#if I'll overthink it a second more I know it'll end up together with my millions black posts at the bottom of my drafts

[moon-rivr]

falling behind

pairing: college!miguel x inexperienced spanish speaking fem reader (translation provided 🫡)

warnings: established fake relationship (i honestly mixed like three tropes into this) and oral (f receiving)

author’s note: this was somewhat inspired by ‘falling behind’ by laufey (highly recommend 🙏🏼) and a lil bit by the spanish love deception. anyways i had a lot of fun writing this so i hope y’all enjoy :3

word count: 4.6K

You always seemed to be behind when you compared your life to your classmates' lives, almost like you were sitting in the backseat waiting for your life to begin. A part of you secretly wanted what they had: to get asked out, to experience teenage dating, but you never had the courage to seek out and go get it. Sure, your family made some smart remarks about how your cousins were already dating but you pushed those away since you didn't want to make a big deal. You honestly thought that it wouldn't come back to bite you until you got back home from your class one day.

You got back home from your chemistry class to see your roommate, Miguel O’Hara, hunched over at the kitchen table reading some envelopes. You set your bag down on the couch and walk over to the table, sitting down next to him. "Hey, anything good come in the mail?" You asked, visibly startling him as he looked up at you. "Just our utility bills. Oh, and you got something from back home," he responded, handing you an envelope with your sister's name on the sender address. You wanted to put off reading the letter, but you decided to bite the bullet instead.

"Ah fuck," you mumbled, holding up the wedding invitation as you let out a small sigh. "C'mon think of all the leftovers you could bring," Miguel suggested, raising his hands up in defense when you looked over at him. "I'll probably just say I'm sick or something," you spoke, more so to yourself as Miguel’s brows furrowed. "It's just, if all my aunts and whatnot see me at the wedding without someone, they're gonna start commenting on it. How I'm the only one alone," you explained, hoping that it would ease the confusion on Miguel’s face.

"So I'll be your fake boyfriend for the night," he suggested, like he was asking what type of cereal he should get. Your brows furrowed as you sat down at the table, folding your arms. "What about your girlfriend? Dana? or Xina? Whichever one you're dating now," you countered, looking up at him. "Well.. That's actually where you come in. Dana broke up with me so I was kinda hoping that if she saw me and you together, she'd come back," he replied, sitting down across from you.

"And what about if this blows up in our face and I end up homeless, Mig?"

"First of all, this isn't gonna blow up in our face. And second of all, I think we can separate our façade away from our home life."

"You're forgetting I've never dated anyone. I have zero idea how this all works."

"I'll teach you about what to do. Plus, you'll be able to have some experience when you actually do date someone."

You wanted to continue arguing with Miguel, tell him how farfetched this idea sounded but it seemed like for every argument you had, he had a counterattack. Your mind couldn't help but race with everything that could possibly go wrong with this arrangement, but you decided to trust Miguel’s confidence in it. "Since it'll be beneficial for the both of us, okay," you said after a moment of deliberation, extending your hand out. "Are we in the mafia or something?" he muttered, rolling his eyes as you glared at him and shook your hand. You were expecting him to pull away after a while, seeing how resistant he was to it but he didn't. He simply stroked your hand with his thumb, intertwining his fingers with yours. "Our first lesson's handholding," Miguel elaborated and you were about to explain how you didn't need his help but he interrupted you. "Look, I know you know how to do it. But you would've started to overthink if I told you beforehand," he stated, keeping your hand with his.

The next few weeks before the wedding had been pretty uneventful, you had been telling Miguel about your family members and which ones to look out for and he had been teaching you all the basic parts of being in a relationship. The two of you were currently sitting at a Starbucks, helping each other study for a chemistry exam when you heard Miguel’s name being called from behind you. "Migs! I haven't seen you in such a long time, how are you?" Dana asked once she appeared in sight, completely ignoring you as she went to go stake her claim. "I've been good. Been busy with my girlfriend and all," he replied, his gaze locked on you as he smiled. You could've sworn that Dana's eyes turned into little daggers as she faced you. "Oh, I'm so happy for you!" Dana decided to say, starting to talk about some frat party she wanted to take Miguel to.

You couldn't help but notice that the entire time that Dana was talking to Miguel and batting her lashes at him, he kept his gaze solely on you. You decided to push it off, assuring yourself that he was doing that to make her jealous. "I thought the whole point was to get her back, why didn't you agree to the frat party?" You asked when Dana left, taking a sip from your coffee as his brows furrowed. "Oh, the frat party, yeah. I mean, she says she wants to spend time with me but who gets back together at a party, y'know?" He responded, shrugging before going back to his school work. You decided not to push the subject any further and continued to study with Miguel.

You and Miguel had spent the following weeks going on study dates or just little dates between the two of you that didn't feel like research anymore. Eventually, the wedding approached the two of you and you were pacing in your living room. Miguel stood at the corner of the room, watching as you talked to yourself and freaked out. "What if this goes all wrong? I’m gonna be such an idiot," you muttered to yourself, continuing to walk around the living room. You didn't notice when Miguel walked over, placing his hands on your shoulders as he held you still. "Hey, calm down, you're gonna make a hole in the floor. On a serious note though, you're not gonna look like an idiot. We rehearsed this through and through and you're a natural when it comes to being affectionate," he remarked, massaging your shoulders gently.

You took a few seconds to calm down and stop your pacing, wrapping your hands tightly around Miguel’s body. "Thank you. For getting me out of my head and for even agreeing to this shenanigan," you spoke up after Miguel wrapped his arms around you, enveloping your body in his. "Don't worry about it. Go get dressed and we'll get going. We don't wanna miss the food," he replied, pulling back from the hug as he smiled reassuringly at you. "And what's wrong with what i'm wearing?" You asked, a brow raised as you referred to the Spider-Man pajamas you were wearing. "Nothing, but I just think those pajamas should be reserved for my eyes only, mm?" He responded, winking at you as you rolled your eyes.

You put on the dress that you picked out with Miguel a couple days ago, the material fitting around you snugly. You sat in front of the mirror, following the makeup tutorial your sister had sent you. You were in the middle of doing your eyeliner when suddenly you poked your eye. "Motherfucker!" You grumbled, putting your hand against your eye as you felt it watering. Miguel walked in after hearing your yell, stopping in his tracks when he took a glimpse at you. "I know it looks bad but I'll be ready in about thirty minutes," you assured him, wiping off the smudged mascara as you suppressed the urge to groan. "Bad isn't necessarily the word I would have used," he mumbled, leaning against the door frame.

"Maybe you're taking too much at one time. Makeup's a journey and shit, so just do what you know how to do while you get better at the other stuff," he suggested, rubbing small circles on your back. You looked at him through the mirror, nodding as you took off your makeup to start fresh. "I don't know how you always do that. Say all the right things to make me feel better, i mean," you admitted, deciding to turn off the makeup tutorial and go by what with Miguel said. Miguel lingered by the door frame, crossing his arms together as he watched you do your makeup before eventually going off to get dressed himself.

You and Miguel arrive at the reception hall at a pretty decent hour, since it wasn't too early but the caterers were barely starting to pass out the food. You jump a little when you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning around to face your mom. She leaned in, kissing you on the cheek as she embraced you. "Hola mami, ¿cómo estás?" you greet her, watching as her eyes immediately drift over to the man next to you. (hi mommy, how are you?) "Bien ¿y tú? ¿Y quién es este?" she asked, cutting the formalities short to find out what she needed to know. (good and you? and who’s this?)

"Este es mi novio, Miguel." (this is my boyfriend, Miguel)

"Ay mija, pero que guapo esta. Y que alto, casi llega al techo. ¿Porque no me lo habías presentado?" (oh daughter, he’s so handsome. and he’s so tall, he almost reaches the roof. why haven’t you presented him to me?)

You were about to speak up when Miguel suddenly cut you off, extending his hand towards your mom. "Un placer, señora. Y bueno, usted sabe como es su hija y lo tanto que le gusta ser privada," he responded, your mom’s eyes widening a bit. (a pleasure ma’am. and well, you know your daughter and how much she likes being private) "Un placer también. Usted es mas aceptable que el poster que ella le daba besos," your mom remarked, laughing as Miguel joined her. (a pleasure too. you are more acceptable than the poster she used to kiss) You grabbed his hand, pulling him away to avoid any other embarrassments. "You kissed a poster?" Miguel asked in between laughter, wiping at some imaginary tears from his eyes. "We're never speaking of this again," you grumbled, watching as his eyes sparkled with your reaction, laughing even harder. "I'm never dropping this."

Your mom pulled you and Miguel over to the table where all your aunts were so you'd say hello and make pleasantries with them. You could tell they wanted to say something about Miguel, surprised to see you here in public with a man by your side but they chose to bite their tongue back. Well, all but one. "¿Y tu eres su novio?" One of your least liked aunts asked Miguel, pointing a fork at his direction. (and you’re her boyfriend?) "Si señora. Apenas empezamos con la relacion pero la quiero mucho," he responded, looking at your aunt as she laughed. (yes ma’am. we just started with the relationship but i like her a lot) "Pero que bueno. Pensábamos que se iba morir virgen la pobre," she remarked, her eyes glinting with amusement as your other aunts laughed. (oh, how good. we thought the poor girl was going to die a virgin.)

You were used to these kinds of remarks and you knew that it was best to keep your mouth shut and let them glide through. "Disculpe señora, con todo respeto, pero a usted ¿que le importa? ¿Es que no tiene vida para andarse preocupando de lo que ella hace? Lo que usted deberia estarse preocupando es sobre su marido," Miguel replied, keeping his tone even as he grabbed your hand. (excuse me ma’am, with all respect, but what do you care? do you not have anything else going on in your life to be worrying about what she’s doing? what you should be worrying about is your husband.)

You and Miguel sat in the car at the venue parking lot as he stroked your hand softly. "I'm sorry if I stepped a line in there. It's just.. What does she even care about who you're dating or what you're doing?" He spoke up after a couple seconds, looking directly at your eyes. "I really appreciate you doing that, Miguel. Every time I tell my mom about it, she takes their side and tells me to keep quiet about it. I mean, yeah, they're probably never gonna wanna talk to me but that's cool," you said with a small laugh, meeting Miguel’s gaze. he tilted your chin towards him, his lips meeting against yours tentatively.

His touch was featherlight as he leaned into kiss you, almost like he was scared you weren't going to reciprocate. You felt your heart beat hammering as you tried to recall the kissing techniques you'd seen in YouTube videos, shutting your eyes as you leaned in. "Ow," you mumbled, opening your eyes to find out that you accidentally bumped into Miguel’s nose. "It's okay, chiquita. I know it's your first time," he assured you, holding your cheek as he tilted his face to the side. (little one) "Just keep your eyes open until our lips connect and then just follow what I'm doing, don't overthink it," he told you, leaning in once more to kiss you.

The moment you felt your lips connect against his felt like fireworks, even if it was a little awkward. Your lips were stiff as he kissed you, unsure of what to do before you remembered his advice and decided to follow his lead. You felt comfortable shutting your eyes so you did, your hands reaching up to his hair like you wanted to pull him closer. You'd heard from your friends about their first kiss stories, how it was an awkward clash of lips but it felt more like a synchronized dance with Miguel. He deepened the intensity of the kiss when he felt that you were comfortable, his hand moving to your cheek in doing so.

You two pulled away a couple seconds later to catch your breath, the realization that you'd not only kissed your fake boyfriend but your roommate hitting you hard. You could've sworn that Miguel read your mind because he said, "I saw someone coming out the door and I figured we might as well sell it since they were looking this way." A fiber of your being hoped that your first kiss wouldn't have ended up as just something to prove, but you knew that it would lead you to uncharted territory with Miguel so you nodded along.

The ride home was mostly quiet, the music on the radio filling up the atmosphere. You thanked Miguel once more for helping you with the wedding dilemma before locking yourself up in your room. You didn't have the energy to figure out what was happening between the two of you and quite frankly, you thought you were probably being delusional, thinking too hard about things that would be normal in a fake relationship. You pushed those thoughts away as you changed out of the dress, hoping that you'd be able to get some peace of mind.

After a couple minutes of tossing and turning on your bed, you decided to go talk to Miguel since you had a feeling you wouldn't get some clarity until you did. You knocked on his door, hesitantly, as you swayed from foot to foot while you waited for his answer. Your jaw almost touched the floor when he opened the door, wearing no shirt and a low-clinging pair of grey sweatpants. You had to force yourself to look up at him when he let out a small cough, noticing the glasses he had on. "Is there something you needed?" He asked, a brow arched as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. In your defense, you tried really hard not to look, but it was impossible to resist the way he biceps flexed when he did that. "You."

Your eyes widened as you realized what had come out of your mouth, Miguel’s face one of amusement as he started to laugh. "What I meant to say was, I wanted an explanation from you. What did that kiss mean tonight?" you asked, a brow raised as you folded your arms. "I told you chiquita, to sell it to the person walking out of the party," he spoke, but you noticed that his eyes wouldn't meet yours. You pressed your lips together but decided not to push it any further, walking away. You turned around when Miguel grabbed your arm, he looked like he wanted to say something more. "I want more than just kisses with you." Your mind began going haywire at what he was saying but what you managed to blurt out was, "Because we're fake dating?"

Miguel let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. "No, not because we're fake dating," he spoke up after a while, tilting your chin up. "I want more than just kisses with you too," you told him, watching as his eyes darkened a bit. "I'm not gonna sleep with you until you're certain that my feelings for you are real. None of this fake dating shit," he whispered, leaning in as he kissed your cheek. You felt a bit disappointed as he spoke, but you realized where he was coming from though that didn’t stop the desire igniting in you. "I need you, Miguel."

Miguel let out a small sigh, almost like he was conflicted on what to do. "Lay down on the bed, chiquita," he finally relented and you laid down on the bed, awaiting for his next move. He set down his glasses on his bedside table before he laid down next to you, his hand moving to your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you. He continued doing that until you two were a panting, breathless mess and he played with the hem of your sleep pants. "Are you okay if we go further?" He asked, not wanting to intimidate you by doing too much too soon. "Y-Yeah," you whispered, wishing your voice sounded more affirmative than breathy, but you felt overwhelmed by everything Miguel was doing.

He slowly took off your pajama pants so he'd be able to stop himself if you got uncomfortable at any point before he settled in between your legs. Before you got a chance to ask what he was doing, he began kissing his way from your calf to your inner thigh. He gently nipped at the skin, his teeth grazing it slightly as he continued with his movements. He hooked his arms underneath your legs, putting them on his shoulders before leaning in to your clothed pussy. You felt embarrassed by how much wetness had accumulated since he'd barely even kissed you but that was quickly pushed aside when Miguel started to lick you through your underwear.

He slid off your panties after a while of you wiggling to get more from him, his lips curled in amused smirk as he took them off. He started off slow, collecting the slick that was clinging to your folds before delving in. He ate you out like a man starved and you couldn't help but moan out at the strange sensations. He let you close your thighs around his head, letting out soft grunts into your pussy as you tightened around him. The vibrations from his mouth shot straight to your spine, making your back arch from the bed. He held you still as he started to suck on your folds.

His mouth enclosed around your clit, looking up at you as he flicked his mouth. "Keep your eyes on me," he whispered when he saw you looking away, slowing down his movements. He continued once more once your eyes met his, having you watch as he kept his mouth connected with your clit. He took one of his fingers, gently probing them inside before sticking it in. he curled his finger, making way to stroke your g-spot with every movement. "So tight," he spoke against your clit, putting another finger in as he started moving them in a scissoring motion. Your mouth parted into a 'o' shape as he continued, overwhelmed by the sensation. His two fingers curled, finding your g-spot as they brushed up against it every time he thrust his fingers in.

You pulled on his hair, pushing your pelvis closer to his mouth, almost drowning him with your pussy. And you could tell that he wouldn't have minded it that much with the way he groaned in your pussy, slurping the juices that were leaking out. You felt a strange sensation building in your lower stomach, like a knot just waiting to unravel. "Mig! Stop, I'm gonna pee," you blurted out, feeling a bit embarrassed by the admission. You had expected Miguel to slow down but he continued with the same vigor, if not, only more motivated. The knot unraveled in you quickly and you released against miguel's face, feeling embarrassed at the thought you might've peed on him. He took his fingers out, sucking your juices off them as he looked straight into you. "You didn't pee on me, don't worry," he assured you, grabbing a wet wipe to clean you up.

You and Miguel had been threading a delicate line throughout the course of a week, only talking to each other when it came to basic chores and what to get for dinner. You were in the middle of doing classwork on the dining table when Miguel came over, sitting on the chair across from you. "Hey, I know things have been weird between us, but do you still want to head to that Halloween party with me?" He asked, reminding you of the Halloween party that he'd asked about two weeks ago. "Well I already have the costume, so it'd be a shame not to," you responded, not willing yourself to look up at him. Partly from the fact that you weren't sure where your late night rendezvous left you and from the fact that you'd looked up porn after that night, using Miguel as the object of your fantasies when you got yourself off.

You came back from your classes about five hours later and you noticed that Miguel was in his room blasting music, probably getting ready for the Halloween party so you decided to do the same. You managed to find a simple makeup tutorial for the bruises you were doing, given that you and Miguel were going as Tyler and the Narrator from Fight Club. You put on the suit and grabbed some of the bars of soap that Miguel had gotten for the two of you before stepping out of your room. "Hey, do you think you can help me with the bruises? I just can't get them to look realistic, y'know?" Miguel asked when he came out of his room, the bruises on his face looking like blotches of purple.

You had Miguel sit down while you blended the colors in his face, trying not to pay mind to just how much it affected you having him this close to you. You finished up a little while later and grabbed some fake blood, dabbing it in with your finger around his mouth and the cut you'd made on his cheek. "Has anyone told you how good you look covered in blood?" You asked absentmindedly as Miguel burst out into laughter. "Must be why everyone was so eager to help me out after a fight in high school," he replied, standing up once you finished. He thanked you for the work you'd done and you two quickly headed out to the dorms.

The party was in full swing when you two arrived and you couldn't help but notice that a lot of people were coming to say hi to Miguel. You'd always pictured him as the quiet genetics student, but seeing him out in public with his friends was a decent experience. You'd half expected him to leave you to go entertain them, but he grabbed your hand and led you to the back where there was more space to talk. "If at any point you want to leave, just let me know and we'll go, okay?" He told you, waiting for you to nod in affirmation before he took you to hang out with his friends.

He introduced you as his girlfriend, which struck you as odd since you would've thought he'd tell them about your arrangement, but you liked the way it sounded coming out of his mouth. His friends were nice enough, they included you in the conversation and they were pretty nice to talk to overall. "So how long have you two been dating?" One of his friends asked, looking over at you. You looked up at Miguel for help and luckily, he answered that plea. "We've been dating for about two months now, I'd say. But I've been liking her for a bit longer than that," he replied with a small laugh, and you couldn't help but feel your heart beating faster at his comment. Even if it was something he added to make the story sound more believable, you wanted to believe so badly that he actually liked you.

The rest of the party was spent in a blur of talking with his friends, dancing, and getting shots. Even when you stopped by to get shots, Miguel’s gaze never left yours. You could've sworn that you saw his fists clench up when a guy in a Spider-Man costume tried to talk to you, but as soon as you blinked, it was gone so you decided to push it away. You excused yourself to the bathroom a little after, and Miguel insisted on helping you find your way through the large house. His friends had a weird look on their face but you didn't question it too much out of the need to pee.

You came out of the restroom and you were a little surprised when you noticed that Miguel hadn't stayed behind to wait for you. You walked down the large hallway, stopping when you saw Miguel walking into one of the rooms with a girl in a devil costume. You decided to look through the creak in the door, seeing what Miguel was up to and quickly came to the realization that it wasn't just a girl in a devil costume. It was Dana and she had her arms all around miguel. "Please miguel, I've missed you so bad and I can tell that you do too. Come on, you can't seriously be happy with that inexperienced virgin?"

You decided to leave the party after witnessing Dana talk to Miguel, feeling a burning sensation in your chest. You knew that this was the whole objective of the arrangement that you and Miguel had going on, but you didn't expect it to hurt this much when it ended. You'd grown used to being miguel's 'girlfriend' and spending time with him, that you hadn't anticipated it would come to an end so soon. You locked yourself up in your room, feeling completely angry at yourself for being so foolish about the circumstances as you scrubbed away the makeup of the night. You were thinking about what to do about healing the burning you felt in your chest, listening to Frank Ocean and having a good cry seemed like the best one, when you heard a knock on your door.

You opened your bedroom door, seeing Miguel standing there with a solemn look on his face. "Hey, I heard what Dana told you earlier. I bet you're happy that she came back to you so i think we should end this. I'll find someone else and.. use the experience you taught me," you told him, attempting to muster a smile as his gaze darkened. "You're not gonna do that, okay?" He responded, his brows furrowing as he spoke. "And why not?" you asked, feeling your own smile falter as he spoke.

"Because I don't want you to find anyone else."

[alostlittleriverlotus]

Im sitting here at 6 am having many thoughts and feelings about the lack of contact with my friends.

The shitty thing is that while I don't mind silence (it gives me a break from having to pretend or worry or mask in some ways), it starts to get to me. It's been a few months now. No replies, no messages. My mind is wandering. My friend's birthday is in a few days and no invitation. We didn't even get together for Christmas or New Year's. I have presents here, wrapped and unwrapped, that have not gone to them. I'm too terrified to reach out and so I'm sitting here in silence.

I'm hyperaware of the last time something is. I'm scared that the end will be the last time something happens. And here I sit, wondering if that interaction was the last I would have with them. And it's starting to become true.

I've never had stable friendships. I met them at 15, but even then, it took years before I truly felt somewhat safe. And even now, there's still a barrier that I cannot be entirely truly honest. It's like I'm always waiting for my friendships to end. One wrong move, too much silence, it's over. I don't try to fight because I spent years trying and fighting, only making things worse. So I sit in a waiting game that feels like it'll never end.

And even now, I wonder if I even want a romantic relationship. I'm isolating from others and it's terrifying because people don't wait around. They don't want to deal with your weird moods or your periods of changing how you are. Only one friend, MA, knows every tiny thing about me and has allowed me to unmask. I'll always have them. I'm just scared of losing the few people I have. Friendship is what I desire and crave, but it's so twisted from so many different disorders that it's hard to ever be able to fully connect with people. And my girlfriend is included in that since she's my best friend as much as she is my girlfriend.

It's terrifying. Any moment could be the last that we interact. I see their lives, they're both fine, but I'm constantly wondering, why they don't reach out.

It started months ago when I saw my friend was at my other friend's house. I didn't even know she was back in town yet she was there? Not bothering to see me? At the time I was quarantining since my family members had COVID, but they didn't know that, they couldn't have known that, which means I was left out. The last time my friend and I hung out was with Pokemon releasing. We texted a bit more, sharing fun interactions in game. Then it was silent. My friend has said before they don't mind the silence cause they know I'm okay and I'm there if anything happens. I try to remember that, but the paranoia fills my mind.

I've not had stable friendships. It's always been so tough especially knowing I was second priority to anyone else. I could not be honest, I could not express myself right, there was so much drama and so many fights, friends I considered close seemed to not want me around and we stopped talking. "I don't know why I ever stopped talking to you" she said before continuing to never speak to me again. Friends saying they'd come to my birthday only to forget. Small birthdays because no one could make it. I tried so hard to have friends, but they never lasted. These are my longest friendships yet and I so wish to keep them, but I'm so terrified to fight for them.

So here I lay awake. Guilt ridden from MA staying up because of me and mind overthinking. I just had to rant. I'm so tired and overwhelmed.

[innuendostudios]

Thoughts on: Criterion's Neo-Noir Collection

I have written up all 26 films* in the Criterion Channel's Neo-Noir Collection.

Legend: rw - rewatch; a movie I had seen before going through the collection dnrw - did not rewatch; if a movie met two criteria (a. I had seen it within the last 18 months, b. I actively dislike it) I wrote it up from memory.

* in September, Brick leaves the Criterion Channel and is replaced in the collection with Michael Mann's Thief. May add it to the list when that happens.

Note: These are very "what was on my mind after watching." No effort has been made to avoid spoilers, nor to make the plot clear for anyone who hasn't seen the movies in question. Decide for yourself if that's interesting to you.

Cotton Comes to Harlem I feel utterly unequipped to asses this movie. This and Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song the following year are regularly cited as the progenitors of the blaxploitation genre. (This is arguably unfair, since both were made by Black men and dealt much more substantively with race than the white-directed films that followed them.) Its heroes are a couple of Black cops who are treated with suspicion both by their white colleagues and by the Black community they're meant to police. I'm not 100% clear on whether they're the good guys? I mean, I think they are. But the community's suspicion of them seems, I dunno... well-founded? They are working for The Man. And there's interesting discussion to the had there - is the the problem that the law is carried out by racists, or is the law itself racist? Can Black cops make anything better? But it feels like the film stacks the deck in Gravedigger and Coffin Ed's favor; the local Black church is run by a conman, the Back-to-Africa movement is, itself, a con, and the local Black Power movement is treated as an obstacle. Black cops really are the only force for justice here. Movie portrays Harlem itself as a warm, thriving, cultured community, but the people that make up that community are disloyal and easily fooled. Felt, to me, like the message was "just because they're cops doesn't mean they don't have Black soul," which, nowadays, we would call copaganda. But, then, do I know what I'm talking about? Do I know how much this played into or off of or against stereotypes from 1970? Was this a radical departure I don't have the context to appreciate? Is there substance I'm too white and too many decades removed to pick up on? Am I wildly overthinking this? I dunno. Seems like everyone involved was having a lot of fun, at least. That bit is contagious.

Across 110th Street And here's the other side of the "race film" equation. Another movie set in Harlem with a Black cop pulled between the police, the criminals, and the public, but this time the film is made by white people. I like it both more and less. Pro: this time the difficult position of Black cop who's treated with suspicion by both white cops and Black Harlemites is interrogated. Con: the Black cop has basically no personality other than "honest cop." Pro: the racism of the police force is explicit and systemic, as opposed to comically ineffectual. Con: the movie is shaped around a racist white cop who beats the shit out of Black people but slowly forms a bond with his Black partner. Pro: the Black criminal at the heart of the movie talks openly about how the white world has stacked the deck against him, and he's soulful and relateable. Con: so of course he dies in the end, because the only way privileged people know to sympathetize with minorities is to make them tragic (see also: The Boys in the Band, Philadelphia, and Brokeback Mountain for gay men). Additional con: this time Harlem is portrayed as a hellhole. Barely any of the community is even seen. At least the shot at the end, where the criminal realizes he's going to die and throws the bag of money off a roof and into a playground so the Black kids can pick it up before the cops reclaim it was powerful. But overall... yech. Cotton Comes to Harlem felt like it wasn't for me; this feels like it was 100% for me and I respect it less for that.

The Long Goodbye (rw) The shaggiest dog. Like much Altman, more compelling than good, but very compelling. Raymond Chandler's story is now set in the 1970's, but Philip Marlowe is the same Philip Marlowe of the 1930's. I get the sense there was always something inherently sad about Marlowe. Classic noir always portrayed its detectives as strong-willed men living on the border between the straightlaced world and its seedy underbelly, crossing back and forth freely but belonging to neither. But Chandler stresses the loneliness of it - or, at least, the people who've adapted Chandler do. Marlowe is a decent man in an indecent world, sorting things out, refusing to profit from misery, but unable to set anything truly right. Being a man out of step is here literalized by putting him forty years from the era where he belongs. His hardboiled internal monologue is now the incessant mutterings of the weird guy across the street who never stops smoking. Like I said: compelling! Kael's observation was spot on: everyone in the movie knows more about the mystery than he does, but he's the only one who cares. The mystery is pretty threadbare - Marlowe doesn't detect so much as end up in places and have people explain things to him. But I've seen it two or three times now, and it does linger.

Chinatown (rw) I confess I've always been impressed by Chinatown more than I've liked it. Its story structure is impeccable, its atmosphere is gorgeous, its noirish fatalism is raw and real, its deconstruction of the noir hero is well-observed, and it's full of clever detective tricks (the pocket watches, the tail light, the ruler). I've just never connected with it. Maybe it's a little too perfectly crafted. (I feel similar about Miller's Crossing.) And I've always been ambivalent about the ending. In Towne's original ending, Evelyn shoots Noah Cross dead and get arrested, and neither she nor Jake can tell the truth of why she did it, so she goes to jail for murder and her daughter is in the wind. Polansky proposed the ending that exists now, where Evelyn just dies, Cross wins, and Jake walks away devastated. It communicates the same thing: Jake's attempt to get smart and play all the sides off each other instead of just helping Evelyn escape blows up in his face at the expense of the woman he cares about and any sense of real justice. And it does this more dramatically and efficiently than Towne's original ending. But it also treats Evelyn as narratively disposable, and hands the daughter over to the man who raped Evelyn and murdered her husband. It makes the women suffer more to punch up the ending. But can I honestly say that Towne's ending is the better one? It is thematically equal, dramatically inferior, but would distract me less. Not sure what the calculus comes out to there. Maybe there should be a third option. Anyway! A perfect little contraption. Belongs under a glass dome.

Night Moves (rw) Ah yeah, the good shit. This is my quintessential 70's noir. This is three movies in a row about detectives. Thing is, the classic era wasn't as chockablock with hardboiled detectives as we think; most of those movies starred criminals, cops, and boring dudes seduced to the darkness by a pair of legs. Gumshoes just left the strongest impressions. (The genre is said to begin with Maltese Falcon and end with Touch of Evil, after all.) So when the post-Code 70's decided to pick the genre back up while picking it apart, it makes sense that they went for the 'tecs first. The Long Goodbye dragged the 30's detective into the 70's, and Chinatown went back to the 30's with a 70's sensibility. But Night Moves was about detecting in the Watergate era, and how that changed the archetype. Harry Moseby is the detective so obsessed with finding the truth that he might just ruin his life looking for it, like the straight story will somehow fix everything that's broken, like it'll bring back a murdered teenager and repair his marriage and give him a reason to forgive the woman who fucked him just to distract him from some smuggling. When he's got time to kill, he takes out a little, magnetic chess set and recreates a famous old game, where three knight moves (get it?) would have led to a beautiful checkmate had the player just seen it. He keeps going, self-destructing, because he can't stand the idea that the perfect move is there if he can just find it. And, no matter how much we see it destroy him, we, the audience, want him to keep going; we expect a satisfying resolution to the mystery. That's what we need from a detective picture; one character flat-out compares Harry to Sam Spade. But what if the truth is just... Watergate? Just some prick ruining things for selfish reasons? Nothing grand, nothing satisfying. Nothing could be more noir, or more neo-, than that.

Farewell, My Lovely Sometimes the only thing that makes a noir neo- is that it's in color and all the blood, tits, and racism from the books they're based on get put back in. This second stab at Chandler is competant but not much more than that. Mitchum works as Philip Marlowe, but Chandler's dialogue feels off here, like lines that worked on the page don't work aloud, even though they did when Bogie said them. I'll chalk it up to workmanlike but uninspired direction. (Dang this looks bland so soon after Chinatown.) Moose Malloy is a great character, and perfectly cast. (Wasn't sure at first, but it's true.) Some other interesting cats show up and vanish - the tough brothel madam based on Brenda Allen comes to mind, though she's treated with oddly more disdain than most of the other hoods and is dispatched quicker. In general, the more overt racism and misogyny doesn't seem to do anything except make the movie "edgier" than earlier attempts at the same material, and it reads kinda try-hard. But it mostly holds together. *shrug*

The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (dnrw) Didn't care for this at all. Can't tell if the script was treated as a jumping-off point or if the dialogue is 100% improvised, but it just drags on forever and is never that interesting. Keeps treating us to scenes from the strip club like they're the opera scenes in Amadeus, and, whatever, I don't expect burlesque to be Mozart, but Cosmo keeps saying they're an artful, classy joint, and I keep waiting for the show to be more than cheap, lazy camp. How do you make gratuitious nudity boring? Mind you, none of this is bad as a rule - I love digressions and can enjoy good sleaze, and it's clear the filmmakers care about what they're making. They just did not sell it in a way I wanted to buy. Can't remember what edit I watched; I hope it was the 135 minute one, because I cannot imagine there being a longer edit out there.

The American Friend (dnrw) It's weird that this is Patricia Highsmith, right? That Dennis Hopper is playing Tom Ripley? In a cowboy hat? I gather that Minghella's version wasn't true to the source, but I do love that movie, and this is a long, long way from that. This Mr. Ripley isn't even particularly talented! Anyway, this has one really great sequence, where a regular guy has been coerced by crooks into murdering someone on a train platform, and, when the moment comes to shoot, he doesn't. And what follows is a prolonged sequence of an amateur trying to surreptitiously tail a guy across a train station and onto another train, and all the while you're not sure... is he going to do it? is he going to chicken out? is he going to do it so badly he gets caught? It's hard not to put yourself in the protagonist's shoes, wondering how you would handle the situation, whether you could do it, whether you could act on impulse before your conscience could catch up with you. It drags on a long while and this time it's a good thing. Didn't much like the rest of the movie, it's shapeless and often kind of corny, and the central plot hook is contrived. (It's also very weird that this is the only Wim Wenders I've seen.) But, hey, I got one excellent sequence, not gonna complain.

The Big Sleep Unlike the 1946 film, I can follow the plot of this Big Sleep. But, also unlike the 1946 version, this one isn't any damn fun. Mitchum is back as Marlowe (this is three Marlowes in five years, btw), and this time it's set in the 70's and in England, for some reason. I don't find this offensive, but neither do I see what it accomplishes? Most of the cast is still American. (Hi Jimmy!) Still holds together, but even less well than Farewell, My Lovely. But I do find it interesting that the neo-noir era keeps returning to Chandler while it's pretty much left Hammet behind (inasmuch as someone whose genes are spread wide through the whole genre can be left behind). Spade and the Continental Op, straightshooting tough guys who come out on top in the end, seem antiquated in the (post-)modern era. But Marlowe's goodness being out of sync with the world around him only seems more poignant the further you take him from his own time. Nowadays you can really only do Hammett as pastiche, but I sense that you could still play Chandler straight.

Eyes of Laura Mars The most De Palma movie I've seen not made by De Palma, complete with POV shots, paranormal hoodoo, and fixation with sex, death, and whether images of such are art or exploitation (or both). Laura Mars takes photographs of naked women in violent tableux, and has gotten quite famous doing so, but is it damaging to women? The movie has more than a superficial engagement with this topic, but only slightly more than superficial. Kept imagining a movie that is about 30% less serial killer story and 30% more art conversations. (But, then, I have an art degree and have never murdered anyone, so.) Like, museums are full of Biblical paintings full of nude women and slaughter, sometimes both at once, and they're called masterpieces. Most all of them were painted by men on commission from other men. Now Laura Mars makes similar images in modern trappings, and has models made of flesh and blood rather than paint, and it's scandalous? Why is it only controversial once women are getting paid for it? On the other hand, is this just the master's tools? Is she subverting or challenging the male gaze, or just profiting off of it? Or is a woman profiting off of it, itself, a subversion? Is it subversive enough to account for how it commodifies female bodies? These questions are pretty clearly relevant to the movie itself, and the movies in general, especially after the fall of the Hays Code when people were really unrestrained with the blood and boobies. And, heck, the lead is played by the star of Bonnie and Clyde! All this is to say: I wish the movie were as interested in these questions as I am. What's there is a mildly diverting B-picture. There's one great bit where Laura's seeing through the killer's eyes (that's the hook, she gets visions from the murderer's POV; no, this is never explained) and he's RIGHT BEHIND HER, so there's a chase where she charges across an empty room only able to see her own fleeing self from ten feet behind. That was pretty great! And her first kiss with the detective (because you could see a mile away that the detective and the woman he's supposed to protect are gonna fall in love) is immediately followed by the two freaking out about how nonsensical it is for them to fall in love with each other, because she's literally mourning multiple deaths and he's being wildly unprofessional, and then they go back to making out. That bit was great, too. The rest... enh.

The Onion Field What starts off as a seemingly not-that-noirish cops-vs-crooks procedural turns into an agonizingly protracted look at the legal system, with the ultimate argument that the very idea of the law ever resulting in justice is a lie. Hoo! I have to say, I'm impressed. There's a scene where a lawyer - whom I'm not sure is even named, he's like the seventh of thirteen we've met - literally quits the law over how long this court case about two guys shooting a cop has taken. He says the cop who was murdered has been forgotten, his partner has never gotten to move on because the case has lasted eight years, nothing has been accomplished, and they should let the two criminals walk and jail all the judges and lawyers instead. It's awesome! The script is loaded with digressions and unnecessary details, just the way I like it. Can't say I'm impressed with the execution. Nothing is wrong, exactly, but the performances all seem a tad melodramatic or a tad uninspired. Camerawork is, again, purely functional. It's no masterpiece. But that second half worked for me. (And it's Ted Danson's first movie! He did great.)

Body Heat (rw) Let's say up front that this is a handsomely-made movie. Probably the best looking thing on the list since Night Moves. Nothing I've seen better captures the swelter of an East Coast heatwave, or the lusty feeling of being too hot to bang and going at it regardless. Kathleen Turner sells the hell out of a femme fatale. There are a lot of good lines and good performances (Ted Danson is back and having the time of his life). I want to get all that out of the way, because this is a movie heavily modeled after Double Indemnity, and I wanted to discuss its merits before I get into why inviting that comparison doesn't help the movie out. In a lot of ways, it's the same rules as the Robert Mitchum Marlowe movies - do Double Indemnity but amp up the sex and violence. And, to a degree it works. (At least, the sex does, dunno that Double Indemnity was crying out for explosions.) But the plot is amped as well, and gets downright silly. Yeah, Mrs. Dietrichson seduces Walter Neff so he'll off her husband, but Neff clocks that pretty early and goes along with it anyway. Everything beyond that is two people keeping too big a secret and slowly turning on each other. But here? For the twists to work Matty has to be, from frame one, playing four-dimensional chess on the order of Senator Palpatine, and its about as plausible. (Exactly how did she know, after she rebuffed Ned, he would figure out her local bar and go looking for her at the exact hour she was there?) It's already kind of weird to be using the spider woman trope in 1981, but to make her MORE sexually conniving and mercenary than she was in the 40's is... not great. As lurid trash, it's pretty fun for a while, but some noir stuff can't just be updated, it needs to be subverted or it doesn't justify its existence.

Blow Out Brian De Palma has two categories of movie: he's got his mainstream, director-for-hire fare, where his voice is either reigned in or indulged in isolated sequences that don't always jive with the rest fo the film, and then there's his Brian De Palma movies. My mistake, it seems, is having seen several for-hires from throughout his career - The Untouchables (fine enough), Carlito's Way (ditto, but less), Mission: Impossible (enh) - but had only seen De Palma-ass movies from his late period (Femme Fatale and The Black Dahlia, both of which I think are garbage). All this to say: Blow Out was my first classic-era De Palma, and holy fucking shit dudes. This was (with caveats) my absolute and entire jam. I said I could enjoy good sleaze, and this is good friggin' sleaze. (Though far short of De Palma at his sleaziest, mercifully.) The splitscreens, the diopter shots, the canted angles, how does he make so many shlocky things work?! John Travolta's sound tech goes out to get fresh wind fx for the movie he's working on, and we get this wonderful sequence of visuals following sounds as he turns his attention and his microphone to various noises - a couple on a walk, a frog, an owl, a buzzing street lamp. Later, as he listens back to the footage, the same sequence plays again, but this time from his POV; we're seeing his memory as guided by the same sequence of sounds, now recreated with different shots, as he moves his pencil in the air mimicking the microphone. When he mixes and edits sounds, we hear the literal soundtrack of the movie we are watching get mixed and edited by the person on screen. And as he tries to unravel a murder mystery, he uses what's at hand: magnetic tape, flatbed editors, an animation camera to turn still photos from the crime scene into a film and sync it with the audio he recorded; it's forensics using only the tools of the editing room. As someone who's spent some time in college editing rooms, this is a hoot and a half. Loses a bit of steam as it goes on and the film nerd stuff gives way to a more traditional thriller, but rallies for a sound-tech-centered final setpiece, which steadily builds to such madcap heights you can feel the air thinning, before oddly cutting its own tension and then trying to build it back up again. It doesn't work as well the second time. But then, that shot right after the climax? Damn. Conflicted on how the movie treats the female lead. I get why feminist film theorists are so divided on De Palma. His stuff is full of things feminists (rightly) criticize, full of women getting naked when they're not getting stabbed, but he also clearly finds women fascinating and has them do empowered and unexpected things, and there are many feminist reads of his movies. Call it a mixed bag. But even when he's doing tropey shit, he explores the tropes in unexpected ways. Definitely the best movie so far that I hadn't already seen.

Cutter's Way (rw) Alex Cutter is pitched to us as an obnoxious-but-sympathetic son of a bitch, and, you know, two out of three ain't bad. Watched this during my 2020 neo-noir kick and considered skipping it this time because I really didn't enjoy it. Found it a little more compelling this go around, while being reminded of why my feelings were room temp before. Thematically, I'm onboard: it's about a guy, Cutter, getting it in his head that he's found a murderer and needs to bring him to justice, and his friend, Bone, who intermittently helps him because he feels bad that Cutter lost his arm, leg, and eye in Nam and he also feels guilty for being in love with Cutter's wife. The question of whether the guy they're trying to bring down actually did it is intentionally undefined, and arguably unimportant; they've got personal reasons to see this through. Postmodern and noirish, fixated with the inability to ever fully know the truth of anything, but starring people so broken by society that they're desperate for certainty. (Pretty obvious parallels to Vietnam.) Cutter's a drunk and kind of an asshole, but understandably so. Bone's shiftlessness is the other response to a lack of meaning in the world, to the point where making a decision, any decision, feels like character growth, even if it's maybe killing a guy whose guilt is entirely theoretical. So, yeah, I'm down with all of this! A- in outline form. It's just that Cutter is so uninterestingly unpleasant and no one else on screen is compelling enough to make up for it. His drunken windups are tedious and his sanctimonious speeches about what the war was like are, well, true and accurate but also obviously manipulative. It's two hours with two miserable people, and I think Cutter's constant chatter is supposed to be the comic relief but it's a little too accurate to drunken rambling, which isn't funny if you're not also drunk. He's just tedious, irritating, and periodically racist. Pass.

Blood Simple (rw) I'm pretty cool on the Coens - there are things I've liked, even loved, in every Coen film I've seen, but I always come away dissatisfied. For a while, I kept going to their movies because I was sure eventually I'd love one without qualification. No Country for Old Men came close, the first two acts being master classes in sustained tension. But then the third act is all about denying closure: the protagonist is murdered offscreen, the villain's motives are never explained, and it ends with an existentialist speech about the unfathomable cruelty of the world. And it just doesn't land for me. The archness of the Coen's dialogue, the fussiness of their set design, the kinda-intimate, kinda-awkward, kinda-funny closeness of the camera's singles, it cannot sell me on a devastating meditation about meaninglessness. It's only ever sold me on the Coens' own cleverness. And that archness, that distancing, has typified every one of their movies I've come close to loving. Which is a long-ass preamble to saying, holy heck, I was not prepared for their very first movie to be the one I'd been looking for! I watched it last year and it remains true on rewatch: Blood Simple works like gangbusters. It's kind of Double Indemnity (again) but played as a comedy of errors, minus the comedy: two people romantically involved feeling their trust unravel after a murder. And I think the first thing that works for me is that utter lack of comedy. It's loaded with the Coens' trademark ironies - mostly dramatic in this case - but it's all played straight. Unlike the usual lead/femme fatale relationship, where distrust brews as the movie goes on, the audience knows the two main characters can trust each other. There are no secret duplicitous motives waiting to be revealed. The audience also know why they don't trust each other. (And it's all communicated wordlessly, btw: a character enters a scene and we know, based on the information that character has, how it looks to them and what suspicions it would arouse, even as we know the truth of it). The second thing that works is, weirdly, that the characters aren't very interesting?! Ray and Abby have almost no characterization. Outside of a general likability, they are blank slates. This is a weakness in most films, but, given the agonizingly long, wordless sequences where they dispose of bodies or hide from gunfire, you're left thinking not "what will Ray/Abby do in this scenario," because Ray and Abby are relatively elemental and undefined, but "what would I do in this scenario?" Which creates an exquisite tension but also, weirdly, creates more empathy than I feel for the Coens' usual cast of personalities. It's supposed to work the other way around! Truly enjoyable throughout but absolutely wonderful in the suspenseful-as-hell climax. Good shit right here.

Body Double The thing about erotic thrillers is everything that matters is in the name. Is it thrilling? Is it erotic? Good; all else is secondary. De Palma set out to make the most lurid, voyeuristic, horny, violent, shocking, steamy movie he could come up with, and its success was not strictly dependent on the lead's acting ability or the verisimilitude of the plot. But what are we, the modern audience, to make of it once 37 years have passed and, by today's standards, the eroticism is quite tame and the twists are no longer shocking? Then we're left with a nonsensical riff on Vertigo, a specularization of women that is very hard to justify, and lead actor made of pulped wood. De Palma's obsessions don't cohere into anything more this time; the bits stolen from Hitchcock aren't repurposed to new ends, it really is just Hitch with more tits and less brains. (I mean, I still haven't seen Vertigo, but I feel 100% confident in that statement.) The diopter shots and rear-projections this time look cheap (literally so, apparently; this had 1/3 the budget of Blow Out). There are some mildly interesting setpieces, but nothing compared to Travolta's auditory reconstructions or car chase where he tries to tail a subway train from street level even if it means driving through a frickin parade like an inverted French Connection, goddamn Blow Out was a good movie! Anyway. Melanie Griffith seems to be having fun, at least. I guess I had a little as well, but it was, at best, diverting, and a real letdown.

The Hit Surprised by how much I enjoyed this one. Terrance Stamp flips on the mob and spends ten years living a life of ease in Spain, waiting for the day they find and kill him. Movie kicks off when they do find him, and what follows is a ramshackle road movie as John Hurt and a young Tim Roth attempt to drive him to Paris so they can shoot him in front of his old boss. Stamp is magnetic. He's spent a decade reading philosophy and seems utterly prepared for death, so he spends the trip humming, philosophizing, and being friendly with his captors when he's not winding them up. It remains unclear to the end whether the discord he sews between Roth and Hurt is part of some larger plan of escape or just for shits and giggles. There's also a decent amount of plot for a movie that's not terribly plot-driven - just about every part of the kidnapping has tiny hitches the kidnappers aren't prepared for, and each has film-long repercussions, drawing the cops closer and somehow sticking Laura del Sol in their backseat. The ongoing questions are when Stamp will die, whether del Sol will die, and whether Roth will be able to pull the trigger. In the end, it's actually a meditation on ethics and mortality, but in a quiet and often funny way. It's not going to go down as one of my new favs, but it was a nice way to spend a couple hours.

Trouble in Mind (dnrw) I fucking hated this movie. It's been many months since I watched it, do I remember what I hated most? Was it the bit where a couple of country bumpkins who've come to the city walk into a diner and Mr. Bumpkin clocks that the one Black guy in the back as obviously a criminal despite never having seen him before? Was it the part where Kris Kristofferson won't stop hounding Mrs. Bumpkin no matter how many times she demands to be left alone, and it's played as romantic because obviously he knows what she needs better than she does? Or is it the part where Mr. Bumpkin reluctantly takes a job from the Obvious Criminal (who is, in fact, a criminal, and the only named Black character in the movie if I remember correctly, draw your own conclusions) and, within a week, has become a full-blown hood, which is exemplified by a lot, like, a lot of queer-coding? The answer to all three questions is yes. It's also fucking boring. Even out-of-drag Divine's performance as the villain can't save it.

Manhunter 'sfine? I've still never seen Silence of the Lambs, nor any of the Hopkins Lecter movies, nor, indeed, any full episode of the show. So the unheimlich others get seeing Brian Cox play Hannibal didn't come into play. Cox does a good job with him, but he's barely there. Shame, cuz he's the most interesting part of the movie. Honestly, there's a lot of interesting stuff that's barely there. Will Graham being a guy who gets into the heads of serial killers is explored well enough, and Mann knows how to direct a police procedural such that it's both contemplative and propulsive. But all the other themes it points at? Will's fear that he understands murderers a little too well? Hannibal trying to nudge him towards becoming one? Whatever dance Hannibal and Tooth Fairy are doing? What Tooth Fairy's deal is, anyway? (Why does he wear fake teeth and bite things? Why is he fixated on the red dragon? Does the bit where he says "Francis is gone forever" mean he has DID?) None of it goes anywhere or amounts to anything. I mean, it's certainly more interesting with this stuff than without, but it has that feel of a book that's been pared of its interesting bits to fit the runtime (or, alternately, pulp that's been sloppily elevated). I still haven't made my mind up on Mann's cold, precise camera work, but at least it gives me something to look at. It's fine! This is fine.

Mona Lisa (rw) Gave this one another shot. Bob Hoskins is wonderful as a hood out of his depth in classy places, quick to anger but just as quick to let anger go (the opening sequence where he's screaming on his ex-wife's doorstep, hurling trash cans at her house, and one minute later thrilled to see his old car, is pretty nice). And Cathy Tyson's working girl is a subtler kind of fascinating, exuding a mixture of coldness and kindness. It's just... this is ultimately a story about how heartbreaking it is when the girl you like is gay, right? It's Weezer's Pink Triangle: The Movie. It's not homophobic, exactly - Simone isn't demonized for being a lesbian - but it's still, like, "man, this straight white guy's pain is so much more interesting than the Black queer sex worker's." And when he's yelling "you woulda done it!" at the end, I can't tell if we're supposed to agree with him. Seems pretty clear that she wouldn'ta done it, at least not without there being some reveal about her character that doesn't happen, but I don't think the ending works if we don't agree with him, so... I'm like 70% sure the movie does Simone dirty there. For the first half, their growing relationship feels genuine and natural, and, honestly, the story being about a real bond that unfortunately means different things to each party could work if it didn't end with a gun and a sock in the jaw. Shape feels jagged as well; what feels like the end of the second act or so turns out to be the climax. And some of the symbolism is... well, ok, Simone gives George money to buy more appropriate clothes for hanging out in high end hotels, and he gets a tan leather jacket and a Hawaiian shirt, and their first proper bonding moment is when she takes him out for actual clothes. For the rest of the movie he is rocking double-breasted suits (not sure I agree with the striped tie, but it was the eighties, whaddya gonna do?). Then, in the second half, she sends him off looking for her old streetwalker friend, and now he looks completely out of place in the strip clubs and bordellos. So far so good. But then they have this run-in where her old pimp pulls a knife and cuts George's arm, so, with his nice shirt torn and it not safe going home (I guess?) he starts wearing the Hawaiian shirt again. So around the time he's starting to realize he doesn't really belong in Simone's world or the lowlife world he came from anymore, he's running around with the classy double-breasted suit jacket over the garish Hawaiian shirt, and, yeah, bit on the nose guys. Anyway, it has good bits, I just feel like a movie that asks me to feel for the guy punching a gay, Black woman in the face needs to work harder to earn it. Bit of wasted talent.

The Bedroom Window Starts well. Man starts an affair with his boss' wife, their first night together she witnesses an attempted murder from his window, she worries going to the police will reveal the affair to her husband, so the man reports her testimony to the cops claiming he's the one who saw it. Young Isabelle Huppert is the perfect woman for a guy to risk his career on a crush over, and Young Steve Guttenberg is the perfect balance of affability and amorality. And it flows great - picks just the right media to res. So then he's talking to the cops, telling them what she told him, and they ask questions he forgot to ask her - was the perp's jacket a blazer or a windbreaker? - and he has to guess. Then he gets called into the police lineup, and one guy matches her description really well, but is it just because he's wearing his red hair the way she described it? He can't be sure, doesn't finger any of them. He finds out the cops were pretty certain about one of the guys, so he follows the one he thinks it was around, looking for more evidence, and another girl is attacked right outside a bar he knows the redhead was at. Now he's certain! But he shows the boss' wife the guy and she's not certain, and she reminds him they don't even know if the guy he followed is the same guy the police suspected! And as he feeds more evidence to the cops, he has to lie more, because he can't exactly say he was tailing the guy around the city. So, I'm all in now. Maybe it's because I'd so recently rewatched Night Moves and Cutter's Way, but this seems like another story about uncertainty. He's really certain about the guy because it fits narratively, and we, the audience, feel the same. But he's not actually a witness, he doesn't have actual evidence, he's fitting bits and pieces together like a conspiracy theorist. He's fixating on what he wants to be true. Sign me up! But then it turns out he's 100% correct about who the killer is but his lies are found out and now the cops think he's the killer and I realize, oh, no, this movie isn't nearly as smart as I thought it was. Egg on my face! What transpires for the remaining half of the runtime is goofy as hell, and someone with shlockier sensibilities could have made a meal of it, but Hanson, despite being a Corman protege, takes this silliness seriously in the all wrong ways. Next!

Homicide (rw? I think I saw most of this on TV one time) Homicide centers around the conflicted loyalties of a Jewish cop. It opens with the Jewish cop and his white gentile partner taking over a case with a Black perp from some Black FBI agents. The media is making a big thing about the racial implications of the mostly white cops chasing down a Black man in a Black neighborhood. And inside of 15 minutes the FBI agent is calling the lead a k*ke and the gentile cop is calling the FBI agent a f****t and there's all kinds of invective for Black people. The film is announcing its intentions out the gate: this movie is about race. But the issue here is David Mamet doesn't care about race as anything other than a dramatic device. He's the Ubisoft of filmmakers, having no coherent perspective on social issues but expecting accolades for even bringing them up. Mamet is Jewish (though lead actor Joe Mantegna definitely is not) but what is his position on the Jewish diaspora? The whole deal is Mantegna gets stuck with a petty homicide case instead of the big one they just pinched from the Feds, where a Jewish candy shop owner gets shot in what looks like a stickup. Her family tries to appeal to his Jewishness to get him to take the case seriously, and, after giving them the brush-off for a long time, finally starts following through out of guilt, finding bits and pieces of what may or may not be a conspiracy, with Zionist gun runners and underground neo-Nazis. But, again: all of these are just dramatic devices. Mantegna's Jewishness (those words will never not sound ridiculous together) has always been a liability for him as a cop (we are told, not shown), and taking the case seriously is a reclamation of identity. The Jews he finds community with sold tommyguns to revolutionaries during the founding of Israel. These Jews end up blackmailing him to get a document from the evidence room. So: what is the film's position on placing stock in one's Jewish identity? What is its position on Israel? What is its opinion on Palestine? Because all three come up! And the answer is: Mamet doesn't care. You can read it a lot of different ways. Someone with more context and more patience than me could probably deduce what the de facto message is, the way Chris Franklin deduced the de facto message of Far Cry V despite the game's efforts not to have one, but I'm not going to. Mantegna's attempt to reconnect with his Jewishness gets his partner killed, gets the guy he was supposed to bring in alive shot dead, gets him possibly permanent injuries, gets him on camera blowing up a store that's a front for white nationalists, and all for nothing because the "clues" he found (pretty much exclusively by coincidence) were unconnected nothings. The problem is either his Jewishness, or his lifelong failure to connect with his Jewishness until late in life. Mamet doesn't give a shit. (Like, Mamet canonically doesn't give a shit: he is on record saying social context is meaningless, characters only exist to serve the plot, and there are no deeper meanings in fiction.) Mamet's ping-pong dialogue is fun, as always, and there are some neat ideas and characters, but it's all in service of a big nothing that needed to be a something to work.

Swoon So much I could talk about, let's keep it to the most interesting bits. Hommes Fatales: a thing about classic noir that it was fascinated by the marginal but had to keep it in the margins. Liberated women, queer-coded killers, Black jazz players, broke thieves; they were the main event, they were what audiences wanted to see, they were what made the movies fun. But the ending always had to reassert straightlaced straight, white, middle-class male society as unshakeable. White supremacist capitalist patriarchy demanded, both ideologically and via the Hays Code, that anyone outside these norms be punished, reformed, or dead by the movie's end. The only way to make them the heroes was to play their deaths for tragedy. It is unsurprising that neo-noir would take the queer-coded villains and make them the protagonists. Implicature: This is the story of Leopold and Loeb, murderers famous for being queer, and what's interesting is how the queerness in the first half exists entirely outside of language. Like, it's kind of amazing for a movie from 1992 to be this gay - we watch Nathan and Dickie kiss, undress, masturbate, fuck; hell, they wear wedding rings when they're alone together. But it's never verbalized. Sex is referred to as "your reward" or "what you wanted" or "best time." Dickie says he's going to have "the girls over," and it turns out "the girls" are a bunch of drag queens, but this is never acknowledged. Nathan at one point lists off a bunch of famous men - Oscar Wild, E.M. Forster, Frederick the Great - but, though the commonality between them is obvious (they were all gay), it's left the the audience to recognize it. When their queerness is finally verbalized in the second half, it's first in the language of pathology - a psychiatrist describing their "perversions" and "misuse" of their "organs" before the court, which has to be cleared of women because it's so inappropriate - and then with slurs from the man who murders Dickie in jail (a murder which is written off with no investigation because the victim is a gay prisoner instead of a L&L's victim, a child of a wealthy family). I don't know if I'd have noticed this if I hadn't read Chip Delany describing his experience as a gay man in the 50's existing almost entirely outside of language, the only language at the time being that of heteronormativity. Murder as Love Story: L&L exchange sex as payment for the other commiting crimes; it's foreplay. Their statements to the police where they disagree over who's to blame is a lover's quarrel. Their sentencing is a marriage. Nathan performs his own funeral rites over Dickie's body after he dies on the operating table. They are, in their way, together til death did they part. This is the relationship they can have. That it does all this without romanticizing the murder itself or valorizing L&L as humans is frankly incredible.

Suture (rw) The pitch: at the funeral for his father, wealthy Vincent Towers meets his long lost half brother Clay Arlington. It is implied Clay is a child from out of wedlock, possibly an affair; no one knows Vincent has a half-brother but him and Clay. Vincent invites Clay out to his fancy-ass home in Arizona. Thing is, Vincent is suspected (correctly) by the police of having murdered his father, and, due to a striking family resemblence, he's brought Clay to his home to fake his own death. He finagles Clay into wearing his clothes and driving his car, and then blows the car up and flees the state, leaving the cops to think him dead. Thing is, Clay survives, but with amnesia. The doctors tell him he's Vincent, and he has no reason to disagree. Any discrepancy in the way he looks is dismissed as the result of reconstructive surgery after the explosion. So Clay Arlington resumes Vincent Towers' life, without knowing Clay Arlington even exists. The twist: Clay and Vincent are both white, but Vincent is played by Michael Harris, a white actor, and Clay is played by Dennis Haysbert, a Black actor. "Ian, if there's just the two of them, how do you know it's not Harris playing a Black character?" Glad you asked! It is most explicitly obvious during a scene where Vincent/Clay's surgeon-cum-girlfriend essentially bringing up phrenology to explain how Vincent/Clay couldn't possibly have murdered his father, describing straight hair, thin lips, and a Greco-Roman nose Haysbert very clearly doesn't have. But, let's be honest: we knew well beforehand that the rich-as-fuck asshole living in a huge, modern house and living it up in Arizona high society was white. Though Clay is, canonically, white, he lives an poor and underprivileged life common to Black men in America. Though the film's title officially refers to the many stitches holding Vincent/Clay's face together after the accident, "suture" is a film theory term, referring to the way a film audience gets wrapped up - sutured - in the world of the movie, choosing to forget the outside world and pretend the story is real. The usage is ironic, because the audience cannot be sutured in; we cannot, and are not expected to, suspend our disbelief that Clay is white. We are deliberately distanced. Consequently this is a movie to be thought about, not to to be felt. It has the shape of a Hitchcockian thriller but it can't evoke the emotions of one. You can see the scaffolding - "ah, yes, this is the part of a thriller where one man hides while another stalks him with a gun, clever." I feel ill-suited to comment on what the filmmakers are saying about race. I could venture a guess about the ending, where the psychiatrist, the only one who knows the truth about Clay, says he can never truly be happy living the lie of being Vincent Towers, while we see photographs of Clay/Vincent seemingly living an extremely happy life: society says white men simply belong at the top more than Black men do, but, if the roles could be reversed, the latter would slot in seamlessly. Maybe??? Of all the movies in this collection, this is the one I'd most want to read an essay on (followed by Swoon).

The Last Seduction (dnrw) No, no, no, I am not rewataching this piece of shit movie.

Brick (rw) Here's my weird contention: Brick is in color and in widescreen, but, besides that? There's nothing neo- about this noir. There's no swearing except "hell." (I always thought Tug said "goddamn" at one point but, no, he's calling The Pin "gothed-up.") There's a lot of discussion of sex, but always through implication, and the only deleted scene is the one that removed ambiguity about what Brendan and Laura get up to after kissing. There's nothing postmodern or subversive - yes, the hook is it's set in high school, but the big twist is that it takes this very seriously. It mines it for jokes, yes, but the drama is authentic. In fact, making the gumshoe a high school student, his jadedness an obvious front, still too young to be as hard as he tries to be, just makes the drama hit harder. Sam Spade if Sam Spade were allowed to cry. I've always found it an interesting counterpoint to The Good German, a movie that fastidiously mimics the aesthetics of classic noir - down to even using period-appropriate sound recording - but is wholly neo- in construction. Brick could get approved by the Hays Code. Its vibe, its plot about a detective playing a bunch of criminals against each other, even its slang ("bulls," "yegg," "flopped") are all taken directly from Hammett. It's not even stealing from noir, it's stealing from what noir stole from! It's a perfect curtain call for the collection: the final film is both the most contemporary and the most classic. It's also - but for the strong case you could make for Night Moves - the best movie on the list. It's even more appropriate for me, personally: this was where it all started for me and noir. I saw this in theaters when it came out and loved it. It was probably my favorite movie for some time. It gave me a taste for pulpy crime movies which I only, years later, realized were neo-noir. This is why I looked into Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang and In Bruges. I've seen it more times than any film on this list, by a factor of at least 3. It's why I will always adore Rian Johnson and Joseph Gordon-Levitt. It's the best-looking half-million-dollar movie I've ever seen. (Indie filmmakers, take fucking notes.) I even did a script analysis of this, and, yes, it follows the formula, but so tightly and with so much style. Did you notice that he says several of the sequence tensions out loud? ("I just want to find her." "Show of hands.") I notice new things each time I see it - this time it was how "brushing Brendan's hair out of his face" is Em's move, making him look more like he does in the flashback, and how Laura does the same to him as she's seducing him, in the moment when he misses Em the hardest. It isn't perfect. It's recreated noir so faithfully that the Innocent Girl dies, the Femme Fatale uses intimacy as a weapon, and none of the women ever appear in a scene together. 1940's gender politics maybe don't need to be revisited. They say be critical of the media you love, and it applies here most of all: it is a real criticism of something I love immensely.

[softkuea]

You're My Sky Episode 8: I'm out of words, I already watched the episode and i have tears in my eyes still. This is gonna be long, but I need to point everything because If I don't, I feel like I'm not doing justice to the show.

First, let's appreciate the change of the aspect ratio:

The aspect ratio it's only for Thorn and Fah's story, it starts with the match and it ends with the match. Now, I don't who had this idea, but let me tell you: I LIVE FOR THIS SH*T. The director/producers are fucking brilliant, this gives the show a cinematic look, fits perfectly with the raising tension and intensivity of what is going on. I don't see a lot of shows using aspect ratio to convey specific feelings, so once again, You're My Sky is going the extra mile.

Second, THIS WHOLE SCENE???????

The chills that I got all over my body. Not only is so well done but it's the parallels for me. Then Fah's face once he remembers this...

It's the way I can see the anguish, the pain, the hesitation... every little emotion is just one image. When i said the actors are so good in this series, I'm not joking, plus the cinematography... it becomes a masterpiece in my eyes.

Then we see more flashbacks.... I can't put every frame, but if you saw it, I'm pretty sure you notice the parallels and how well crafted it was. "I'll follow anyway" / "I'll follow to the National Team" "Practice, be better at basketball, and then, follow me. Okay my duo?" / "It'll be okay since we're both here, we are the basketball duo"

Fah finally realizes what he really wants, what is more important to him. It's being by Thorn's side and playing as a team, getting that gold medal TOGETHER: that's his path, his final decision, what makes him happy. I really love how teamwork won agaisn't extreme individualism, basketball is a sport after all, you need people. "I'm not elite as you saw me, I'm not the same type as you. And you've asked me if I'm strong enough to fight my battle alone. I can tell you... I'm not, I'm too weak to fight alone, I'm better thanks to the others"

Just this alone, it's so beautiful written and a lovely message: it's okay to be "weak", it's okay to ask for help, it's okay to need people and there's nothing wrong with that because everyone is different. Coach Tuan has a very narrow way of thinking, that will be his downfall at the end.

Now, the third thing, the rebound:

Once again, we are having more parallels, but I think what got me in this part is how euphoric this moment is. At the end, what makes them win is the same thing that made them lost with Coach Tuan, the same thing he didn't thought was "smart move": it's helping each other. "When I miss a shot, you'll go get the ball" And that was so satisfying to see: what a good ending to this arc. I been talking a lot about Thorn and Fah, now my two cents about the other couples. Aii and Saen: Breaking up is part of life, if you been in a relationship, you know the fear of "what if". Aii is overthinking, but is normal, he is not used to dating and a distance relationship it's a huge commitment. However, I'm happy that they he is giving it a chance, after all, if you don't take the risk, you never know what can come out of it. Yes, they are still pretty young, stuff will get messy, problems will happen... but that's life, I think they need to appreciate their time together now. I believe in their love, and with Saen by his side, i think he will be okay. They are such a cute couple and i just hope they communicate a little bit better with time, that's all.

Vee and Dome: Yikes, where do I start? Vee had a freaking panic attack and Dome still doesn't realize is his fault? (btw, that scene is extremely accurate, panic attacks are that heavy and i felt for him). Do we really want them together? I think we all know the answer, this isn't gonna work. You're My Sky has potrayed this situation is such realistic lenses... I don't know how they will end it, but i trust them. VEE DESERVES BETTER, PERIOD.

[alecxaheart]

Sunshower | Lee Felix Oneshot

✎ Genre : Friends to Lovers AU, Idol AU, Fluff, Angst

✎ Pairings : Lee Felix X Reader

✎ Word Count : 2.5k words

✎ Synopsis : We all know that sunshines together with the rainfall makes a rainbow. And that is exactly like how you fell for the freckled sunshine.

✎ Warnings : Explicit Language

✎. . . Sudden change of plans for the title. :P Enjoy!

In an early afternoon, Felix had to stop by for lunch at this wonderful bakery near the Hangang Park. Where they serve many delicacies such as bars, breads, desserts, cookies, muffins, and more. His personal favorite was their fudgy brownie bites, so favored that he's inspired to make one of his own.

As soon as he opened the door to the bakery, he felt the stress he had from practice a while ago were completely relieved. The bakery gave off a warm welcome when he stepped in. Contrasting to the cold breeze of autumn outside. The aroma of newly baked goods lingered around the room that it felt like Felix's being lured immediately to the cashier. It almost smelled like heaven, thought of Felix.

The moment that he got his desired lunch in his hands, he took a seat near the window. He savored each bite of the pastry, eyes rolling to the back of his head at it's deliciousness. Although a ring from his phone interrupted him from his feast.

" Oi Felix, " Chan greeted as soon as he answered his call. Felix first dabbed his mouth with the provided tissue before replying to Chan, " What's up? ".

While he's into the conversation with his friend, something – or rather someone on the streets captured his eyes. You were aimlessly running after a piece of paper caught in the wind. The breeze carrying locks of your silk hair. Your eyes reflecting the sun and eyebrows knitted as you continue to struggle. When the time that you've had it in your hold came, you accidentally slipped on the autumn leaves. Causing you to painfully land on your butt. A groan fell out of your lips as you rubbed your butt to ease the pain. All of the commotion that Felix saw from you made him break out a giggle, which left his friend confused on the other line.

" Ah yeah, yeah. Let's defo have a barbie this arvo. "

Felix thought that you were adorable.

" (Y/N)? " Called out by the person on the other line as soon as you picked up the call. Your phone was pressed against your right ear while you continued searching for the remote underneath the pillows. It surely has been a while since the last time you interacted with your boyfriend, Park Jongsuk, and God knows how much you missed him. Just hearing his soothing voice at this moment sent butterflies into your stomach. His voice is enough for you to make your day better. " Yes, love? " You asked, smiling to yourself. Also noticing how his tone sounded more requesting. As much as you wanted to beam at him a ' good afternoon ' and ask how is he, you decided not to.

Once you've found the remote to your television, you turned the volume down so that your conversation with him wouldn't be interrupted. You've been just passing some time by watching Netflix for about a week now. Actually, not only for passing time but it is even for avoiding yourself to overthink your current situation - especially about your relationship status with Jongsuk.

" Could we.. " He first trailed off for a moment, contemplating if he should persist with the plan. " Could we meet up later? " That question alone made you joyful and excited, smiling from ear to ear. You give him your enthusiastic approval before ending your call by telling one another that you're both anticipating for your meet up. Turning off the television, you were off to your room to fix yourself. Afterall, this is your first meet up with him ever since the day you were parted by long distance — that's been like roughly 8 months. Him achieving his dreams as a model and actor, away from your home country, Australia. He did brought you with him though. The first months you shared the same apartment, every moment filled with happiness and love.

That is until everything drifted apart. It began with him moving to a dorm nearby and supported by his Entertainment. His weekend visits turned to none at all. Everything that became a habit with him vanished one by one. Leaving you only with memories. But it seems like today's the day you'll start to get everything back.

Oh how you are so oblivious to your bittersweet fate.

Arriving to the said location, Hangang Park. It runs through thousands of miles and has many parks along the way. An environment friendly place for people to enjoy nature, sports, foods, entertainments, fountains, and more. You personally just adore how comforting it is to be there and to have a breath-taking sight of Han River, especially at night. Every locals and tourists savor their time to be here the same as you do. Although as of today, you couldn't help but notice that the park isn't as packed as it usually is.

You sat down on a nearby bench, waiting for Jongsuk to make an appearance. He did told you to come in the late afternoon and you did get there in time. Leaning onto the bench, you let out a sigh. Eyes finding itself staring at the sky covered with gray clouds. The cold wind crashing into your figure, making you shiver. You were sure that you checked today's weather forecast before leaving your household, told you that it'll just be a cloudy day.

Children's hearty laughs soon began turning to murmurs and whispers. The sound of silverware and plates clinking rang through your ears. It sounded like the family's starting to pack up and clean up their picnic space. " Come on, let's go! " Called out by a woman in her late 20's, assumming that she's the mother. You grew anxious when you noticed how everyone seemed to abandon you alone. Why is everybody departing out of the blue? You've just arrived.

" (Y/N), " You heard your own name being mentioned and it came from  behind you. Recognizing the owner of the cordial tone of his voice, you turned around to meet a pair of eyes wearing misty gray contact lenses. Seeing him washed away all of your worries. Your heart's about to instantly jump out of your chest due to the fact that it's filled with pure happiness. Unconsciously smiling brightly at him.

" Love! " Running towards him, you hugged his tall form securely. Mumbling the words, " I missed you. "

However, to your surprise, he never returned the hug. In fact, Jongsuk gently removed your arms around his waist. " (Y/N), I missed you too, " He started, crouching a little bit to face you better. " Although I have something to tell you. Something important, that's why I came. " Something's starting to creep into your guts. As if it's warning you that there's something off about today. He stated that but he never smiled back at you ever since he made an appearance. Plus, he always addresses you by your real name. Not your shared endearment which is strange.

You hummed in response, your smile slowly fading from your lips. " What is it? " Jongsuk saw how your eyes sparkled with hope. He knows that you're yearning for him to tell you that your gut feeling is wrong. Which made him more guilty for what he's about to do.

" (Y/N), let's.. " He hesitated, hating the fact that he has to see you in this state. However, he does know better for what's best for the both of you. " Let's end this here. " To be better off with someone else. Those words were enough to shatter your heart into million of pieces. Your face fully turning into a gloomy countenance with a hint of confusion. Your lips starting to quiver. For a second, you were frozen into place. You dislike how you couldn't control yourself right now.

" I'm sorry, we just didn't work out anymore. " He continued. Thoughts were flooded with denial, that this is happening at this very moment or you must've misheard everything. But no, Jongsuk's facial expression says it all.

" I understand, " Your voice sounded brittle, holding back the tears. Pity is one of the things that's written on his face. That's the least thing you wanted from anyone, to pity you. As if it's telling that you're incapable of overcoming the worst situations in life, that you're fragile and being belittled. And you clearly despise it. " I'll take my leave now. "

With that, you walked away from him. Your arms found itself wrapping around your own figure, trying your best to calm down. Your mixed emotions of fury and agony almost getting the best of you. Although each second that's passing is killing you. Heart aching, lips quivering, you were just in the worst state ever. And once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Resulting you to run away aimlessly. To wherever your feet may take you.

One drop, two drops fell from the skies that made you slow down until you come to a total halt. You looked up to the sky, seeing it covered with dark clouds. A droplet landed on your cheek, a simple gesture from the heavens of wiping off your tears and you'd like to think of it that way. It wasn't long after the drizzle transitioned to a downpour. As if the heavens are crying and mourning with one of its beloved (you) at what tragedy it witnessed. Unfortunately, you haven't brought your umbrella with you due to the fact that you believed at the false weather forecast. So, you let yourself get drenched in the rain. Not giving any piece of shit about the aftermath. You're currently already exhausted and under the weather.

You closed your eyes, body shivering to the cold air being left out from under the showering water. For a few minutes, you stayed there. Not even minding any comments from the people passing by. That is until you didn't feel the rain landing on your body out of the blue. Strange that you could feel a warm presence to your right. However, you could still hear water coming in contact with the pavement.

When you've parted your eyelids, you were greeted by a black fabric instead of gray clouds. " G'day mate, " A familiar deep voice laced with Australian accent greeted. Glancing to your left, he beamed a sweet smile at you. It was as warm, bright and blinding as the sunshine that it could possibly change the whole weather. To be honest, he's the least man you expected to see today since you thought he's as busy as your ex-boyfriend was.

Lee Felix.

" You know you'll get ill with what you're doing and that's least thing I wanna know from my mate. So, that's defo a no no from me, " He pointed out, handing you his umbrella. You timidly accepted it anyway, hand brushing pass his warm ones. Eyes instantly staring at the wet pavement as soon as it's in your grasp. Sighing, Felix took his jacket off and placed it on top of your shoulders. He also handed you a handkerchief after that, receiving a small thank you from you. Then took the umbrella handle back into his grip.

" You know, your ex-boyfriend's a dick, " That being stated by Felix, you let out a belly laugh while drying your face. Seeing your face lit up also made him laugh with you. Ever since the beginning, you both just clicked when Jongsuk first introduced him to you. The time one of you spoke the first " Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! " call, you felt the connection between the two of you while harmonizing at " Oi, Oi, Oi! ". And honestly, he's better at handling long distance friendships than your ex-boyfriend was. He made sure that he gives time for your friendship despite of his busy schedule from being an Idol. Which is impressive because that's just friendship, what more if he's in a relationship?

" I'm sorry, it's just – That came out from you very unexpectedly. I never saw that coming but I like the change. " You chuckled, now walking down the streets with Felix.

" Well, it's still true though, " Felix began, taking out his favorite fudgy brownies he bought from Sunny's. " How could he be so impatient and ghosted you for straight 8 months? And love is known to be patient. He let himself get defeated just by distance. " He took a bite at the brownie, chewing it thoroughly before continuing. " I even heard rumors of him and this make-up artist from his drama recently. "

" What the fuck, " You cursed under your breath, the last part surprising you. Avoiding the chances of you overthinking, you shook your head then changed the topic. " So you're admitting that you've been spying on me, huh? "

" Hey, it's not my fault that I was at Sunny's because my stomach's craving again for those pastries when I witnessed it, " Felix defended, earning a hum as a response from you.

" Though, it felt like I was watching a K-drama, " He jokingly added which ended with you smacking him upside the head playfully.

Reaching back home, you invited Felix for dinner and he gladly accepted the offer. As long as you agreed to his terms of conditions. Let him play League Of Legends on your PC and buffalo wings for dinner.

Coming out of the bathroom fully dressed and hair slightly damped, you saw Felix already busy playing on your PC. The headphones plugged into his ears. You're probably gonna kill him if you found out that he gave you a losing streak. Leaving the room, you went down to the kitchen. Preparing his desired meal. As you were doing so, you occasionally heard faint screams from upstairs which made you chuckle. It was quite odd how well Felix knows to immediately make your day better. Like as if nothing, no tragedy, ever happened earlier.

By the time you called Felix for dinner, he dashed down the flight of stairs and towards the dining area. His eyes sparkled and mouth almost drooling at the delicious sight plus taste of the meal. He didn't hesitate to dig in, taking one into his lips and you followed. While eating, Felix's eyes landed on a picture frame unintentionally, making him glare at it. " You should find someone better, " He suggested, his chocolate orbs meeting your own.

When you're always this close to him, you could see his charming points well. From his distinctive features to his gorgeous freckles. You still continued to believe that it was a constellation map drawn by the Gods so that people could never forget what the heavens looked like especially on cloudy days like today. It must've took a lot of patience, dedication and love to sculpt him. How blessed he is to be one of God's greatest masterpiece. Maybe, the heavens loves you so much that they sent him for you. Afterall, the heavens did show affection to you in a form of rainfall.

" Yeah, as if there's someone as better as you. " You murmured while continuing to feast onto the meal. However, Felix heard it clearly.

" Hmm.. " Felix pondered for a moment, chin resting on top of his hands. " Too bad there's only one of me. "

" Although this one does like you. "

End.

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

Too Daze Gone (Joe x Reader)

(Happy birthday to me! You’re all going to suffer. This is a little something that I wrote over 2 1/2 years ago based on a concept that I thought of three years ago; one of the first ideas I ever had for a Def Leppard fanfic. I made some very minor edits to it ((since I’m not 17 anymore)), and honestly, this is still one of my favorite things that I’ve ever written. But I know you guys are gonna have my head for it later...)

Prompt: It’s December of 1989. You and Joe are recently married, the world has now officially entered the post-Hysteria era, and- well...

-----

December 1989

The soft morning sunlight was seeping through the plane’s window right next to you. Joe’s head was resting on your arm, and you used your opposite hand to stroke his hair soothingly. He had one hand on his stomach, along with his green eyes closed and shut away from the world. The plane was flying steadily now, but your minds were anything but steady at the moment. There was so much to say, but no place or time to say it. It was almost as if you two were having a telepathic conversation; there was so much thinking between you both, yet nothing was being said.

“You alright, Joe?” the voice of a London guitarist broke your attention from the window. He’d strolled over to the seats where you and the man in question were sitting, and let his concern get the better of him.

There was far too much concern going around today, so Phil's question was rather unnecessary.

“Oh, he’s fine,” you answered sweetly, knowing that Joe didn’t want to answer, and also not wanting to give Phil any hint to your invisible nerves, “He’s just feeling rather sick is all.”

Phil sighed, “Ah, yeah, the turbulence wasn't the greatest.”

You decided to go along with Phil’s theory of why Joe wasn’t feeling well. After all, it was believable.

“Yeah, we haven’t been awake that long, either. You know how he can be in the morning. He’s just sick of the day, really,” you lightly joked. Today was not necessarily a good day for jokes. There was a deep, underlying sadness beneath the surface of everybody's tone no matter how much they joked around.

“Oh, so he’s got morning sickness, I see?” Phil joked along, trying to lighten the universally tense mood, “Well, congratulations on the pregnancy, Joe.”

Your heart jumped and you forced a chuckle at the statement. You felt Joe’s heart jump, too.

“Thanks, Phil,” Joe cracked a gentle smile for him as he walked away. You could feel how forced the smile was as Joe slowly reached out and squeezed your hand. He was definitely more worried than you.

“Shh, I know. I’m worried, too,” you whispered to him so quietly that you could barely hear yourself, “But we’ll deal with this later.”

~18 hours earlier~

You weaved your hands together with the utmost anxiety as you waited for Joe to get back from a small trip to the supermarket. As you waited, there was no stopping the racing thoughts in your mind. Once one thought appeared and rooted itself within you, it was impossible to keep it from rolling into a snowball of others. It was driving you absolutely mad on the inside. Keeping calm on the outside, however, came rather easily. It almost felt like second nature at the moment. Of course, you knew that was all going to change the second Joe got back.

Everything was going to change the second Joe got back.

When he did come back, you immediately stood up and went over to him, trying to be casual and lighthearted.

"Hey! How was the store?" came the greeting from you. Your voice was nearly on the verge of breaking from the tension of the whole situation.

"A fucking treat," he grumbled sarcastically, putting four bags down on the table, "The whole bloody place was packed, the service was piss poor, traffic on the way back, you name it."

You kissed him on the cheek for a few seconds in consolation, quickly making his small dimple appear as a result. Normally, it melted your heart to see him smile, but this time, it made it almost vibrate with worry. It hurt to see him happy now, since you knew it wouldn't last long.

He turned and put his hands on your waist, "I suppose it was worth it to get back to you, though."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, quickly pecked him on the lips, telling him, "You're too kind. Now let's see what you've looted up on-"

Desperate to distract both of you from each other, you turned to the grocery bags and started to pull the items out. You did it in a sped-up manner to keep your hands from shaking too visibly. You had no idea when to mention what had to be mentioned.

"I'll tell you what," Joe spoke up, his annoyance still audible in his voice, "The service down there was so fucking slow. Took me a half hour to get four bloody bags worth."

"I'll say you took a while," you impulsively decided to create a segue- any segue- that may get you closer to your fated subject. You blurted out "You’re late."

As he continued pulling out the groceries, he cocked an eyebrow, and asked without looking at you, "What do you mean I’m late?"

"Just, you're late, that's all," you shrugged, the anxiety overwhelming you more. It was getting close to the subject now.

"I'm not late," he chuckled, still not looking up or fully understanding you. You both often liked to joke and tease each other, so this wasn’t anything strange to him.

"No," you stated calmly, going completely motionless with fear, “But I am."

He didn't completely comprehend what you had said. He began to put away the groceries and asked you obliviously, "What do you mean you're late?" Late for what?"

You pressed on, remaining rooted to a motionless state and staring at him, "No, Joe... I’m late."

"You mean that this month you didn't get your-" he started off normally, but then paused as the penny dropped. He froze, and dropped the can he was holding. Your heart sank in your chest at his reaction. Now was the time to talk about it, and you could sense it wasn't going to be pleasant. Part of you began to think that this is how it might end for you two.

He turned around, looking almost mortified and whispered, "Oh my god... are you...?"

"I don't know..." you were shaking now, "I'm just assuming."

For a moment you both stood there, staring at each other, lost for words.

Another impulse suddenly arose within you, and you blurted out again with a wavering and worried voice, "I-I hope I'm not, Joe, and I know you don't want me to be, either, because now is not a good time for this to be happening! You’re at the peak of your career, and we’ve got the new album on the way, then you'll be on tour again- and-"

"Hey, hey, shh," Joe moved forward and put his hands on your arms, "Calm down... it's okay, it's okay. First of all, who ever said I didn't want this? You can't just assume that I wouldn't be okay with it... and I'm not mad- really, I swear! Second of all, this isn't set in stone yet. We'll have to find out if you are first, and if you are, we'll... then we'll make it work out somehow. Don’t think too much just yet; try to relax.”

You blew out a shaky exhale and muttered, “Yeah, okay...”

“Have you been sick?"

"No, but something just feels... off."

"How late are you?"

"About a week..."

"Have you been this late in the past, but gotten your period anyway?"

"Yes..."

"Then we don't know for sure," he kissed the top of your head, embracing you and reassuring, “So what if you're late? That doesn't have to mean anything! I'm worried, too, but we can't just jump to conclusions like this. I wouldn't even put the stakes at 50-50 right now. All this worrying is probably over nothing. You could just be overthinking."

You turned your head and attempted to look up at him to say, "But this is a child, Joe... if there's even a small possibility that this child exists, we've got to assume that it does... we can't just ignore it for too long."

"You've got a point, you've got a point, but just for a second, genuinely consider the possibility that you're not-" he didn't dare say the “p” word, "-you know..."

You sighed into his shoulder, fighting back against tears that wanted to fall, "Okay, okay, you could be right, but there's so much that might have to be done- we can't just put this off..."

"We can until we know for sure," he suggested, "If it's worrying you so much right now, then I'll run out to the corner store and pick up a test. We can sort this out once and for all. How long did you wanna wait before taking a test?"

"I don't know, I don't know," came the drawn out reply as a few tears spilled from you, "Maybe a day or two or three, but I'm just getting so worried that it might be true, I can't wait anymore."

"Okay, then you won't have to wait anymore," he tilted your chin up to give you a quick and thoughtful kiss, then wiped away your tears, "I'll run to the store quick and buy us a test. Is that okay?"

"Yes, please just do it. I'm sorry- you just got back from the store and-"

He laughed and squeezed you tighter, swaying with you in his arms, "Ah, don't worry about it; it's a necessary trip now."

"You're taking this a lot better than I thought you would."

"What'd you think I was gonna do? Leave you?" he chuckled lightheartedly, though he guessed exactly what you were thinking.

You faked a chuckle in reply, "Yeah, kinda... I had a lot of time to overthink everything."

"Well, would you leave me? Especially if I were in your shoes?"

It was your turn to squeeze him tighter (and laugh into his chest), "Joe, if you were in my shoes, I think we'd have a real problem."

"Oh, I know, I know- but apart from that- would you leave me?"

"Of course not..."

"Exactly. You wouldn't leave me, so I definitely won't leave you. You know we've always looked after each other, and I still plan on holding up my end of the bargain."

He kissed you again, longer this time, before softly assuring you, “I love you. Don't ever think that I’d abandon you to raise a child on your own, cos' it'll never ever be a possibility. I'll be here no matter what. Positive or negative."

***

Positive or negative, indeed, you told yourself as you wearily gazed out of the plane's window. You still weren't completely sure how to feel about the outcome of the previous day, but- as you told Joe before- you had to deal with it later. There were more pressing matters currently at hand. Your previous issue could wait for an extra day or two. The more serious problem that you all were on your way to currently needed the most attention. This particular problem also seemed to outline a theme for the past 24 hours; accidental life or accidental death.

~17 hours earlier~

You both sat on the bathroom floor in quiet anxiety. Your hands were joined in a world of worry. At the moment, it was impossible to tell who was more worried, since neither of you could bring yourselves to speak.

The longest two minutes of your lives were currently taking place. The test was sitting on the counter of the sink, and neither of you were counting down to when you could look at it again. Every now and then, a reassuring thought would come to mind that you were all worked up over nothing. After all, Joe was right; you barely had any evidence other than the fact that you were late, so you couldn't just assume the worst. On the other hand though, you couldn't help but feel that there was some impending doom about to come, almost like you felt it instinctively.

With you both being scared shitless at the moment (and not even trying to hide it), you sensed that deep down, both of you knew what the result was going to be. Neither of you wanted to admit it, though.

A few rooms away, the phone suddenly sounded off, shattering the tension and making you both jump. It was almost like a form of divine intervention to prevent you from thinking any more. Almost immediately, Joe lifted his hand away and quietly said that he'd answer it. He stood up and left, leaving you alone with a possibly huge revelation sitting on the counter a few feet away. However, that would no longer be your biggest concern, for you could easily overhear Joe talking on the phone.

"'Ello?" he answered before pausing and replying anxiously, "No, I really don't have a minute... I can't say, but I don't have time to chat. You alright, mate?”

There was an unnerving pause before you heard Joe ask, "Why?"

There was an even longer pause before he spoke again. Your heart was pounding more. That gut feeling that your lives were about to change for the worse grew enormously without warning. On top of that, you suddenly realized that it had been well over two minutes at this point. Your future awaited you now.

"Fuck... oh my god..." Joe's voice was a lot more quiet now, "...oh my god, is he...?"

Now, you began weaving your hands together, slowly growing more and more impatient and worried.

"Dammit," Joe said a little louder, "We'll we've gotta go, then. We've gotta go as soon as possible. What about Rick and Sav...? Alright, then. We'll meet you there tomorrow morning- I've really gotta go and tell Y/N right now. I'll call you in a bit. Yeah, alright... just try and calm down, mate- okay? See ya, then."

As soon as he hung up, you heard him rush back to the bathroom.

"Y/N, he huffed before he was even in the room, "Y/N, something's happened and we’ve gotta-“

He froze in the doorway upon seeing you now standing and completely covering the test in your hands.

"No," he moved forward and put a hand on yours, "Please don't look at it yet; something awful's happened and I don't know how much sudden news we can take at this point. Did you look at it?”

You shook you head, not breaking eye contact with him, "No, but now I'm too scared to take my hands off. What's happened?"

He came right out with it, "Steve's been found unconscious at a bar in Minneapolis. They took him to a hospital, he’s in intensive care and... and he’s pretty bad.”

Right then and there, you dropped the test in your hands with a gasp. You were speechless, but part of you couldn't help but ask, "Is- is he gonna make it?”

You suddenly saw tears in Joe's eyes when he answered, "I don't know... he won't die unless we knock some fucking sense into him! That was Phil who just called, and he sounded scared shitless..."

"W-well what are we gonna do? Is anyone going to see Steve?"

"We are. Tomorrow morning we're flying out with Phil, Mutt, Tony, and Peter."

"Wait, what about Rick and Sav?"

"They both can't make it on short notice. We're gonna have to give Steve a beatin’ over the head from them.”

Just like that, you forgot all about the test on the floor. Steve was dying, and that was enough to flood your mind. You wanted to cry, you wanted to hug Joe, you wanted to scream, and most of all, you wanted to see Steve and sob your brains out to him.

"He's never gonna get better, is he?" you quietly asked, not particularly looking for an answer. Joe shrugged and sighed, running his hands through his hair.

He coldly chuckled in a quiet voice, "Not unless we keep drilling it into his head that he's gonna kill himself!"

Hanging your head out of astonishment, you sat on the counter, realizing that this was the biggest blow to your lives since Rick’s accident.

At least, it would be until you saw the result of the test on the floor.

"Joe..." you whispered to him, staring down at your hands, "Should we look at the test? Should we wait until we get back?"

Joe did nothing more than stare at you, frowning nervously. He moved his own hands forward, placed them on top of yours, and took a deep breath.

“We’re only gonna be more worried if we wait... so we might as well settle things now.”

Joe slowly got on his knees, and felt on the floor for the test without looking at it. When he located it, he rose back to his feet, and brought the test forward. He kept it covered with all his fingers wrapped around it to conceal the verdict.

Blowing out a trembling breath, you looked at him as he did at you, and he gently unfolded his fingers from the test. You both simultaneously looked down to see the clearly marked result. In that second, you were fairly certain that life would never be the same.

In fact, you were positive.

***

“Now is literally the worst possible time to talk about this, Joe,” you whispered again so no one else on the plane could hear, “It can wait a day or two. We’ve got to worry about Steve first."

Joe nodded a little, agreeing with you, “Okay, I suppose it can wait.”

“Don't stress yourself out so much; it's literally making you sick. Besides, I’m the one who’s supposed to be sick,” you chuckled, “That’s not your job.”

“Oh shut up,” he laughed a little, “It really is the turbulence… and the fact that Steve’s… and you’re… and I’m surprised you’re not this overwhelmed.”

You sighed and turned your head towards the window, “Yeah... I’m really surprised, too. This is gonna be one hell of a story to tell this kid when they’ve grown up...”

“I feel sorry that their story had to start out like this,” Joe put another hand on top of your already joined hands with a guilty exhale, “With such bad timing...”

As you watched the illuminated clouds move on by the window of the plane, you couldn’t help but think that things truly would be okay at one point: like that maybe this wouldn’t be such bad timing after all. Things would all work out eventually. How far away that merciful checkpoint was, you’d never be able to guess.

***

Later that day, you found yourself sitting in a circle of people in a rather pleasant-looking and sunlit room. For such a nice day that it was, nothing about the day seemed to fit the mood the weather provided; the universe simply wouldn’t allow it. Now was the time for the serious matter you came for; you were desperately trying to help Steve.

“Steve, you’re scaring the shit out of us,” Phil read bluntly from his letter to his best friend, trying not to let soft emotion seep into his tone. He knew he needed to be stern, but caring towards him.

The whole time he spoke, you wanted to devote all of your attention to him and Steve, but soon found that you couldn't. The constant thought of your unborn child was first on your mind, and although you didn’t want that taking over your thoughts, it was beginning to eat you alive. You almost felt like you couldn't hold the secret back any longer, despite only knowing for a day. In any other circumstances, it would have been so much easier to keep it secret. Today, however, was the worst possible day, with the worst possible scenario.

Every now and then, Joe would look over at you to see how you were doing, and turn back to not be conspicuous to everyone else. You could practically sense his growing worry. Going on in this manner for so long was starting to make your own unstoppable thoughts bubble to the surface. You couldn't hold out for much longer, and was even starting to think outside the box about your while situation. Was being with child really a problem? Did it have to be a bad thing right now? Could you actually find a way to rip some positivity from it all and shed some light on this situation?

That's when it hit you.

When Phil was done his speech, some silent tears were shed by everyone in the circle (including Steve). Near silence commenced afterwards (which only reminded you that there was no distraction from your thoughts now). You reached out to Joe slowly, and took his hand in a tight grip without looking at him. While you felt his eyes on you, you didn't dare look at him.

"Has anyone else got something to say to add onto that?" Peter softly asked, looking around the circle. Your heart began to pound; an opening for you was coming.

Phil slowly began to comment, looking at his feet, "Well, there's nothing I can say to get the point across any more. We can beg and plead all we want but the point still stands, Steve. I know you're not a fan of us guilt tripping you to hell- but we don't want to beat you up; that’s not what we came here to do. We love you, mate... so it doesn't matter whether or not we guilt trip you by saying we're worried sick, or- or..."

"I'm pregnant," you stated simply, closing your eyes and squeezing Joe's hand. While you didn't see it, you felt Joe inhale and look at you instinctively. For the single day that you were aware of your condition, you and Joe had feared the "p" word, and avoided using it at all costs.

Phil didn't entirely comprehend what you said, and kept talking on, "Exactly, even if we said that-"

"No-" you sat up in your seat and opened your eyes, now shaking again, "I mean... I'm pregnant."

You looked over at Joe, who seemed tired, yet understanding. Your eyes went down to his hand as you corrected yourself, "We're pregnant."

All eyes were on you now, but no one had any inclination to speak for a moment.

“Are you serious?” Mutt broke the silence in astonishment, “You're fucking with us right now, aren't you?"

“She’s not,” Joe shook his head, still fixing his loving eyes on you.

Steve looked at Phil and stated coldly, "I thought you said you guys weren't gonna make stuff up to guilt trip me."

"Does it look like I'm making this up?!" you snapped at him, anxious and shameful tears brimming your eyes. You looked around at everyone, landing your eyes on Steve.

"So you're serious?” he asked softly, frowning as he flicked off ashes from his cigarette, “You really are pregnant?”

You nodded, trying to hold yourself together.

“When did you find out?” Peter inquired gently, coming off as the most calm member of the group.

Your voice began to break as you told him with a sad chuckle, “Yesterday... we were waiting for the result of the test right when you called, Phil...”

Phil's eyes lit up at your statement, and he apologized, "Oh- fucking hell... Joe... you even said you didn't have time to talk... and what I said on the plane this morning- must've only made things worse... guys, I'm so sor-"

"That wasn't your fault, mate," Joe smiled sadly, "There's no way you could've known."

"It was just bad timing," you stared at Joe's hand in yours, feeling him shaking as well.

No one spoke for a while after that; no one could think of the right thing to say. It seems you both had scared them all into silence (even more than Steve had). Everyone in the circle couldn't speak because they no longer saw you and Joe the same way. A minute ago, you were still Y/N and Joe. Now, you were mum and dad. The others didn't know how to speak to those strange new people just yet.

“Well, congratulations, for one thing,” Tony broke the silence with a soft smile. A few muffled chuckles and agreements went around the circle, but it wasn’t what you or Joe wanted to hear.

“No, no, that’s not the point,” you threw your hands out in frustration, “We never even planned on telling anyone today! Don’t you guys see how suddenly life can come and go? Twenty-four hours ago Joe and I didn’t even have a child, and now we do. Twenty-four hours ago, we didn’t even think that there was a possibility of you dying-“ you pointed at Steve, giving him your own furious input, “-and now there is. It’s just all so surreal, but no matter how bad the timing of your life is, there’s always time to fight for survival. And that's exactly what we need to get a grip on right now.”

Steve put out his cigarette at this point, looking as if he were genuinely listening to you now more than ever.

“And I guess timing was a real bitch to us today,” you put a hand on your abdomen for the first time since you found out, addressing Steve directly, “But I’d say now you’ve got a little bit more to fight for. Just think about this whole situation; it’s not exactly a tale to be proud of. If this story keeps getting worse, and this is how it ends for you- I don’t want that to be the story of Uncle Steve. I want our child to be born into a world where you're thriving- where they... where they actually have an Uncle Steve."

You had hit a nerve (or a soft spot, to say the least). Before you even realized exactly what you had said, everyone in the circle was crying, including you and Steve. Joe looked at you with his face smothered in tears, but smiling, no less.

The seven of you remained like that for a minute or two, absorbing what had really hit everyone hard, and quietly crying your brains out.

Steve didn’t raise his head to ask you with heartfelt astonishment, “...Uncle Steve, really?”

“C’mere, you fucking idiot,” you sprang to your feet at one point and rushed over to him, taking him in your arms as he stood to take you in his without the slightest bit of hesitation.

“I love you so much, Steve,” you sobbed into his chest, “And I will always care about you. You mean so much to me, and I know you’ll mean so much to the baby, too.”

One by one, everyone else in the circle joined in the hug, each of them murmuring their love to Steve in their own affectionate way. Once you were all broken up, Joe embraced you himself and kissed you over and over again.

“Hey, back off from her,” Mutt teased, “Haven’t you done enough?”

“I still can’t believe you knocked her up,” Phil sighed with happy disbelief, “That’s something we only ever joked about!”

“Yeah well, it doesn’t have to be seen as a joke anymore,” Joe put his hands on your hips and smiled, tearing up all over again, “I’m gonna be a dad...!”

Peter chimed in, “Now that’s a bit scary.”

“It’s not scary,” you chuckled, stroking the back of Joe’s head, “It’s exciting! Timing is a bitch... but I think I’m ready for anything time can throw at me, now.”

Reaching that point of acceptance was a day-long journey that you thought would never have a final destination. All was nearly well in that moment where you and Joe hugged with a seemingly-changed Steve standing by. Right then and there, the future seemed bright for everyone; including your unborn child. An eternity went by in those two days you were gone for, and even though the next day you found out that your test result was a false positive, and Steve only lived for about another year, that false positive seemed to be just what you all needed to keep the world at bay.

The end

[romanoffsbish]

Red Room Affairs

Y/N’s POV

Nat, Yel, and I planned to escape the Red Room today, it's risky but necessary.

Nat's optimistic, I am too, but if I'm being honest I'm not for me. If it comes down to who gets out, I've made it my personal mission to ensure it's them. They're the closest thing to family I've ever had.

I know they taught us "Love is for children" but I couldn't help but to fall for her. She was mesmerizing, yeah she's beautiful, but deep down she's so much more. She has this ability to make you feel safe even when you're the furthest thing from it.

Her warmth she radiates in the darkest of times is everything when locked away in a cold place like this. She's shown me every day that being better is worth fighting for. To live a life that doesn't cause pain to others is something that's possibly obtainable. Her love has been what's kept me alive all these years while we grew up together in this torture.

So today, if anything does go wrong, I'll be damned if it affects her of Yel. It's time I give her back everything she's given me. I'll continue to love her in secret, until I'm able to do so freely. If that never comes it'll be okay. I mean, who is it to say she even feels the same. I'm probably more of an obligation to her at this point. I'm just overthinking things at this point. It's time for "training" so let me just focus and not be suspiciously nervous. It's about 12 hours until bedtime AKA when we plan to make our move.

——2 hours later(10am)——

Nat's POV

I'm currently eating my lunch which consists of a stale PB&J and an apple. Lunch is only 15 minutes before we start another stint of training. I'm purposefully avoiding Y/N & Yel as to not seem too suspicious as today's the big day. My goal is to get us out and somehow return to end the Red Room. I plan to start small and that is by getting MY girls out.

Yel is my baby sister and I'll be damned if I leave her here. Y/N... Oh my Y/N. To most she's cold—which is obviously a valid defense mechanism—but to me she's everything.

She's just so beautiful, and she loves so hard. She knows how to make me smile, even on the toughest of days. Even with her attempts to be cold, when I watch new recruits come through I see her send them a warm smile and apologetic eyes in an attempt to soften the blow.

She's so afraid she'll never be "good" but she doesn't realize she's already there. I've watched her protect Yelena with a fierceness, taking credit for her mistakes and accepting her punishments. She always shares her food with me even when I try to stop her.

She puts everyone above herself, and I admire that. I also fear it because I want her to value herself more. I need to know she'll fight for herself just as hard. I just love her too much to lose her, and I don't think she'll ever realize that.

"Natalia!" ... "You'll be leading training so hurry and don't mess up. Do well, and that'll bring you one step closer to graduation!" Madame B instructs.

Her words send shivers down my spine but I keep my composure and nod in response before hurrying off to the training room.

After hearing what she just said I'm more excited that we planned this escape for tonight.

Y/N's POV

As I walk in I see Nat up front with a concerning face but I have to ignore it for the sake of upholding images.

"Fall in!" Nat barks out

The widows begin to do so, and I can't help but wonder why she's leading training today. Normally trainings are held by upper level widows. This new development concerns me, kind of makes me think they're growing suspicious. I'm probably just spiraling, but now my guards up pretty high about tonight.

Yelena's POV

I'm currently in training and I can't help but notice Y/N and Nat's faces. They both look somewhat scared. Let me tell you, I'm not scared. I'm excited!!! I've always wanted to try pizza, when we get out tonight that's first on my list. Then I guess taking down Dreykov, Madame B., and the Red Room would be a close second.

Nat leading class sucks... I never listen to her, why should I start now... As much as I want to act out against her, I'll restrain for the sake of our escape tonight.

——2.5 hours later(12:30pm)——

Y/N's POV

Training is over, at least physically... Next up we got 30 minutes to stretch our limbs before we move into psychological and weapons training... YAY!

——3.5 hours later(4pm)——

Nat's POV

"Natalia, your training session went well... I would like you to meet people who will be interested in your skill set. You're one step closer to graduation."

I gulp but keep it discreet, and nod in faux appreciation.

"Yes ma'am! Thank you for the opportunity!" I reply swiftly, hoping she'll dismiss me to head to "hygiene" hour

"Be ready tomorrow morning at 5AM!"

"Of course ma'am" I reply

SHIT! Thankfully our plan for tonight's set. There's no way I'm "graduating" and leaving to do more harm, or leaving them behind.

——2 hours later (6pm)——

It's time for dinner. Which means it is the last glimpse we get of each other before we make our great escape. I collect my delicious platter of slop. We got dry chicken, unseasoned vegetables, and some weird candy to make us feel "appreciated." I sit with Y/N and Yel.

Dinner's meant for eating, not much room for fraternizing with all eyes watching. That's why we've gotten our morse code on lock while occasionally uttering meaningless sentences as to not look overtly suspicious.

"Congrats on your training position Natalia." Y/N calmly states while simultaneously confirming final escape details in morse code.

Yel's just eating away which does nothing for my nerves, she never takes anything seriously.

Y/N's POV

"Thank you" she abruptly responds while confirming details with me one last time.

I can tell she's anxious, so I send her a small, quick smile and slide over my weird candy. Then I do a double take at Yel who has stolen the last of my chicken.

"cyka" I whisper under my breath while receiving side eye from Yel and a chuckle covered by a cough from Nat.

"Goodnight" I dryly say aloud as I clear my space and leave to get ready for the night time routine.

"Goodnight" they both respond. I leave a small smile and nod

——1.5 hours later (7:30pm)——

As I'm sitting in my bed running over the exit strategy I overhear people talking.

"The girl, the red head... Natalia right? She's being scouted tomorrow."

SHIT! Now I understand why she's been leading today and also why she's seemingly extra nervous. She realized today's her last chance to get out. Which tells me this is going to be messy. She now has a price on her head. I also now have an even bigger reason to be prepared to sacrifice myself for the greater good of my girls.

——30 mins later(8pm)——

                     *whistle*... that's my cue

Nat's POV

I  just collected Yelena and now I am grabbing Y/N. We have to move fast, I'm preparing myself for the worst. Y/N's here now and even though she's hard to read, she's an open book to me. She smiles, but I can see the fear in her eyes. I began to lead us down the designated pathway and it's going pretty smoothly. We only had about three halls left until we were out and in the clear.

As we were reaching the final hall and I was hacking through the doors system an alarm went off. I heard footsteps in the distance. It couldn't have been more than 6 hallways out. I almost had the door open, shit! All I can do is ensure some of us get out.

"Guys, we're in trouble" Yelena states the obvious.

"I know!" Y/N and I whisper shout at the same time

"Ok.. Listen, you two need to run as soon as I get this door open"

"Ok!"- Yel "No way!"-Y/N

Y/N's POV

If she thought the 2/3 included me she was wrong.

"What do you mean? You two go, I'll be right behind" she says in an attempt to be confident and convince me.

"Bullshit! You don't get to save the world for just me & Yel. You're the good one Nat, you have to be the one that gets out. I won't let you get punished for this then sold off to an organization the next day.." I whisper shout at the redhead

"This was my plan, of course I should go down for it. You're the good one Y/N, stop pretending you aren't... please." She begs.

I nod with teary eyes, fake conceding.

           *click* the doors officially open

"Go!" Nat whisper shouts.

I look deep into her eyes while giving her my best smile. I see Yel's already scaling the gate. In a quick motion I pull her in for a deep kiss, throwing her off and before she could think I push her out the door.

"I love you, go be good!" I quickly remark before shutting the door anticipating the steps closing in around me.

I braced myself for what's to come while the image of Nat's etched into my brain. God, she looked so hurt, but in the end this is what had to happen.

Nat's POV

"No!... Please no!" I shout as the door shuts in my face. I'm on the verge of tears, but I can't cry. Not now. I can't let the shut door be in vain.

"I love you too..." I whisper to myself as I escape.

———————————————————————

1,683 words. Pt.2 will be posted (:

❤️Kaitlyn ☺️

[pastel-bullet-101]

Part 8

Okay at this point I keep going back and forth. At this point I've just been glaring at the plank of wood for who knows how long while sitting on the floor. It's so annoying not being able to do anything. I wanted to keep trying but I can't just do the same thing  and expect different results. Not to mention I don't wanna go across campus just to get another stupid plank of wood. I slowly stand up and start pacing around the plank of wood. "Am I just stupid? Is this super easy and I'm just overthinking it? Is this even possible?" I looked at the peice of wood as if I was expecting a reply. "Uhhhggg."

I flopped myself down onto the padded floor covering my eyes with my hands. Is this it? Is this as far as I could get?

I'm just...

Worthless

"Giving up so soon?"

Huh?

I quickly sit up and turn to see my teacher Mr. Aizawa. I can already feel myself flush a bit from embarrassment. "N-no! I mean of course not...Sir. I was just uh...catching my breath?" My statement sounded more like a question. Causing Mr. Aizawa to chuckle a bit. "It's okay to take breaks you know. Overworking never gives good results."

"Y-yeah." I found myself starting to scratch my scalp. I'm aware it's a bad habit but let's just say its slightly learned. Not to mention when I'm stressed or uncomfortable my body starts feeling itchy and my scalp is covered by hair so that was the most convenient area.

I find myself staring holes into the ground hoping this awkward situation would go away. "So do you want me to lock you in here or what?" At that I quickly turn around the confusion on my face must tell it all. "The lesson is over for today so I recommend you go change and start heading to your next class."

"HUH?! WAIT ALREADY?"

I look over to the clock and sure enough it was already late. "Crap sorry I'll get going." I quickly start running to the dressing room to change. I can't afford to be late.

.

.

.

.

The school day ended pretty soon after that. "Hey Y/n, where were you?" Huh?

I turned around to see Tsu. "Oh uh...its kinda embarrassing..." I then gave her a light hearted chuckle. "Its okay you dont have to tell me I was just worried ribbit." My heart slightly swelled at that momment. "Tsu!! Your so sweet!" I then hugged her close. She felt so tiny and precious. "You're welcome?" She then patted my arm a bit. I then let her gon and started itching my scalp a bit. "S-sorry that was weird wasn't it? I just get to excited... I-I never actually had a friend before so sorry if I'm to pushy." She then patted me on the head and gave me a smile. "That's okay I'm pretty new to the friend department myself ribbit." She put her finger to her chin with her tounge stuck out. "So I guess we'll learn together." She then gave me a smile. "Yeah we will!" I responded with a mini fist pump.

After a while of walking I separated ways with Tsu giving her a small wave goodbye. I make way to the train station and sit down and patiently wait for my train to arrive. I finally relax into my seat my legs sore from all of the running and standing all day. Uhhgg I'm so tired... I really just wanna go home and go to sleep but knowing Tomura he won't let me go to sleep before I give him a 30 minute summary. Oh wait. With that I quickly dug through my bag remembering what Midoriya had given me. I look at the notebook noticing how the edges were slightly fried and it was obviously very... used. I open up the book and begin to give it a read. Sadly there wasn't a lot of information on anybody in our class but there was a lot on pro heroes. I then turned the page and was completely overwhelmed by a whole two pages dedicated to all might.

Wow okay then. So I'm gonna take a wild guess and say ge likes all might. A lot. As I read over everything I notice he has pretty mundane favorite food, favorite hobby, ect. I turn the page and then a peice of paper falls out. What the? I pick it up and unfold it. I look over it and it looks like a meal plan and some type of workout schedule. A pretty intense one at the looks of it.

We will know be boarding please stay clear of closing doors.

Huh. Shit! I lost track of time I quickly put the notebook back into my bag and run towards the train. Luckily the bench I was sitting on wasn't far from the train. Sadly just those few second of being late caused for almost no seats to be available. Great guess I'm standing for a while. The train then begins to go and I try my best not to just fall over.

Luckily after one or two stops I was able to get a seat. As my body relaxed I felt extreme drowsiness begin to envelop me. So I decided to go back to reading Midoriya's notebook in hopes it'll keep me occupied. I got out the same note book again and tried to flip back to the page I was previously on before I had to rush onto the train but the reading was short lived when the notebook was snatched from my hands from someone who was sitting beside me. "Hey! You can't just go around taking-" I turned only to see Bakugou Katsuki also known as the hot head of class 1-A. "Taking things? I could say that to you considering I know for a fact that this isnt your property. Maybe I should report you and get your annoying ass expelled?"

[murdereddaydreams]

Jasahi First Time

Warnings: SMUT, body worship kind of, mutual masturbation I think?, creampie, unprotected sex

A/N: honestly my titles are so self explanatory it's laughable. I wanted to write some self indulgent Jasahi smut so I did. It's written in third person I think? I really don't even know but enjoy if you're into this! Definitely my longest piece ever, not gonna lie. Smut starts after the song!

Word Count: 2,872

Time flies when you're not paying attention to it and living in the moment. Though that didn't mean that time was completely forgotten. That was actually Asahi's current issue while he was preparing for the night with help from his closest friends. It wasn't with deciding an outfit, it was something far more important for the night.

"Why are you so nervous, man? You said it yourself, she's been dropping hints! Clearly she wants this too!" Of course Nishinoya would be all for this, Tanaka chiming in right after him in approval. This notion even received mutters of agreement from Sugawara and Daichi. This all caused Asahi to stop his pacing and look at all of them.

"But… it's going to be our first time with each other or anyone else for that matter… What if something goes wrong? What if I hurt her?" He knew he was strong, he also knew he was overall bigger than his girlfriend, so it was only fair that he would worry about hurting her. He also didn't want to ruin the moment by doing something stupid accidently. He just had to be an overthinker, didn't he?

"Asahi, she knows this. You said it yourself. It'll be fine, you both have the same level of experience. She wants this as her gift for her birthday, she'll enjoy it no matter what." Somehow, Daichi's words soothed his nerves for a second. It was a vicious cycle for the next few hours until it was time for them to all leave so he could go pick up his girlfriend of three years. High school sweethearts, that's how he would describe them. Granted, she was still in school and ending her third year in a few months. There was a two year age difference between the two, something that never bothered either of them though the two had respected it in the sense they never went overboard with their physical affection towards each other. But tonight, they were going to be celebrating her eighteenth birthday together and she had been dropping rather obvious hints that she wanted them to finally take their relationship to that next level. He finally had accepted the idea as he pulled up in front of her apartment. Putting the car in park, he got out and did a once over on his outfit before walking to her door. He wore a pair of black dress pants, a white button up tucked inside with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow and the top three buttons left undone. The outfit was paired with black dress shoes and a black belt, his right wrist adorned with a watch and crystal bracelet that was a previous gift from his beloved. Hair was tied up in a neat yet loose low bun, the front pieces tucked behind his ears in a way that they framed his face and facial hair neatly trimmed. This was an important night, he had their dinner all planned out and even the end of the night if he didn't let his anxiety get the best of him.

"Don't you look handsome." Asahi was brought out of his thoughts when he heard the words, eyes naturally scanning over the body of the voice's owner. His cheeks flushed as he took in how her dress hugged her curves. The satin red material came to about mid thigh, the top in a sweetheart neckline held up by spaghetti straps, the fabric clinging to her body and accentuating everything in all the right places. Black heels, a black clutch, and a gold set of hoops with a gold neck finished it off. Her curly, jet black hair clipped up on the left and pushed over to the right. "Is this good for where you have planned?"

"Y-yeah! Sorry, I think I was staring. You look beautiful, like always Jasmine." His hand landed on her hip and dipping down to place a kiss to her lips, having to lean down less than usual due to her heels lessening their height difference. "Happy birthday honey."

"Thank you Asahi, we should go, I would hate for us to be late." Though it was obvious that the two would much rather go inside and spend time alone together, that is with taking into consideration how the pair looked at each other and the feeling of a different intention behind each touch and kiss. Things didn't change throughout dinner, the two casually saying little things that could be brushed off as normal to try and rile up the other. Whatever anxiety there was for that night melted away from the two now that they were together. They knew this was something they both wanted and they knew they had to take advantage while they still could. In a few months they would be separated. Each moment together was precious and this was no exception. Before they even knew it, dinner had been finished and the two were back at her apartment. Somewhere they knew they would be alone and uninterrupted.

"I love you." The words were said in perfect unison when they passed the threshold into the privacy of the apartment, the door getting locked behind them. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close for a much needed kiss. One that he happily returned, arms wrapping around her waist before deciding he should just take her to the bedroom. Feeling his hands on the back of her thighs prompted her to jump up, legs wrapping around his waist as he walked to the bedroom. Once there, he took a seat on the edge of the bed, having her body placed on his lap as the kiss was never broken and instead deepened. A soft moan escaped her lips, hips pressing down onto his to get some sort of friction. Her dress had hiked up to around her hips, giving her easier access to grind down on the bulge growing in his pants.

"Fuck…" Asahi was the first to break the kiss, letting out a rare curse from his lips. This was more than enough motivation for her, adjusting so that the two could get the most enjoyment. For a pair that had been nervous about this event all day, they sure seemed to be falling into place with ease. It could have been because they were so comfortable and in love with each other. It could have also been because while one was more outspoken about it, it was something they both have been wanting for some time now. Neither had pushed the other though, communication was something the two strived for and this was no exception. Tonight was the night it was agreed on and there was no stopping them now.

"I love you so much." Her voice broke through the soft pants of the pair as they were focused on the small amount of relief they were giving themselves. Foreheads linked together, eyes closed, enjoying the beginnings of pleasure between them. Those words warmed Asahi’s heart, hands going to her hips and giving a soft squeeze. Her hands moved to cup his face, gently moving his face so they could look at each other. "I love you Asahi, never doubt that. I'm happy we can do this." She leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to his nose. Right now, they both completely stopped their attempts to relieve themselves as they just looked at each other.

"I love you too. I knew I wanted you in my life when we first met. I'm glad you trust me with this." Words were forgotten after that, the two once again connecting their lips as they pulled their bodies closer together. Her hands slowly trailed down to the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one as her fingers caressed the freshly exposed skin until she was able to slip the shirt off his shoulders. The fabric fell to his elbows, hands leaving her hips to toss it to the floor. His hands found their place on her hips soon after, his right hand traveling up her body to the zipper on the back of her dress. Silently, he asked for permission which received a response in the form of her grinding down on his growing bulge. That was all he needed as an answer, slowly pulling the zipper down to where it naturally fell off her body. Reluctantly, she removed herself from him, standing in front of him and having the garment fall around her feet. Now in her bra and panties, she nervously bit her bottom lip. Both of them had a flush on their cheeks. His eyes were taking in every aspect of her body, how the lingerie accentuated her hips and her full breasts. He couldn't believe that she was with him, he truly did feel lucky.

"Asahi…" Her voice was soft, a nervous energy to it that made his eyes fall on hers. He stood up, towering over her as he cupped her face in his large hand and tilted her up to look at him.

"I'm sorry honey, you're just so beautiful. I promise I'll do my best to please you." Giving her a small peck, he easily lifted her and placed her on the bed, his own body hovering over her. The way his body was able to easily engulf hers always did something to her but now it took on a different meaning other than just cuddling. Her hand ran down his torso, fingertips barely brushing against the skin before she landed on his belt. As much as she loved all of this, the anticipation of getting to do the deed, she was also getting impatient. She wanted to feel herself full of him, the two crying out together as they became one. It didn't take him long to understand what she wanted, always having been able to read her easily since they embarked on a relationship. It actually made a low chuckle escape his lips as he helped her with his pants. While he slipped out of them and tossed them aside, she had done the same with her bra. He took his place back over her body, her hands coming to rest on either side of his neck. They got lost in the moment just looking at each other until she pulled him down for a kiss. While their lips moved in perfect sync, his hand ran down the side of her body until his finger hooked around the waistband of her panties. A small moan escaped her lips into the kiss, encouraging Asahi to venture to her clothed core. His fingers slid along her slit, taking in how the damp fabric felt.

"Sweetie… please…" Her words came out in a soft moan, hips moving to connect with his touch more than they already were. Now, he never hesitated to do what she asked of him and this was no different. He knew what she wanted, removing her panties and moving his hand to gently caress her inner thigh. The whine that came out of her lips led to him moving his fingers to her core. A groan left his lips, feeling just how wet she was and knowing it was all for him. Tentatively, he ran his fingers up and down her slit, testing the waters and seeing just how she would react. The feeling of his calloused fingers against her wet folds caused her to close her eyes as soft moans escaped her lips. "Asahi…"

"God… you're perfect…" The way she was so responsive to his touch was doing wonders for his confidence. Carefully, he dipped one finger past her entrance, gently thrusting the thick digit in and out. He was so transfixed on her, he didn't even realize he had freed his hard cock from his boxer briefs and had begun to stroke himself. His soft groans led to her opening her eyes, dark orbs falling on his thick length. Her hand slowly came down to replace his hand, taking over his motions. The way her much smaller and softer hand felt against him made his breath hitch and he found himself adding a second finger. His thumb reached up and gave firm pressure to her clit, small circles accompanying it. Eyes shutting again, back arching off the bed, her hand began to pick up it's pace.

"Baby please, I need you inside me already." Her whine caused him to smirk softly to himself, knowing he too needed to be inside her. Gently removing his fingers from her core, he watched her flutter around nothing before removing her hand from his cock so he could line himself up with her dripping entrance.

"Tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable." This was a shared experience, one of many to come, and he wasn't going to make her regret picking him. Dragging his tip along her slit, he did his best to collect her slick before beginning to slowly press into her. Neither seemed to think twice that he still had a piece of clothing on, both far too focused on what they really wanted. Both too focused on how he was nestled between her legs, how her thighs rested on top of his own as he sat back with his legs tucked under him. He wanted to be able to watch all of her while he made love to her. That was exactly what he did, watched as he slowly and carefully pushed inch by inch of his length into her core until he was fully bottomed out in her. His hands rested on her hips, waiting for her to adjust to his size as well as adjusting to her tight warmth engulfing him. She felt completely full with him buried in her, loving the feeling of finally being like this with him. She gave a little wiggle with her hips, wanting to let him know he could continue and instead caused herself to moan for him. Slowly, he pulled out until just the tip was in before he would dive back in. Easily, he had found a pace that they both seemed to enjoy. His hips pulling back only to dive back in, her hips bucking up to meet his thrusts in perfect harmony. The way he kissed her cervix was heaven, her moans and whimpers nothing but praise for the man on top of her. The way she called out to him began to take its toll, his fingers on her hips digging in just a bit more than they were and his pace growing a little faster.

"O-oh! Like that!" Her hands reached out for him desperately, taking hold of his forearms and gripping onto them. She could feel herself starting to reach her limit and she was sure he could tell. With ease, he lifted her up, left arm wrapping around her waist and gripping her left hip as his right arm wrapped around her mid back and her right shoulder. He held her close, their chests pressed together as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Hands scratching as his back as she cried out in pleasure over and over again. His thrusts were full of power, that strength he always tried to restrain when it came to her was now on full display. Asahi buried his face in the crook of her neck, chasing his own high as well as hers. If anyone had walked in, they would have thought she was bouncing on his cock but that was the mere force of his thrusts. Head tossed back, eyes shut tight, she screamed out his name as he successfully pushed her over the edge to her orgasm. He followed soon after, calling out her name as he spilled all his seed inside of her. The way her walls clenched made him swear she was personally trying to milk him for all he's worth and he didn't mind one bit. With him still buried deep inside of her, they attempted to catch their breaths before daring to move. Cautiously, she pulled away from him, taking his face in her hands and kissing him lovingly. He quickly returned the kiss, pulling away only to smile at her. "I love you."

"I love you too. I wasn't too rough, was I?" This caused her to giggle and shake her head, slowly moving from his lap so she could lay back on the bed.

"Not at all, I loved it. You should take your underwear off, I'm pretty sure we won't need them in the morning." Her boldness caused his face to flush though he grinned eagerly and did as told. Once he was beside her, she reached over to her nightstand and grabbed a baby wipe. Cleaning herself off followed by him, she tossed it in the garbage before snuggling into his chest where he naturally wrapped his arms around her after pulling the blanket over them. "Best birthday ever. I can't wait for us to do that more often."

"I'm always willing when you are. Now let's get some rest, yeah?" He kissed the top of her head, smiling as she snuggled closer to him.

"Okay okay. I love you Asahi, good night."

"I love you too Jasmine."