#florence pugh was done dirty

[justanythingfromourday]

Three Films and a Couple of Thoughts

22.07.23 - 10.08.23

My phone calendar for July was not just marked with bill payments and birthdays but also the release dates of three films, complete with an accompanying reminder that would inevitably light the screen, catch my attention, ensure that I was booking the tickets in time. The films were ‘Past Lives’, ‘Barbie’ and ‘Oppenheimer’. I watched all three of them with my partner, my usual film companion if I’m not watching something with our parents or you, and each of these experiences – Past Lives, 6.05PM show at INOX, Oppenheimer, 11.55PM show at Cinepolis and Barbie, 12pm noon show at PVR – was singular in its own way, for a myriad of reasons.

Notwithstanding the absurdly high prices of tickets where a Rs. 350 ticket starts to look ‘cheap’ (to me, the upper-middle class consumer, with enough liquidity to throw cash even at a coca cola priced at Rs. 360!!), what was it like to watch each of these films in the cinema? Let’s also not forget that all three of these films are, to varying degrees, in English or English-centric (since Past Lives is a mix of Korean and English, subtitled only in English), the implication being that the audiences for all of these will be English-understanding, if not English speaking etc. I think it’s important to note all of these things – the cost, the language, the space of the cinema itself – in the present moment, before diving into the ‘criticism’ / ‘opinion’ portion of my piece. The subtext of all this is: how communal of an experience does the cinema still provide? Who can afford the obnoxiously priced snacks and the reclining seats, let alone the ticket itself? Who has the ‘time’ to luxuriously book a noon time show, in the middle of a work day, or one late at night in a city like Delhi? With the rapidly intensifying need to show more and more ‘content’, as made obvious by the number of screens in a particular cinema ‘complex’ (no longer hall, no longer single screen), the question that also comes to mind is this: is consumption everything?

When I watched the trailer for Past Lives, I felt an appreciative nervousness that seems to be evoked by nearly all A24 films; the subtle promise that this movie, this narrative will shift the way you might think or feel things. After all, a film about a Korean-American woman, married to a white guy, who then runs into her childhood sweetheart, is a film that can open so many doors, invite so many questions, evoke that complex sense of yearning and uncertainty, while attaching it to memory-making and the politics of identity. So I went into the hall with this promise in mind, expecting a complex and touching narrative about love, identity, history…but by the first half, it was beginning to seem that I had expected too much. In the interval, when my partner and I stepped out to get popcorn, we exchanged only sceptical glances and no words, both perhaps trying to let the film run its course, refusing an early judgement or indictment, generous to a fault.

Past Lives is one of the most disappointing films I have ever had to watch in the cinema. Not only did I nearly fall asleep twice in the first half, the gaping holes in plot and the sheer lack of any chemistry, or depth in any of the relationships made me want to pull my hair out. The film seemed to think that unnervingly long, awkward-without-purpose silences between characters is all that a context of tenderness requires – this particular choice irked me throughout. Our protagonist meets her childhood crush repeatedly over the course of 20-30 years, after gaps that are decades long and their conversation amounts to this: did you eat anything today? – UNNECESSARY FORCED SILENCE -  What prize do you want to win for your writing now? – UNNECESSARY FORCED SILENCE - Do you and your partner fight?  - UNNECESSARY FORCED SILENCE – and so on and so forth. If in these year long intervals, they have gained no curiosity about each other nor the ability to hold a single engaging conversation, then perhaps they should stop pretending they’re in love. The absurdity does not stop here, with the pretend-serious quiet that forces the film into disfigured drivel, but extends to all other aspects of the film – the protagonist has a younger sister and a pair of parents mentioned only once in the film, never to reappear or be mentioned onscreen again, the protagonist is a writer who stops talking to her crush the first time round because she wants to write but we never get to see what she’s writing, or what her work life is like or anything ‘writerly’ at all, the protagonist meets her white husband at a retreat and the ONLY conversation they have is where she monologues in the most dry, unaffected manner about ‘in-yeon’, a seemingly ‘deep’ concept that gives literally no weight to the film but seems to be its alleged driving force, before we drift into their marriage that has, again, no depth, feeling, tension, nothing, and in one particularly galling scene when the protagonist invites her childhood crush to a dinner/bar scene with her husband, the two of them start out talking in Korean with her translating into English for her husband before descending entirely into Korean, excluding the husband from the exchange which is mirrored literally by the camera cutting him out the frame. Not only is this absolutely, unfathomably unreal and stupid, they also manage to discuss what a ‘life together’ might have been like….right there, with the ousted white guy sitting somewhere within earshot. How has this not come up before, you know, when they met like 5-6 times alone? How can anybody take their spouse out with an erstwhile crush/flame and proceed to ignore said spouse for hours on end, without any ramifications? How is the said spouse not even hurt a tiny bit? What is the logic of this film? What is the meaning of this film? Is it enough only to put one ‘deep’ Korean concept in, fill the run time with awful, hankering silences and characters that appear to be more cardboard than real people, and put some stringy-ambient music in the background – in order to make an ‘art’ film, a ‘stunning’ cinematic debut?

I call bullshit.

At the end of the film, my partner and I turned to each other and both of us said….WHAT? IS THAT IT? IS THAT WHAT WE PAID SO MUCH MONEY FOR, AND GAVE OUR TIME TO? It was in a senseless, almost slurring kind of disbelief that we walked back home, unable to articulate how awful the film really was, especially because it pretended so hard not to be anything but ‘touching’ and ‘simmering’ and ‘beautiful’? When we pulled out reviews of the film, the disbelief sky-rocketed to another level. Past Lives was a critically acclaimed film, by the measure of most, if not nearly all reviews. We kept shaking our heads, wondering if we’d watched another film, the wrong cut, or if we were just stupid. Was there something we didn’t understand? Were we the ones missing something, and not the film itself? After all, in varying publications and across platforms, it was being hailed as a ‘masterpiece’. And the only words we had for it were: bull-fucking-shit.

.

Oppenheimer was a midnight show, and we were running late, having had to look for parking and the cinema itself - of course we would arrive at the wrong shopping mall first. We missed the first five-seven minutes of the film, but got settled in quickly. A fair amount of time has elapsed since I watched the film so my thoughts aren't quite as dense or immediate - it was an interesting movie overall, with a number of elements that faltered and misspoke. Here's what I liked: the impeccable sound design, often a 'staple' of Nolan's films, the 'character' of Albert Einstein (perhaps acted too perfectly, in my opinion, a portrayal that teetered on the edge of whimsy but never became a caricature?), Cillian fucking Murphy making the most of a script that didn't fully grasp or even attempt to grasp the complexities of Oppenheimer's life or the bomb dropping itself, the popping up of random actors - though after a time, it became a bit tedious. Hello, Rami Malek, is that all you'll be saying?

It's also indicative that the cinema was predominantly 'male', full of tech bros and cishet men that had turned out en masse to rave about Nolan - I am late to the discourse surrounding his films and the women portrayed in them (awfully, poorly, tediously, repetitively awful etc etc) but of course that was one of my major issues with the film. Plenty of reviews about this. I remain unconvinced by a film that leaads up so heavily to a world-history changing bombing but refuses to show us even ONE visual of the devastation in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It's not enough to show us this singular white man's 'guilt' (very sparsely, might I add) - for a film made in this day and age, it certainly doesn't seem to want to reckon with the sheer scale of violence this moment unleashed upon the world. To be preoccupied with 'Oppenheimer' is a lazier, easier choice and still the film meanders in the second half, a little too obsessed with the trial / American politics, rather than the absolutely real time ramifications of the bomb. The film seems almost forgiving, when it should perhaps adopt a more complex approach to Oppenheimer. Don't even start me on the women - that's a whole other shit show. Literally nothing works in that realm, not for even a second, is any woman onscreen remotely believable or real, or even realized as a person. So Nolan has bumbled a number of things in the film - in parts, the film felt likes three different films put together, the editing was quite poor and abrupt, the women utterly destroyed in favour of a boring trial and an all-too-easily-forgiven antagonist, without a moment taken to acknowledge the horror he brought upon the world through his world. Underwhelming and not well thought out, I'd say but I really enjoyed the way sound functioned throughout film. For those raving about the 'cinematography' or 'visuals' - friends, come on, it's alright, it's pretty standard. Some things do strike you but overall, it's just alright.

.

We were on time for Barbie. What a relief. After watching three films with missing beginnings (these two above, and even the new Spiderman film!), I was relieved to see WB ads playing out on the big screen. My partner was very sorry that neither of us were wearing pink - the cinema hall was flushed in said colour, mostly, and I liked how 'extra' it felt, almost exuberant? But at the same time, the company making Barbies now making films about barbies - do we get more meta in capitalism than this? Probably. But that subtext stayed with me.

On first thought, right at the first watch, I really enjoyed the film. I laughed a lot, and I laughed at how much my partner laughed because some of the humour really worked well. Funnily enough and like a small majority, Ken emerged as my favourite character over the course of the film. The production design and the music was very well done most of the time, and some of the writing was very crisp, very intelligent. There were some issues though - many of which emerged in my conversations with other viewers, as well as my partner, as we read through internet discourse, reviews, tweets, instagram hot takes and so on, rethinking many of our initial thoughts. Though Barbie remained very much a fun film, one that should certainly be watched in the cinema, there was a sense that this film was just fun.

A great bit of superficial fun, that did not try to gesture at deeper meanings, nor truly try to break gender binaries (because how could Barbies???? even as there is one radical moment where Barbie and Ken, in the real world, tell construction workers, that neither has genitals, a radicality immediately defeated by how binarised the worlds remain and perhaps the fact that Barbie goes to the gynaecologist, confirming the bio essentialist reality of her as a 'woman' idk). Even the Weird Barbie wasn't weird enough for me - wasn't unsettling enough, wasn't subversive enough, didn't possess any qualities that might offset the 'sweet' 'funness' of the Barbie universe. No character beyond Barbie or Ken were developed, especially the real world mother-daughter pair upon whom much action hinges, but who remain empty vessels, unrealized people with no interior lives or histories, nothing. That one monlogue that has garnered significant praise across the Barbie discourse was quite average, in my opinion - it did not force me to think deeper or did it connect with me very emotionally. In a landscape where we've broken gender right open and are actively trying to collapse boundaries, this film did little in that direction, but enforced these dualities instead. I don't think it even properly examined how patriarchy reduces men and harms them deeply too.

I came across a recent review that seemed to be arguing that Ken should have his own movie - because this movie is called 'Barbie' and it should be only about her!!! and I found this to be quite a reductive approach because if you're trying to examine patriarchy and gender roles (forget race or ethnicity guys, that's pushing it right now) - then we need as many narratives as possible in there, and it was very interesting to see a 'Ken'. I did not feel that he 'took over' filmic space meant for 'Barbie', or that his presence or storyline detracted from the larger narrative - in fact, often, he was the most entertaining, compelling aspect of the film. I love Margot Robbie and she's done an excellent job, but I think the film overpromises - as does much of the discourse/reviewing around it. It's a fun watch, surely and you'll be singing along and you'll love the visuals - kinda made me think of Katy Perry's California Gurls a bit (I could think of other references too but eh?) - but it's a surface level film. You kinda get what you see, and not much else. And that's alright, perhaps, because it is a film by a company that essentially makes these dolls that many of us spent our lives idealizing (and yes, breaking etc etc). So yeah, thanks Greta Gerwig but you did a lot better with your earlier films. Feminism doesn't really need Barbie at the moment, I think.

.

I'm all done here, in a bit of a rushed manner. I also semi-watched this film Unpregnant on the plane but I don't really have much to say except I'm glad I didn't finish because it didn't make me feel anything at all, really. Average, average, below average?

As for this coming month, let's see where the watching and viewing takes me. You know, we're currently watching Good Omens together. Made in Heaven just came out. I also finished Wellmania. Perhaps time for another post, in a little bit. I hope these anecdotes get a little more interesting as we go, and perhaps more critical/well informed.

~ U

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Now that you’ve done your fave looks from the oscars how about the worst fashion from this year’s Oscars?

thank you so much for enabling my hater tendencies. like I said picking out the worsties isn't NEARLY as fun at the Oscars as it is at the Met Gala because people are taking fewer risks in general, so even the "bad" looks tend to be more "meh" than "go to prison," but here are the ones that I Did Not Care For.

first up an obligatory mention of every man who wore a plain black suit. I'm targeting Austin Butler in particular because he didn't even zhuzh it up with interesting accessories like some of his fellow offenders.

Sabrina Dhowre Elba I'm sorry you're very beautiful but you are literally wearing a greenscreen. someone photoshop a tiger on her ASAP. also what's the little knotted detail? I don't get it.

this isn't totally unforgivable but Florence Pugh is serving dirty napkin on the sidewalk. in a bolder color I think I might have enjoyed this?

I feel bad targeting Elizabeth Banks when she seems to have suffered the wardrobe malfunction of the night but it does just look kind of crumpled and unfinished, especially around the hem.

I hate to shit on a man who's actually trying to do something other than basic black but uuuuuh I'm about to do it several times in a row. I don't like Barry Keoghan's sunburst button things, they look like something that would have been cute on the Stranger Things boys circa season one but not on a Grown Ass Man

I don't know who Paul Mescal is but based on this I'm assuming he's headlining a show in Atlantic City

and Paul Dano is giving us "magician going through a divorce who's desperately trying to hold it together through this bat mitzvah because he needs the money"

absolute rock bottom has got to be whatever is going on with All Quiet on the Western Front producer/screenwriter (?) Lesley Paterson. I compared Salma Hayak's dress to an unconventional materials challenge winner on an early season of Project Runway; Paterson's look is more reminiscent of what happens when designers run out of time and send models down the runway in a poorly cut garment held together with staples and hope. genuinely an eyesore I am sorry Miss Paterson!

[jewishbarbies]

Talk dirty to me (tell me about your novel please it sounds really cool)

actual pic of me seeing this ask in my inbox

(putting it below a cut)

the basic premise is the main character is a bi woman with magic powers (think scarlet witch as a visual) who's been cursed with immortality and is on a mission to kill every member of a hate group that are targeting her and all folkloric people possible. she stumbles into a mandalorian/baby yoda situation with a teen werewolf, and is tasked with getting him home after saving him from his kidnappers. she's over 200 years old at the time it starts and is Done with life, but the detour with the kid ends up unraveling everything she thought she knew about her world, in the end changing her for the better. there's a bit of a curve ball though because the love of her life whom she thought was dead, comes back into the picture as a soulless vampire known for the brutality of his kills and she has to reconcile with that (very lovers to enemies to lovers). the main antagonist is a lesbian witch turned evil after the execution of her lover in the tudor period, and she's doing everything she can to resurrect her lover all these years later by manipulating the mc (if you've watched ouat, regina and daniel are a good example of what i'm going for). it's a lot more complicated than i'm making it sound but i don't wanna get too into it and spoil the whole thing lmao.

There's so much about this story that's very special to me, but I've included a lot inspired by my judaism and my journey with life in general, including my worldview and sexuality. the werewolf characters are entirely jewish and i think it'll be easy for people to understand the meaning behind it when they get the full story. (if you want more info on them, i can spill)

the main cast of characters would look like Danielle Galligan as the mc, Milo Manhaim as the werewolf teen, Bill Skarsgard as the vampire lover, Florence Pugh as the antagonist, and Jason Isaacs as a morally grey werewolf.

[septembersghost]

Nobody's perfect. Not even superheroes.

But God, I am so very, very tired of investing in major female characters in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, only to see them meet an ignominious end. Let's set aside the fact that it took 21 tries to even get a female-led film, 2019's Captain Marvel. There have always been interesting, bad-ass women in the MCU — they just keep being done dirty.

The men of the MCU routinely save the day, seemingly with nine lives to spare (not that I'm complaining about having more Tom Hiddleston in my life, but for the love of the Norse gods, how many times has Loki been brought back from the dead?). Meanwhile, the women of the MCU's greatest asset seems to be the most stereotypically feminine of traits: sacrifice.

Don't get me wrong, sacrifice is a heroic quality. It takes a special kind of person to lay down their life for the greater good. But it gets exhausting when that special kind of person seems to be mostly female (thank you for your service, though, Tony Stark and Vision).

First, there was Natasha Romanoff, a.k.a. Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), who, in the quest for the Infinity Stones, sacrifices herself for the Soul Stone, sparing Hawkeye's life. Her justification? Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) has a family who needs him. So what does that say about Black Widow's adoptive sister Yelena (Florence Pugh) or other close friends who make up her found family?

A lot has been written about that narrative choice, and it's arguably the most polarizing death in the MCU. Especially since it came after Natasha's character endured outright sexism for years, particularly in the Age of Ultron, where the script reduced her to her reproductive choices, having her call herself a "monster" because she can't have children. Despite all that, it might've been possible to take her death as a moment of valor that served the storytelling — if Marvel didn't keep recycling that motif to motivate its male characters.

Here lies Gamora (Zoe Saldana), Aunt May (Marisa Tomei), Ajak (Salma Hayek), Wanda/Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen), and the newest addition to the dead fierce ladies club, Dr. Jane Foster (Natalie Portman). And that's not even including the saintly mamas who have died to light a fire under their sons (hi, Thor and Shang-Chi). Or the varying degrees of lip service to female empowerment Marvel has come under fire for over the years.

Sure, a past version of Gamora may be alive in the multiverses, and not even Elizabeth Olsen knows if her character is permanently dead after the events of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. But I bet you can guess how she (maybe) died at the end: That's right, sacrificing herself for the greater good, even after being villainized for "breaking the rules," something her male counterparts do regularly. Sure, Wanda's rule-breaking might have cost many innocent lives, but it's not like she caused a universe-destroying Incursion (looking at you, Doctor Strange) or unleashed a wave of supervillains in a last-ditch effort to get into college (you too, Parker).

Even with all that, it was not until Thor: Love and Thunder that I finally reached my breaking point with Marvel's treatment of its female heroes' mortality. And I had such high hopes! Throughout the press tour, Natalie Portman made much of her return to the MCU being predicated on Jane finally having something interesting to do. The trailers showed Portman's Jane kitted out as a fully-fledged Lady Thor, complete with a winged helmet and wielding Mjölnir (did I maybe cheer more for this than even Steve Rogers proving his worthiness? Yes). What's more, here, she would not only become a hero in her own right, but she'd get to team up with another MCU favorite, Valkyrie (Tessa Thompson).

Imagine my irritation when the interesting thing they've finally given Jane to do is have cancer and die (yes, I know this is a storyline from the comics; it's still annoying). It's pretty evident from the earliest shots of her in the film that she's not long for this world. But it's a real pain in the Asgard that, like Natasha, Gamora, and Wanda before her, she only gets to step into the spotlight just as it's about to be extinguished. There are flickers of hope that becoming a Thor will strengthen and heal her. But for dudes, with great power comes great responsibility. For ladies, with great power comes an expiration date.

When Thor finally forces Jane to stop cavorting as a Thor and seek genuine treatment for her illness, he acknowledges he'll have to try to complete his mission alone. That is until Jane swoops in at the last minute to save the day (and his very well-toned butt), knowing full well the effort will kill her a lot sooner than if she waited in her hospital bed. Just like the women before her, she makes a choice — and that choice is to die for the sake of the world and the man she loves.

There is nothing wrong with this choice at face value. It doesn't make Jane (or Wanda, or Natasha...) weak or lesser than any of the male heroes of the MCU. Indeed, it's a death so noble it earns Jane a place in Valhalla. But it would be more emotionally satisfying if I hadn't seen it so many times before. And if it didn't feel like that, while the men of the MCU get to be arrogant, wholesome, angry, remorseful, and any number of complex things, women's clearest path to heroism seems to be death.

Sure, I want more female superheroes. More kick-ass ladies who I can dress up as for Halloween and cheer on. But not if their only purpose in the plot is virtual martyrdom. The MCU has taken great pains to make its heroes nuanced figures who grapple with the human cost of their adventures; it makes the case that there are many ways to be a hero. Unless, of course, you're a woman. (Florence Pugh, Hailee Steinfeld, Brie Larson, y'all might want to get a clause in your contracts, just saying).

Because women are expendable. We are living in a world where women are fighting for their lives and their rights daily, where misogyny is insidious, and women regularly fear violence from strangers and partners alike. It's easy to feel that the cost of our lives is cheap, that we mean more in death than we do in life. The MCU, intentionally or not, reiterates that narrative.

I don't want a fictional world of heroes where a woman's greatest superpower is death. It's a hill I'm willing to do anything but die on.

-We Need To Talk About Marvel’s Women Problem

[twostepstyless]

ahhh, G!! how was dwd?!

hiii sweets!!! Thank u for asking I’m gonna put my thoughts below a break, no spoilers in my thoughts but just in case xo

Visually, the movie, absolutely stunning, costume and set design put you IN the era so well. All the hype for the costume designer is so well deserved. Now let’s start with the obvious, Florence Pugh is unsurprisingly outstanding. She’s an absolute powerhouse and commands every single scene she’s in. Literally cannot take your eyes off of her. Now for a little note about Harry cause how can I not. First of all, he’s so pretty :(((( in general I think he was good in it, I think some reviewers were unfairly critical of him. Yes they’re all some scenes I think he can be overlooked in but considering this is his first soirée into lead actor and considering he’s up against, fair enough. But i also think he had some incredible moments, the screaming in the car for one, and I think all his silly, loved up with Alice moments suit him so well (I’m only saying this cause I’m manifesting romcom Harry)

I think the pacing of the film is a bit dodgy, it goes SO quickly and has lots of ideas and starting points that don’t really see a resolve. My friend and I came out the cinema and we both said “lots of questions, not a lot of answers,” I think if it just slowed down we maybe would’ve got a bit more from it and maybe focused in a little more?? Idk I’m not a filmmaker but that’s my thoughts. I think some characters also could have used a lot more exploration, Frank and Shelly for one and Margaret’s character especially.

I saw Margaret as being the main catalyst for the entire plot of the store and we got nothing?? I think the story and plot and twist could’ve been described and explored a lot more through her. (After Kiki’s Instagram post I guess we know why- I think she’s been done dirty but we move)

I also think the twist was fairly obvious and once it was revealed it was like a race to the end, I like some breathing room and could have been doing with more of it.

The score is incredible and I think it fits the film beautifully and has you clinging onto every sequence where the music builds.

Overall, I liked it… I think. I might need to watch it again to maybe answer more of my questions but I don’t think I’d pay to watch it again (also because the cinema near me is outrageously expensive haha) when it becomes available to stream or rent on prime or something I think I’d watch again!

[rollingsins]

Love Scenes

pairing: florence pugh x reader

summary:  Florence gets jealous after you film a love scene. Smut. Based on a request from @moonflowcrr (thank you for the inspiration love!) 

word count: 2.1k

warnings: oral, fingering, dirty talk, face-sitting, f/f

You’d done sex scenes before, plenty of them, but this was the first you’d ever done with your girlfriend watching. 

His name’s Ryan, you think, you only met him three hours ago. But he’s shirtless and so are you, your hands are on his back, his tongue in your mouth. 

“Cut,” The director cries out, and you retract from him. 

Florence stands on the corner of the room, her arms crossed as she watches. Your stomach flips at her expression; she looks irritated and you know exactly why. Ryan isn’t exactly the epitome of professionalism. He keeps trying to talk to you in the breaks, flexing his muscles every time your eyes are on him. You hadn’t discussed using tongue either, yet he kept slipping it to you like some drunk frat boy who’d never properly learned how to kiss. 

“Let’s go again!” The director calls out, and you look back at Florence, catching her eye. You blow her a kiss, then clamber into bed with Ryan, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself as he climbs on top of you. He’s not bad looking, you suppose, trying to pull yourself back into character. You press your hands against his biceps, as he angles himself between your legs. 

“Alright, shooting in 3, 2-” 

He kisses you again, slams his hips against yours as he pretends to fuck you. 

You moan, lace your fingers through his hair as if you enjoyed it. He thrusts again, once, twice, until his body goes stiff against you he pretends to cum. 

The director cuts again, and he rolls off you, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Hey,” He says, voice almost a whisper, “I thought this was a closed set, do you know why she’s here?” 

She can only be one person; Florence openly stares at the two of you through narrowed eyes, eyes on him like a hawk. 

“She is the star.” You answer, shifting uncomfortably. You and Florence had agreed to keep your relationship a secret for the shoot, not wanting the entire crew gawping at the two of you for the next three months, “Maybe she just wants to make sure the scene is good?” 

Ryan hums, not quite convinced by your argument. 

“I don’t know,” He says, licking his lips, “She kind of looks- I don’t know, jealous?” 

Your heart flips. She did look jealous, you agreed privately. For an actress she isn’t that great at hiding her feelings, at least not her feelings for you. 

“Don’t be silly,” You say, but Ryan isn’t listening anymore, looking over at her. 

“Do you know if she has a boyfriend?” 

“I-“ You look at him, and this time it’s your turn to be jealous. 

“I mean, she’s pretty hot, I’m not going to lie-” He continues, looking her up and down. 

“Yeah, she has a boyfriend. He’s a big guy, used to be a bodybuilder.” You lie, staring daggers, “I wouldn’t mess with him.” 

Ryan’s eyes widen, “Oh, right. Well thanks for the warning.” 

His fingers are suddenly on your arm, a coy smile on his face. 

“You know, you’re a really good kisser. Even if you were just acting-”

“That’s a wrap!” 

You’ve never been so pleased for a wrap, rolling off the bed ungracefully in an attempt to get away from him. 

“Yeah, you too. See you round, Ryan.” You mumble out behind you, draping a robe around your body. He stares after you as you approach Florence and walk out with her. 

You lead her off the set, and out into the yard. 

“Thank god that’s over.” You say, linking your arm with hers and resting your head on her shoulder. 

She slides a protective arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your head. 

“That guy is an oaf, totally unprofessional.”  She complains all the way back to the trailer, “I’m going to have a word about him.” 

“No you’re not,” You tell her sternly, “I told you, no meddling. I don’t want any trouble.”

“Fine,” Florence concedes, entwining your fingers, “Let’s go back to your trailer, I want to show you something.” 

“You’re not slick,” You tell her knowingly as she licks her lips, glancing down at your chest. 

“I’m pretty slick,” She says with a smile, pulling you into your trailer and shutting the door behind her. 

She presses you against the wall, her lips finding yours. You smile against her, letting your head fall back as she pressed her lips against your neck. 

“It was kind of hot.” She murmurs, lips on your ear, “Watching some wanktard all over you, trying to take what’s mine.” 

Her hand reaches out and she cups you through your underwear. You whimper. 

She pulls your robe open, “Are you naked under this?” She asks, cheeky smile on her lips. You are, she discovers quickly, and it’s not long before the robe is discarded to the floor.

She wraps her arms around your waist, captures your lips with a hungry vigor. Her hands dip down to your ass, squeeze gently, then slink around to your front. 

You moan into her mouth as she strokes you up and down, teasing you. You frown, tugging gently at her shirt. “Off.” You murmur against her lips. She obliges, pulling away from your kiss to lift her shirt over her head. Her nipples are hard, and they press against your own as she sweeps back in to kiss you again. 

“Pants too.” You say, pulling away from her lips to fumble with her belt buckle. She whines and tries to kiss you again, but you withhold from her, wanting her naked against you. She concedes quickly, slipping out of her jeans and then pulling you against her, her lips on your neck. 

You fall back onto the bed, her on top of you, desperately kissing, your fingers intertwined with hers, her knee against you, grinding into you. 

She presses kisses down your neck, onto your chest until she’s moving lower, lips grazing your abdomen as she looks up at you. 

“Where do you want me baby?” She asks, her lips on your inner thigh, smiling coyly. 

“You know where.” Your hands reach down to grip onto her hair, trying to move her face where you want it. 

“Do I?” She ponders, then presses a kiss to your knee, pulling your legs over her shoulders. 

She dips down, and then you feel her tongue at your entrance, licking you ever so slightly. You sigh, reach out to stroke the hair out of her eyes so you can watch her. She looks up at you through hooded eyes, her pupils getting wider the longer she tastes you. Suddenly, her mouth is on your clit, her tongue languid in her exploration of you. Your head falls back and you moan, your grip on her hair tightening. 

Then she stops. You groan, looking down to protest but she’s already kissing her way back up your body, her fingers slipping down to take the place of her tongue. 

She slips her tongue into your mouth, her fingers circling your clit in a steady motion. Her weight on top of you feels impossibly good, her kisses like wildfire. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her tighter against you, your fingernails digging into the milky skin of her back. She likes when you mark her, you can tell by the way her kisses become more frantic, and just as you scratch your fingernails down the bare skin of her back, she slips two fingers inside of you. 

You gasp against her as she begins to rock into you, curling her fingers against your sweetest spot. She’s wet, you can feel it against your thigh, and the thought of her being so turned on from fucking you sends a fresh wave of arousal through you. 

“You like that honey?” She murmurs into your ear, taking it between her teeth.  “Does that feel good?” 

“Yes baby, so good.” You say, burying your face into her neck as she pumps her fingers in a little harder, “Don’t stop.” 

“Tell me whose girl you are.” Florence murmurs, lips on your jaw. 

“Your girl, I’m your girl.” You gasp, your eyes fluttering closed.

“That’s right.” She says, “You’re mine. All mine. Every inch of you.” 

She takes your bottom lip between her teeth, bites down gently. 

“Even when someone else is on you, I’m the only one who gets to do this.” She curls her fingers again, rubbing her thumb against your clit. “I’m the only one who gets to be inside you, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes,” You gasp, “You’re the only one Flo.” 

She smiles, pressing her lips to yours briefly, gently. Then, she dips down, increasing her pace.

She presses kisses to your neck as she fucks you. You tangle your fingers in her hair as that familiar thrum overtakes your body, until you're gasping and breathless. 

“I’m gonna cum, Flo.” You gasp out and she captures your lips in a fierce kiss as your orgasm overtakes you, her fingers working into you furiously. 

You hold onto her, sighing as you come down, letting her dot lazy kisses to your chest. She pulls her fingers out of you, and you feel them against your thighs as she repositions herself, reaching up to touch herself. 

Your stomach coils with arousal as you watch her rub her own clit, your nipple in between her lips. 

“Come up here.” You murmur, your hands on the back of her thighs, tugging her up to you. 

She smiles, settling herself over your face as you lean up to taste her. She’s drenched, the taste of her perfect as you lick her clean, your hands like iron around her thighs, holding her in place. You lips close around her clit, sucking gently and she moans, sinking down onto your mouth. 

You flick your tongue against her clit, just the way she likes, until her breath is shortening, and you feel her thighs contract around you head. You suck her clit lovingly, riding her through her orgasm, until she’s calling out your name. Then, her grip on you loosens, and she’s falling off you and onto the mattress next to you. 

You turn, wrap your arms around her and press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Love you.” You murmur, and she smiles, dipping her head into your neck and pulling you against her. “Love you too.” 

You lay like that for a while, just holding her until a quiet knock at your trailer door leaves you both startled.

“Who the hell is that?” Florence asks, reaching out for your discarded robe. She ties it around herself, leaning over to kiss you, “Don’t you go anywhere my darling,” She says, “I’m not done with you yet.” 

You pull the sheets over your naked body, sitting up to watch as she opens the door. It’s Ryan, you can tell by the look on her face. 

“Oh,” You hear Ryan say, sounding confused, “I um- sorry, I was looking for YN?” 

Florence smiles at him, wryly, “She’s in bed, can I take a message?” 

Your cheeks flame red, and you groan into your hands. 

“She’s - she’s what? Well, can I come in?” 

He steps forward, and you see a brief flash of him before Florence’s arm jerks out, blocking the door. 

“I wouldn’t mate,” Florence says, “She’s not wearing anything.” 

“Oh. Oh.” You can’t see him, but you can tell by his tone he’s gawping. 

“See you later Ryan,” Florence says sweetly before she shuts the door in his face. 

She moves back to you, slipping out of your robe as she climbs back into bed. She pulls you into her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“What happened to not saying anything?” You ask, resting your head on her chest, “Now the entire crew is going to know we’re sleeping together.” 

She dips down, kisses you softly. 

“Well maybe I want them to know.” 

You look at her, stroke her cheek. 

“You’re not actually jealous of Ryan are you?” 

“Please,” She rolls her eyes, “I just didn't like the way he was looking at you. Like you were his for the taking. And now he knows.” 

“Knows what?’ You ask her, already knowing the answer. You like when she says it, the look in her eye when she claims you as her own. 

“That you’re mine.” She presses down, kisses you softly. You hum against her lips, pressing yourself closer to her. 

“I don’t think he knows it yet.” You tell her,  “Maybe he needs to hear it one more time. You know, just so he’s really sure.” 

The look in her eye is devilish as she climbs on top of you. “I think maybe you’re right.” 

[harrysgloves]

In the Middle

Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh

Story Summary: Florence and Harry are smitten with their makeup artist on set. 

Word Count: 10k (dear god I got carried away. I’m so sorry)

Warnings: Language // Threesome // MFF // Oral Sex (Female Receiving) // Unprotected Sex // Spanking (I couldn’t not include this) // Dirty Talk // W | W (obviously) // Mentions of religion (it’s more a metaphor.. not sure how to explain that?) // 

Authors Note: Woooo boy, she’s finally done. Been working on this baby for a while so please comment. I’d love to hear your feedback! Also, the reader has an adopted last name in this... Not sure if that bothers anyone or not but if it does please tell me and I won’t do that in future fics.

>>><<<

It was your first day on this movie set and honestly, you were scared shitless. This movie was so star-studded you were almost positive that you'd say something stupid to at least one of them. That'd be just your luck, your first job as lead makeup artist and you'd let some gibberish crap fall out your mouth. 

You took a deep breath, standing in front of the door to your trailer. Your trailer. It was so surreal, you were finally getting your lead moment, and all you could think about was 'I better not mess this up and get black listed.'

"Gonna open the door or are ya goin' to do makeup out 'ere?" The voice from behind you caught you off guard. You wished you wouldn't have let out the shriek when you jumped around to see the beautiful specimen of a man standing in front of you.

Of fucking course it had to be one of the main actors.

Your face heated. Your cheeks burned hotter than the sun when you heard him chuckle from his spot. His hands shoved deep in his pockets as he looked at you like you were the most amusing thing he'd seen in a while.

"Don't scare the poor girl." His co-star said as she walked up from behind him. Her hand slapped against his chest as she walked past him and towards you. His grin never faltered as you stood there completely starstruck and trying your best to not be a blubbering idiot.

"Here, lemme help." She said as she held out her hand. A sweet smile forming on her lips when you handed her the keys.

"Always make me out to be a dick, love." Harry mumbled to Florence when she finally found the right key to your trailer door. 

"Easy to make you out to be a dick when you are one." She said with a shrug. He rolled his eyes but you could tell it was all in good fun. "If he messes with you, jus' tell me. I'll take care of him."

"Think she's gonna 'ave to talk to us 'fore she goes tellin' on me." He smiled widely as he teased you. Whatever shred of your usually vibrant personality had been completely washed away by nerves. You couldn't believe you were standing in either of their presence.

If only your 13 year old self could see you now. Even she would be telling you that you're a fucking idiot.

"We don't bite." Florence said as she pulled you inside your trailer. Your head nodded because honestly it was the only way to guarantee that you wouldn't say something stupid.

"Unless yeh want us to." Harry teased. Florence immediately shot him a look you'd never want to see directed at you.

"I'm good." You squeaked out. Your bag being quickly thrown on your table before you turned on all the lights to the place.

It was simple but it was completely yours. You were finally the head honcho, the boss, the shot caller. It was all up to you- how the makeup looked, how the prosthetic were applied. It was something you were pretty sure would never happen to you but knowing Olivia Wilde definitely had it's privileges.

You'd never imagined working on The Lazarus Effect would lead to almost a five year friendship with so many great opportunities. Plus, she didn’t judge you for your train-wreck of nerves you had your first day of work.

"So yeh know us. Wot's yeh name?" Harry asked you after mindless banter with Florence. Her head filled with curlers turned to look at you standing over Harry. The foundation you were dabbing on his face smeared slightly as your nerves picked back up. 

You were never good at the talking part of the job. Not until you warmed up to people a bit. You were definitely more reserved of the makeup artist in the industry. You stuck to yourself for the most part and only your closet friends knew how you really were and you really preferred not getting mixed up in any celebrity business.

"Um, Y/N." You said as you sat the makeup brush down on your table before moving to start taking the curlers out of Florence's silky blonde hair. The perfectly formed curls bounced out, your fingers ran through them to diffuse them a bit. 

"Been doing this long?" She asked as you busied yourself with hair. Trying your best to not pull or tug on it too hard and hurting her on accident.

"Not long." You said, the nerves you had dissipated a bit when you talked about something that you enjoyed doing. "Five years but I mostly did low budget horror films."

"Step up from that then, innit?" Harry asked, both their eyes burned into you. Your face immediately heated again at the attention.

"A bit." You said as you finally took the last roller out of Florence's hair. You were so close to being done and getting away from everybody long enough for your anxiety to let up. "First movie I get to be in charge of the makeup department."

"Explains the nerves." Florence hummed out as she sat up in the chair, fluffing her own hair a bit as she examined your work.

"Yeah, sorry about earlier. I get a little lost in the mornings without coffee." You paid close attention to them both smiling at you. Somehow feeling like you were missing a joke until they both spoke at the same time.

"You should do tea instead."

"Never going to happen. I need my coffee to function." You said pointedly, knowing deep in your heart that you would forever be a coffee lover. 

"No way." Florence scoffed but you didn't miss that hint of a smirk on her lips as she looked towards Harry.

"'Aven't had the right tea."

"I'm not abandoning my one true love like that." You said with your arms crossed over your chest.

"Boyfriend doesn't get mad that coffee is your one true love?" Florence asked while Harry nodded his head in agreement. 

You couldn't help the laugh that left your. A fit of giggles you didn't think you'd be letting out near them any time soon or ever. Your hand came up to tell them to give you a second to compose yourself. Their eyes moved back and forth between each other and you, confusion clearly etched into their expressions.

"You really think me, who couldn't even open the door this morning, is out hitting on people? Honestly, that's the best compliment I've ever gotten." You said as you turned back around to sit down the rest of the curlers in your hands. Random giggles still escaping from you as you shook your head in disbelief. 

"They could've came onto yeh." Harry said like he was trying to figure you out. Another burst of laughter came from you when you turned back around, hands on your hips as you looked at both the ungodly beautiful people in front of you.

"I'm not really the type that attracts attention but really this was a great confidence booster." You smiled at them, whatever words both of them were about to say was interrupted by the knock on the trailer door.

"Hey, you guys are needed on set." Some assistant said quickly before walking away from the trailer. 

"Guess we gotta go. We'll see you in a bit." Florence smiled brightly at you before turning and walking out the door with a cute bounce in her step.

"See yeh, love." Harry mumbled, his hand ran through his thick brown curls that you'd spent too much time styling for no reason. He followed her out the door. His long confidant strides quickly caught up with Florence. His arm around her shoulder talking to her as you shut the door.

Maybe working with them wouldn't be so bad. Maybe you'd even learn how to not be a total mess around famous people or maybe you could even make new friends. It was a nice thought you decided, they both seemed genuinely nice to you and you could always use new connections to get yourself out there a bit more.

>>>

It only took 4 hours and a shit ton of retouches on everyone's makeup to finally get to your break for the day. Your feet were sore, your whole body felt like it'd been beat up, and you still hadn't had any caffeine. If you didn't get any in you soon you'd be cast in the next remake of Godzilla.

You quickly jumped at the opportunity to run like the wind when it was announced it was lunch time. Your sprint towards freedom was stopped at the sound of your name being called out. You groaned quietly to yourself, cursing whatever god out there for hating you this much. 

All you wanted was a damn coffee, was that too much to ask for?! You didn't think so, but apparently, someone out in the universe had it out for you today. 

Fast footsteps sounded from behind you as you stood in your spot. Yes, you were making them come to you because fuck them for not realizing lunch time meant you didn't want to chitchat.

"Wanna grab lunch with us?" Her voice rang from behind you, making you feel like such an asshole for making her walk to you.

You turned around to see the group of people she wanted you to have lunch with. Which included everyone from the set. Not just her and Harry, everyone. 

Your eyes widened as you looked at all of them. There was no way you could fake it through lunch with all those people you didn't know looking at you. Expecting you to be able to answer simple questions about yourself. Being able to carry on a semi decent conversation. You were exhausted at the mere thought of trying to not seem like a total nutcase for an entire hour. 

"Thanks but I think I'm going to put on a pot of coffee in my trailer." You said as your eyes moved away from the crowd of people back to her. Her face couldn't hide emotions even in the slightest bit. Her eyebrows furrowed, lips rolled into her mouth, trying to not look disappointed but you could see the hint of it lingering behind her eyes.

"Sure. Have a good lunch." She said in a soft voice that made your heart feel like it was getting ripped out of your chest. 

You stood and watched long enough to see her shaking her head at Harry. His arm around her shoulder as he frowned down at her before looking up to you. A soft smile across his lips before he bent down to say something lowly in Florence's ear.

You turned on the spot and headed for your trailer. A sigh of relief left you the second the door closed. You were always the type that needed recharge time. You had to be alone for a bit here and there during the day so you could unwind. Wash all the anxiety from being around people off you.

You hit the playlist you had saved on your phone as your chill out music. The coffee pot in your trailer gurgled in the background over your music. The slow soft beats filled the air around you. Swirling beautiful with the scent of the coffee.

You lived for this shit. 

"Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise.

Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies."

You were at the best moment, the cup of coffee in your hand, your voice echoing the words of the song you had a slight obsession with when a knock came from your door.

"Shit!" You yelled when the coffee from your cup splashed out at your knee-jerk reaction to the interruptive knock. The hot liquid barely missed you but still… you could cry over spilled coffee, right?

You threw down a towel you had in arms reach on the floor before scurrying to the door. Hoping it was Olivia here to tell you that she decided to go in a different direction and needed to replace you as head makeup artist.

"Scares like a cat." Harry said more to Florence than you when your head poked out of the door. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile forming on your lips. 

"You made me spill my coffee." You said with a fake pout. Harry's eye brightened as his dimpled smile came across his face. 

"Good, we brought you something better." Florence chimed in, a cup of something that definitely wasn't coffee in her hand was now glaring at you. A bag of take out boxes in another.

"Ew." You scrunched your nose as you looked at the offensive cup. Your hand finally opened the door enough for them both to slip in.

"You guys didn't have to bring me lunch." You brows furrowed. Why were they being so nice to you? You had no idea. You weren't really the friendly type, not until you warmed up to people at least.

"Noticed yeh didn't 'ave lunch with yeh. Can't run on coffee and no food." Harry shrugged slightly. Like it wasn't a big deal that they somehow managed to notice you had no lunch with you that day. Your confusion grew more by the second. Maybe this was how people became friends? You weren't entirely sure.

"Love this song." Harry muttered before he plopped down on the love-seat in your trailer. His feet kicked up on the coffee table, obviously making himself at home in your space. 

"It's a good one but nothing tops 'Dreams'." You said as you took a seat on one of your makeup chairs, Florence sat on the other side of Harry.

"You two have the same bad taste in music." She groaned as she fished out the first take out box from the bag she had in her hand. Your shocked gasp made her pause.

"How dare you say that about our Lord and Savior, Stevie Nicks. You should be ashamed of yourself." Your dramatic voice and Harry's laughter of agreement made her roll her eyes at you both. Quickly going back to unpacking the bag they brought for all three of you.

"Want us to turn on 'Wonderwall' for you?" You asked through a voice cracked with laughter. Her green eyes immediately snapped to yours, narrowing at you.

"Fuckin' hell, that was a good one." Harry mumbled out, his arm wrapped around her as he smiled widely at her fake pouting.

"See if I bring you lunch ever again." She mumbled under her breath. Finally done unloading the three take out boxes and all the utensils out of the bag. 

You gave her a fake pout. Her eyes rolled when she handed you the box. You were too curious for your own good most of the time, right now though, you were scared to open this box and some weird ass Hollywood "lunch" would be staring back at you.

Harry's amused eyes kept meeting yours when you'd look up from your box to whatever the hell they were eating. Nothing but rabbit food and not the good kind either, whatever they were managing to shovel down their throats smelled like rotten eggs. You were trying your best to not be a whiny brat about getting free lunch when you heard Harry let out a chuckle from his side of the room. Florence immediately looked up to see you staring blankly at the box in front of you.

"Gonna open it up, kitten?" Harry asked with an infuriating smug smile on his lips. Your eyes rolled at the nickname but you couldn't deny it stirred something in you.

"We didn’t get you steamed kale." Florence giggled when the sigh of relief left you. 

"Thank fuck. I thought I was going to have to gag that crap down." You smiled when you opened the box. A plate of harmless looking pasta sat in front of you. All the carbs and wonderful goodness in the world that you absolutely adored. 

Leave the healthy shit for them, you thought.

"Wait!" She yelled from across the room, you jumped slightly at the loud sound making Harry laugh. "Got to try this first."

"No way. I'd rather eat the stinky kale then whatever's in this." You tried to push your hand away from the drink she was adamantly trying to hand you. 

"Come on. Jus' fo' fun, yeah? Never 'ave to try anything new again with us if yeh don't like it." Harry said. Florence head snapped around to him quickly before looking back at you. A curt nod of her soft blonde curls told you she agreed with him.

You took the cup from her. Cautiously opening the lid to peak at the color of the drink. A bright green color stared back at you. Your nose scrunched up at the sight but the smell wasn't the worst, not compared to the steamed green leaves the other two were eating. 

"Bottoms up. If I die, tell my parents I was forced to drink this." You mumbled out right before downing half the cup of cold green liquid. You hoped if you chugged it the way you did cheap beer when you were 19 would mean you wouldn't taste it much.

You were wrong but surprisingly you were thankfully you got a good taste because it was fucking delicious.

Your eyes brightened when you took the next sip. Slower this time to actually enjoy the drink. 

"Told yeh she'd like it." Harry said with a smug smile across his face. The look of triumph directed toward Florence who pushed his shoulder with her own at his comment.

"Sod off, Harold."

"This is really good." You said in between drinks. A very prominent caffeine buzz started to hit you by the time you'd finished the last drop.

"Got more caffeine too." Harry smiled brightly. Florence rolled her eyes as she stabbed a piece of kale with her fork.

"Yeah, well, the pasta was my idea and I'm sure she'll love it." She grumbled like it was some sort of contest between them.

It didn’t take long for you to realize you actually liked hanging out with the both of them. They were able to keep up a conversation with ease, even whenever you didn't feel like talking they both could somehow sense it. They weren't draining to be around, which really surprised you. 

The both of them could joke and tease. You and Florence ganged up on Harry. Harry and you on her. Florence and Harry on you. Nonstop teasing, jokes, and enough laughter you could feel your cheeks ache by the end of lunch. 

You definitely could see yourself being genuine friends with both of them.

>>>

To say you three managed to get close fast was an understatement. You three practically became inseparable by the end of the first week of shooting. If all three of you weren't together at least two of you were and the other one wasn't far behind.

It quickly became a joke on set. People constantly had to find where the three of you had snuck off to. Which was usually to the food table that was set up for the actors but Harry insisted that it was for everyone, even though you knew it wasn't.

He didn't care though, he just wanted to make sure you actually ate for the day and not just down caffeinated drinks for a meal. Florence on the other hand, was more than willing to invite you to lunch every single day. Her pleas for you to join the two of them was impossible to turn down after a while. 

You figured it was pointless anyways since they brought back food for you every time you said you weren't hungry. So today was the day you'd finally gave in to her cute pouting.

"This place looks like they have those really small dishes that cost more than my rent." You mumbled to Florence as you approached the building that looked like it had jumped out of a magazine.

"You'll love it!" She beamed brightly from beside you. You wanted to believe her, you really did, but you were more of a cheap bar food type of girl. In fact, the bar by your house now knew you by name whenever you walked through the door. Which was only slightly pathetic, but you didn't have many friends and you weren't that good at making new ones, so you weren't in any position to hurt her feelings by not liking this place.

Her hand slipped casually into yours as you neared closer to the building. Harry rounded the corner from parking his car right before you two crossed the street. His long legs stride easily over to you two, his arm around your shoulder. 

That was another thing that had threw you a bit off guard at first. They both were so touchy. Your hair, your face, holding hands, hugging, hands resting on your thigh. One of them always had a hand on you any time they could. It was a little strange at first but you quickly realized this was just how they were with you.

And you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't enjoy it now. 

"I can feel yeh bein' nervous from 'ere." Harry said so closely to your ear you could feel the soft touches of his lips against you. 

Your breathing seemed to stop for a second before you swallowed the feeling and turned to him. Eyes wide as you glanced back to Florence, trying to tell him to shut up before she realized you didn't want to be eating French cuisine.

He chuckled, shaking his head before pulling you back to the table that was already set up for you guys. 

This was fancy and you were so out of place. The small table in the corner tucked you guys away from everyone. The stark white linen over the table had you anxious from the moment you sat down. Who the fuck puts white on a table?! At least the dim lighting had your back. This way no one could see you choke on a snail as you faked your way through this lunch.

Florence hand rested on one of your legs, Harry's on the other, both of them deliberately choosing to ignore your anxious feet tapping on the floor.

"Sweetheart?" Harry called you out of your panic from looking at the menu that was in French. Screw your 14 year old self for taking 4 years of Spanish in high school. "I can order fo' yeah if you want."

"Oh, I think I'm gonna have the, um…" you paused, squinting at the menu of fancy font. "Langue de boeuf?"

"Okay, 'm not lettin' yeh eat tongue." Harry snickered when your nose scrunched up. Who in their right mind would ever want to eat that?

"Wait…" Florence said as she sat down her menu in front of her with her one free hand. Your eyes glinting over to see her looking so confused, yet so adorable with her scrunched brows pulled together. Her head tilted as she blinked a few times at you. "Do you- do you not like French food?"

"I've just… never had it before." You settled for a half-truth, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

"Your last name is François!" She said as her cheeks turned flaming red. Harry's snicker from beside you did nothing to help her embarrassment. Your hand quickly squeezed his, hard, under the table to tell him to stop.

"I'm adopted," You smiled widely at her surprised expression. It's not like she knew you were adopted and she really was being so sweet planning all this out, thinking you'd feel at home here. "And the only thing French about my dad is he knows how to say beget."

"God, I'm so sorry, if- if I'd known, I'd neve-" 

"Flor, please," you smiled as you took her hands away from fiddling with her menu. "I never told you. It's not a big deal. Besides, now you two can order for me in your fancy French words."

You dismissed her worrying with a wave of your hand and a gently prod of the menu. If anything, this was the most heartwarmingly considerate thing anyone had ever done for you. At least she tried to include things with the three of you that you'd also like.

When the, equally nervous as you, waiter finally approached your table to take your drink orders you were glad those two were handling everything. It felt sort of like being spoiled and you'd take that any day of the week. 

"I know you." The waiter, Grayson you learned from his name tag, said after a few awkward seconds of standing in front of the table. You were only half listening, assuming it was for either one of the obviously famous people sitting beside you. "Yeah! That's right you're Y/N Y/L/N-François!"

Your eyes widened, cheeks heated as you squirmed in your seat. Both Florence and Harry looking back and forth between you and your new fan.

"God, your makeup on insta is amazing. The special effects stuff is so good. Really, I'm a big fan." He gushed as you mumbled out a small thank you, your hand clutching the complementary cup of water in front of you like it was a life raft. "Here, you can have my insta handle. Maybe you can DM sometime."

His movements to start writing down his Instagram information came to a screeching halt when both Harry and Florence shot him glares. The tension grew thick between the three of them. Some sort of a weird show down as you tried to drink your water and ignore the awkwardness.

Maybe they didn't like their friends being bothered at lunch when they were with them? You weren't sure. In all honesty, this never happened to you but you could see why this would be annoying for them. They had to deal with it all the time.

This is what they'd do for any of their friends. Right?

The tension finally eased when the waiter left the table. Your cup finally placed back down on the white linen when you let out a sigh of relief. You weren't one for strangers and they both knew it. Maybe they were just telling that guy to screw off because of your nerves, yeah that was it.

The rest of the lunch went much better than you expected. Conversation between you three was never a problem but even the food was amazing.

The two of them had great taste.

"Come on. Gonna be late if we don't get out of here." Florence mumbled, her hand already in yours as she pulled you out of the seat. You didn't even have time to get a word out when Harry threw down an ungodly wad of money on the table.

"You didn't have to pay for me." You said when he caught up to you. His hand on your lower back as he guided you through the door.

"What kind of date would that be?" Florence said without thinking. Your confused eyes shooting to her briefly before looking at the horrified Harry. "Lunch date, meant lunch date, with friends."

"Oh," you said, still a bit confused but chugging through it so you didn't have any awkward conversations. "Still, thank you."

Harry's tensed shoulders relaxed when he gave you a nodd. His eyes shot daggers to Florence over your head as you three started walking.

"I'm sorry!" She mouthed silently to him. You were completely oblivious to the mimed conversation between the two as you walked in front of them.

>>>

"Lookin' sweet today, kitten." Harry's voice from behind you made you jump in your skin. Your hand over your chest like that would somehow stop your nerves.

"What's got you all dressed up?" Florence asked as they both stood in front of you on set. 

Your hands fiddled with the tight black lace top you had on. It complemented your bust so well but it made you feel awkward and out of place, like everyone's eyes were on you. Plus the pants that hugged your ass tighter than cling wrap weren't helping with the shameless stares from people.

"Is- is it too much?" Your words stumbled over themselves as your face heated.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

"Yeh look gorgeous like always." A slight frown danced on his lips as he looked down towards you. He could tell something was up by your anxious movements. Your eyes flickering around the studio like you were constantly on the lookout for someone.

"Okay," you sighed, your hand running over your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. "You guys know the sound technician, James?"

Their faces solidified to stone at your words. Both of them rigid as they looked at you. Not a hint of emotion detectable in their expressions.

"He asked me out." You felt uneasy, unsure of the decision to go to lunch with him. You felt like you were going to die in a ball of nerves at any second. This was exactly why you didn't date.

Sure, you'd gone on a date here or there. Mostly when your very small friend group got tired of you third wheeling at all the couples activities. You'd then be set up with someone, it wouldn't work out because you were one shred away from being a nutcase, and that would be the end of it.

"You can't go out with him!" Florence said shrilly, her eyes widened as the words came out of her mouth.

"Why?" You asked, eyes glancing over to the guy in question.

"He uh- he uh," she stammered, her hand slapped Harry against his chest twice for him to answer for her.

"He sniffs people!" His words rushed out of his mouth. Your eyebrows scrunched together.

"What?" You asked, as Florence hand rubbed the temple of her head before shooting a deathly glance at Harry.

"Yeah, Harry, what?" She asked, obviously annoyed but you weren't sure why. It wasn't like she was about to go on a date with the guy.

"I saw him. He likes to, uhm, yeh know." Harry looked at the ground before his hands shoved into his pockets. "He sniffs peoples hair."

"Wow," your hopes of going on a date that didn't involve cheap beer and 25 cent chicken wings suddenly blew up into flames. "Well, thanks for telling me."

"It's okay, Y/N, we'll go out to lunch." Florence said softly, her hand in yours as she gidded you off the set.

"Thanks guys." You smiled softly, head rested against Harry's chest as you three walked.

>>>

"We've got to tell her." Florence spoke quietly as she snuggled into Harry's side. His duvet wrapped tightly around the both of them in his oversized bed.

"I don't know.." He glanced at the fallen face of his girlfriend. "This all could backfire and then she won't even want to be friends."

"But, things don't feel right. It's like she's our missing piece." Her bottom lip started to tremble, corners of her eyes held onto tears that she refused to let fall. 

"I know, I feel it too." He sighed as he laid back on his pillow. Looking up at the ceiling. A large feeling grew in his stomach, despair. You didn't seem like the type who dated adventurously or tried different things in your life. 

He wanted you. God, how they both wanted you. You, their missing piece. Your presence made the both of them feel that indescribable warmth of home in their chest. Your laugh, your smile, your terrible sense of humor, and the way you had no idea just how desirable you really were.

"One of us should make a move on her." Florence said, finally breaking the silence between the two of them.

"Think?"

"Think it'll be the only way to know for sure if she likes one of us or not."

>>>

That Friday morning started like all the other mornings since you'd been on this job. A new mystery cup of tea in your hands that Harry had brought for you that morning. Their makeup was done long ago but now they hid out in your trailer until some intern was forced to go and find them. 

This had been your three's new morning routine for the past three weeks and surprisingly, you weren't bothered by having your quiet time interrupted by them. You were actually starting to look forward to these morning's. 

"Do you want to come to dinner with us tonight?" Florence asked you from her spot on the love seat. Your head lifted from the trashy magazine you were mindlessly flipping through on the floor. You chuckled as you shook your head at her, turning back to the obvious lies written in ink.

"We won't make yeh eat anythin' weird, kitten." Harry smiled easily when he moved off the couch to sit by you. His arm around your shoulders when you looked up in disbelief. 

"I could pick the place." You suggested a cheeky smug smirk across your face when they both looked like you'd asked them for a kidney. "See, I knew you two wanted to eat somewhere gross!"

"You always want tacos!" Florence groaned flinging herself against the now unoccupied side of the couch that Harry previously sat at. A pout on her face as she tried to get you to change your mind.

"I do not." You scoffed. Okay, maybe you did but still those two could use a real meal or two.

"What if we do food and a movie at mine?" Harry asked, interrupting yours and Florence's teasing back and forth.

"Yes!" She agreed eagerly, her bright eyes filled with excitement and you knew you couldn't say no even if you wanted to.

>>>

You had to admit, you were fucking nervous to go to Harry's house. The neighborhood your old Camero chugged through was definitely not like your neighborhood at all. It was all fancy houses, nice lawns, and security everywhere. You felt like you were a step away from breaking into the pentagon when you rolled up to the gate for the guard to let you in.

You stood anxiously on his front step. The 6 pack of Coors Light seemed like such a bad choice now. You mentally cursed yourself for being so stupid, how could you think someone who lived here would be okay with your cheap beer? You were four seconds away from faking a stomach ache and going home to your hole of an apartment when the door opened. Harry's smiling face with that cute little dimple popping out stared at you looking so out of place.

"Don't gotta be nervous, yeh know?" He asked when he took your hand in his, pulling you into the house.

"Well, you did say you two would bite." You crack a smile at his bark of a laugh. Nerves easily washing off you when you made it into his living room. 

"Where's Flor?" You asked, eyebrows raised when you turned to him.

It wasn't that you minded being one-on-one with Harry. You two got along great but you figured the blonde would be here already, the two of them seemed inseparable.

"On her way." He shrugged, his ass hitting the seat of the couch, motioning for you to do the same.

"What're we going to watch?" You asked as you sat down beside him, his arm around you when sat back from placing the beer down on the floor.

"Anythin' yeh want." He said, his eyes trained on you as you wracked your brain for a film those two would watch with you without complaining.

"Only watch horror." 

"No way, nope. Not watchin' a scary movie. Yeh'll never sleep." He joked, his arm tighter around you as he pulled you into his chest. 

"Not sleeping here so it's not gonna be your problem." You poked back, your head leaning against him. God, he smelled amazing.

"Sure yeh are. Got beer with yeh, can't drive drunk, kitten." His fingers lifted your chin when he spoke to you. Your eyes meeting his briefly before they flickered to his lips.

Have they always looked that good? Or was the intoxicating scent of his cologne making you drunk on him? 

You couldn't tell and honestly, you could care less what the reason was when his face seemed to inch closer to you. He was going to kiss you, you realized. Your breathing seem to halt in your throat when he was millimeters away from you. His nose pressed lightly to yours, setting your soul on fire. 

Your stomach turned and flopped, that familiar chill of desire ran down your spine all the way to your core. Your hands wanted to grip onto him, kiss him with a passion when the doorbell rang.

You jumped in your skin. Your body jerked back from him. Your big round doe-eyes staring blankly into his face. He groaned, eyes squeezed shut, resting his forehead against yours.

"She's got the worst timin'." He muttered before getting up from the couch to answer the door. The breath you'd been holding in released when he left the room.

Did you really about kiss your friend? And not only was he a friend, he was a coworker. You groaned, hands covered your face as it burned in embarrassment. What the hell were you thinking? You knew better than to ever mix business and feelings, especially when it came to famous people.

Florence entering the room with her sweet smile put a stop to your insanely degrading thoughts. You'd simply just pretend this never happened. Push it to the back of your mind and forget it, yeah that would be the solution.

>>>

"Why do we gotta watch this scary shit?" Florence asked, her hands covering her eyes as Jason stalked through the forest after innocent teenagers.

"You've literally acted in horror movies." You smiled at her glare she shot at you. Her head laid on your shoulder as she whined loudly. Harry sat on the other side of her, his hand rested on her thigh.

You had no idea how to even begin to feel about that. An hour ago he was trying to kiss you and now he was rubbing her thigh. You didn't understand but refused to acknowledge the fact that the kiss almost even happened.

There was definitely tension between the three of you, awkward feelings floating in the air around his oversized living room. You tried your best to shove it down, to ignore whatever happened with you and Harry, especially since Florence was here and you had no idea what she would think.

"Let's take shots." She said as she flipped off the TV right as Jason's machete swung wildly through the air towards screaming teenagers.

"Trying to get us drunk?" Harry chuckled as he stood and walked to the kitchen. That smile on his face that could melt hearts.

"Duh. You two are being weird." She said as she eyed you up. Your face heating so much you swore you'd burst into flames. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just you know, stupid stuff." You waved your hand, dismissing her question. An unbelieving hum coming from her as Harry came back in with a bottle of tequila and shot glasses.

"Oh fuck," you groaned at the sight of the bottle, your old enemy that made you say the dumbest shit glared back at you.

"Gonna be able to keep up, kitty?" Harry asked as he sat down a full shot glass in front of you on his coffee table. 

You wished you'd been the type of person who was smart enough to see a bad idea staring you in the face.

You were not that person.

The shot stung and burned your throat the whole way down your throat. The potent liquid turned your stomach into knots whenever it hit the acid there.

Maybe you'd regret this tomorrow morning but it'd make one hell of a story.

>>>

"Yeh never dated?" Harry asked, the upper half of his body swayed back and forth as he sat crossed legged on the floor of his living room. 

"Nope." You answered back before shooting what had to be shot number 10 down your throat. The once burning drink now felt like water when it went down.

"Wait, are you a virgin?" Florence asked, her eyes wide as she stared at you. The serious look on her face made you bust out laughing.

"I'm not a virgin. I just don't date."

"But you're so pretty. Anyone would date you." Florence said, her hand brushing back the hair from your forehead that was beading alcohol induced sweat.

"Don't have the time. Always busy." You said with a sigh. Sure, you wanted to date but your working schedule made it impossible. You couldn't even have a cat you were so busy and you fucking loved cats.

"Ever date more than one person at the same time?" Harry asked when he looked up from his shot that sat in front of him. Testing the waters, he thought, if you said you'd never do that at least you'd be likely to not remember the next day.

"Nah." You shrugged, completely missing the look Florence shot Harry's way. A warning to not push the subject.

"Y'could." He suggested as the warm feeling of sleep started to surround your body. Your eyes feeling more and more heavy by the second.

"That means two people would actually have to like me." You gave a short laugh. Your eyes closing, head falling back to lay on the couch. You'd only rest them for a second, you thought.

"We like you." Florence said quietly from beside you. Her statement being answered with your soft snores.

"She's never gonna agree to it." Harry mumbled, the shot in front of him finally being thrown to the back of his throat.

"But-" Florence started, her hands running over your hair. "I don't know, Harry. I just like her so much. Things feel right when she's around."

"I know, sweetheart." He said as he stood from his spot. His arms encircled you, picking you up as Florence stood from her spot on the floor. The two of them and the passed out you made your way to his room. The big plush bed you would have loved was soft under your body. Your hands closed around the pillow under your head.

"I wanna keep her." Florence said as she laid down beside you. Her hand rested over yours as Harry climbed into bed on the other side of you. 

"M'too but I think I scared her when I tried to kiss her." He said quietly, the both of them speaking in whispers over top of you.

Florence sighed, her lips pouting as she stared at your resting face. She knew weeks ago she liked you. Knew from the moment you laughed wholeheartedly at her terrible jokes that she wanted you. The same gleam bounced in Harry's eyes whenever he looked at you but you never noticed. 

You never took any of their flirting seriously. Never paid a second thought to them asking you out or trying to take you to nice places. 

It made a bit more sense to them now that they knew you never dated but how the hell could you not pick up on their shameless flirtation? Harry called you kitten for God's sake.

"Jus' gonna 'ave to be blunt." Harry said a while later. The both of them doing nothing else but listening to your soft snores.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow."

>>>

You woke up the next morning to a pounding in your head. Your eyes barely saw anything through the foggy vision of your sleepy eyes. You swallowed down that dry feeling in your throat - water, you needed water.

You groaned softly as you pushed yourself up from the bed that wasn't your own. You knew you'd end up crashing the night at Harry's but you didn't expect to end up in the same bed with him, with both of them.

You figured that was honestly better than you and Harry alone in the bed together, at least you know you didn't do anything with Florence laying next to you two. 

You slipped out of bed, easily. The both of them didn't move a muscle as you snuck out of the house and towards your car. Maybe it was rude for you to run off like this but you needed to nurse your hangover at your own place.

You sighed, throwing your phone on your cluttered kitchen table when you finally made it home. The traffic was awful and of course everyone was laying on their horns like that would somehow help the long line of idle cars.

Your head was killing you when you sat in your shower. The water running over you was warm and much-needed. The hangover seemed to wash down the drain with your lavender soap. 

You were calm, in your element, when frantic knocking at your door interrupted your shower. You cursed under your breath, cutting off the water quickly. Hoping it wasn't your elderly neighbor who always seemed to need help moving boxes on Saturday's.

"I'm coming, Ms. Thompson!" You yelled as the knocking grew more frantic. Your bathrobe tightly around you when you opened the door. The both of them looked like a mess of anxiety and worry.

"Uh, hi?" You said with the door barely opened enough for your head to stick out. Water dripping off you collected on the floor at your feet.

"Hi? Seriously?" Florence growled, her usually sweet and calm voice laced with irritation as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at you.

"Where's yeh phone? We thought you wondered off in the middle of the night or sumthin'. We were bloody worried, Y/N." Harry said as you opened the door for them to come in. 

"It's dead." You gestured to the useless piece of technology sitting on your table. Harry hands ran over his face as he shook his head. Florence's lips pursed as they both looked anywhere but at you.

"Am I missing something?" You finally asked after what felt like hours. "'Cause I feel like I'm being scolded by my parents right now."

"You can't be serious. God, Y/N," Florence fumed in a way you'd never seen before. The confusion in your mind growing larger by the second. "What would we have done if something happened to you?

"Uhhh…" your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked towards Harry for help. You had no idea what the hell you did to make them so worried about you.

"Can yeh sit down?" Harry asked you, his head nodded in a gesture towards your couch. Anxiety crawled through your skin as you walked over to sit on your plain and basic couch.

Harry's hands smoothing down the front of his pants and Florence foot tapping like mad on your floors did nothing to calm your racing mind. All three of you sat in tension on your couch. You were sandwiched between the both of them. Their shoulders pressed tightly against yours and maybe if it was under different circumstances you'd enjoy the close contact.

"We like you." Florence blurted out into the silence of your living room. 

Your widening eyes looked at her in complete disbelief until you burst with laughter. The snorting chuckling sounds died quickly when they both seemed to clam up.

"You're serious?" You asked, both of them seemed too nervous to answer at first. Harry's concerned filled eyes connecting with yours briefly before looking at the ground, his hands, his rings. Anywhere else.

"We do but we get if 's weird fo' yeh. We can just forget it if yeh want us to go back to bein' friends." He rushed out nervously as you let out a breath of air.

"I'm just surprised someone, who doesn't sniff people, likes me." You mumbled, hand pushing back your damp hair out of your face. Harry's snort of a laugh and a shake of his head had your eyebrows pulled together before Florence called your attention again with her nerve wrecked voice.

"I can't believe you didn't notice." Her hands fiddled together with nerves. "We kept asking you out."

"I'm a bit dense." You said with a short laugh.

"Whaddya say?" Harry asked as he took his hand in yours. Florence doing the same with the other. Flutters in your stomach blossomed at their touch. One hand, soft and silky like satin, the other, rough and calloused at the tips but smooth towards the palm.

You swallowed the nerves down. Your mind filled with so many doubts, so many thoughts all at the same time. Anxiousness mixed with excitement. It was new, different, and you had so many questions.

"How- how would this work?" You asked, both sets of eyes brightening at your words.

"How ever you want." Florence rushed out. The prospect of you actually considering this had her heart racing almost out of her chest. Really, she'd agree to anything you wanted as long as it included you three being exclusive.

"We… just date?" You asked, your brows furrowed as you stared at your hands. Your mind trying to turn out the logistics was going to drive you absolutely insane.

"Well, yes but y'know… the three of us." Harry gestured to the three of you.

"Won't someone get jealous?" You asked him, your head tilted to the side as you watched his lips purse in consideration.

"Guess if one of us gets jealous we gotta talk 'bout it. Work it out." He said, Florence nodding her head in agreement from beside you.

"And.." you started to get nervous about your next question, the one that had been blaring in your mind since this conversation started. "The sex?"

"Already tryin' to bed us, kitten?" Harry joked as Florence shot him a glare. Your face heated and eyes widened, maybe this was a bad idea, you were already about to die from embarrassment.

"Shut up." She whispered yelled from beside you like you wouldn't be able to hear it. Harry's eyes rolled in his head that smug smirk on his face.

"We don't have to talk about that for a while if you don't want to. We can figure it out later." Florence said softly from beside you. Her hand taking yours again, her thumb ran soothing circles against the back of it.

You shrugged, your lip between your teeth as you thought about what it'd be like to have both of them. A familiar heat worked up in the bottom of your stomach.

God, even just picturing it was getting you started. You could only imagine what it'd be like when it actually happened.

"The little minx." Harry laughed as he leaned up to look at you the thoughts you were thinking clearly wrote across your face. "Think she wants t'give it a try before settling on an answer, Flor."

"Hmm," she hummed from beside you, a smile cracked on her face as she brushed the damp hair off your shoulder. "Think she needs some more convincing?"

"Yeah, looks like it to me." Harry words floated over you, through the air above you. Your mind tried to desperately grab at the words, make sense of them, but it was useless. You were already gone at the mere prospect of the rest of the day's events.

"Can I kiss you?" Her word brought you down to earth but only barely. 

Her plush lips made you forget how sentences form or words could be spoken in the English language when they hesitantly met yours. They were soft, not demanding to take control. She let you come to her. Let you set the pace that you were comfortable with.

Your hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her addictive gently touch harder into you. A heavenly sounded moan slid from her mouth when your tongue slipped its way in. You could have gotten lost in the way you moved so insync with each other when she pulled back.

Your deep breathing and closed eyes made her grin widely. Maybe you would be okay with this arrangement. 

Harry's hand in yours again got your attention. Eyes snapped open to see the pretty blonde in front of you smiling smugly.

"Can I kiss yeh?" His thick accent somehow sounded richer in this moment. Your head turned to the other side to see his usually bright green eyes darken with lust. The sight of him like that could keep you satisfied for a month, maybe longer. 

"Yes." You barely had the word out of your mouth when his lips pressed forcefully to yours. Demanding movements of his mouth led you in the kiss, determined hands grabbed your hips to lift you onto his lap. The sudden movement through you off balance. Your ass hitting his very prominent boner made you moan.

Holy shit, how the hell were you supposed to handle all of that?

You whimpered as he pulled you back from him. His hands running under the robe to your unclothed ass. His calloused fingers felt rough against your skin as he groaned, his head against the back of the couch as Florence moved over beside you two.

"We can stop 'ere." Harry said through gritted teeth when your hips moved over his, chasing the feeling of his retreating hands.

Florence hummed her agreement as you sat back fully on Harry's lap. Your mind ran circled around you. The last thing you were thinking right now was quitting this.

"I want to see you kiss." You said through your nerves both their wide eyes blinked up at you. Not thinking you'd be wanting to go any further. 

Florence acted quickly, her hands on either one of Harry's cheeks as she pulled his lips to hers. The two of them were obviously familiar with the other. They'd been doing this for a while, you assumed.

Whatever worries you had about being jealous or not liking the three of you together all at one time quickly went out the window. They were fucking hot together. The sight of them wrestling for the lead sent a flood of arousal straight to your core. Your hips grinding against Harry's lap, desperate for any friction. 

"Think we got her answer." Harry mumbled into Florence's mouth, a smile on his lips as she laughed. Your face heated as she faced you with that sweet smile.

"We better make sure she doesn't change her mind then."

>>>

It was an absolute mess of limbs as you three rushed to the bedroom. Lips against lips, tongues sliding against one another's to a point you weren't sure where Harry started and Florence ended. 

"Gonna make yeh feel so good, princess." Harry's deep voice vibrated against you. His lips pressed tightly to your ear, turned upwards at the corners in a sinful smile. His hands gripped the back of your legs tighter, bringing them closer to God and you further and further away from ever having a front row ticket to the pearly gates. 

If this was why you went to hell, it'd be fucking worth it.

Her teeth grazed the inside of your bare thighs. Just enough to get your attention back to her pretty head of blonde hair between your legs. Harry's head against your shoulder as he watched her work you into an absolute mess of whines and she hadn't even done anything yet.

"So sensitive, baby." She smiled against your skin. Her perfect white teeth biting a bit harder into you before sucking the flesh of your inner thigh into her mouth. Marking you as theirs. 

You whimpered, head against Harry's shoulder as your fingers dug deep into his forearms that were holding your legs open for Florence. His throbbing erection leaking a river against your ass every time you squirmed in place. 

Hot breath fanned against your core. Her dainty fingers ran through your exposed folds and maybe, if you had more shame, you would have held back the pornographic moan that came from you. But you couldn't help it, they'd been absolutely teasing you relentlessly. Wanting to see how you ticked.

"Please, fuck," your hoarse voice cracked as you looked down at her. She was laid on her stomach arms crossed in front of her as she shamelessly studied you. "Flor, please."

"We're getting there." She mumbled, her fingers stopped their movements, one finger slipped into your absolutely dripping pussy. 

"Fuck." Harry breathed out as another moan fell from you. A subtle shift from his hips had another wet spot starting on your back.

"She's soaked, Harry." Florence held up her fingers that were doused in you up for him to inspect. A hum coming from him as he kissed against your neck that was littered with marks he'd left.

"Think y'can give us that answer now, pretty girl?" He smiled at your defiant 'humph', you were going to be so much fun to tease. "Come on, wanna hear y'say it. Then, yeh can get what y'want." 

You debated it for a second, your pride or your relief.

"I wanna be your girlfriend." You mumbled through nerves. Never one to be vocal during sex wasn't going to be an option with them. 

"Didn't hear yeh."

"Fuck," you groaned, face heating to blazing temperatures you didn't know existed outside of the sun. "I want to be your two's girlfriend!"

"No need to yell, baby." Florence said with a smug smile up to you. 

"You both ca--" you started to tell them both to shove off when her tongue finally, finally, ran across your swollen clit. 

You swore your eyes actually rolled back in your head.

"Told yeh we'd give yeh what you wanted." That smug smirk on his face as he watched you starting to fall apart.

Her tongue was flat and thick against your folds. Wild and untamed in it's adventures to find all the spots that made your toes curl. Her moans from your taste echoed through you.

"Holy shit," she breathed out, her mouth disconnected from you only briefly. Her thumb pressed on your clit, rubbing lightly. "Gotta taste her for yourself."

"Will after yeh finish. Don't wanna hog her all to m'self." 

You felt like you were going to explode. Here there were, casually talking about you like you weren't even there. It was so fucking hot.

Her hands grasped onto Harry's thighs as her whole face practically buried itself into your core. You'd been eaten out before, but not like this.

Her tongue switched so effortlessly between slow, thick, long, strides to quick, tight, circles on your throbbing bundle of nerve endings. She seemed to be a step away from reading your mind. Two fingers pushing into you right when you needed them the most.

"Gonna cum, pup?" Harry grunted against your skin. His eyes never left the absolutely sinful scene in front of him. Kisses pressed against your neck, your shoulder, anywhere he could reach.

"Yes, fuck, oh-" your voice carried through your small apartment. So loud, so lustful, you didn't even recognize it was yours at first. Her fingers hitting that spot inside you so perfectly, your tightening walls couldn't take it anymore. 

A release in a way you've never experienced before finally hit you. Your whole body shivered from the force of it. Eyes closed tightly, head against Harry's shoulder. It was so good it almost hurt.

When you finally started to surface from that hazy feeling of pure bliss you were being lowered onto the bed. Your legs that had been held open for so long ached and throbbed but it was so fucking worth it.

"Think y'can handle another one?" Harry smiled down to you as he hovered over the bed. Florence settling beside you, her hand over your hair to calm you down.

"Yeah." You barely breathed out, eyes connected with hers briefly. How the hell could someone look so sweet and adorable after wrecking you? 

You hummed, head leaning up to give her a kiss. Lips connected with hers as you reached for Harry's hand. His cool rings relieved the burning hot skin of your hands as you pulled him to your guys level. 

His lips replaced hers against yours. His hands taking time to explore the curves of your body, your chest. Fingers dancing against your budded nipples. Your overly sensitive body was aching for another release as you moaned into his smirking mouth. His hand kneading your flesh in brand new ways.

"Ass up, sweetheart." His cocky tone of voice had your heart beat picking right back up as you turned over onto your knees. You rested on your elbows, hand motioning for Florence to lay in front of you. Her eyes widened as she stared you down.

"Well, don't be shy." You smiled as she crawled over to you, her legs laid open on the bed as your arms wrapped around her thighs.

"Just, just, surprised this is happening." Her words stumbled out as your tongue started to explore her folds the way hers had done. Gently soft pressure against her core, hardly enough to taste her, teasing.

Payback for them taunting you in the beginning. 

Her breathing caught in her throat, her elbows barely keeping her upright when you finally got a good taste of her and fuck, was she delicious. You moaned, hands dug into her thighs as your tongue slipped into her tight hole.

You could do this the rest of your fucking life.

Harry's distraction finally broke when Florence's eyes opened again. Green eyes meeting green eyes as her hand tugged your head down harder into her core. His tongue wet his lips before his hand traveled down between your legs, fuckin' hell you were soaking almost down to your knees.

He wanted to be gentle with you, soft, loving. Show you how much he liked you but when you shifted your ass back into him. Wiggling back and forth for him, he couldn't help himself. You little temptress. His hand landed firmly on your ass and what he didn't expect was the full fledged roar of a moan that came from you. His dick twitched from the sound.

"Fuck," your voice muffled by the her silky wet cunt. Her hand lifting your head up just enough to see your eyes as Harry started to slide into your velvet cave. His hand bruising your hip as he cursed under his breath.

"Feel good, H?" Florence wore that smug smile as his lust blown eyes met hers. His snappy comments and witty attitude put at bay by your contracting walls having a hard time keeping up with his girth.

"God, sweet girl, your pussy is fuckin' tight." He thrusted a bit further into your narrow opening, your hands dug deep into Florence's legs as you whimpered. Her hands ran over your hair as she shushed you.

"Oh my g--" you choked out as he finally settled fully in you. His hands pulled the round flesh of your ass back to see where you two were connected. He pulled out only a little just to push slowly back in. His head fall to his chest as your vortex sucked him back in. "Move, please, move."

Your hips only swayed slightly before he was pounding into you. You were thankfully you had a job in front of you to do or else you would have been reaching another orgasm in mere seconds. His length hitting that spot inside of you every single time. 

You had to force yourself to concentrate, to not let your eyes roll back into your head whenever he pumped into you. Your tongue ran circles around her clit, your fingers slid into her easy. Nothing but moans filled your small apartment, your bed creaking from how hard he was thrusting into you.

You felt so sorry for your downstairs neighbors.

Her hand tightened in your hair as his hand tightened around your hip. You were pushed, pulled, tugged, manhandled, and holy fuck was it making your walls clench tighter. Your tongue was more determined than ever to make fast work of getting her off when you felt your fast approaching end over the horizon.

"Oh, oh," she moaned her hips bouncing down on your face as she fucked herself on your tongue and fingers.

"'M close." Harry grunted from behind you, his hand slapping down on your ass again.

You didn’t have the time or capacity to enjoy the stinging pain that went through your body. Tingling sensation all the way through your core when you felt the walls against your fingers start to contract. A wildly erotic moan came from her as Harry's hand reached around to rub fast pace circles on your clit.

Stars danced along your vision as your release hit you. Sloppy thrust of Harry's hips slowed down as a warmth filled you. Overrunning from your puffy, abused, pussy down your legs to the bedspread. Your body collapsed into the open arms of your now girlfriend as Harry leaned over your back.

"Why'd we wait so long to do that?" You asked once your mind cleared from the fog of your two orgasms. Laughs came from in front and behind you. Chaste kisses against whatever available skin was in their reach.

"We could always do it again, love."

[thisandthat-whatever]

Tom still follows N meaning he’s leaving that door open for down the road. N clearly likes him a lot otherwise she wouldn’t still be so hurt about the situation. If he doesn’t get back together with Olivia or N then he definitely will with someone from London. I think him and Florence Pugh will hit it off.

T would never unfollow an ex publicly after he became famous. Unfollowing an ex creates a new barrage of tabloid articles. It is better to paint a picture of “amicable breakup hence still following”. Most famous celebs do this. Same reason why Z will never unfollow Jacob. (Z only unfollowed Trevor , not after breakup but after he dropped a song about how he made her ass bounce like a kangaroo while he made her cum while her family was in the house, etc. If he had not done that, she might be still following his cheating ass because she would never unfollow an ex otherwise. She likes keeping the “I am nice” image. Unfollowing is not her thing).

Same reason why Kaia never unfollowed Jacob even though she took down all his photos. Same reason why Tom Hiddleston never unfollowed Taylor Swift even though she fucking did him dirty.

So, no, dear, Tom is not “leaving the door open for N”.

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Black Widow

I don’t think anything is as frustrating to me in the MCU as the way it has done Natasha Romanoff dirty. Nine years after Natasha became more than just a sexpot spy in a catsuit and actually got to help save the world in The Avengers, here we are with her very own movie, approximately eight years too late. If I sound bitter, it’s because I am. Endgame left a bad taste in my mouth, and I wasn’t sure why I should even care about a new MCU story set in the recent past about a woman the Marvel movies really haven’t known what to do with in any meaningful way since the bright shining glory that was Winter Soldier. But, you give me Rachel Weisz and Florence Pugh and David Harbour as a Russian spy found family, and I’m willing to at least hear you out. 

Spoiler-free synopsis: Basically, after the events of Civil War, Natasha (Scarlett Johansson) is on the run and someone comes looking for a package she has in her possession. That leads her to steal the contents of the package and hunt down its origins - her original family, a group of deep undercover Russian spies (Weisz, Harbour, and unknowing baby sister Pugh). In the process of getting the band back together, Nat learns the truth about a job from her past and the bulk of the movie is her going on a mission to make things right with bickering family of grumpy Russians in tow. The action scenes are tight, with some truly breathtaking sequences (an aerial fight near the end is a real knockout). Pugh is the MVP of the film, taking the role of comic relief as well as the emotional core, and her performance as Yelena is worth the price of admission alone. Weisz could step on my face and I’d say thank you, as per usual. Cate Shortland’s direction is competent, but nothing to write home about - she keeps the action moving, the pace brisk, and she lets the emotional beats breathe, so I suppose the movie’s unremarkable direction is probably a sign that it’s more good than bad. Her vision is strongest when she’s engaging with the theme of the subjugation of women and the trail of broken bodies that subjugation leaves in its wake.

As for the story itself, I enjoyed it because I care about Natasha and I crave more than anything more opportunities for her to be herself (not some pointless eye candy or over-the-top seductress as a form of nerd wish fulfillment), which this movie delivers. But even in her own movie, I couldn’t help but feel the shadow of the rest of the Avengers looming large in ways they don’t in say, an Iron Man or a Thor movie. All the payoffs to things we’ve heard about in Nat’s backstory - Budapest, Dreykov’s daughter - come from ensemble movies, and there are a ton of visual references and homages that can’t be coincidental to Black Panther, Captain America, and the SHIELD helicarrier from The Avengers. At least this movie has some Very Good Pigs as a highlight too. 

Is this a good Black Widow movie? Yeah, I think so! I enjoyed my time and I’m glad it was made. Is it the best Black Widow movie? Nah, that’s still Winter Soldier. Is it the Black Widow movie we deserved? Absolutely not, because we deserved one eight years ago. Maybe in some other timeline in the multiverse folks got that movie, and they got to live in a world where Nat wasn’t an afterthought in her own damn franchise. 

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[moviemunchies]

Outlaw King tells the story of Robert the Bruce, one of the national heroes of Scotland that fought against the English for Scottish independence. If you know anything about Scottish history, you know who he is; if you walk around in any major city in Scotland you’ll see a statue or two in honor of this guy. So yeah, it’s natural that there are a few movies about him.

During the siege of Stirling Castle, Robert the Bruce (at the urging of his father) and several other Scottish noblemen swear loyalty to King Edward I of England and beg pardon for rising up against him. Edward accepts and decides they’re all friends, while drawing out the siege to hurt the rebels as much as possible. Robert’s clearly unhappy with the arrangement, but wants to follow his father’s will.

Things aren’t great after that, exactly, but King Edward’s goddaughter Elizabeth is married to Robert as a show of peace, and she gets along pretty swimmingly with her new family and home despite some reservations about the unfamiliar environment. And after Robert’s father dies and he becomes head of the family, he intends to keep his father’s wishes for peace...until the English declare that the rebel William Wallace is dead, showing off pieces of Wallace’s body and stirring the population to rise up against the English again.

Realizing that he must do something Robert tries his darndest to to raise the Scottish people into an army against the English. It doesn’t quite work though, because the English are too powerful, and the people don’t believe that Robert can win. So without a large military group of allies, he instead wages a vicious guerilla war against the English occupation. But of course, this war has a cost, one that Robert doesn’t know if he’s willing to pay.

I was hoping for this movie to have awesome battle scenes. And there are battle scenes in this movie, and they’re well done, but they’re not stylized in a way that glorifies them. Which is fine, and I think it gets the point across very well: war isn’t glorious. It isn’t a cool, awesome action scene. It’s an ugly, dirty, mess where people get horribly killed and get left in the mud for the crows.

This movie’s tone in general tries to stick to something more realistic. That’s not to say that everything in the film is historically accurate--from what I’ve read, there are plenty of deviations, and in general I think it’s always a mistake to take a Hollywood film and interpret it as an accurate depiction of real history (and surprisingly, there are people who do that). But it certainly feels more authentic than the scenes I’ve seen of Braveheart.

[No, I haven’t seen all of Braveheart and one of these days I’m going to have to fix that.]

The violence in this movie reaches the downright brutal sometimes. Not often, but often enough that I feel like you should be forewarned. It’s not even the battle scenes that concern me--though there is graphic violence in those. There’s a graphic execution performed on Edward, Prince of Wales’s orders, and, uh, that kind of shook me.

There’s also the tension, the threat of violence that hangs over several scenes. When you don’t know if it will happen, but you know it’s very possible that it might. And it’s too the movie’s credit that it keeps tension in these scenes rather than making you think, “Well of course that won’t happen to him/her because that would be too cruel!” 

Performances in this movie are good, I don’t know what else to say? I don’t know if Chris Pine is a convincing Scot to Scottish people, but I didn’t find any problems with his accent or performance throughout the film. And I buy him as a conflicted leader who sort of stumbles into the messy situations while still trying to do the right thing. He was probably 

I will note Aaron-Taylor Johnson plays James Douglas and I had no idea it was him. Maybe it was the beard. Or maybe he just gave such a good performance that I didn’t recognize him at all. Maybe it’s a bit of both. I also highly encourage readers to look up the real James Douglas, who was absolutely nuts and 

I also think that Florence Pugh’s Elizabeth was one of the more fascinating characters in the film. Elizabeth is Robert’s wife, in a clearly arranged marriage, but despite their initial hesitation they do end up loving each other very much, and very loyally. It’s a different kind of relationship than we usually see in fiction (at least, in the fiction I consume), where a medieval arranged marriage ends up working out. And she’s a very strong female character despite not having anything close to an action scene.

Billy Howle’s Prince of Wales is also a very good performance, in that he is a character that’s both very easy to hate and very easy to pity. Not that you ever want him to succeed, but he’s doing all of the horrible things he does in the film because he’s desperate to measure up to greater men (noticeably his father and Robert) and he just… doesn’t. So he devolves into screaming and more violence, which ends up blowing up in his face.

I enjoyed this movie as a serious historical war movie. I was hoping for something more deliberately epic, which Outlaw King isn’t trying to be. If you like historical pieces in the Middle Ages, and war movies, you’ll probably enjoy this one. Not one I can watch over and over again, but not because it’s not good, but because it’s heavier than a lot of the movies I review here

[ekjohnston]

Are you excited for Black Widow?

I mean, it’s at least five years too late and this franchise has CONSISTENTLY done her dirty, but also the world is on fire and Florence Pugh is going to punch stuff so...

[chronotopes]

Last ten?

76. What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone?

wrote gene and liam a fake tv script about my kid and their kid saving christmas together 

77. What’s your opinion on age differences in relationships?

the threat they pose is sometimes overstated on tumblr but it’s true that age gaps get less significant once both parties are in their thirties or older

78. What’s your dirtiest secret?

my sex toy collection is buried in a swampy area of jamestown island in a location only a map can lead you to. dirty both because it’s a sex toy collection and because digging around in a swamp is kind of a messy business. (also this is a joke)

79. When was the last time you felt jealous? Why?

my friend carleigh has our academic advisor’s phone number and i don’t. (no this is not soul crushing by any means just a fleeting thought, refer back to previous answer about jealousy) 

80. When was the last time you told someone you loved them?

fifteen minutes ago before hanging up the phone with isabelle 

81. Who are five people you find attractive?

isabelle, florence pugh, the female cast of star trek deep space nine

82. Who is the last person you hugged?

my mom

83. Who was your first kiss with?

my first girlfriend, maggie, whom i dated for two months in my freshman year of college. it was during thor ii  

84. Why did your last relationship fail 

there was a level of disconnect between us from the start about how long term we were, which eventually resulted in me feeling very trapped and dumping her the week before finals week

85. Would you ever date someone off of the Internet?

no lol i would do long distance with someone i met irl first (which is basically the sitch rn eyyy) but a lot of what factors into me liking someone* is physical/face-to-face stuff, and also i don’t tend to make lots of internet friends. so no

*currently. this was not the case in 2015. shoutout to sarah.

[foxespsu]

01 / BASICS

Full Name: Marley Marie Reid

Nicknames: N/A

Birthday: April 27th

Gender: Cis Female (she/her)

Orientation: As Jess would say, she’s on a journey and the final destination is bisexual. She wasn’t even allowed to choose her own husband though; she’s hardly had a chance to think about who she’d want now that she has a say.

Astrological Sign: Taurus sun, Virgo moon

Spoken Languages: English

Birthplace: Roanoke, Virginia  

Relationship Status: Single (divorced)

tw miscarriage, abuse, alcoholism

02 / PHYSICAL TRAITS

Hair Color/Style: Medium length, dirty blonde. She tends to keep it up and out of the way, whether that’s in a bun, braids, or something fancier. She used to love doing Emma’s hair, and some of that love has transferred to her own, although it will never be the same.

Eye Color: Green

Face Claim: Florence Pugh

Height: 5′7

Tattoos: N/A

Piercings: N/A—even pierced ears would never have been allowed in her home.

Unique Attributes: She has scars from both her life with her father and with Samuel, although the latter was more vicious. She sits very still, a relic of when any extra attention was dangerous. She speaks slowly and carefully. The more sun she sees, the lighter her hair is. 

03 / PERSONALITY TRAITS/TYPES

Positive Traits: Kind, resilient, calm, determined.

Negative Traits: Private, self-sacrificing, reserved, hesitant.

Hobbies/Interests: Exy, obviously. Reading. She doesn’t know if she can count cooking, baking, and general domestic tasks as hobbies but they’ve historically taken up most, if not all, of her free time. She goes to church on Sundays.

Major/Minor: English major, emphasis on literature. No minor. With Exy, who has the time? 

Insecurities: After all the time she was forced to take off from Exy, Marley is afraid that she’ll never be as good as the others. Or even worse, maybe it isn’t about how long she’s played, but simply that she isn’t as talented as some of the other players out there—certainly not talented enough for a pro team, and then what happens? She doesn’t have any other options. She’s afraid that she won’t live up to Wymack’s decision to recruit her even after she initially turned him down and even more afraid that she  won’t live up to her own hopes and dreams. She wants, more than anything, to be proud of herself.

Quirks/Eccentricities: She’s extremely organized. Living with her father and then with Samuel taught her to be  on top of everything—dinner had to be ready at the right hour and with the right dishes, Emma’s school clothes washed and her lunch packed with enough time to drive her to school, the house stocked up with the right kinds of cheap liquor that never ran low no matter how much the men drank, Marley always on time for fear of the consequences but never early either, not if it meant extra time in the house. She’s free now, but it’s hard to shake those habits. Marley’s planner is a sight to behold.

MBTI Type:  ISFJ, “the Defender”. Patient, reliable, hardworking, altruistic, practical. Humble, shy, afraid of change, prone to overloading themselves, taking things too personally, repressing their feelings, and giving too much of themselves.

Enneagram Type: Type 6, “the Loyalist”. At their best, type 6′s are loyal, self-affirming, independent but interwoven, positive, courageous, and make great leaders. At their worst, they are fearful, desperate for security, defenseless, and slow to make important decisions.

Moral Alignment: Lawful Good

Temperament:  Phlegmatic

04 / FAMILY & HOME

Immediate Family: Emma Reid (younger sister, 20, runaway), Patrick Reid (father, thankfully estranged), Samuel Lawrenz (ex-husband, estranged) , unnamed child (deceased,  miscarriage, but Marley still thinks of them).

Other Family: N/A

How do they feel about their family?: Marley has restraining orders against both Patrick and Samuel, which should say enough. Emma is, and will always be, her little sister, no matter how much time has passed since they saw one another. Marley doesn’t resent Emma for leaving, even if it meant Marley faced their father’s wrath alone. She only wishes Emma had told her where she was going—that she could know, for certain, that Emma is okay wherever she is now. As for her miscarriage, Marley feels a great amount of guilt. She never named that poor child. She never wanted that child,  if only because they would be Samuel’s more than hers—and she knew what Samuel was like to the people he thought were his. She wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone, let alone an unborn child. Even still, she wonders if those thoughts are the reason the baby didn’t survive. Did she somehow harm them? In some ways, that miscarriage lead to her freedom, even if indirectly, and that makes everything so much harder.

How does their family feel about them?: Marley doesn’t know what Emma thinks about her and she tries very hard not to think about her father or her ex-husband at all.

Pets: N/A

Where do they live?: Palmetto is her home now.

Description of their home: Marley lives on campus full time and considers the Tower to be her permanent address.

Description of their bedroom: Marley’s half of the bedroom is almost too neat. There are few belongings, since she was forced to flee Samuel’s house with only what she could grab in the moment. Now that she’s here, she’s slowly but surely building up her collection of Exy gear and workout clothes rather than anything else. She bought herself a houseplant when she first moved in, a strange attempt at nesting,  and she’s somehow kept it alive to this day. She makes her bed every morning, out of habit, and has to narrowly resist doing the same for her housemates. Mess, after everything that was attached to it back home, makes her deeply anxious.

05 / THIS OR THAT

Introvert or extrovert? Introvert.

Optimist or pessimist? Optimist.

Leader or Follower? Leader.

Confident or Self-Conscious? Self-conscious.

Cautious or Careless? Cautious

Passionate or Apathetic? Passionate.

Book Smarts or Street Smarts? Street smarts.

Compliments or Insults? Compliments.

06 / FAVORITES

Favorite Color: Lavender 

Favorite Clothing Style/Outfit: Loose clothes, practical. She wears layers and reveals very little—if she’s got a button up on, even the top button is done.

Favorite Bands/Songs/Type of Music: Older artists (think Frank Sinatra and Judy Garland). Jazz. Classical.

Favorite Movies: Wizard of Oz, Pride and Prejudice, Little Women, Cinderella, Harry Potter.

Favorite TV Shows: She’s never had much time to commit to TV shows. It’s much easier to get into movies, as they’ll only require a few hours to watch at most. She does love cooking shows, such as the Great British Bake Off.

Favorite Books: Wizard of Oz, Chronicles of Narnia, the Princess and the Goblin, A Wrinkle in Time, Harry Potter—stories where children find a magical new world right in their backyard. She also enjoys Austen.

Favorite Foods/Drinks: They didn’t get many fresh fruits and vegetables growing up and Marley loves them now. She still cooks meals often, despite access to the dining commons. Marley can’t decide if she actually prefers her home cooked meals—so often, they remind her of bad memories—but it’s a habit now, and that is it’s own kind of soothing. She knows the recipes to dozens of pies by heart. She loves Betsy’s hot chocolate and prefers tea to coffee.

Favorite Sports/Sports Teams: The Foxes, especially now that Wymack has done so much for her. She enjoys the Trojans as well. Secretly, Marley dreams about going pro, and follows most pro teams with too much interest.

Favorite Time of Day: Early morning or late at night, whenever most people are asleep and the world is quiet.

Favorite Weather/Season: Spring and Summer, when the weather is warm and she can stay outside.

Favorite Animal: Finches, canaries, and other songbirds. She’ll love Parker’s rats too.

[r-manoff]

Hot Takes:

Sam Raimi is overrated and ruined MoM. Tom Holland is the worst Spiderman if we’ll rank the 3 of them. He’s amazing don’t get me wrong but Tobey and Andrew were really just more amazing as Spidey. Zendaya is pretty but her acting performance is a snoozefest. It especially annoys me when she makes that frog face expression that she usually uses in her every acting job. She’s only good at acting as an addict in Euphoria but other than that, she’s overrated. Jeremy Renner is so ugly and creepy it pains me to see him on screen each time. Chris Evans is so pretty though so at least he made up for Renner’s ugliness in previous films along with the other hot actors like Scarjo and Hemsworth and Hailee Steinfeld and Florence Pugh graced the screen in Hawkeye. Hottie galore that made me forget Renner’s presence. Brie Larson unfortunately got so lazy after winning an Oscar and getting the Captain Marvel gig because she is actively choosing to waste her acting talent by only picking projects that only fattens her bank account. Mad respect for her hustle but truly a shame for her career trajectory. RDJ might have been great as Iron Man and being the face of MCU but his entitlement is so gross. He did Chris Evans so dirty by featuring Iron Man so much in Civil War that movie didn’t deserved to be titled Captain America because it was basically an Avengers movie. That was all RDJ.

As much as I love hot takes, I must admit you started off with solid ones and then moved to basing your opinions on the appearances of the actors 🥴 don’t know how solid of a foundation that kind of argumentation is

As for the ones that aren’t based on looks:

Raimi: never had high hopes for him as the director of MoM if I have to be honest… I’m not the biggest fan of the original SM trilogy either. I think he mainly fills his movies with female characters screaming and… well that is it

Tom Holland: out of the three SM, yes, I agree. But I will say that Jon Watts did something that the other two spideys hadn’t done: he created a solid origin story in the span of three movies without focusing on what has already been focused on, namely how he was bitten, learning to hone his powers. He skipped all that and gave us a version of Peter that was different, albeit one that relies on tech and such which is so far from his original character, but he turned that around in nwh. That movie definitely made me like Tom’s SM way more and appreciate Watts more too

Brie Larson: I always found Captain Marvel to be a pretty tame movie. I hate that it gave the 40 yo guys who still live with their moms and get the crust of their bread cut off a solid reason to trash this movie. It’s been a while since I last saw this movie, so I can’t say if this was bc of Brie’s acting or the plot, but it definitely didn’t amaze me as much as it should have for the first female led superhero movie in the mcu

RDJ: you do know that RDJ has as much ‘power’ within the mcu as a dead rat, right? Feige does not care what the actors want in regards to their roles and the sizes of them in the movies. Though I’ll agree that CW is basically Avengers 3.5, the comics are that too. I advise you to look at some of them

[aion-rsa]

Hawkeye Episode 5 Review: Fianchetto

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This review contains spoilers for Marvel’s Hawkeye Episode 5.

Episode 5 of Marvel’s Hawkeye, “Ronin”, finally let most of our intrepid not-quite-heroes discover that they are just pawns in a bigger game between very some strategic players. It also saved its last shot for the reveal that fans of Netflix’s Daredevil have been waiting for: the return of Vincent D’Onofrio’s Wilson Fisk aka Kingpin, in his very first MCU appearance.

But before that, some conversations needed to be had, and these extended chats occasionally found me checking the remaining episode time. Not because I was bored – far from it – but because I felt like my brain needed some kinda additional confirmation that this installment of the series was actually planning to spend most of its penultimate episode building tension, rather than releasing it.

Though I can already tell that some Marvel fans are going to be screaming at their screens when the credits roll on this on this one in pure frustration, forced to wait another week for a showdown between Clint, Kate, Echo, Yelena, Eleanor, Kazi, the Tracksuit Mafia, and possibly Wilson Fisk, that’s sort of the whole point of the episode. The players are now right where they need to be for an explosive climax, and that climax wouldn’t be as effective without us knowing what is at stake. As Hawkeye informed us from the start, this isn’t about another MCU apocalypse. It’s not the end of the world. It’s about family, and what you’re willing to do for them and without them.

“Ronin” takes the time to fill in some Black Widow gaps. We go back in time to 2018 and join Yelena’s ongoing mission to free other widows around the world. It shows us what happens when she is stolen away by The Snap (those dustings aren’t getting any less upsetting) and when Yelena returns, Natasha is dead. We already know that Valentina has pinned her demise on Clint, but even though “Ronin” has Kate trying to put a justifiable seed of doubt in Yelena’s mind about Clint’s guilt, I suspect it’s already there – if Yelena really wanted swift vengeance for Natasha’s death, she probably wouldn’t need a sweet little payday from Eleanor Bishop to get the job done.

Kate’s meeting with Yelena was a treat. Their conversation went on for a while, but I could have watched Florence Pugh and Hailee Steinfeld talk all day honestly. The actresses chew on those characters so well, and Pugh plays with Yelena’s dangerous potential like a sparkly-eyed cat toying with a terrified mouse. Will these two ultimately become partners? Young Avengers? Friends? Lovers? Ay, the internet’s heart wants what it wants.

Meanwhile, the sweetness of Kate and Eleanor’s relationship comes to the fore. Eleanor’s betrayal, plus the revelation that she’s in cahoots with Wilson Fisk, is likely to hit Kate pretty hard. Who can Kate really trust? Who can she believe in? Perhaps she’s better off shedding some of her innocence to realise that a superhero’s life is nearly always a heartbroken mess.

Echo, who was unexpectedly introduced to the MCU as more of a villain, is also asking some hard questions; her quest to kill Ronin now in turmoil after Clint grabbed the chessboard and threw all the pieces in the air. Maya’s right hand man Kazi wasn’t present the night her father was killed by Ronin because “Uncle” didn’t want him hurt when he ordered the hit, so she may accidentally find herself drifting towards Ronin’s side, rather than being at his throat.

As we head into Hawkeye’s finale, some murky truths have finally come to light and Ronin is no longer waiting in the shadows. He is a part of Clint’s soul that he can never kill – a monster than he and his family must live with until his dying breath, and perhaps beyond. Like Clint, Maya and Yelena are weapons manipulated by those who do not wish to get their hands dirty. Now each must decide how long they will stand to be used before backfiring.

The mystery of the Avengers Compound Rolex watch once again takes a backseat in this episode, but that’s ok. If the breadcrumbs of Clint and Laura’s past lead to where I think they’re leading, Clint won’t be the only one coming home for Christmas.

Want to dig deeper into the Marvel Cinematic Universe? Please consider subscribing to Marvel Standom on the Den of Geek YouTube channel, where we dish out weekly episodes on all the new Marvel TV series, trailers and movie releases. If YouTube’s not your thing, you can listen to Marvel Standom on Spotify and Apple, too.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The post Hawkeye Episode 5 Review: Fianchetto appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/30w8iZU

[thefutureisplywoodbikes]

Harte Rates, 2020, #1

I have watched some films.  Here are the films I have watched.

1. What We Do in the Shadows (2014) - 8/10

Good cast.  Good fun.  Does well with it’s budget, sparingly employing effective special effects and makes good use of the mockumentary format.  Liked it, but didn’t love it.

2. Manhattan Baby (1982) - 5/10 This was originally planned to be one of Fulci’s most expensive films but having had it’s budget cut in half during production what you get is a fairly pedestrian disappointment.  Some good photography and a smattering of half-decent effects work suggests that things could have been better had the producers not fucked him over, but ultimately it’s a pretty forgettable affair.  (As evidenced by the fact I can’t really remember what happened)

3. My Cousin Vinny (1992) - 8/10

Not sure if it was watching Home Alone and The Irishman at the tail-end of last year that prompted me to re-watch this, but fondly remembering it from my childhood I wanted to see how it held up.  It holds up well.  Yes, it’s implausibly plotted, but it’s sharply scripted the result is an amiable romp with some great performances, not least Marisa Tomei’s Oscar winning performance as the titular Vinny’s long-suffering but supportive fiancee.

4. Little Women (2019) - 8/10

My first trip to the cinema this year and a very pleasant way to start; this was a welcome antidote to the gloom and horror that 2020 was offering up in the real world.  It’s a refreshingly nice film.  It reminded me a bit of Terms of Endearment but less overtly sentimental.  Good performances all round from a strong ensemble, with Florence Pugh and Saoirse Ronan standing out as especially accomplished.  Timothy Chalomet is also good and avoids being annoying with a character that easily could be.  Less immediately likeable than Ladybird for me, the film is smartly constructed and directed with assurance and restraint and a good eye for colour.  Well worth a look.

5. It's My Turn (1980) - 5/10

I mostly watched this because this it was a 1980 film featuring Michael Douglas and Charles Grodin that I’d never heard of and because I sometimes like to watch obscure stuff I’m not invested in to fall asleep to.  It’s not exceptional but it has it’s moments and by focussing on the male stars to start I’ve done it a bit of a disservice.  Jill Clayburn, whose name I know but am otherwise largely unfamiliar with, is the real star of the show.  Directed by Claudia Weill from a script by Eleanor Bergstein (who’d go on to write Dirty Dancing) you get a refreshingly nuanced and complex take on the romantic comedy with an intelligent and accomplished woman (Clayburn plays a Maths professor) at it’s centre and, like watching Varda (though to a far lesser extent) you are reminded of how much more interesting things can be when women are able to be in control of telling their own stories.  The plot’s mediocre and there’s too much music throughout, but the script has some decent moments and there’s more emotional maturity at play in how it handles it’s relationships than you tend to see in mainstream cinema.  It’s certainly not great but might it satisfy your curiosity if you keep your expectations low.

6. La Dolce Vita (1960) - 9/10

Unquestionably a masterpiece, but having seen 8 1/2 last year it’s hard not to look at this as to some extent a rehearsal for that film, which has a more even tone and benefits from the director’s injection of self reproach and whimsical humour.  There’s still lot’s to love here though and i found myself checking off traces of it’s influence in much that has come since; Antonioni’s depiction of Rome in L’Eclisse, the depth of contrast and camera movements of Cuaron’s Roma, Altman’s drifting focus and, seemingly, the entire basis of Sorrentino’s career.  (That last part may be unfair, I’ve only seen The Great Beauty and Youth)  It also seems to me to be in part a check to the romanticised depiction of Rome that featured in Roman Holiday, where the paparazzo and exploitative reporter are loveable rogues (and American ex-pats) who ultimately comport themselves honourably.   Fellini’s Rome, while still bristling and bursting with glamour is far more cut-throat.  Structured over 7 days in the life of Mastroianni’s jaded journalist, the film largely luxuriates in the heady Cosmopolitan glitz of life among the rich and famous in 60′s Rome the film also ventures to some surprisingly dark places and though repeat viewings may change my mind, it felt it little uneven in tone on this viewing.  Also, while the film features a parade of great actresses it doesn’t really give them much to do other than present themselves for adoration and/or degradation, something that 8 1/2 also improves on (though arguably marginally)

7. Motel Hell (1980) - 6.5/10

A better than average little 80′s horror with competent direction, some visual flair in it’s use of colour and it’s tongue in it’s cheek.  Oh and a chainsaw battle, if that sort of thing floats your boat.

8. Daisies (1966) 10/10

Fucking magnificent.  An anarchic, inventive delight full of charm, wit and compelling imagery.

9. Five Fingers of Death (1972) - 6/10

Aka King Boxer.  I thought I’d seen this before but I’m not sure I had.  It’s decent enough; it’s better plotted/paced than a lot of kung fu films, if you’re not already a fan though I’m not sure this’ll convert you.

10. Sweet Smell of Success (1957) - 9/10

Burt Lancaster shines as the black-hearted Broadway columnist J.J. Hunsecker manipulating Tony Curtis’s press agent into a downward spiral of dark deeds in pursuit of J.J.’s favour.  Blackly cynical, it sits well along-side Billy Wilder’s Ace In The Hole and the aforementioned La Dolce Vita for the disdain it shows toward the less scrupulous side of the journalistic trade, and has a wonderfully mean script full of barbed jibes and menace.  Also of note is the beautifully textured photography of pioneering cinematographer James Wong Howe, who also shot Hud and Seconds among many, many other films.  It’s a shame more contemporary films don’t portray the rich and powerful with as much unashamed venom as this delivers.

11. Who Saw Her Die? (1972) - 6.5/10

A better than average Giallo; the plot’s still clunky and overcomplicated but the imagery is good, there’s some decent stunts and effects and there’s a great score by Ennio Morricone that elevates it.

12. El Topo (1970) - 8/10

I last saw this many years ago as a midnight movie and fell asleep for an uncertain amount of time in the middle so it was nice to see it in full.  Actually, nice probably isn’t the word.  While there’s amazing imagery and a grand meandering and maniacal story, the massive quantity of dead animals that feature in the film (and were killed exclusively for it’s aesthetic) dampened my enthusiasm somewhat for it’s artful expression.  There’s some amazing scenes and the idiosyncratic allure of Jodorowsky persist, but I’m in large part glad they don’t make ‘em like they used to.  The Dance of Reality is a far friendlier and engaging showcase for his creative spirit, as is the excellent documentary Jodorosky’s Dune

13. Cameraman: The Life and Work of Jack Cardiff (2010) -  8/10

A solid little documentary about one of cinema’s greatest cinematographers.  The man whose technicolor wizardry was instrumental in bringing the Red Shoes, A Matter of Life and Death, Black Narcissus to life.  Also shot The African Queen and Rambo: First Blood Part II.  Well worth a watch to spark or rekindle enthusiasm for catching up with Powell and Pressburger if nothing else.

14. Les Demoiselles de Rochefort (1967) - 9/10

An infectiously gleeful musical, where even a slightly baffling subplot about a serial killer doesn’t manage to dampen the mood.  Wonderfully colourful, what it might slightly lack in choreographic finesse it more than makes up for with gallic charm and sly artful direction that teases and tortures its audience with the knowledge that it possesses and the characters do not.

15. Winter Light (1963) - 10/10

81 bleak beautiful minutes of gorgeously shot, pristinely directed cinema.  Devilishly well written and wonderfully acted (Gunnar Björnstrand and Ingrid Thulin are particularly excellent) you get a similar sense of the philosophical and theological searching you get with Nuri Bilge Ceylan delivered in a fraction of the time. 

16.  F/X2 (1991) - 5/10

Somehow they managed to make a sequel more ridiculous than F/X Murder by Illusion.  A sillier re-run of the original has Bryan Brown returning as “Rollie” Tyler and managing to foil corrupt cops and mafia henchmen with the questionable aid of Bryan Dennehy’s detective ineptitude and a bunch of McGuyver style bullshit.  Also, overlong.  No-one needs 109 minutes of this.  It saddens me somewhat that this was directed by Richard Franklin, whose 1981 film Roadgames is a taut little Ozsploitation delight.  Watch that instead.

Right think that’ll do.  See you in a couple of weeks.  (*fingers crossed*)