the warm spots left behind.

Finally, he sits back up and kisses your lips chastely. “Will you come to bed with me?”

“You can go ahead, I won’t wake you up.” You promise.

“I know, but I like falling asleep with you.” He squeezes softly at your hips, remembering to be gentle with your sore joints these days. He sits forwards and kisses your mouth again, then again after that. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that he isn’t going to stop until you agree.

Pushing against his bare chest, he sits back on his heels and raises his eyebrows at you.

“Fine…” You huff, extending your arms for him. Slipping his hands into yours, he’s on his feat with an annoying level of ease that you can no longer manage. He tugs you up with him.

“I’ll lock up.” Ducking around you and kissing your neck, he leaves you with a gentle pat on the ass and then moves to make sure all of the doors and windows are locked and that the lights are off. You pad along the hallway to your shared bedroom and peel your shirt over your head.

Over the past month, you seem to have really popped. The kid is really making himself known in there. Enough so, that you’re well into the stage now of wearing exclusively maternity clothes or stretching out Bradley’s old gym clothes. Tonight, given the lingering heat, you opt for an old basketball shirt that Bradley hasn’t fit into since high school. Before he grew a foot and lost eighty pounds in his junior year.

It’s not huge on you at this stage of your pregnancy, but gives you the reprieve of a waistband pressing into your stomach.

Bradley’s chest hits your back before you even feel him approaching, turning his face into the crook of your neck, almost knocking you over with his weight.

His hands skim under the shirt and up over your stomach, making an all-too-familiar beeline for your breasts. He groans softly into your skin, growing half-hard against your back.

“Mm-mm,” You’re smiling and shaking your head at him all at once. “You need to go to bed, remember?”

“Fuck,” He breathes out, eyes closed, soft skin under his palms. If he pressed any harder into your back, he would knock you onto your front. “I do.”

Your palm slips between the two of you, reaching back to cup him over his shorts, stroking just loosely over the length of his hardening cock.

“Would be pretty difficult to sleep with that, though.”

“You’re such a tease.” He mumbles into your neck, kneading softly at your breasts. He rolls his hips forwards slightly, using your hand for friction on his increasingly hard cock.

“Are you flying tomorrow?” Your head falls back to rest against his shoulder, his lips sucking softly at the curve of your neck. His realization courses through him like relief, you can practically feel it.

His head shakes quickly. “In a classroom all day.”

Your palm squeezes softly around the tent in his shorts, a quiet hum, mock consideration, leaving your lips. His hands push at the shirt, slowly dragging it up your middle and tugging it over your head.

His eyes feel heavy on you, hands trailing featherlight along your sides. Bradley reached out slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder as he takes hold of the band in your hair. He’s especially gentle as he takes it down and turns his face towards your hair.

Illuminated by the soft light of the bedside table, Bradley’s becoming increasingly gentle with you — each time that you’ve slept with him recently, you can feel that he’s being more careful than he would normally be. He knows that you’re sore and more tired than you would normally be, but he never once declines the opportunity to have you.

Today is no exception as he turns you towards him, palms skimming along your back, squeezing at your ass as he holds you against him. Laying you down slowly on your shared bed, he notices your lips quirk softly as he covers your body with his.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You give a small shake of your head and lift to kiss him, still smiling when you pull back. He squints at you, studying the amusement on your features. It just makes you want to smile, is all. Him being so wordlessly soft; knowingly gentle. It doesn’t take a conversation or a warning. He knows your limits.

He knows you so well these days. The kind of shampoo or deodorant to pick up. Exactly which spots to press his fingers harder into when he’s giving you a foot rub. Exactly how to make you scowl at him and melt into his arms moments later when he’s being annoying. Your chest heaves with a particularly deep breath.

Bradley’s lips are on your chest, his hands skimming along your thighs, kneading at the flesh.

“Tell me you want me.” It’s a pant, really, just breathless. He rocks himself against your core, sitting back on his knees and squeezing at your hips. He takes that plush, pink bottom lip between his teeth and just stares down at you with the prettiest mahogany coloured eyes you’ve ever seen.

Teasing at an almost smile, you bite the inside of your cheek to contain it. A soft shake of your head and he smiles back at you. You glance down, watching him palm over the tent in his shorts. Finally, you meet his gaze once more. “I don’t think your ego can handle being any bigger than it already is.”

“It can take a little more,” Bradley hums. He exhales, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he watches his ring and index fingers dip through your folds, gathering your excitement on the digits. “Tell me you want me.”

You do. So badly that it makes you hot. Makes your muscles go tense. Makes your chest tighten.

“I want you,” It’s an admission that you never would’ve given him months ago, weeks ago even. There’s a lot about you now isn’t the same as it was a few months ago. It’s right on the tip of your tongue. I love you. It’s insane — terrifying, actually. You swallow and stick to what you know, “I want you.”

It would slip so effortlessly off of your tongue. When he’s buried into you, breathing hard into your ear, your face buried into the curve of his neck and god — he still smells exactly like him, now mixed with your body wash that he’s adamant he doesn’t steal. So natural, just another breathless, meaningless exhale in the middle of sex.

“You feel so good,” Bradley groans out, his thick fingers sliding along the nape of your neck and up into your hair. He curls them into your roots and flexes his fist just softly. Just the right amount of tug, a gentle pull that has you moaning against his jugular. “Fuck, baby… you…”

He turns his head, lips grazing your jaw and working lazily along to your lips. When he gets there, finally, it feels like your heart is going to explode out of your chest. He kisses you slowly, his tongue in your mouth and his hand in your hair. In your shared bed.

The mattress is softer here and he never wakes up with a sore neck because of the shitty pillows. Sometimes he wakes up with a sore neck because of how his body is wound around yours, but he doesn’t mind that as much. Moaning into his mouth as he fucks into you slowly.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

A breath catches in your throat and you aren’t sure whether it’ll turn into a laugh or a cry. Ultimately, it settles into a soft moan, your breath tickling his earlobe and making him shiver. Then, it becomes a laugh. He sits back on his knees to get a good look at that grin on your face.

Stretching out his shoulders, he guides your thighs over the tops of his. He gives them a soft squeeze and slows down a little, giving a breathless nod. “I mean it. You’re so fucking perfect, just like this.”

He wets his lips with his tongue, eyes trailing ever so slowly along your body, rocking his hips forwards tenderly. Briefly, you think that he’s going to say it. It doesn’t happen. Just more expletives, shallow breaths, eager grunts. More kisses, his hands on your skin.

After, when you’re settled into his old basketball shirt, under your sheets, and he is wrapped around your body from behind, his big palm sprawled out over your stomach — you’re okay with it. The silent knowledge that he must be on the same page.

The next morning, he has to be up before the sun is even halfway risen. He’s growing proficient at doing it without waking you. Showering silently and dressing in the bathroom, laying his clothes out the night before. It always makes you stir when he slips back into the room and leaves you with a chaste kiss on the lips, and a soft peck at the top of your rounded stomach. Still, you’re okay with that too.

You squirm a little, laying back against that perpetually uncomfortable plastic-leather mix exam chair. The gel is a lot more uncomfortable when you’re still hot from the mid-day Florida heat than it had been on those snowy mornings back in Virginia. Still, it’s all routine by this point. The cold jelly on your stomach, comfy pants that can easily be pushed down a little, warm sweater to combat the always high air conditioning.

You’re missing the part of your routine that has always made you comfiest: Jake sitting outside in the waiting room. He’s states away, Bradley’s stuck in work, you’re all on your own. It’s just a routine check up — just to check if he’s breach. You’ve been telling yourself that all morning. It hasn’t stopped you from sitting on the carpeted floor of his nursery and staring at his crib, still in the box.

Your heart swells at the idea of meeting him. You’ve been picturing him a lot recently. Your nose, Bradley’s lips. Soft morning cuddles, sleepless nights, constant diaper changes — it’s easy enough to tell yourself that you’re ready, it’s just more of a complicated thing to be certain that you are. Even if you’re not ready, he’ll be here in a few short weeks. You need to remind Bradley to pick up screws for his crib.

The doctor’s brows knit together, she adjusts her glasses and wiggles the wand a little bit, then looks back to you. “Hm, have you been experiencing reduced movement at all, Miss Seresin?”

The question throws you. Blinking at her, chilled from the whir of the air conditioning, you shake your head. Your throat squeezes. “No, not at all. He was kicking a lot last night.”

Both of you look back to the screen. He’s moving now. Little legs just kicking softly in that familiar black and white hue. A quick glance across, you stare at your sweater on the chair where Bradley should be sitting. It’s too cold in here. You’re not sure if you’re allowed to move to get the sweater.

“Hm,” She nods her head slowly. Her face is calm enough, her tone doesn’t give you any clues. The thought that crosses your mind hits you like a speeding semi. Blunt force, speeding — out of left field. Six and a half months of no contact and all of a sudden, sitting alone in this exam room, too cold, you want your Mom.

It’s clear that you’re panicking, and the doctor continues with as much caution as she can. She speaks to you like she’s trying to soothe a crying child, but it isn’t patronising. Her neatly groomed brows raise at you, “Any fatigue, bleeding, stomach pains?”

“I’ve been tired, I guess.” You squeak. She softens, reaching out and placing her hand into yours. Your throat tightens. “Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s just looking a little bit smaller than we would have expected for this stage in the pregnancy,” Your heart sinks, and the side of the exam table suddenly feels especially empty without Bradley there. The doctor continues on as comfortingly as she can. “I’d just like to run a few tests while you’re here — just to make sure that we’re prepared to make the end of your pregnancy as safe and comfortable as possible.”

As she turns and leaves you trapped in that little grey room with the closed blinds, shutting out any semblance of sunlight, all that you can think about is the first appointment that Bradley ever came to with you. Everything going on back then and how badly you had wanted him to not even show up. How confusingly nice it had felt to have him holding your hand through it. Your head falls back against the exam chair and your eyes burn with tears.

You leave the office with a pamphlet on fetal growth restriction, potential causes and side-effects. It might not be that, she tells you, some babies are just smaller and that’s just fine. They just want to keep a close eye on you these last few weeks. Early delivery is a possibility.

You’re dialing the number out of pure instinct. Flowing tears, running to Mommy — there’s a natural link there. Some kind of hardwired impulse, probably. Chest heaving, blinking back searingly hot tears, you listen to it ring and ring. It’s just a Wednesday morning, maybe she’s at the office. It just keeps on ringing.

Bradley frowns as he listens to the busy dial tone, pulling back and checking his phone. You’d promised to call him when you got out of the appointment. He checks down at his watch. Maybe Jake got a couple of minutes to call you. He has to be back in class. He texts you that he’ll catch you at home and turns.

If his mind were clearer, he might have noticed the stare on him as he turned. The familiar blue eyes, blown wide open. Maverick pales at the sight of the boy at the end of the hallway. Familiar sandy brown curls, a brief look at Bradley’s face. The mustache he had been trying to grow when Mav saw him last has grown in now. Maverick swallows.

He hasn’t seen this kid in almost two years. Not a single phone call or text. He hadn’t even known where Bradley was living after he moved out of the house in Norfolk. And now he’s here, standing at the end of a hallway in a random Navy base that Mav wasn’t even supposed to be at this week. Dressed in his khakis, he’s a kind of familiar that makes Pete Mitchell’s stomach churn.

“Bradley?”

…

@chaoticweirdogeek @alanadetigy @itsmytimetoodream @oldnatgwenaccount @khaylin27 @bioodforbiood @luckyladycreator2 @mizzzpink @cherrycola27 @unordinare @shanimallina87 @marvel-f1-and-more @heli991113 @pauv-0414 @ghxst-heart @momc95 @asteria33 @lilyevanswhore @diamond-3 @galaxy-moon @jostyriggslover96 @forgiveliv @shawnsblue @little-wiseone @lovemesomevesey @alm334 @averyhotchner @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @littlemissobsessedwitholdermen @sunflowerziva @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @bradshawseresinbabe @damrlovq @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @slutfordw

[artsy-hobbitses]

TTB Opening themes by season

Because my head goblin got riled up from that last ask and I am but a mere flesh jaeger. Thought went into this, goddamn thought went into this. 

SEASON 1 (PRE-WAR) Opening: Link by L’arc en Ciel (FMA movie)

Do you remember? Ever since we were kids there was a door we couldn't reach Even on tiptoes Forgetting about time Exhausted with endless wandering This maze we walked Always seemed to be there I can't stop unconsciously Searching for your smile. Not a single thing has changed I would bet on that Even if we were separated by a thousand miles, These memories will connect us Even if we should be fooled by the cruel tricks of fate It won't break us I wish that someday I could see with my own two eyes Our world born again

- Chosen because the MegOP as childhood friends vibes were TOO STRONG look at those fucking lyrics holy shit. Also, it sounds a LOT like OP speaking/singing to Megs! And. very sadly attempting to reassure himself/Megs that yes, they can still be friends despite everything they’ve gone through. He wants to hold on to that hope. 

SEASON 2 Opening: I am just feeling alive by Umi Kuun (Young Blackjack)

I am just feeling alive! The tears… the scars… from that night, Change to new vows in this moment.

This simple heart has simply gone on making decisions, Thinking there’s no way justice could ever exist. But nonetheless, I’m searching for it somewhere in my heart, (Give me Give me One More Chance!)

We only really need one thing we can believe in, always Hey, don’t you think?

I am just feeling alive! It’s a patchwork destiny But I want to try betting on that future! I just want you to survive! In the space between a cruel world and hope, This dreaming heart flaps its wings!

- Chosen for the ‘alive’ theme since OP has basically returned from the dead last season with the Matrix giving him ‘new life’. Also OP still seeking for a better day despite the shit he’s gone through AGAIN, and shifting his priorities from Megs to the team he now has to lead, who he’s determined to keep alive. - Thematic support from Prowl, who’s also learning how to live as a free man for the first time and is likely realising the mountains he’s willing to move for Jazz (and his shifting mindset). 

SEASON 3 Opening:  Unlimited by Nanase Aikawa (Samurai 7)

To understand each other And to share your feelings with each other Those things are like bubbles

Hiding themselves in the grains of time So I have lost all hope Believing it would be impossible to grab them Until I met you

How long have you been carrying This pain inside you? How long have you been hiding That sadness in your eyes when you smile?

If we now embrace the miracle of our encounter And look into each other's eyes, we can become stronger If this is not what is called love Then what is love?

- Female vocals chosen as this season introduces Windblade, Chromia and Lightbright as the Camien Valkyries, as well as Sari. - Fourth and fifth stanzas relating to Ratchet with Drift (defects to Autobots this season), Sari with Isaac (introduced this season, both are part of the main arc) and Windblade with Starscream.

SEASON 4 Opening: Missing Link by Novels (Tiger & Bunny)

I could have reclaimed that torn page Now I don't remember where I dropped it Yet what bothers me most is that there's no beauty looking forward After all, I did have a dream as my spell

What can I hate? My past? Myself? I only wish it could be someone else

We imagine such a future But even if we lose it We'll still be the heroes of our story

And even if the future is bleak So long as we have the present We will write as many chapters of this dream as we need

- The talk of past and futures plays into the Time Travel/Functionist Universe episodes which features as this season’s main arc.  - First two stanzas relate to Megs coming to terms with who he’s become (and the torn page he dropped, ie. his old, hopeful miner self). Also concerns Sunstreaker, who leaves the Autobots after a massive crisis of self.  - Last stanza concerns Prowl/Functionist Universe Jazz, basically Prowl telling F!Jazz that as long as they have the present, there’s still hope even if the future looks bleak. 

SEASON 5 Opening: Rain by SID (FMA: Brotherhood)

The new morning we've finally found Is being hampered by the past What we chased after wasn't the future But the past so full of remorse

The ruthless memories won't stop playing They won't be forgiving us for a long time

It's now that a teardrop Begins to roll down my fatigued cheeks

Will this rain ever stop? I've been freezing for a long time Why does the rain continue to fixate on me? I wonder if it could embrace me

Today the rain falls again Endlessly it falls, knowing no end We nestle close to each other to share the warmth Under this umbrella you gently held out to me

- Chosen because EVERYONE is a little fucked up and tired by this point.  - First two stanzas concern the 12 Primes, the reveal of what Unicron is and how they tie into all the terrible things the the system has done finally coming home to roost in an apocalyptic manner, so to speak.  - 0:28 to 0:32 played similar but much more benevolently w/the 10 Primes choosing their avatar/champion for the final battle.  - 0:13 to 0:18 for massive cast shot which combines Autobots AND Decepticons loyal to Megs who are, once more as they had in the beginning, fighting side by side. 

[synthmusic91]

quick thoughts on past lives (2023) dir. celine song

the movie is very. sparse. what was there was okay, not poorly executed, but nothing was really new. it felt like the movie wanted to send a certain message and pushed the characters through that rather than 1. letting the characters breathe and finding the message that way or 2. finding the characterization that would land them at the intended (and well-thought-out, right? right???) conclusion. sadly this didn't happen. the themes were quite muddled. past lives is a movie that seeks to be more than what it is and thus only succeeds in being dogmatic.

i know hae sung and na young were each other's childhood friends and first loves, but there's an entire life beyond childhood. why didn't they get over each other*? admittedly there might be a bit of a culture difference here, because I've never really understood the thing with childhood best friends that pops up so much in Korean and Japanese media, but. people grow up. hae sung's first love stopped existing when na young emigrated. for a movie that prides itself on pragmatism, it ignores that simple fact that should've been evident a quarter of the way in: na young is gone.

that's pretty sad, but then why was there twenty-four years of grief on hae sung's part, when he's never had to feel the ache of leaving his homeland? was his childhood really the crowning moment in his life, for na young to be the source of so many of his ideals? in that case, this should be a different kind of movie because this poor man's life must be bleak as hell.

also, this is in contrast to nora, who has every reason to mourn her past life IN KOREA. that's what this is really about, isn't it? she only looks him up as a joke (*so my bad, I guess she really did get over him). throughout the movie, the reason for her grief has little to do with hae sung specifically and everything to do with the pull she feels between the US and Korea.

then arthur. we don't see much of him but he poses a lot of interesting questions during that bedtime conversation that nora doesn't give any satisfactory answers to. like, how DOES he make her world bigger? nora's responses either 1. dodge the question or 2. sound like she's lying (because it's out of character given her behavior so far).

those last two paragraphs really solidify it for me: adult nora is a callous person. i don't know if this has anything to do with emigrating, but it really doesn't matter---what matters is that we know 1. she has grief and 2. she clearly hasn't processed it ("[re: being a crybaby] I realized no one really cared, so I stopped."). she's hiding from it!! she's been hiding from it for the entire fucking movie!!!

this is what irks me about a lot of relationships between white men and asian women in general (and in case someone crawls up my ass for this, i don't mean all of them, love is love, or so i'm told)---there's a lot of hiding on both sides. working to bridge the culture gap can function as a distraction from one's own issues. and there's an escapist and cowardly comfort in knowing that the other party doesn't understand how mundane and mortifying they really feel like they are. that's what I feel like happened between arthur and nora. to nora, arthur is evidence that she belongs in the US, and to arthur, nora is someone exotic and unreachable, and as long as they remain like that they can avoid thinking about how mundane their lives really are. arthur challenges this avoidance during the bedtime talk, but nora doesn't let it get anywhere. she is HIDING FROM HERSELF!!

unfortunately, since nora is a self insert, the writer/director doesn't notice ANY OF THIS!! and that's the thing about real life, and one's own experiences. these things don't fit into narratives!!! it's not as easy as recreating a single experience (in this case, her childhood sweetheart and her husband together at a bar)!!! that happenstance was the shell of an effect of a million different factors, not just a boy's tepid and half-formed feelings for a callous little girl. this entire movie is grounded in the ghost of an effect of something that might've touched me but didn't actually.

lastly, making her self insert always get the best grades in her class and also having that guy (who is kind and normal and NOT the deranged stalker that realistically would be the only kind of person hung up on her for 24 fucking years) be hung up on her for 24 fucking years all while she barely acknowledges his existence...is extremely fucking cringe

[wurdulac]

last year i wrote a list of media that touched me. bcs i have shit for memory i was noting down things i watched, played etc. this year. so here's the list.

the city and the city by china miéville - loved it...

the longing - idle game that felt quite promising in the beginning. you play as a lonely shade that has to wait 400 days for his king to wake up. it can get kinda weird and idk how i feel about this anymore.

rain dogs - extremely bleak life circumstances, intense toxic friendship. 'fast food isn't good for you. but i fucking love it'

deadwood - very intriguing way of plotting a story of a settlement but some things abt were fucking stupid and i'm still frustrated when i think abt it. haven't finished the final season and i don't really feel like it.

vanished birds <- read this or else

dungeon meshi - most beautiful art with dynamically drawn creatures and beasts that then get shown being cooked into delicious (and nutricious!) meals in great detail. setting is a spoof of a stereotypical party adventure world but it tries to make sense of its rules and creates in turn something quite unique. great characters too.

wuthering heights - extremely good narrative device. never knew that we learn this story through a tale being told by a servant to some cringey guy. surprisingly well depicted psychology of the characters. reading abt child abuse upset me so bad. society will fuck you up. some ways to better your lot are closed to you based on your gender and race. fucking up people over generations. also moors. they're important.

ghost in the shell

barry - the fact that the show never lets him forget. the satire on show biz, loving the veterans. it's like a more clownish version of breaking bad in a way (both being concerned with morality). characters are caritaturish but everything they do is taken extremely seriously. also it's quite inventive with filmography. solid. loved it.

sangfielle - weird fiction arc of FaTT podcast.. extremely good setting

andor - they didn't lie when they said star wars can be good. abt opression and imperialism.. and droids done well.

repo man - plotted in a very fun way... unforgettable ending.

hellraiser - it was so promising. shouldn't have turned into tense rubic cube solving under most dire circumstances ever imo.

bg3 - the themes have made me insane. it managed to be cohesive. it's the. carousel of violence. cycle of abuse. relationship with power. trusting the other not to use violence against (even though they could). male manipulators. the dark urge. it's not without its faults and it should have been tighter (durge should be the main protag and no tav, chop down act 1, erase halsin)

the terror - such a mixed bag. a very good and tense thriller about imperialistic hubris but. they put a beast there. and the villain was??? idk man.

iasip (well technically i've been trying to watch it for years, but this year alone i watched like 4 seasons or maybe more) - i simply love iasip. its style of comedy that is irreverent. the mad schemes. awful dynamics. touching real darkness.

blowback (podcast) - about american imperialism. first season abt iraq war tone-wise feels like if behind the bastards and citations needed had a baby. recommended.

roadwarden - loved it. loved the setting!

anyway... i kinda stopped reading books after i quit my job (no longer commuting somewhere regularly so i stopped using my kindle). had plans to watch more movies but it's always a struggle to sit down and start watching. went to more than 0 galleries but not that many tbh. i sometimes don't know what to say and most of my comments are still pretty general and feel trite.

[faintlyglow]

PLEASE give me your red valley headcanons!! any of them! I’m starved for red valley, would love to go crazy about it with someone else

hiiii 💛 thank you for encouraging my nonsense. I’m going to use this as an opportunity to think about the lovely Gordon Porlock, secret warlock.

I give a lot of attention to Warren for many reasons including that I’m a sucker for redheads. However! Gordon is the main narrator and his voice and charm are what kept me listening to Red Valley. I wish we knew more about him in canon. Until s3 arrives and either reveals all or breaks our hearts or both or neither, here are some Gordon thoughts

If prompted in even the smallest way, he can discuss everything from literature and movies to music and TV at fucking length. He is such a nerd, and I love that about him. I bet he saw all of the lotr movies in theaters on opening night and everything.

Why is he so alone? No one (that we know of) is asking after him despite all his time stuck at Red Valley. No family, no friends, no partner. I know he’s an anxious shut-in, but like!! So am I lol and I still have loved ones. On that note…

In s1e5, Clive threatens to kill Gordon and make it look like an elaborate suicide. And that threat is so fucking bleak when you realize how alone Gordon is and how there is every possibility that he has no one close to him who would be looking for him.

On a less depressing note, let’s talk about Gordon/Warren. They’re good lads and they deserve to drink beer and play Sonic and be silly.

Re: garden, I imagine Gordon as the type of anxious gay person who almost refuses to let himself have feelings for someone if he thinks there’s no chance they could feel the same. Like, he can recognize that a guy is attractive or that he clicks with them, but if he doesn’t see any indication that they like him that way, he’s not going to pursue it.

As such, I imagine if they got together, Warren would have to initiate it in some way. It kind of breaks my heart to imagine! Warren, who acts like he deserves to be tortured in order to repent for his past, would have to communicate that he genuinely wants Gordon. And in return, Gordon can open up and connect to this person he cares about so much.

It’s so wild to think about how Gordon is, in a way, so much more guarded than Warren is. From another perspective, maybe it’s just that Warren has rarely had the luxury of privacy regarding his personal life. He’s like the open wound of the story, and Gordon gets to protect him, in a way. He’s there to support him through some of the worst things. I can’t wait for season 3, to see how that dynamic changes now that Gordon is the one in peril.

Ahhhhh. This was a lot lol. I hope any of this is enjoyable to read 💛

[illustrious-rocket]

10 Songs, 10 People

Tagged by @blind-the-winds

Rules: list ten songs, then tag ten people to pass the game on to! (bonus points if it's from a wip/character playlist!) 

I hope it’s okay if I bend the rules a little bit because let’s be honest, I don’t know 10 people lol... I’m going to just list some songs that come to mind and talk about them, and I’ll tag someone who I know will have fun with this.

Tagging: @lilliths-httyd-blog

Jax, because you mentioned I might be able to add to your list and Eva came up in yours, I may as well start with filling in the songs from the Rebuild movies, Utada Hikaru’s “Beautiful World,” “Sakura Nagashi” and “One Last Kiss.” The original series’ “A Cruel Angel’s Thesis” was described as “ an anglerfish lure to make you think it's upbeat and kickass, when it's literally an anime about depression,“ and “Beautiful World” could be thought of in similar terms. It plays during the credits of the first two films in the series of four, and both times it wants you to think that maybe this time, the world really isn’t so bad. Shinji and Rei end the first movie finally connecting. At the end of the second, Shinji finally goes fucking postal after being kicked around by his rotten father and decides to get what he wants with his own two hands. Maybe there’s hope that this time everything will be different. Maybe.

Nope. It’s all a windup for the absolute gut punch the third movie delivers. Things are as depressing as ever, possibly worse. And fittingly, “Sakura Nagashi” replaces the upbeat, hopeful sound of “Beautiful World” with a bleak and mournful one suited for the bleak film it concludes. But even then, one sliver of hope slips through - “everyone finds love, in the end” - that reminds the listener that even when things look absolutely hopeless, they will eventually get better. “One Last Kiss” is the end point of that journey, providing the point of view of someone who has survived hitting rock bottom and is managing to move on.

To progress onto some other answers...

The next one has a story behind it. A couple years ago I learned of an (apparently?) obscure late-80s Italian horror movie, Paganini Horror. Directed by Luigi Cozzi (the director responsible for, among other things, the infamous Star Wars ripoff Starcrash a decade prior) it is pretty much what its title implies, a horror movie using the violinist Niccolo Paganini as a central figure. The first red flag was why it came to my attention in the first place - the main characters are an 80s girl rock band, and in their very first appearance in the movie, they’re performing an “original” song that is actually just 95% copied from “You Give Love a Bad Name” by Bon Jovi. Bad enough, but that’s not why I’m telling this story.

Last year I finally got around to actually watching this movie, and let me tell you, it is fucking unhinged. The plot literally revolves around the band needing a new song - because, in a moment of supreme irony, their manager feels the “You Give Love a Bad Name” ripoff is too unoriginal - and one of their members gets into contact with a shady salesman (played with ridiculous glee by Donald Pleasance, nearing the end of a career where he was in plenty better than this film including portraying James Bond archenemy Blofeld) who sells him “Paganini Horror,” an unpublished piece by Paganini.

Dude, I am not fucking kidding when I say this “unpublished score” is just “Twilight” by Electric Light Orchestra with the lyrics removed. They want you to believe a composer from the 16th century wrote an ELO song from 1981. The entire movie hinges on this. The band decides to use the score for their new song and creates a new set of lyrics (titled “Paganini Horror” in the film but more likely called “The Winds of Time” based on the lyrics) and decide to film a video for it in a house where Paganini once lived. Listen to this. Tell me that is not literally the EXACT SAME SONG as “Twilight.” (Warning for the image in that video, there is a skeleton and blood.)

It gets more unhinged from there. It turns out - though not without some extremely unsubtle foreshadowing - that the guy who sold them the score either is the devil or an agent thereof. They sold their souls to commit copyright infringement. Thus, when they go to Paganini’s old manor to film their video, they become trapped due to his curse from when he sold his own soul, and are stalked throughout the mansion by his demonic spirit. Now, you might have looked at that image in that video and thought, wow, that looks awesome. A skeleton with wispy white hair playing a violin with a bow that’s dripping blood?

Yeah, that ain’t true. In the actual movie, he looks like Tommy Wiseau wearing a cheap costume from Spirit Halloween, with a mask that you can clearly see the actor’s face beneath through the eye holes. He doesn’t even kill the way the poster implies; he has a switchblade hidden in his violin instead. Really, it’s just a slasher movie with the novelty of the killer being a famous composer from centuries ago. The concept is so off the wall insane that it’s bizarrely entertaining.

On a similar note is “Crystal of a Star” by Stefani Christopherson, the cherry on the top of the absolutely batshit crazy ending of the 1986 Alien ripoff Star Crystal. This movie is pretty much what you’d expect from that description - it stars by showing “Mars” with a blue sky and degenerates from there. Two whole groups of characters are briefly introduced only to be killed off minutes later before the actual protagonists even show up once. The sets are so cheap you can see that the floors in the spaceship are made of paper and bend under the actors’ feet. The ship itself is ridiculously designed, requiring one to crawl through a network of tubes to go anywhere. The acting is Z grade. The kills, except for the admittedly decent goop and blood effects, aren’t very frightening (they’re all done by a tentacle controlled through puppetry; at one point you can see the hand controlling it.)

None of that compares to the absolutely surreal experience of the last 20 minutes of this movie. The first sign something is about to go wildly off the rails is the fact that the alien, who has used the titular crystal (an all-purpose “computer” that can do whatever he needs of it) to hack into the ship’s mainframe, reads a digital Bible, specifically passages about treating one’s enemy as you would want to be treated.

That’s just the warning. It gets crazier.

With about 12 minutes left in the movie, the two remaining humans realize they need to confront the alien, who has taken up hiding in the engine room of their ship. When they face him, this weird killer alien who has been stalking them and killed their three crewmates.... apologizes and becomes ET instead of a Xenomorph. I’m not making this up. I couldn’t. The alien, GAR, even looks like ET, just having been put into a microwave and exploded first (the puppet used when GAR is fully on screen is admittedly well made, representing his slimy and somewhat ethereal appearance effectively. It’s easily the best thing in the film.) The entire ending of this movie has the two survivors become friends with GAR, repair the ship together with him, eat with him, and even play board games with him!!! He killed their three crewmates, the entire first crew of the ship, and possibly thousands more if he was at fault for the space station that exploded early in the film! And then, after all of that, the ending is born from sheer, unadulterated audacity - a “gravity tunnel” that can get the ship to Earth opens, which leads the humans and GAR to realize they have to part ways. This fucking movie actually has the gall to make the ending a sad farewell to GAR, who is taking another ship to return to his planet, This is complete with “Crystal of a Star”, a sad song that depicts GAR as a lonely space traveler the singer is better for having met. Now, I get they were going for some sort of spiritual thing (especially considering GAR’s redemption begins when he reads the Bible) but when all of it happens in the last 15-20 minutes of the movie, and he was an unstoppable killer alien prior to that point, it just does not land.

Just to knock a few better answers off the list...

I’ve been listening to a lot of the German synth-pop band Alphaville’s music of late, particularly their first two albums, 1984′s Forever Young and 1986′s Afternoons in Utopia, plus last year’s orchestral album Eternally Yours. Forever Young is an interesting one - by the admission of founding members Marian Gold and Bernhard Lloyd they didn’t know what they were doing at the time and made heavy use of machines that could generate music to make up for their lack of skill in playing instruments, yet it not only produced the group’s three most well-known songs (the title track, “Big in Japan” and “Sounds Like a Melody”) but a solid B-tier of secondary tracks (”Fallen Angel” and “The Jet Set” stand out for me.) Afternoons in Utopia shows a great evolution in their sound since the first album - they got more comfortable playing instruments, and the album seems to tell a loose story with a vivid, sci-fi hippie bend to it, using dreams, space and gods as recurring themes across the tracks and employing a gimmick where the first track on the album begins halfway through a sentence and the last track ends with the first half of that sentence, creating an endless loop. “Jerusalem,” “Fantastic Dream” and “Lassie Come Home” are my standout picks, but it’s such a solid album that even “Universal Daddy” - the song Gold has identified as his least favorite from the band’s entire history - is above average despite its silly lyrics.

And just to drop in one more, even though I’m way over 10 by now, I’ll stay in the same era and mention that Duran Duran’s “Save a Prayer” has long been a favorite. Its melancholy tone and lyrics struck a chord with me from the first time I heard it, to me depicting the theme of letting go of worry about what will come in the future to live in the moment, even as temporary as it might be.

(And since the original game asked about character playlists, I’ll answer that despite having long left the framework of this game behind: both “Save a Prayer” and “Sounds Like a Melody” both embody the Matt/Nekou dynamic I envision so clearly they might as well be theme songs, lol.)

[primewritessmut]

2, 13, 42 [Songs for the Zombie Apocalypse], 73, and 80

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

I have tried no fewer than six times to write a fic with a tragic ending (across a few fandoms) and they ALWAYS end up as romance. I frequently joke that I am doomed by the narrative to turn everything into a romance.

Most notably, she's not going to die today had a very different ending that I was aiming for with a lot more Major Character Death than occurs in the finished fic. I like the ending, I do, but I wanted to pistol whip both of those assholes for the direction it took.

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

Taking on a 1k per chapter writing challenge that originated with @periodically-puzzled. He writes such good, snappy chapters, character studies, and dialogue with so few words. And I've always felt a little long-winded so...

It was a huge challenge, of course, but also really fun. I think it's made me a better writer overall and it led to the one fic that shouldn't have a happy ending. ���� (although the ending isn't written yet, so the curse still has time to assert itself)

42. describe the aesthetic of a story in 5 words.

erotic blood soaked trauma bonding?

bleak bloody hate fueled horniness?

Got to be honest, aesthetics are not my thing. But I did my best! (Also, thank you for asking for this fic especially. It's my little demon baby.)

73. how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

I'm not a visualizer which usually surprises people. I'm the person that can only picture fuzzy darkness when I'm reading a story. Not even shadows behind frosted glass just... nothing really.

I much prefer writing to almost any other medium because words just make sense to me. They're evocative (for me) in a way that I think art is (for other people). I just like words.

When I come up with a scene or write a chapter, it's all just words and they just sort of... come out? For a writer, I'm actually terrible at describing my own process. I don't know, I write like I'm holding the words in my hands. That's what it feels like.

No visualization necessary.

80. do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing? if so, how do you go about it?

Listen. I know I do only because people tell me that I do. The number of times a reader or fellow writer has come to me and said, "Did you know that you always [fill-in-the-blank]?" And my answer is no. Every time.

I trust fall into a story, themes and all. But I guess when you keep digging in the same spot, it makes sense that you'd keep unearthing the same kinds of things.

[johannestevans]

watched Hope Springs (2012)

review on letterboxd

You know, Meryl Streep and Tommy Lee Jones have a great deal of chemistry here and they both play such believable characters, and like… On a purely interpersonal level, this is a story about a couple who learn to seek out intimacy with one another again, who begin the process of communicating with one another, after years of letting that work fall by the wayside, after losing the thread of intimacy with one another.

Of course, it's fucking impossible to watch a movie like this purely interpersonally. These are straight people in a straight marriage. Much of their situation comes from the intentional isolation that cishetero patriarchy creates in couples like this in an individualistic society, especially older couples.

There's a moment where Meryl Streep's character is discussing with their therapist going, "[My husband] is everything. He's everything. But I'm so lonely. And I can't help but feel I'd be less lonely alone." and she's entirely correct in saying that - Tommy Lee Jones does not echo the same sentiment, only that he doesn't want to be alone, doesn't want to split up.

Because she's a woman and he's a man, and so much of her expected identity is in being a mother and most particularly a wife, she does not have the same social opportunities or abilities that he does to escape a marriage without judgement, or to explore different and new connections.

Like, this movie is so bleak in places because the decision was made to run with a very limited cast, but in making that choice and not at least mentioning or referencing other friends or community, it comes off in-universe that these two have 0 friends or people around them except for their coworkers, their son, his wife, and grandchild, and Steve Carrell, their new therapist. That's fucking haunting.

There's other stuff to be discussed here, like… Notably, I think, how Meryl Streep's character is concerned about being reduced to a sex object, and at no point does this film dig into the nitty-gritty of WHY these two characters feel the way that they do about sex and about each other - why didn't they communicate in the first place? Why is frank and candid discussion about sex so hard? Why do they fear the ways in which they desire each other and are desired by each other? When the domestic and emotional labour is split in the way it is in this household, how can they explore sex on an equal playing field? Why are they so isolated from other people?

Because to do so would be to address the underpinnings of the cold societal rules they feel forced to adhere to.

Like, this movie is really trying so hard to be sweet and nice and isn't this wholesome, and it's just like… Yeah, it's great that they're fucking again and that they're a bit happier on the surface, but ultimately their relationship is still so unequal, and one side of the partnership is far more vulnerable than the other side, because those power dynamics continue to go unaddressed or even recognised.

Some cishet movies are rife with cishetero ideology, and this one is particularly sad because like… It comes off as utterly clueless rather than intentional, and somehow that's worse and more tragic.

[blysse-and-blunder]

Night of the Living Commonplacebook

halloween ~ 10pm on monday, oct 31, 2022

in the words of your favorite seasonal dubiously scientific monster movies, IT'S ALIVE! that's right gang, this post series lives. i'm resuscitating it, resurrecting it, and maybe myself while i'm at it. building this post up from the skeletons of various incomplete ilcb posts made on earlier sundays in october (16 and 23, specifically), so it's not really halloween themed-- so please imagine there's a nice pumpkiny aroma and/or some spooky music playing as you peruse. and enter, stranger...if you dare.

reading finished or what you will, jo walton, which i began back in august and have mentioned before-- this one was trying Some Things with like, metanarrative and art about art, writing about a writer who was writing, etc. i think i liked those aspects of it more than i did the actual fantasy bits-- or, really, i liked the narrator's voice and role the most when he was at his most abstract. love to have been right when they finally reveal his name (but how could it really have been anyone else?) i liked the random victorian characters, dolly and tish, and the historical-fantasy meditations on firenze/florence, but the story-within-a-story reminded me of margaret atwood's the blind assassin in a way and kiiiiind of just made me want to go reread that? the meditations on a middle-aged woman's life, her past, canada in the 80s, whatever, that was all fun and also...very atwoody. i picked this book at random from my library's available jo walton e-books, and picked her more or less at random as one of a few welsh authors from a list on the storygraph reading wales challenge (which i thought i'd try but it's looking bleak as to whether i'll finish before the year is up). i didn't realize this but she's actually sort of a big name in fantasy, a bit? anyway there's an actual vox piece about this book, which i'm just now finding.

also finished the traitor baru cormorant but i don't actually think i can talk about it. the first chapter of this book might be one of the most perfect first chapters i've ever read, foreshadowing at the same time as it's hitting this incredible elegiac / retrospective tone, and everything that comes after is much more chaotic and hard (for me) to describe. it was...nice to realize that there was a plot reason for the narrative distance i noticed early on, even though it's a hard reason to accept. i think it meant i was also holding myself at a narrative distance from this one, so...in a way i guess i relate to baru over that. also finished a desolation called peace which i LOVED, no holds barred, which swept me along and made the eleven hours i spent reading it (libby keeps track of your pace, helpfully) feel like absolutely nothing at all. i loved all the narrators, i loved that we got more of mahit and yskandr while also having each of those new voices, i love three seagrass so! much! her particular form of blithe, hyper intelligent and hyper competent and perpetually-excited energy, she ends so many of her pov observations with an exclamation point! which you'd think would grate eventually but somehow never did. i also...love cure, the little spy, and would like to give him a hug please. i love the names in this series, fuck. i love swarm! i love that this novel made me look up the scientific name for the hibiscus, and hoot and holler when it is, in fact, mallow!

this is a long-ass reading section (that's what happens when i let myself accumulate a ~back log~ so i'll note for the record that i also finally finally finished the raven tower (ann leckie) and chocolate (joanne harris) and will maybe write more about them soon. placeholder.

watching andor! but i'm not caught up. lower decks! but i'm not caught up. my housemates and i stormed through the newest series of the bbc show ghosts which was excellent, and has definitely left themselves room for a next series (fingers crossed). we also began a ted lasso rewatch, because it's fall and E hasn't seen it (it's basically a prerequisite for living here, at this point). but the real entry here is for the new league of their own series, of which i've only seen the first three episodes, but which has so far made me deliriously happy even though i have had to Much to Discuss with various friends about it. shoutout to lupe, since i am afeared for her (nothing like seeing a tough character scared, her eyes on the mound in the last episode live in my head rent free) and also sort of understand that her appearances might be numbered for plot reasons. between her, max, and greta, is it like...warm in here? a little? just me?

listening hoisting myself out of a music rut with some intentional listening, mainly to the two big album releases of the last few weeks-- not to pit two bad bitches against each other, as the saying goes, but it's been crj vs t-swift and luckily the real winner here is me. both the loneliest time and midnights are...fine! they're fine. they've got moments i like, moments that i've found underwhelming, neither has really hit me where i live in the way i was sort of hoping, but as far as background bops and thematic soundtracks, they're both fine. i think, like with many things on the first listen, i will simply find i like things more, the more familiar with them i become. i will admit to having had antihero stuck in my head at least once, and will similarly drop in carly rae's no thinking over the weekend here because, yeah that's the goal!

i also saw basia bulat live last weekend, after hemming and hawing for days about whether i should go when i hadn't Earned the ticket by Doing the Work I Promised Myself I Would-- do self-imposed rewards and penalties ever work? no? but it turned out okay, i accomplished the thing and this was a very memorable and restorative little escape, it was really cool to experience the full band (and to feel how much more present the drumkit was live, than it is on the recordings-- maybe they let the percussionist juice it a bit--it made some songs i was meh about actually so much better?), the arrangements rocked while keeping the full string quartet as well. swoon. another thing you don't get from spotify, her smile is radiant. her joy in performing is radiant.

playing the second dnd campaign is ramping up in a very cool way, as in, we are in a murder dungeon that is based on historical events which i the player know about (having read devil in the white city) and which i keep making metaphorical eye-contact with @dimir-charmer about but which my sweet lil character can't avoid because she doesn't have that advantage! they let me tune in just over voice chat one night when i had maybe!food poisoning and folks, there's just something special about hearing voices of people you trust yell about a spooky situation!

making i baked like three dozen pumpkin cookies this weekend, many of which will come with me into my department for the weekly wednesday Bake Off (i don't expect to get points but it'll be nice to show up with something to share), plus i cobbled together two different versions of a black cape + black vest + black ram/devil horns + big makeup halloween Look for my social engagements this weekend and was even rewarded with a giftcard to Nationwide Bookstore Chain. keeping up my spotty but much prized tradition of placing in costume contests, begun in second grade-- i love this silly holiday.

working on now that i have Speaking Engagements 1 and 2 out of the way (october has been...fun! like actually fun. minor panics here and there.), hello children it's chapter time. the thing about it is, no one explains to you how to write a chapter? or what it should look like? i have various meetings and prof lunch / coffee / zoom chats lined up all week to try and sort out how to turn all of the stuff i've been saying in public into...written work than can count for my term progress and also someday a dissertation maybe.

[coll2mitts]

#15 A Star is Born (1954)

When life unfortunately imitates art.

A Star is Born is a tale of addiction and fame that has four film adaptations that have nothing to do with the fact it's clear Oscar bait (although Judy did famously lose this one to Grace Kelly).  Did you guys know the entertainment industry changes and exploits people?  I surely didn't realize this until now, and that's why the academy has consistently rewarded movies that talk about how weird Hollywood is.  Y'know.  Cause there's so few of them.

I'm being glib, as this movie is probably one of the more sympathetic views of the big studio system, for all its flaws.  It focuses on Esther Blodgett, a singer in a touring band, and how her encounter and subsequent relationship with big-star actor Norman Maine changed her career, and thus her life.  This film is 3 hours long (it used to be both shorter and longer, for reasons explained later), and it *feels* that long.  For every moment of levity there are 30 minutes of pain, and while this feels tedious sometimes, it does a great job of illustrating the highs and lows of caring for someone struggling with addiction.  They burn so brightly in those small moments when everything is spectacular that it's almost worth slogging through the periods of grim instability that does nothing but foreshadow a bleak future.

For those of you unfamiliar with the story I will give a rundown below.  If you're curious how this 1954 version differs from the other three films, Be Kind Rewind has an excellent video that you should watch after reading this.  Seriously though, check out her channel, it's incredibly informative.

Esther Blodgett (Judy Garland) and the Glenn Williams Orchestra, lead by her buddy Danny McGuire (the adorable Tommy Noonan, who will forever be Gus in my eyes) have booked a gig during a benefit concert.  Norman Maine, a famous Hollywood actor, is supposed to perform as well, but he shows up drunk as a skunk and is having much more fun harassing the cast and crew than he is preparing to go on stage.  While his PR agent Matt Libby has correctly identified Norman is in no position to be in front of people, he tries to distract him by sending him to the dressing rooms to be interviewed.  This works for about 5 minutes until he hulks out and joins Esther and the gang on stage just for funsies.

In the sprit of 'fuck it, we'll do it live', Esther succeeds in getting Norman involved with the act as comedic relief, he gets the positive attention he craves from the audience, and everyone laughs like this isn't a big disaster played out in public.

Norman tries to thank Esther for saving him from looking even more like an ass by trying to get her to go to a second location with him.  Even though Esther finds this strangely sweet, Danny wisely helps her escape to their next gig and Libby takes Norman home to sleep it off.  That would be the end of it if Norman didn't arise from the grave like a vampire at 2:30am to hunt down Esther like she's his prey.  He finds her at a club on Sunset where her and her friends are rehearsing, and oh my god, it's so glorious.

I love Judy's voice; I get goosebumps every time I hear her.  She's such a powerhouse.

Also, FUN FACT: The composer of this song, Harold Arlen, scored Gay Purr-ee, so if you also think "The Man That Got Away" bares a striking resemblance to "Paris is a Lonely Town", there's a legitimate reason for that.

A now-sober Norman bombards Esther with metaphors about her excellence and gradually isolates her from the group by physically dragging her around.  Danny tries to separate them, but Esther leaves with Norman all the same to go back to her place and discuss her career goals.  When she reveals she wants to get a #1 record on Hit Parade, Norman retorts that Esther's dream is not big enough and she's wasting her time paling around with undignified gig musicians.  Esther is only slightly insulted by Norman's blatant disregard of the work she's already put in to get where she is, but buys into his promise to snag her a screen test.  Esther then breaks Danny's heart by quitting the band and asking them to move on to San Francisco without her.  Danny tries to change her mind by suggesting she might not want to trust a flake (no matter how charming he is), but Esther believes Norman sees potential in her nobody else has, igniting her desire to aim higher.

Of course Norman gets loaded after leaving Esther's house and his late night call to the head of the studio, Oliver Niles, is completely blown off as Norman trying to impress some broad he likes.  Instead, the studio ships Norman out to work on his next picture, completely abandoning Esther for 5-6 weeks.  Esther, never hearing back from Norman, moves into a cheaper place and gets a job as a roller skating waitress in an attempt to make ends meet while she attends auditions.  She manages to book a VO gig singing in a shampoo commercial, which helps Norman locate her upon his return because he recognizes her distinct voice on the television.  After tracking Esther down at the boarding house she's slumming in, Norman finally follows through with his promise and lands her a screen test.

This montage of Esther and Norman separating and reuniting is particularly bizarre as it is presented as pages in Esther's scrapbook - still sepia-tinted images with the character's dialogue dubbed over it.  It didn't feel intentional, as some of the scenes are live action, like a car or a bus pulling away from a building, or a shot of a woman's hand dipping into shampoo.  I initially assumed this artistic decision was to cut down the film's length, but the dialogue was still there, so it wasn't succeeding if that were the goal.  I later discovered the version of the film I was watching was the "restored" director's version, as the original wide-release had 30 minutes removed by order of the studio in an effort to cut down its considerable runtime.  Unfortunately, when Ron Haver, the film curator at the L.A. County Museum of Art, attempted to find the lost footage for the film's 1983 re-release, he discovered these scenes were truly lost to time (literally, as they could not find the original film reels).  Their "remedy" included displaying production stills with VO from the audio tapes they were able to locate.  Honestly, I think all of this particular section could have stayed on the cutting room floor, as it's a 30-minute detour that ends with Norman getting Esther the screen test, anyway.  I'm assuming these scenes were included as a way to show Norman struggling to help Esther despite his alcoholism, and Esther's new commitment to become famous.  We get those impressions through their initial interactions, so this not-so-little side-quest truly feels redundant. Later lost scenes, however, such as (spoiler alert) Norman's marriage proposal to Vicki, are pretty baffling omissions. I don't think the cuts robbed Judy of her Oscar win like Lorna Luft does, but it does fuck up the movie's continuity.

Upon Esther's first visit to the studio, the makeup department completely change her look after going into great detail about her flaws.  Norman hates the outcome and redoes her makeup to restore Esther's natural beauty.  Although Esther is nervous, she nails the audition and starts to book small parts, like those that require putting on a full face of makeup only to wave out the window of a train.  They even yell at her when they see her face, which is as blatant of a metaphor for being a woman in showbusiness if I ever saw one.  After the studio changes Esther's name to Vicki Lester, Norman convinces Oliver to cast Vicki as the lead in a new picture after their previous one bailed.  Upon release, the film becomes a wild success, and Vicki Lester's star quickly rises.

Y'know, I really want to take a tally of the percentage of the musicals on this list that feature their white stars in blackface or parody other racial stereotypes, cause it's more than I thought it would be.  Judy's daughter Lorna has mentioned Judy's foray into impersonating other races was "of its time", but I'm finding it incredibly exhausting and lazy that blackface is consistently used as shorthand for being poor or othered.

While the first half of this movie isn't necessarily incredibly upbeat, the rest of it goes downhill from here.  While Norman's newly released movie is getting terrible reviews, everyone is now obsessed with Vicki.  Feeling as though he's done what he could to introduce Esther to the world, Norman tries to leave her, citing he's an too-old disaster that will only drag her down.  Esther responds to this by confessing her love to him, and instead of Norman bailing, they quickly get engaged in the creepiest eavesdropping-est way on the back of the promise that Norman will quit drinking.

The pair first run to the head of the studio because apparently they need his permission to move forward with this doomed marriage.  Oliver gives his approval hoping that Vicki will be the positive influence that helps Norman stay on the straight and narrow. While Libby feels as if they're setting a trap for Vicki, he agrees to spin the story for the positive in order to give Norman some much needed good press.  Of course they exhaust any temporary good-will Libby was extending to them when the embarrassingly-named Mr. Earnest Sydney Gubbins and Esther Blodgett elope to a tiny courthouse to get married in secret.  When they reach their roadside motel honeymoon destination, Vicki hears her new song "It's a New World" on the radio as it reaches #1 on Hit Parade, implying that all of Esther's dreams have now come true.

They start their new life by purchasing an expensive house on a ocean-side cliff, only for Oliver to break the news to Norman that the studio has decided to let him go because of his inconsistent behavior.  Libby publicly plays it off like Norman is pursuing other opportunities, while in reality he's relegated to a house husband, making sandwiches, taking messages, and pensively putting golf balls.  While Norman seems generally supportive of Vicki's budding career, a delivery man calls him Mr. Lester and the bruise to Norman's ego sends him into a bender.  This starts to jeopardize Vicki's career when Norman decides to crash her Oscar acceptance speech by stumbling on stage and publicly declaring he needs a job. 

3 months later, Norman is in rehab and Vicki is on set filming her latest movie.  When Oliver comes to check on her, Vicki breaks down to one of the few people that understand her predicament, as she's both frustrated and scared by Norman's behavior.

Judy serves a heartbreaking performance during this monologue, with many speculating that this particular story hit too close to home.  Judy's life somewhat mimicked Norman's, as she was fired from MGM because of her inconsistent behavior as a result of her own addictions.  She was forced into the entertainment industry before she turned 3 years old, and even as a child was given amphetamines to keep her working and skinny. As she got older those habits became harder to break, especially when barbiturates were added to the mix to help her sleep. Most of her life had been spent earning money to provide for her parents, and then her own family, without the ability to choose if she could keep her pregnancies, or take time off after she was allowed to have Liza, in order to keep the checks rolling in for the studio. After years of constantly working with the help of prescription drugs, Judy struggled with mental health issues that the studio went through great lengths to hide, and the press was ecstatic to exploit.

Judy's husband at this time, Sid Luft, produced A Star is Born in order to cast Judy in this role and make the movie a musical.  Filming was difficult, but both Judy and James gave outstanding performances, as you feel the love between them while the heartbreak of addiction takes a toll on their marriage. Judy and Sid's relationship similarly didn't work out, as Sid confessed it was too difficult being with her.  Judy hated him toward the end of her life as custody battles kept her from her children. If you've listened to any interview with Judy or her kids, she was incredibly loving and supportive of them, valuing her family over everything else. She ended her life completely disillusioned with the same industry that lifted her up, because they were even more gleeful in knocking her down by depriving her of her own voice.

Judy is mostly remembered as a young girl belting out "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", or bounding around with Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire in romantic comedies, but this movie (specifically this scene) shows how underrated as a dramatic actress she was. The end scene of this movie between Esther and Danny legitimately scared the director, as Judy had never screamed on camera before. During Judy's eulogy, James Mason said "she could wring tears out of hearts of rock," and he's not wrong.

Upon Norman's release, he runs into Libby, who lashes out at him in frustration, leading to a physical altercation that Norman follows up with another bender.  After several days of no-contact, Oscar and Esther find him in jail on a drunk and disorderly charge after he crashes his car, and Esther begs the judge to let him come home with her so she can take care of him.  She puts Norman to bed and confides in Oliver she's quitting the business to take care of her husband and give his sobriety a fighting chance.  She has forced herself to believe that love will now be enough, and that Norman can be fixed if she can devote her time to him.  When Oliver protests because Norman's career is through, Esther reiterates she wouldn't have her career without Norman's connections and encouragement.  Unfortunately Norman overhears this conversation from the other room, and takes it upon himself to release Esther from the burden of being his wife by wading into the ocean and drowning.

As much as Esther wants to process her grief in her own time, her good friend Danny pushes her to rejoin the land of the living by attending the same benefit concert she performed at a year ago when she met Norman.  Norman was incredibly proud of the fact he discovered Vicki, and Danny posits he would be disappointed if she threw it all away because of him.  Vicki decides to show up at the shrine, and when she takes the stage to introduce herself as Mrs. Norman Maine, the crowd goes wild.  While they were dismissive of Norman and his disease while he was alive, they revere him and support Vicki after his death.

This is not a movie I would revisit often, as it emotionally takes a toll, but this is an absolute must-watch. Judy's performance proves why she's considered a legend - she's funny, flirty, hopeful, frustrated, heartbroken, and devastated, and all-the-while her voice is a goddamn masterpiece. James Mason similarly does a splendid job at portraying a charismatic and caring, but flawed and proud protagonist. I'm fairly uninterested in seeing the other versions, as I could easily be happy with this being the definitive telling of this story. Judy is absolutely everything, I don't know why anybody else would even try competing with her performance.

Thanks for reading!  If you’ve enjoyed this post, please consider helping me fund this project by donating to my ko-fi :)

[nellie-elizabeth]

Barry: tricky legacies (4x05)

This show makes me wish I was smarter and better at articulation so I could explain what I think is genius about it.

Cons:

I almost wish the episode hadn't included the intrusion from the past at the end, and had instead ended with Barry and Sally and their son just... living their strange lives together. The bit at the end with Cousineau returning from hiding and ready to tell Barry's story, and Barry saying he'd have to kill him, felt like more of a plot gimmick than anything, and I think it would have been cool from a pacing perspective if like... that happened at the start of the next episode, leaving this one in this strange unfamiliar space with nothing to latch onto from the past. It's a small thing, I just thought the very ending of the episode was the weakest part.

Pros:

Something about the way this whole episode was shot and paced and scripted just made everything feel so alienating. There weren't very many close-ups on faces, a lot of wide shots to show the loneliness but also the oppressiveness of their lives. Also a lot of playing around with what we can and cannot hear; murmured conversations that John can hear his parents having through the wall, that kind of thing. I loved the sense of creeping dread the whole thing provided. It was unsettling in all the best ways!

The psychology of Barry as a character is fascinating to me because what you might assume someone would do in this situation was cut the past out of his life entirely. And yet instead of doing that, he's telling John about his time as a marine, in order to impress his kid. He's pretending to be a gentle sort of guy who never gets angry, and he's painting stories of heroism instead of violence to demonstrate the nobility of his past.

And Sally, now going by Emily, is totally detached from the world around her, not even attempting to cross the divide and connect with her husband and son. Her dead-eyed behavior with the creep in the diner, all the way through choking him and then without seeming remorse getting an innocent person fired by accusing him of stealing from the till, the way she talks to Barry on the phone while drinking straight out of a liquor bottle leaning up against the side of the car... her existence is so bleak, and we get so little insight into how she's feeling about things, other than just... bad. There's the parallel that as Barry is recounting glory days to their son, Sally is also caught in the past, watching clips of her former assistant interviewing about her big TV show that's just coming to an end, a show that was meant to be Sally's.

The themes of "clean living" and the religious overtones are interesting, because you get the sense that Barry decided one day what kind of family they were going to be, and then decided to method act his way into making that the reality. The stilted conversations about Lincoln's origins and eventual legacy were a great way to drive this home. I love how Barry quickly pivots from praising Lincoln to learning the less ideal parts of his history, and then goes down a rabbit hole of finding out all the bad stuff that historically "good" people have done. Gandhi, St. Augustine, etc. Like, that's relatable as fuck, Barry. Nothing's sacred anymore.

We end with Cousineau reappearing, wanting to help make a movie about his experience with Barry. Sally calls to Barry, using his real name for the first time all episode, and as John, off screen, asks "who's Barry"? Barry rushes out to see the news article on the computer screen. I did like that this was the moment we saw Sally coming the most alive all episode, when the past finally seemed to be catching up to her. And Barry's commitment to living a better, cleaner life goes out the window when it looks like the past might be catching up with him.

All in all, excellent stuff. The flash-forward at the end of the last episode was an excellent teaser to what turned out to be a genuine eight-year time jump, and now we've just got to wonder what some of our other characters have been through in that intervening time. Hank? Fuches? It's going to be interesting to find out.

9/10

[eightysixed]

Dear diary,

I’m so sad today. Amber was working so diligently on getting me in with T. Like, yeah he knows me and we’re texting but he’s not convinced, I could feel how lukewarm he is towards me. She promised to turn him around, because her cousin is friends with his bestie and they’re in some like, airpods and custom sneakers business together. But anyway, he left me on read last night and I could just tell...it’s fading. He’s not interested. 

I told myself I wouldn’t get my hopes up. Am I still grieving for my old (stupid, dumb, dead) relationship that will never be again, so I can’t fully commit to anyone? I mean, yeah, I did say I couldn’t do any plans with T on Friday because I really was busy. But maybe he took that like I’m not interested, and got disinterested himself. 

Why is it impossible to find one normal man in Los Angeles. Like, where the fuck are they?! I can’t believe my options are nepo children of the Real Housewives and guys who think doing monkey NFTs is a career. It’s so, so bleak. Maybe I should move to Austin, or Houston, or New York, or Calgary or literally any-fucking-where but here. Sometimes I feel like this city hates me with all its heart. I told that to my therapist and she said LMAO bitch me too. Not in those words exactly, but you know, paraphrased. 

Thinking about this one comedian I met like, 3 years ago at a party. He’s famous and in movies but I won’t name him cuz someone could screenshot this blog and send it to TMZ or deuxmoi or some other shitty place like that. I nearly facedived into the drinks table because of the 4 inch butterfly stilettos I was in and he grabbed me and that was the only thing that saved me. I told him, “I fucked up because I microdosed LSD before coming here and drank on top of that and I’m already so fucked up.” He laughed and said, “I haven’t done that but I feel like I’m microdosing LSD just being here.” There were dancers dressed up like giraffes. Bella Hadid was there. I almost dry heaved because I ate the nastiest canape I have ever gotten in my mouth. It was weird hours all around. And we talked a bit on this velvet couch I couldn’t stop stroking and he made me laugh the entire time and now I’m like, damn why didn’t I get his number. 

Maybe the problem isn’t them and it’s me. Maybe my fate is to be unhappy and die alone. I don’t know who’s going to get this house. Can I leave a house to dogs? I’m gonna have to do that, I feel like. Maybe I’ll leave it to Manu. He probably deserves it more than anyone I know. My therapist was like, you need to learn how to feel okay with being on your own, being single. Like...okay bitch?! Thanks for the advice. Noted. I’m gonna do that and heal now. I’m cured. Jk. we all know I could have everything going right and I’d still find some way to hate it there. 

Never getting anywhere with anything, Lb