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sirensmojo · 3 years

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"Crossroads" - Michael Gray x Reader

Warnings: Big fluff.

Summary: You visit Michael in the hospital for the first time in years after his departure from your village.

*Masterlist*

A/N: this is my first Michael Gray fic, plz take that into consideration...

“There’s a girl asking to see you, Sir.” The nurse informed Michael, “Do you accept the visit?”

“Who is it?” His eyes lifted up from the white bedsheet he was staring at, blankly.

“A certain Y/N.”

At the announcement of your name, his dull eyes lightened up, but it didn’t last. His mind suddenly got clouded with the hundreds of questions he usually was asking himself when alone.

Were you alright? Did you get out of town as you promised each other, were you still visiting his “mother” on Wednesday's afternoons, were you angry at him for leaving you?

“Yeah, let her in.” His answer was full of apprehension, making the nurse unsure of letting you in. She stayed there watching as the man shifted position, trying to get comfortable as he knew your reunion wouldn’t be easy. “I said let her in,” Michael squinted his eyes at the nurse seeing she was still there, and that’s when she got out.

He exhaled deeply, mentally preparing himself but he couldn’t escape the tremendous flow of emotions washing over him.

You were his first love, the first girl he ever saw as a woman, even if you were still quite young. He just couldn't ignore the way he felt when he used to be with you, even after all this time, even after going out with other girls, your face never left him.

“Michael.” You hesitantly entered, unsure of the fact coming in here was a good idea.

You were in town for quite long now, but never took the time to search for him. Not because you didn't care, it was the opposite.

He had never kept from you his wish to leave your little village and you thought that maybe having you in his life now wouldn't bring him anything but memories of a place he wanted to forget.

But as the time passed, you realized you couldn't get him out your mind, no matter how hard you tried. No matter what you did, it all came back to him in the end.

His smile, laugh, touch and love, you missed everything.

You knew very well the Peaky Blinders, just like every Birmingham residents, and you knew he was one of them.

You used to tease him back then about him leaving the village after burning it or something, and here you were, him being part of a gang. This couldn't fit your Michael best.

He was a very intelligent, talented, kind and good person, but you always knew that deep down, this tranquillity was hiding a darker side, a deeper meaning of who he was.

It wasn't a surprise at all for you when you heard about his new life, you were even quite happy that he could express himself and evolve in a favourable environment.

He seemed preoccupied with something but his eyebrows unknitted at the sight of your face.

Your finger waved curls were perfectly falling on each side of your head, and Michael’s eyes were falling over your olive designed dress, tassels falling right under your knees.

He always loved this green on you, and that only hit you now.

The aggressively sexy green dress you told him you would, one day, wear in the streets so everybody could be shocked and talk about how a woman should dress.

If you remembered this detail this morning you wouldn’t have come in this dress. Now, Michael was looking at you with those gleaming eyes and you knew that when his eyes will lift up to yours, you’ll find in them the same sparks behind his iris as when you were younger.

Maybe coming in here truly was a bad idea.

“Y/N,” he kept a stern face but you were reading him like a book. His hands were clammy, his jaw clenched, his shoulders tensed along with all his muscles.

You could see he was as nervous as you, and you also knew that if you could read him that easily he probably could do the same with you.

Michael was sitting on his bed straight like an “I”, and that’s only when you sat at his side that he leaned backwards on his pillows.

That idea of knowing each other despite time and distance was what helped you to breathe out the air you didn't realize you were holding, leaving your chest less heavy.

You didn’t dare to stay in his eyes, too occupied searching for your cigarettes anyway. You got one out of their case and handed it to the man that was shamelessly staring at you.

“You changed.” Were his first words, and you couldn’t blame him.

Michael grabbed the cigarette and stuck it in between his fine lips before you came lightening up the tip of it for him.

When he left you were still growing up, rough look and only wearing the elegant blue pants your mother accepted you to wear. You were obsessed with pants and used to always argue about the fact women couldn’t wear them.

“Not a bit, and you haven’t either.” You teased him. It was obvious he changed, even the way he was talking was different, and you couldn’t even imagine what else in him had changed if the external changes were that evident.

His eyes drifted to you once again, what a surprise it was for him to see you dressed up as you were with your high heels.

Men have looked at you before, but the way Michael laid eyes on you was different, you found fondness in it, perhaps love? Because after all, there was still love between you, right?

Else his chest wouldn't raise that quickly and he wouldn't flutter his eyes when you would catch him staring at you.

He chuckled and offered you a warm smile before puffing on his cig. He got lost in thoughts for a moment, doing the french inhale.

Nevertheless, Michael seemed so much more distant than what you remember. Either he was staring, either he was blanking looking into the void.

He never talked too much either, but presently his silence could kill you. You just wanted to feel his hands all over you again, but you couldn't jump on him as if your story happened yesterday.

The atmosphere tensed, “I knew you would start smoking.” You let out in a huff. “Mrs Johnson was so wrong about you, it wasn’t me corrupting you, you always had it in your blood.” You concluded, the words escaping from your mouth as you were failing to stop them.

You got a cig for yourself and Michael watched you carefully, following each of your movements as if you were to disappear in a cloud of smoke if he’d just blinked.

“No,” He clenched his jaw and shook his head as his eyes darkened, "I found it here."

"Find you?"

He nodded slightly as puffing on his cig. 'You don't ask why I'm here?" He raised a brow towards you.

"I read the news, you're a peaky boy now." You winked at him.

"It's not what you think, Y/N." He was chuckling, shaking his head to both sides.

"Well, my Micheal wearing suits and being part of a dirty business, that's what I think and that's what it is. And that's sexy." You were so concentrated imagining him in his suit you didn't realize you called him yours, but Gray noticed it, which led to his lips stretching into a smile.

"I knew you were about to tell it." He flicks his fingers, looking at you with squinting eyes.

You took advantage of that exchange to look at his face, examining each of his features and internalizing everything you missed during these years apart.

"You're sexy Michael, deal with it already." You stated outright.

You always liked that about him. He wasn’t talking much, not with his words at least, but his eyes bore enough emotions by themselves. If they could talk they would spill hundreds of words on the paper with no difficulty.

"Yeah? Well, I prefer when you tell that in other circumstances."

His words echoed in your head and you didn't know if he was making a sexual reference or if he just woke up the horny you.

You tilted your head to the side a second, puffing on your cig before the tip of your fingers instantly reached for his soft skin. You were rubbing the side of his face gently with your knuckles when you remembered something.

“I left the village over a year after you, my mother died and I just couldn’t stay there, you know.” Talking was your way of coping with the fact you were reunited with your teenage love.

“I’m sorry.” His facial expression changed, he now understood why you were here. Not that he was unhappy about your visit, but he wouldn't have thought you’d ever leave this village.

“Everything I know is there” was the answer you gave him every time he encouraged you to go to the cities to try to make a living out of clothing. London, Birmingham, whatever, as long as you would be able to be who you wanted to be, and live your passion fully.

You wanted to make clothes and Michael had always been your number one fan, solely because he was the only one to see the gorgeous dresses you were sewing, but still your number one fan.

“I’m currently working to be able to own my workshop. So everything’s fine.”

He peeked at your lips while you were doing the french inhale, but ended up staring at your lips as if they were mesmerizing him.

You ignored that as well as you ignored all the signs he still felt things for you since you came into his room.

“Michael, the reason for my visit is family. I Know you found your biological mother and all, but you got another family out there, right?” You got up and joined the table to crush your cigarette into the ashtray, a vain attempt to prepare you for what you were about to announce. “Mr Johnson’s gone... I heard he died in his own bed.”

You threw him a glance, you wanted to know what he was thinking at this moment because his face was unreadable. Even though you knew him more than he knew himself, you grew apart from each other, and here was standing in front of you, a version of Michael you did not know.

He was blankly looking at the void in front of him, fisted clenched around the sheets.

You got closer to him, putting down the ashtray on the nightstand and sat down at his side again, but this time you slipped one of your hands into his as your other one, slowly turned his head towards you, so you could look at him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered as you were nearing your face to his.

It’s when you felt a little squeeze on your hand that you completely dared to give yourself to him, leaning a slow kiss over his lips.

You then pulled away, but before you could go anywhere, you felt his free hand at the back of your head, pulling you closer for another kiss, this one being feverish.

Of course, he was still loving you. It couldn’t be any different.

His hand shifted from your head to your cheek, his thumb rubbing it softly. His tender fondles contrasted perfectly with the roughness of his kisses. They became needier and needier, as if he waited to do this for a long time.

You both finally let go of the other’s lips when your lungs were screaming for air, your lids directly opening into the other’s eyes.

Here we go again, that twinkling light dancing at the back of his deep blue eyes.

“Something actually changed there,” You caressed his lips with your index, “I didn’t remember your lips tasting this way, neither you being that much of a good kisser.” Your suave voice murmured inches away from him.

You were so close you could feel his warm breath against the sensitive skin of your lips.

“Well, teach me.” His voice aroused something inside of you, and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together.

PEAKY BLINDERS TAG: @retromafia

(ask me if you want to get in one of the tag lists)

#Michael Gray x Reader #Michael Gray #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine

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goddess-of-green · 3 years

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A Green Scarf and a Good Time (PT. 2)

Porn. It's all porn. The plot is just the shit I squeezed in between sex scenes. I hope you hornies are happy.

Part 1 here!

{After your time in the closet, Tobi found he wanted more of you, and you certainly weren't going to deny him}

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Femdom!, unprotected sex

It was later that night. The game had ended hours ago and the members that were still in the base seemed to have retreated to their rooms for the night.

You were in your room, about to start getting ready for bed, but you couldn't get Tobi out of your mind.

It was like you saw a completely different side of him in the closet. You definitely saw him in a new light now.

You were nearly horrified when you caught yourself entertaining some...rather lewd scenarios about Tobi.

Come on! When did I get reduced to a hormonal teenager?! You're a grown woman, dammit! Act like it! You told yourself, slapping your cheeks, trying to get the flush to go away.

Sighing, you changed into your night clothes and splashed some water on your face, trying to clear the nasty thoughts from your head.

Finally settling into bed, you cozied yourself in your blankets and tried to drift off...

"Ngh, Y/N-Chan~!"

"Please! Tobi feels so g-good-"

Face bursting into a bright blush, you bolted upright in bed, mentally berating yourself for the lewd and intrusive thoughts that you couldn't stop from running through your mind.

After a moment, you sighed. You knew there was no going back now. You were starting to get worked up and you wouldn't be able to sleep if you didn't deal with the arousal pooling in your tummy.

Glancing at your door to make sure it was locked, you slipped a hand into your panties, and you were immediately glad no one was around to witness how wet you were.

Letting out a soft sigh at the small relief, you imagined Tobi above you.

You two kissing just as ravenously as you had in the closet, Tobi making you moan as he fingered your tight pussy.

You moaned as you slipped two fingers into your pussy, curling your fingers and hitting just right-

Knock Knock Knock

Flinching, you quickly removed your fingers and made yourself look as decent as you could.

You couldn't help the spike of irritation that bubbled up at your being interrupted, as you slipped out of your bed and went to your door.

Unlocking and cracking open the door, ready to snap at whoever was one the other side; your irritated look dissolved into a surprised one when you saw who it was.

___

Tobi knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he had an itch that he felt he couldn't scratch himself. And if the way you acted in the closet was any indication, then you felt the same.

He couldn't get your panting and flushed face out of his mind, nor could he think about it for too long without getting a boner.

Arriving outside your door, and seeing you answer the way you did, flushed and in your night clothes, looking up at him the way you were...

___

"Tobi? What is it?" You asked looking up at him, embarrassed to be facing the one you had been sexually fantasizing about only moments ago.

Tobi's body language seemed...rushed? Like there was something he needed, but couldn't get to.

He had also been eerily silent since you opened the door.

From the way his head was tilted, you would have guessed he'd been staring at your lips.

"...Tobi?" You asked again after a moment, when he didn't respond.

Tobi seemed to hear you that time, jerking up and responding, "Y-Y/N-Chan...Tobi needs you.."

Blushing, and slightly confused, you tilted your head, "I- what? What do you need Tobi?" You asked.

Tobi swallowed heavily, not that you could see it.

Tobi grasped one of your hands in both of his, "E-Er... Can Tobi come in?" He asked, slightly shakily.

You were a little peeved, knowing you probably wouldn't get off if you did let him in. But he smelled nice, and he did seem really...bothered.

So wordlessly, you pulled him into your room.

Tobi didn't say anything, even after you had closed the door behind him.

You shuffled awkwardly, Tobi being so quiet wasn't normal, and it was kind of off-putting.

"So, Tobi, what did you need?" You asked looking up at him, desperate to break the silence.

After a moment, Tobi let out a shaky sigh.

He grasped your hand, and without another word, led it to his crotch.

Your eyes widened as you felt the insistent boner under your hand.

Gulping slightly, you looked up at Tobi, hand still on his erection, "T-Tobi...you-?"

Tobi bit back a groan at your expression, nodding, "Tobi...needs Y/N-Chan...please..."

Biting your lip, you felt your previous arousal start pooling in your tummy again.

Exhaling quietly, you made your decision, reaching back to lock your door.

Tobi caught the movement, biting his lip in anticipation of what was to come.

Catching him off guard, you started to palm at Tobi's erection, drawing a moan from him.

You blushed at the sound and guided him back to your bed.

As the back of Tobi's legs hit the bed, he let himself fall the rest of the way, now panting slightly from your ministrations.

You followed Tobi onto the bed, straddling his waist as you continued to palm his hard-on.

Tugging his mask up above his lips, Tobi panted out, "Y-Y/N-Chan-"

Understanding what he wanted, you leaned down and pressed your lips to his, enjoying the moan that he let out once you did.

You two just kissed for a moment, wrapped up in each other and your arousal.

Trying to clear your lust-hazed mind, you pulled back, only more turned on by the string of saliva that connected yours and Tobi's lips.

He was too, if his little whimper was anything to go by.

Eager to get things moving, you tugged at the hem of Tobi's shirt, "May I?" You breathed, looking to him.

Tobi seemed to hesitate for only a second, before panting, "P-Please.."

Smiling slightly, You tugged off Tobi's shirt, locking lips with him again before he helped you take off yours.

Running your fingers down his chest, you savored the sculpted muscle and ignored the slight scar-tissue under your fingertips. You were far too turned on to care about that.

Tobi ran his fingers over your chest too, braless, since you had been wearing your night clothes.

Tobi swallowed as he squeezed your breast, giving into the temptation to lean down and take one in his mouth.

You moaned out as Tobi flicked his tongue over your nipple, overcome by the sensation.

"Ahh~ T-Tobi!"

Tobi liked those sounds.

You felt him pant against you, before pulling away and pressing his lips back against yours, needy.

After you two pulled away, you bent down to grasp at his pants, looking up to him once more before pulling off his pants and boxers.

Tobi panted, waiting anxiously for your reaction to his dick. He was...a little insecure.

You couldn't help but lick your lips as you saw his raging hard-on. He was easily 7 or 8 inches.

Kneeling down in front of Tobi as he sat on the edge of the bed, you put your hand on his knee, bringing your other hand up to grab his cock.

Tobi moaned rather loudly and bucked into your hand as you began to stroke him, precum already beading from the tip.

You stroked Tobi for a bit, looking up at him through your lashes while he moaned and had trouble keeping his hips still.

"A-Ahh! Y/N-Chan! It feels s-so- I-I'm c-close~!" Tobi groaned out.

As much as you wanted to let him cum, you wanted to get off too.

So, pulling your hand away, you enjoyed Tobi's needy whimper at the loss of touch.

"Ne~ Don't worry Tobi~ You'll feel much better soon. Just be a good boy for me, okay?" You husked as you stood up and removed your shorts.

Tobi gulped at the sight of you in nothing but panties, and you could have sworn he got even harder.

Climbing up and straddling Tobi's lap, nothing between you two now but your panties, you leaned into his ear. "Well? You will be a good boy for me. Won't you, Tobi~?" You whispered into his ear.

He shuddered as he felt your warm breath against his neck and nodded hastily. "Y-Yes! Y-Y/N-Chan please...T-Tobi- I need to cum so bad!" Tobi whined out, burying his face in your neck and panting as he started to lose the last of his composure.

Moaning, you decided it was time. For Tobi's sake and yours.

Quickly slipping out of your panties, you retook your place on Tobi's lap, pushing him down so he was laying on his back and you would be able to ride him.

Tobi whimpered as you grabbed his cock and finally lined him up with your entrance.

Biting your lip, you sunk down onto Tobi.

You two both immediately moaned, overcome with pleasure.

Tobi was definitely a stretch, at least 7 inches in length and girthy.

Tobi groaned, your pussy squeezing him so tight, he was seeing stars.

Resting your hands on Tobi's chest, you started to move your hips.

Tobi gasped out, bringing his hands up to your hips, moaning and too far gone to even try controlling your pace.

"F-Fuck~"

You moaned and whined, Tobi filled you so good, and you hadn't had anyone in so long and-

and then you were cumming.

It happened a bit suddenly. One moment you were climbing and climbing and then you had reached your peak all at once, the pleasure turning your vision white and making you scream.

Tobi gasped as you clenched around him, squeezing him so tight and making it practically impossible to keep going.

With a loud groan of your name, Tobi met his climax as well. Painting your insides with his seed as you moaned together, trying to ride out your high.

After you had both finished, Tobi slowly slid out of you, blushing furiously at the sight of his cum dripping out of your used pussy.

You were laying on your back, coming down slowly from your high when you felt gentle prodding at your entrance.

Tobi had grabbed some tissues he noticed on your bedside table, and was cleaning the cum from you.

Blushing at such attentions, you pulled Tobi into you once he had finished.

"I- Thank you, Tobi..." You said quietly, giving into your exhaustion as Tobi cuddled up to you, beginning to drift off as well.

Neither of you had realized that you hadn't used a condom, but that was a problem for another time.

#naruto #tobi #tobi uchiha #obito #obito uchiha #tobi x reader #tobi uchiha x reader #obito x reader #obito uchiha x reader

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

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Fic Rec Bingo!!

So instead of Fic Rec Thursday, I thought I'd do something a little different this week and recommend 25 fics based on this bingo card (although it turned into 26, oops). I kept most of these as CM because that's my blog's focus, but due to the nature of the prompts, there are 5 Marvel (Irondad) ones & 1 Sherlock towards the end!

from @lightveils on twitter, but found posted on tumblr by @cywscross <3

1. A fic with a premise that shouldn't work but does

I never would've thought I'd enjoy a fic with Spencer as a little rebellious shit because it seems so ooc, but I loved this one!

las vegas kid by trashcanbarbie - 1.9k, 1ch, Gen/Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid, Gambling, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Young Spencer Reid, Teenage Rebellion, Protective Aaron hotchner, Pre-Canon, Father-Son Relationship, Teenage Spencer Reid

JJ raises her eyebrows, “so, you're trying to say counting cards isn't cheating?” “No,” he grins, boyish and charming, “it is.”

2. A fic you've reread several times

Discipline Changes by fullofcrazyness - 1.2k, 1ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Comforting Hotch

Jack stopped and looked at his dad, finally seeing that his dad wasn’t actually angry. Concerned and relieved, but not angry. He was about to say something when he saw someone in the doorway, white as a sheet. “Papa?”

3. A comfort fic

i'm always tired, but never of you by @iamrenstark - 2.2k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Hurt Spencer Reid, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad Derek, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Derek Morgan Needs a Hug, Men Crying, Gunshot Wounds, Blood and Injury

When Spencer figured it out, he was stepping out of the elevator on the bottom floor of Quantico, and he went to tell Derek he loved him like he did every day, but he froze up, because he was afraid he wouldn't hear it back. (Or, Spencer thinks his boyfriend is falling out of love with him.)

4. A cathartic fic

Every Little Transgression by @58thacademic - 1.6k, 1ch, Gen, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad Spencer Reid, Protective David Ross, Protective Derek Morgan, Mentioned Suicide Attempt, Spencer's Backstory, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Episode: s03e16 Elephant's Memory

Ok so. Elephants memory was really good because we got Reid backstory. But I'm still annoyed that he didn't defend himself against Hotch. So this was born.

5. A fic you'd print and put on your bookshelf

One Call Away by GhostInTheBAU - 204k, 32ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Dubious Consent, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Domestic Violence, Rape Recovery, Referenced Past Drug Use, PTSD, Hurt Spencer Reid, Protective Aaron Hotchner, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Flashbacks, Healing, Nightmares, Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Eventual Smut

When Reid's boyfriend attacks him, leaving him broken and bleeding, he calls the first person he thinks of for help. He calls the only person he really wants to see. He calls Hotch.

6. A fic you associate with a song

I associate this fic with The First Thing You See by Bruno Major. I think if you listen to the song, you'll easily see why <3

You Make Waking Up Worth It by @guccifloralsuits - 2.1k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Fluff, Minor Angst, Established Relationship, Morning Routines, Hurt/Comfort, Good Things Happen Bingo

“Morning sweetheart,” Derek says, pausing briefly to ruffle his hand gently through Spencer’s hair. The genius nuzzles into the touch but doesn’t reply. It’s too early for conversation, Morgan knows. Pretty boy may get up earlier than he does, but it takes the younger a lot longer to really wake up.

7. A fic that inspires you

This fic could have been in so many categories because I adore it, but I wouldn't have started writing Rain is a Chance to be Touched without this fic so it definitely belongs here.

Forgive Me For All I Could Not Become by @degrassi-fanatic - 105k, 20ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Angst, Case Fic, Confessions, Complicated Relationships, Near Death Experiences, Friends With Benefits, Smut, Miscommunication

In which Reid has always been good at hiding things. He hid his father's departure and his mother's illness from social services. He hid his addiction from his team. He hid his sexuality from the world. He hid his inappropriate feelings from his boss. That is until he's bleeding out in Hotch's arms, in an abandoned church, in Oklahoma. From there on out, Hotch and Reid learn to make a complete mess out of each other.

8. A fic that brought you on board a new ship

Even though it's unrequited, this was the first fic that really had me going !!! at Penemily <3

Another Wide-Eyed Girl by mallfacee - 2k, 1ch, Gen/Derek Morgan & Penelope Garcia, Penelope Garcia/Emily Prentiss (Unrequited), Coming Out, Internalised Homophobia, Derek Morgan is a Good Friend, Friendship, Gunshot Wounds, Episode: s03e08 Lucky

Derek Morgan is handsome and calls her “baby girl” and smiles at her like she’s the only girl in the room. Penelope Garcia knows she should be swooning and all she can think is that there must be something wrong with her not to react to a man like that giving her all this attention. Two years later she meets Emily Prentiss and understands.

9. A fic you wish could be a movie

Listen, I adore the soulmate trope, and an angsty moreid soulmate movie? Fucking sign me up right now

i need you now but i don't know you yet by @iamrenstark - 3.1k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt Derek Morgan, Mutual Pining, Soulmates, Hurt/Comfort, Buford Mention, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Season 5

It goes like this; Spencer hasn't spoken to his soulmate since he was ten, didn't know their gender or their name or a single thing about them. Spencer's soulmate doesn't want him, and that's okay.

10. A fic that led to you making friends with the author

I'm doing two because fuck you that's why

This was one of the first fics I read of Adam's and I immediately fell in love with his writing! And I'm pretty sure that we ended up becoming friends after I rec'd it!!

Plum Sauce by @goldencatchflies - 1.5k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Jealousy, Platonic Morcia, Episode: s07e13 Snake Eyes

Garcia tells Spencer about what she thinks happened between her and Derek. He doesn’t seem too happy about it...

I read this from Syd and absolutely loved it, and like with Adam, we became friends from there! (I mean technically husband and wife, but, y'know. Semantics.)

You Belong With Me by @spencerspecifics - 11.4k, 1ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Song Fic, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Fluff

A fluffy Moreid fic based on You Belong With Me by: Taylor Swift

11. A fic you associate with a place

This reminds me of a chilled Sunday afternoon on my old sofa in my living room, with the fire on in the background. I read it all in one sitting and loved every word <3

Metanoia by @makaylajadewrites - 39k, 16ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Canon Typical Violence, Implied Rape/Non-Con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Established Relationship, Near Death Experiences, Frostbite, Rape Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Spencer Reid, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending

Oh, Derek… He couldn’t stand the thought of him bursting in with SWAT in tow, gun at the ready, only to descend those creaky stairs and find his naked, bleeding body, vacated of life, crumbled on a red-stained mattress. The realization that he was going to die at the end of this was catching up to him, but maybe it would be better that way.

In which an unfortunate resemblance to an unsub's victims puts Reid right on his radar.

12. A fic that made you gasp out loud

Gasp out loud might be a *bit* of an overreaction, but this one took me on a rollercoaster and I loved every second of it (all of bau-gremlin's fics will do that to you tbh)

The End by @bau-gremlin - 3.1k, 2ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Graphic Violence, Stabbing, Blood and Injury, Temporary Character Death, Hurt Spencer Reid, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Aaron Hotchner, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Spencer Reid

The famous interview with Chester Hardwick ... except Hotch and Reid get separated and Reid is left alone with Hardwick and a prison-made shiv.

13. A fic you found at the right time

You're Going to be Okay by fullofcrazyness - 2.6k, 1ch, Gen/Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid, Dark, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Sad Spencer Reid, Hurt Spencer Reid, Depression, Protective Aaron Hotchner, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending

Spencer was no stranger to depression. His father leaving him, his mother’s episodes, being twelve years old in a Las Vegas high school. All of those things made him very familiar with the illness. “I… I think I need some help.”

14. A fic that you would read a fic of

Chain Reaction by EloquentDossier - 42k, 16ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Alternate Universe, Texting, Dialogue-Only, Text Fic, Self-Esteem Issues, Fluff, Angst, Implied/Referenced Past Drug Use, Canon Divergence, Pining, Oblivious Aaron Hotchner, Happy Ending

A dialogue-only AU in which Hotch texts what he thinks is Rossi's new number but is actually the slightly eccentric stranger whom Hotch knows only as "Spencer." What follows is something neither man could have ever quite expected.

15. A fic that made you laugh out loud

The Bet by @degrassi-fanatic - 1.6k, 2ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Bets & Wagers, Humour, Fluff, Canon Divergence

“Fifty bucks says Hotch writes you up and sends you to sexual harassment sensitivity training.” she declares as she stares him down. Without looking away from her, Reid takes out his own wallet and flips it open to pull out a fifty dollar before placing it down right next to Prentiss’s own money. “Fifty bucks says Hotch will go out with me.”

16. A fic that gave you butterflies

The healing and dynamics in this one is just.... off the charts :')

Who Spencer Reid Loves by @blueberriesandbubbles - 36k, 11ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Abusive Relationships, Domestic Violence, Abuse, Hurt Spencer Reid, Mutual Pining, Rape Recovery, Healing, Fluff

Derek Morgan has been in love with the resident genius as long as he's known him. When Spencer enters a relationship with a mystery man, Derek is unhappy. He is even more unhappy when he meets this man. Spencer starts acting different and Derek knows something is wrong and he has a feeling its connected to the man Reid is dating.

17. A fic that embodies something you value in life

The utter and total love and devotion in this fic just punches me right in the gut every time I reread it

A Little Fall of Rain by jack_hunter - 4.3k, 2ch, Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Spencer Reid Whump, Autistic Spencer Reid, Major Character Injury, Secret Relationship, Team as Family, Dad Rossi

Morgan crept up behind the doctor and snatched the headphones off of his head, earning a yelp of a protest as he slipped them over his own ears. “Les Mis?” Morgan asked with a quizzical look, “didn’t peg you as the musical type, Pretty Boy.” Spencer snatched the headphones back. “I’ve always loved the theatre and I went to see Les Misérables with-... a friend last Friday.”

18. A favourite AU

The Curious Case of Dr. Reid by severaance - 37k, 10ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Transgender Character, Fluff, Trans Spencer Reid, Light Angst, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Smut, Insecurity, Happy Ending (Warning for Homophobic & Transphobic Slurs)

"And your names for the order, please?" The barista asked, eyes flickering expectantly between the two before her. "Spencer," she answered, although she was not talking to the barista. "I'm Spencer." The man before her had the same idea. "Derek."

19. A fic you stayed up too late to finish reading

I stayed up one night and read pretty much all the marvel fics this author has written, but this was the last one that I simply could not resist. The next day wasn't pretty :/

The more you say, the less I know by forthenightisdarkandfullofterror - 13.9k, 3ch, Gen/Irondad, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Temporary Amnesia, Protective Pepper Potts, Not Endgame Compliant, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Blood and Violence, Hurt Peter Parker, Whump

Tony wakes up from snapping with amnesia and for the life of him can't remember the kid hanging around, claiming to be 'just an intern'. Feelings get hurt.

20. A fic that made you feel seen

heavy in my bones by hopeless_hope - 4.4k, 1ch, Gen/Irondad, Chronic Pain, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Whump, Father-Son Relationship, Dad Tony, Worried Tony Stark, Angst, Chronic Illness, 5+1 Things

Five times Peter lied to someone about his chronic pain, and one time he told the truth and got the help he needed.

21. A fic you love without knowing the source material

(I mean this is literally all marvel fics but I'll rec this one because I loved it so much)

the locker room by searchingforstars - 15.5k, 3ch, Gen/Irondad, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, Arguing, Miscommunication, Crying, Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rape Recovery

Peter's falling apart and he doesn't know how things will ever go back to normal again after Ryder.

22. A fic you've gushed about IRL

Genuinely, this fic is better than most published fiction I've read...

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - 220k, 37ch, Gen/Irondad, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Physical Abuse, Alternate Universe, Hurt Peter Parker, Foster Care, Identity Reveal, Slow Build, Disordered Eating, Homelessness

Ben and May divorced before Peter’s parents died, so when Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves. Simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help. Peter isn’t about to turn down an opportunity to fight alongside Tony Freaking Stark, but he also isn’t going to let his hero know that his recruit is a fifteen-year-old homeless dropout. So they strike a deal. Peter will help Tony. In return, the mask stays on. And that’s when things get complicated.

23. A fic you still remember many years later

The Transport Series by ancientreader - 135k, 2 works, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Backstory, Canon Drug Use, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Physical Disability, AU, Important Character Death, First Time, Developing Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Humour, Fluff

How to become a consulting detective. // Jim's lessons are hard to unlearn.

24. A fic with a line or two that you've memorised by heart

"He has held up buildings and nuclear bombs and whole entire countries on his back. Peter’s body is the heaviest thing he’s ever held."

when my body won't hold me anymore (where will I go) by @madasthesea - 4.4k, 2ch, Gen/Irondad, Temporary Character Death, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt Peter Parker, Crying, Forehead Kisses, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, Hugs, Platonic Cuddling

But he knows. He knows. He can feel it. Peter’s dead. Peter Parker watches as Tony carefully arranges his limbs on a cot. “Mr. Stark,” he tries for the dozenth time. No one hears him.

25. Free Space

And to round it off, we have to celebrate the fic that really and truly welcomed me into the CM fanfic world...

Chanel by @4x24 - 24k, 7ch, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Getting Together, Spencer Wears Makeup, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Typical VIolence, Humour, Fluffy Ending, Pining, Smut Heavy

Penelope mentions offhandedly one night that she thinks Spencer might look good in makeup. Spencer takes the suggestion to heart. Derek likes the new look - and Spencer - more than he probably should. (Season 4)

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nanamins-kitten · 3 years

Text

First kiss

note: I've been thinking about this for daaaaaaaaaays and I finally procrastinated studying to do it

no warning, just soft core Nanami lover

Being dragged to church in itself sucked. Being dragged to church for multiple hours sucked even more. Being dragged to church for multiple hours at night sucked dick and balls.

At least the service was over, after like 2 hours of keeping yourself occupied with watching your candle burn and the wax travel down until there was no more string to keep the light alive, and the church was surrounded by nature, lots of trees and a whole row of blossoming magnolia trees.

But it was still after midnight. And it was slightly chilly.

And it started raining.

You grumpled. You had no umbrella and no hood on your white overcoat and stopping somewhere would just take more time to get home. Swearing inside your head, you continued your walk along the magnolia trees.

'Excuse me...'

Suddenly no water was hitting your head anymore. Looking up, and towards the voice that came behind you, a umbrella was now shielding you from the falling water, held by a young guy with blonde hair and bangs falling into one side of his face. You slightly compared it to those of the emo guys that were all over quotev and wattpad covers when you were still active on there, but it was suiting him and his slightly tired, yet defined, face. He seemed to be wearing some sort of uniform, a school uniform.

'You, um, seemed not prepared for the weather.' he said once you two locked eyes.

'Yeah, I made the mistake to not check the weather forecast' you laughed nervously, a little shy at talking with a stranger and slightly intimidated by him. He was tall, very tall, and he was really pretty, and very close to you, sitting under the same umbrella. But he seemed a little shy, or stand off-ish, unsure in his movements, like an awkward teenager. That comforted you.

He looked away for a second, seemingly thinking, pondering something, before looking ahead the magnolia trees again. 'There is a bit of a walk till the gate. Let me walk you there.'

'Oh, thank you! You shouldn't have, but thank you.' Starting to walk on the road again, at a comfortable pace, you continued to look at him and smiled genuinely. 'You're really nice to do that.'

That seemed to make the boy blush a bit, making you smile more, keeping a giggle inside. He was really cute, wasn't he?

'I think that you also look very nice.'

Now it was your turn to blush. It was nice to be complimented by someone you were attracted to.

'Thank you.'

He hummed and the two of you continued to walk quietly. It was actually nice now that you were covered. The smell of rain and spring flowers in the air, the soft nightlights and no busy noise around felt actually close to a date, a perfect date. Step by step, you observed the boy had slowly gotten closer and closer to you, enough that he was in your personal space now, not uncomfortably so, but just enough like someone that you are close to. His hand with the umbrella was between the two of you, his upper arm touching yours. You liked the closeness and tried to swiftly bump your shoulder into his (which was pretty hard, since he was so tall and you could only touch his arm with your shoulder) and it was nice. It felt warmer, even if it had actually gotten slightly windy, but the silence in his presence was actually comforting, and he didn't mind when you lowly hummed a tune.

Finally, the gate was reached.

You turn towards the boy, smiling softly. The rain is much gentler now, but the wind started picking up. 'Thank you again for being so nice.' The gate was right there, a few steps ahead. But you felt the need to do something. So you stepped on your toes and leaned to peck his right cheek, on the spot that wasn't covered by his hair. It was closer to the corner of his mouth than you had planned, which made you blush and bite your lip nervously when you pulled back and were to continue to walk away.

Until he caught your hand.

His face was adorned by a rosy pink and his face was scrunched in some kind of confusion. Was it because you kissed you him? Was it because he didn't know how to react?

Stepping again closer to him, so his arm dropped, but his hand still in yours, you looked him in the eye and waited for him to make the next move. To see what idea is in his mind, what is he planning.

He locked his eyes with yours. He looked determined, a little intimidating, but there was no feeling of fear around you, he didn't want to hurt you. So you didn't move. His head leaned closer to yours and his hand, the one that one second ago was grabbing your hand, reached for your cheek, his knuckles caressing blushed skin. When your noses touched each other, he stopped in his tracks, unsure if to continue or not, if you changed your mind or not. You could feel his anxiety cascading out of him.

So you moved your head forward, your noses rubbing onto his this time, as consent to go ahead. It was a soft peck on the lips, just as gentle as the kiss you left on his cheek. His lips were slightly chapped and felt salty, like he just ate something very recent, but it melted your knees from how gentle it was when he cupped your face with the one hand.

You felt a sudden weight on you, looming, and you opened your eyes in shock to see him stumbling over you.

The wind had picked up suddenly and powerful and stole the umbrella away, exposing the two of you to the rain again. You broke apart to take the image of the umbrella flying away at big speed in, but then your vision went black as a piece of cloth went over your face and a yelp escaped your lips. Turning back to the boy, you understood he took his uniform jacket off and put it over your head to protect you from the rain, while he was completely exposed to the water droplets carried aggressively by the wind. His face was flushed more and more, and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

'I don't want you to get wet.'

You weren't sure why that sentence hit you in the guts as hard as it did. Was it the gentle way he was holding the jacket so he could still see your face? Or maybe it was the way he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world and was afraid of accidentally bruising you?

Maybe it was all of it that made you smile cutely, cup his face with both hands and tug him down, where you kissed him lovingly, like he was the love of your life. He was surprised, shocked, but his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you there.

You felt something soft under your hands, but it was not his face, it was softer and lighter, easily to grab and squeeze.

You woke up, eyes slowly fluttering to the morning sun. There were no more rain, no more night, no more church, magnolias, and the boy disappeared completely. Just you naked under the duvet.

Two arms squeezed your waist and a pair of lips left a kiss on your cheek, and then the face all those limbs belonged to nuzzled against yours. "Did you have a good sleep, darling?"

He didn't disappear.

He just grew up.

"Kento," you whined in your sleepy voice, turning in his arms to face him, "I had such a beautiful dream. And you were there too?"

His eyes were still closed, but he hummed as a sign that he was listening. "Is that so?"

"Yes, but actually it wasn't you... it were you when you were still a student, like I saw in the pictures when Gojo showed me."

Nanami groaned. "Please don't mention him first thing in the morning, kitten."

You giggled a bit. "Sorry, sweetheart. Will not happen again." You kissed his nose in apology. "And I was a student too, I think, and we met one silent, rainy night and you walked me with an umbrella and then we kissed."

He squeezed you closer to his chest at your words, kissing your forehead. "I like your dream, kitten."

"Me too." A dreamy sigh left your lips as your fingers were leaving circular patterns on his shoulder. "You know, if that would have been reality, you would have been my first kiss."

"Was I a good first kiss?"

Looking up to him, his eyes were still closed. You continued with your skin patterns, pointedly ignoring his question.

Immediately, his eyes opened and he lowered his head to look at you. You continued with your silly little task, trying not to smile when he moved to ask you again. "I believe I asked you something, kitten."

Damn him and his sexy morning voice, even deeper than usual, and his strong arms grabbing your naked skin so expertly.

"I mean..." you knew teasing Nanami had its limits, but it was way too fun sometimes. Like right now. "It was as good as a kiss as a dream kiss could be. You were really cute and shy then, all blushy and hesitant." Finally, you left a giggle out, remembering how cute he was, you wanted to squeeze him to your chest.

The Nanami you had with you then and there, however, was nowhere near the shy awkward teenager from you dream. He easily flipped you on your back, hands softly pinned on each side of your head, the duvet uncovering your body as he loomed over you.

Going for your right ear, he trailed kisses down to your neck, biting the skin near the shoulder. You moaned and bit your lip, embarrassed by the sound, even after so much time of dating Nanami.

"Aren't you the shy one now?" the whisper in your ear sent shivers down your spine, and warmth shooting through the whole body.

"Kento..." you started, intertwining you fingers with his while he held you down, staring you down.

"What is it, kitten?"

Your eyes travelled to his lips and stayed there for a few seconds, not saying anything.

"I need words, kitten."

Locking eyes with him again, you whispered "Kiss me like it's the first and last time, please."

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #nanami kento #nanami #jjk nanami #jjk nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader #nanami kento fic #nanami kento x you #jjk nanami x reader #Mine.#Mine #Mine forever.🧿🧸#🧿🧸

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innuendostudios · 3 years

Text

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.

#film noir #neo-noir #criterion channel

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ch1giri · 4 years

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What would the Blue lock boys wear

Characters: Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, Chigiri Hyoma, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro, Reo Mikage, Niko Ikki, Rin Itoshi, Hiori Yo, Kenyu Yukimiya

Note: I don't know why this took me so long? Like bad shitty boards were made, tears were shed. But I finally did it and I hope you will like it!

Isagi Yoichi

• Okay I feel like he doesn't care about fashion. He would most likely wear any graphic tee and some jeans.

• When it gets cold he prefers to wear oversized sweaters, he just feels super comfortable in them

• He likes to wear muted colors, especially blue although I think that dark olive green would suit him so good

• And yes, he will let you steal his clothes because he thinks you look way better in them

• He is way more into sneakers, like I said he doesn't know that much about fashion. But he doesn't mess around when it comes to sneakers. Since his taste is so basic. Isagi really appreciates when you buy him some clothes because he really likes your taste.

Bachira Meguru

• Bachira's mother sews his clothes, she started doing it when he was young and just didn't stop

• He loves wearing baggy pants, you know those jeans that look like you took a bunch of different jean fabric and just sew everything together to make one pair of jeans? Yeah, those look so good on him

• Color block tees look great on him, he can play with colors so well because he doesn't care that much about his clothing, if his mother is happy so is he.

• If you like to sew he would definitely ask you to make him something. And when you do he wouldn't want to take it off. Also, please, please make him a bucket hat or a froggy hat, it would look so cute on him

Chigir Hyoma

• Chigiri's sister helped him develop his fashion sense. His outfits look effortlessly good, but that just comes with his confidence.

• He likes wearing turtlenecks and long coats, he sticks to warm colors and mixes them with black checkered pants would look good on him too.

• Chigiri trusts your judgment and lets you pick out some stuff for him, and if you want he can return the favor

• Hear me out folks wouldn't Chigiru look stunning with rings? Like just imagine he probably has the prettiest hands and when he puts on his rings? Game over

Kunigami Rensuke

• This one is a given, but it needs to be said. Kunigami would wear athletic clothing. And you can't complain because it looks so good on him. He prefers Adidas over Nike or any other sports brand for that matter

• You could always ask to pick out an outfit for him and he would humor your request

• But since we know Kunigami likes to play fair, you have to let him choose an outfit for you. There is no reason to doubt him! Kunigami has an older sister so that must mean he will do a good job! Right?

• Well kinda, he tried his best but he mixed two patterns that DO NOT go well together, you still wear it though because you love him.

Nagi Seishiro

• Would look effortlessly good in anything pt.2 expect he actually doesn't put in any effort, like at all. Nagi just shoves his hands in his closet and what comes out is his outfit for the day.

• But they always manage to look good? Probably because everything in his closet is either white, black or grey.

• Although he does have this one baby blue tee that you bought him and that's the only piece of clothing he genuinely likes or tries to make an actual outfit out of. He can be soft like that

• When you ask him if something looks good on you he would always say: "You could wear a trash bag and I would still think you are the most beautiful person ever, legit."

Reo Mikage

• Ever since he was a child he was taught that clothes make a man. It was super important that people know he comes from a well of family

• He never grew out of that habit, Reo always looks sharp and overdressed. Standing next to him makes you feel super awkward sometimes

• But not to worry, he makes sure that your closet is full of fancy clothing in case you to go out to some overpriced restaurant

• I feel like he owns a lot of suits, he is really trying to broaden his horizons by wearing streetwear. And when I say streetwear I mean Supreme or something along those lines.

Niko Ikki

• E boy alert! No but really, he used to dress like this way before it became a thing. He likes layering his shirts, and letting his socks be seen a bit

• Buy him happy socks and you can watch him internally struggle on what to do. Like he loves you and wants to wear them, but Jesus, why did they have to be bright yellow that's gonna destroy his whole look.

• In the end he will wear them just not that often

• Niko has a lot of chains! He hooks them to his jeans and sometimes he wears them around his neck. You can always take him shopping with you and trust his amazing eyes to help you pick out the perfect items

Rin Itoshi

• Exclusively wears black and white. Acts like any other color is poisonous, the white he has in his outfits is just in the details

• Like Chigiri, Rin looks amazing in checkered pants, and his closet is full of turtlenecks, black office shirts and polo shirts.

• He enjoys wearing long coats. This dude always looks like a model and you feel like one next to him. Rin always wears a watch that you bought him for one of his birthdays, he sees it as a good luck charm although he would never tell you that.

• Buy his something red, please! It can be something with just red details, so he can get used to some color, but red would look absolutely amazing on him!

Hiori Yo

• Hiori has a collection of overalls and baggy sweaters. He dresses like those soft boys you see on Pinterest.

• I feel like yellow and purple suit him really well, he doesn't wear that much black and leans more towards softer colors.

• However, that doesn't mean he wouldn't look breathtaking in something that is viewed more as masculine like a suit.

• You guys are the perfect couple! If you have a darker aesthetic, you two are the perfect picture of opposites attract. If you happen to have the same soft aesthetic as him, you guys would be the cutest couple ever like you could easily become internet famous.

Kenyu Yukimiya

• You can't convince me that he doesn't dress like a kpop idol. He was stopped multiple times by some random teenagers asking him what group was he in.

• And you can't hide the little ping of jealousy everytime that happens. Like you know your boyfriend is attractive. So can they stop asking him to shake their hand

• One girl asked you to take a picture of her and Kenyu, and you just had to do it with a smile, the minute you gave her the phone back tho you kissed Kenyu in front of her. Don't worry he thought it was cute

• Kenyu loves it when you wear his sweaters, he showers you in compliments all the time. But when you happen to wear his sweater the compliments double

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mellometal · 3 years

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Is it time to tear ANOTHER Dhar Mann video to shreds? YOU BET.

I've been sitting on this one for a bit because I wanted to make sure I talk about this tactfully. The subject of parents abandoning their disabled children is a very touchy one.

Parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled is way too common. Like, I understand that not everyone has the resources to care for a disabled child (which is why you reach out for help, and why people like me, who work with disabled people, exist), but it doesn't mean you just walk out of their life. There are exceptions, like if you truly didn't want children or something like that, but just flat-out walking out of your kid's life BECAUSE they're disabled is fucked up.

I know someone personally whose biological mother abandoned her when she was born. Why? Because she's disabled. Physically, and mentally, to a point. I work with this woman on a daily basis. I don't really know WHY exactly her biological mother abandoned her, but I do know that her being disabled was part of it. It's sad. It doesn't affect her, thankfully. I'm happy that she's got her biological dad, her brother, and another maternal figure in her life, at least.

ANYWAYS. Before we get to the topic at hand, I need to put an obligatory trigger warning, like I do with EVERY Dhar Mann post:

This post will be talking about parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled, treating disabilities like they're tragedies (in this case, we're talking about autism...again), divorce, and some SPICY ableist bullshit from an allistic (nonautistic) PIECE OF SHIT.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. This isn't worth putting yourself in a bad state mentally. I would never ask for any of you to put yourselves in that position all for a post. Put your mental health and well-being first. Consume media that sparks joy for you.

As far as my response goes, it's definitely more calm than normal. Funny....since this video is about autism spectrum disorder again. (Third time's the charm, huh, Dhar Mann? NOT.)

LET'S FUCKING GET IT.

The video starts off with these two parents (Gwen and Allen) in a psychologist's office. The psychologist tells the parents that their son (Chance) is autistic, and she tries to explain what autism is to the parents, but Allen cuts her off. Why? Because he teaches at a prestigious university, so he AUTOMATICALLY knows what autism is from that fact alone.

Um, excuse me? Just because you're a teacher at a prestigious university, it doesn't mean you're an expert in everything. It doesn't make you an expert in ASD or anything like that. Unless you SPECIALIZE in that area. Even then, shut the fuck up. The people who know about being autistic are AUTISTIC PEOPLE THEMSELVES! SHOCKER.

Hey, Dhar Mann! QUIT WITH THE VIDEOS ABOUT AUTISTIC LITTLE WHITE BOYS AND YOUNG WHITE AUTISTIC CISHET MEN! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF IT. It's annoying, ignorant, and it feels like you're doing this on purpose at this point to piss people off. If you're so uninformed about autism in women and girls, FUCKING ASK AUTISTIC WOMEN AND GIRLS! DO BETTER RESEARCH THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE AUTISM SPEAKS. The Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN) are great organizations to go to for any kind of research on ASD in women and girls. STOP GOING OFF OF THE BRAINS OF AUTISTIC WHITE BOYS AND AUTISTIC WHITE MEN.

I don't feel I need to go too deep into the fact that autistic women, autistic girls, autistic nonbinary people, autistic BIPOC, autistic AAPI, autistic LGBT people, autistic teenagers, and autistic adults exist. Y'all already know.

Gwen asks the psychologist if that means Chance isn't healthy. (I understand not knowing about autism, but don't treat it like it's a terminal illness. Please.) The psychologist tells her that Chance is fine, but he just learns differently and might need more support compared to his peers.

Yeah, autism can affect how you learn about certain things (limited and repetitive patterns), but there are other disabilities that can affect learning as well. Like how dyslexia can affect your ability to read, dyspraxia can affect your ability to do math, and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) can affect your ability to focus or on impulse control. Autism affects how your brain is developed, it affects you socially, behaviorally, and how you communicate.

Allen is upset, says that he can't have a son "with a learning disability" (ASD is a neurological disability, not necessarily a learning disability), and treats Chance like he's stupid for being autistic. Gwen tells her husband that autism doesn't make you any less intelligent, WHICH IS SO FUCKING TRUE. ABSOLUTE FACTS. I was totally with her until she began that little monologue with "Just because a person HAS autism". SAY "JUST BECAUSE A PERSON'S AUTISTIC" INSTEAD! IT'S NOT HARD. PERSON FIRST LANGUAGE ISN'T WHAT EVERY DISABLED PERSON PREFERS. Allen says that "they could have another kid" and "put Chance up for adoption". Gwen obviously wasn't down with that. Allen gives his wife an ultimatum that it's either HIM or their son Chance. Gwen says that she can't choose between the two, but she will stand by her autistic son. Allen gets up and leaves the office, saying he wants a divorce.

Years pass by, Gwen is single and taking care of her autistic son Chance, and Allen has a new life with a ✨perfect son✨ (Samuel). He never mentions the son HE abandoned (Chance). He's completely forgotten about Gwen and Chance. (YOU OWE SO MUCH CHILD SUPPORT, ALLEN.)

Hey, Allen, how much do you wanna bet that your ✨perfect son✨ Samuel is autistic too?

There's the SATs, they're announcing a winner, and guess who it is? IT'S OBVIOUSLY CHANCE, OF COURSE. He's got the highest score in the country, with Samuel in second place. Allen is PISSED.

Chance gives a speech about how his mom really helped him, he struggled with autism, how Allen LITERALLY ABANDONED HIM, and THE CROWD GOES FUCKING WILD. Samuel, instead of being a sore loser, APPLAUDS FOR CHANCE. Stay humble, Sam.

My thoughts on the video? If you cannot tell by my tone throughout this post, IT WAS DOG SHIT. This video was insensitive to the true reality of parents abandoning their disabled children just because they're disabled. What do I expect from Dhar Mann at this point?

Here's my response to his video below. Don't worry, I will fully type out my response soon for anyone who cannot read the screenshots easily. It's a lot easier for me to do that on the desktop site than it is for me to do it on my phone.

For anyone who can’t read my response, I’m typing it out for you. Like I said, it’s easier for me to type it out on the desktop site than it is for me to type it out on my phone. It’s a real royal pain in the ass. But because I’m trying to make my posts easier to read for people, I’m doing this anyway. /lighthearted

First, second, and third screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):

Hey, listen, I appreciate the message you’re trying to go for, but can you please stop putting autistic people into a box? Can you stop treating being autistic like it’s a tragedy? Not every single autistic person is a little white boy in elementary school who’s considered “wild and unruly” or “super quiet and makes no friends”, nor are they a young white cishet man who’s a super genius or is how Chris Chan was before she came out as trans. (For anyone who doesn’t know about Chris Chan, there are many documentaries people have made on YouTube, and I highly recommend Geno Samuel’s docuseries, if you’re really interested in learning about Chris Chan.)

Autistic women, girls, nonbinary people, BIPOC, APPI, LGBT people, teenagers, and adults all exist too.

It’s very apparent now that you get your resources from Autism $peaks, a hate group that spends the vast majority of their money on funding eugenics instead of helping autistic people like they claim, claims that only little white boys and young white cishet men are autistic and ignores all other autistic people who don’t fit that description, have no autistic people on their leader board or on any board for that matter, have members who have actually fantasized about k1lling their autistic children, treat autism like it’s a tragedy or a disease someone can catch (completely false), act like autism should be cured (there is no cure, and ABA therapy is a total shit show in itself), and treats autistic people like they’re broken and need to be fixed. Also, not every autistic person is a Super Genius(tm). That’s so demeaning to autistic people who aren’t seen as intelligent in any way. I’m autistic and seen as smart; however, there are subjects I’m stronger in than others.

If you can’t handle the possibility of having autistic children, or just disabled children in general, DON’T HAVE CHILDREN. If you can’t handle working with or alongside disabled people, including autistic people, maybe find a different profession. Even if you do that, you’ll never get away from disabled people. Disabled people aren’t a disease. We’re human beings just like neurotypical and able-bodied people.

Fourth and fifth screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):

I would highly suggest getting resources from reputable organizations for ASD, such as the Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN). Talk to any autistic person who isn’t a little white boy or a young white cishet man.

Instead of using the puzzle piece, which is a symbol that many autistic people, myself included, are offended by (because of Autism $peaks and other organizations before them using it, plus it symbolizes that only autistic children exist and that we’re “missing a piece” like we’re broken), use the rainbow infinity sign (for all neurodivergent people) or the red and gold infinity sign (just for autistic people). Instead of “lighting it up blue”, light it up red or gold. Do both if you want.

I’m actually really sick and tired of seeing just autistic little white boys and young autistic white cishet men being represented in the media, and y’all manage to fuck that up too.

Before anyone mentions Sia’s movie “Music”, that’s also very poor representation of autistic girls. Besides, the actress who played the autistic girl isn’t even autistic. She MOCKED autistic people. I know she’s a kid, but that’s still super fucked up. I hope she’s able to turn that around.

If anyone would like to discuss this topic with me or ask any questions, feel free to. I’ll answer as best as I can. Thank you and have a good night.

Before I get attacked for mentioning Chris Chan in my response, I bring up Chris Chan because allistic people think that every autistic person is like her (especially before she came out as trans). That person is part of why I wasn't open about being autistic or talking about my diagnosis until this year. I didn't want to be grouped up with Chris Chan because I do have very similar interests to her, I've been seen as cringey for having said interests, and just the way Chris treated autistic people who were formerly diagnosed with A$p3rg3r$ $yndr0m3 (like I was) really made me feel even more alienated.

Also, S1a supports A$ (Autism $p3aks). She's not a very good person to support. Some of her music is good, but her as a person....no. Her movie "Music" was gross, from what I've read about it and seen pictures of.

If you've read this far, thank you so much!

#mello speaks #dhar mann #dhar mann talk #dhar mann will live to regret his decision to make these fucked up cringe videos #dhar mann will live to regret his decision uwu #dhar mann is a piece of human garbage #please stop supporting dhar mann #autism isn't a tragedy #we need better representation for autistic people who aren't little white boys or young white cishet men #dhar mann is a cringe ass nae nae baby #tw abandonment #tw ableism #cw sia mention #cw chris chan mention #tw dhar mann

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marsbutterfly · 4 years

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Letters to You

Summary: A gentle knock on your door forces you to change your focus from the book that now rests in your hands to the silhouette that enters your room.

"Hello Sir!" you quickly salute. He raises his hand, allowing you to rest. He doesn't waste any time before breaking the news to you.

"Y/N, I'm sorry to inform you but you will not be a part of our next operation. We'll be leaving tomorrow at dawn. I expect you to focus on your healing process in the meantime."

The shock you feel in that moment freezes you up and your brain quickly goes blank for a few seconds while you try to think of a response.

NOTE: This is a continuation of my previous work: The Scientist's Gamble. It also works just fine on its own! There will be another story based on these and it will end my "trilogy" hahaha! Enjoy!

Previous Chapter! | Next Chapter!

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

"But Commander Erwin, please!!" your voice sounding desperate, truth is you don't want to be left behind, you want to know what's going on in his mind, but since the last expedition didn't end so well for you, your superiors have decided it would be for the best if you stay behind this time.

"Y/N, this decision is final. I'm sorry." He says before walking towards the door, you can see a hint of pity in his eyes but you are painfully aware that no amount of begging would change his mind.

You let out an audible sigh, you know he has a point. Your hands travel down your body gently, a gasp escaping your lips softly as your fingertips brush against your bruised ribs."Then what am I supposed to do?" You look out the window to see your friends waving at you before they enter the building, the smile on their faces slowly fades as they watch Commander Erwin make his way out of the hospital wing, the serious expression on his face never means anything good.

Before you can even fully comprehend the news you just received, the group of nine teenagers enters your room, most of them smiling warmly at you, except Ymir who has her arms crossed over her chest while she stares at Christa.

"Hey Y/N, how are you feeling today?" You turn your head to face the tall, black-haired boy. As you look into his eyes, his cheeks grow a gentle shade of red.

"I'm alright Bert, thank you for asking." You smile weakly before looking down at your hands. They shake slightly, not fully recovered from the trauma your body received not too long ago.

"We saw Commander Erwin leaving, was he talking to you?" Connie asks, trying to fill the silence in the room. You can hear Ymir's elbow hitting his bones as she whispers something along the lines "shut up!" You smile at his confused features.

"So you know how they are sending all of the 104 Cadets away for a little bit?"

"Yeah, do you know anything about that?" Sasha asks before pulling a couple of apples out of her bag. You can almost see her thought process as she quietly offers you one of them, to which you just deny, bringing her great joy.

"No more than you all do, all I know is that I was supposed to be on guard duty," you look around checking all of their faces, trying your best not to sound as upset as you are, "but because of my injuries I have to stay behind."

"What? But you are almost fully healed!" Eren says with indignation in his voice, his green eyes filled with a mix of rage and sadness. "There's gotta be something we can..."

As the small, blonde-haired boy raises his hand, he quickly stops talking. Armin places a hand on his chin, trying to think of what could be said in a situation like this.

"If they want you to stay here Y/N, then maybe it means it's not as serious as we think it is!" He smiles, relief clearly taking over his body.

"huh, I guess I haven't thought about it that way. You might be right!" Finally, you allow yourself to relax as your back touches the soft pillow. If they didn't need you to be there, then Armin must be right.

Before you can chat anymore, a figure dressed in white comes through the door, a gentle smile on her face as she announces visiting hours are over and unless they are family, they must leave. The teenagers quickly nod their heads before turning at you, their voices overlapping one another as they walk towards the exit. You can barely understand them but you know they all wish you a speedy recovery.

A giggle escapes your lips before you pick up your book, getting ready to read it once again.

As the clock strikes at 11 pm, you realize Hanji is not coming today. Usually, you spend the days by yourself, reading or working on reports, but she always makes a point of coming by at the end of the day to check on you and relax by your side.

You're too absorbed in your thoughts to realize the quiet knock on the window, that is until a small rock passes through the little crack and lands on your arm. Shaking your head in confusion, you carefully stand up to check what had just happened.

You're now even more confused once you realize the person trying to get your attention was not Hanji, but Moblit.

"What are you doing here?" You try to whisper but loud enough so he could hear you.

"I have a message from Section Commander for you!"

You stick your arm outside the window as you point to the hidden path Hanji has made from all the nights she had spent coming into your room, the cold air hitting your warm skin bringing a chill down your body.

Trying your best not to laugh at his struggle, you take the little box he is holding and helps him bring his body inside.

"How can she do that so easily?" The brown-haired man asks, trying to catch his breath. The laughter escapes your body before you can even respond. You think about the first time Hanji has ever invaded your hospital room.

The knocks startle you a bit, especially because they come from the locked window. You move your covers gently as you try to stand up. The pain in your ribs and legs is almost enough to force you to go back to bed, but your curiosity gets the best of you.

As you unlock the glass, Hanji's head pops inside.

"Hi, Y/N!"

"Hanji, what the hell? You scared the crap out of me!" You place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating faster and faster.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I just... I worked all day and ended up missing visitation hours, but I still wanted to see you!" She smiles brightly at you, extending her hand. You help the mad scientist come inside before looking deep into her eyes.

"How did you get up here?"

"I climbed the side of the building!" she blurts out, putting her hands on her hips, you can see in her eyes how she is proud of yourself. You shake your head, Of course she did.

A smile appears on your face as you pull her in for a kiss. Your hands gently touching her soft skin as you bring your lips closer to hers. The gentle breeze entering the room makes the warmth of her body even more noticeable. As you sadly separate your faces, she pulls you in for a long and careful hug.

"I missed you today." Her voice is barely louder than a whisper. A small giggle leaves your body, not to make fun of her but because the feeling of having her in your arms is enough to relax your body from all the pain and worries you've been feeling lately.

"I missed you more."

Once you leave Hanji's embrace, you want nothing more but to look at her for a few seconds and as you do, her cheeks begin to change into a shade of dark red. She quickly looks away, trying her best to divert your attention.

"I have so much to tell you about today!!" She says as she grabs your hand, pulling you onto the bed. You let out a simple quiet laughter before following her, hearing her talk has always been one of your favorite things.

As you extend your hand, offering Moblit a place to sit, he tries his best to catch his breath. It takes him a few tries but he's finally able to put himself together and tell you why he's here.

"She feels awful that she couldn't come to see you today! She's been studying a small piece of the wall, so before we leave tomorrow I offered to come and check on you and she gave me something that I'm supposed to place it in your hands and nowhere else!" He quickly grabs a small key from his pocket, which brought a confused look to your face. He hands it to you gently, almost as if it was made of glass.

"Section Commander Hanji has given me this key every time she ventures outside the walls. Since you're not coming this time, she has asked me to give it to you instead."

You smile at him, but still wasn't enough to hide your confusion. You then change your focus to the small brown box that now rests by your book, the brown-haired man follows your eyes and let's out a small Oh.

"You see, the night before every expedition, Section Commander makes sure to write you a letter, in case she doesn't return." He takes a quick break before realizing what a horrible time he decided to stop. "Not that she thinks she won't come back!!! She just wants you to have something to remind you of her"

You laugh at his nervous reaction before placing a hand on his shoulder, making sure he doesn't feel like you are making fun of him.

"It's ok. I'll start reading them as soon as you leave! Thank you, Moblit!" You flash him a bright smile which he gladly responds with one of his own.

As soon as he climbs back down, you run towards the bedside table. The small key in your hands slides inside the small box with ease. As soon as you open it, the dozens of pieces of paper jump out and so does the smell of Hanji's perfume. A smile appearing on your face as you feel the texture of her handwriting against the pages.

Every letter, she uses a different nickname she has for you, describing how she's feeling about the next adventure or how much she wants to spend time with you once you're both back inside the walls. You can see how much time and effort she put into these and it makes your heart skip a beat.

You don't realize the tears running down your face until they hit the paper in your hands. As you wipe them away, you realize they are not tears of sadness but actually, this is the only way your body found to express everything you are feeling as you read.

Your focus goes from the papers in your hands to the clock, now striking 2 am. A soft gasp leaves your body as you realize how long you've been reading these letters, but even though it's late you can't seem to put them down.

The next letter you read is about Annie Leonhardt. On the paper, there is classified information about tomorrow's mission. They know two other cadets came from the same region as her, so now the Survey Corps need to confirm the theory that Bertholdt and Reiner are also titan shifters. You can't believe it, or rather you don't want to believe it. Bert is always quiet but he's the sweetest teenager among them all and Reiner is one of your closest friends.

Before you can give it another thought, your body is lulled into a slumber, tired from the hours and hours of reading.

The sunset peaks from behind the curtains, disturbing your peaceful sleep. You take a look at the clock, 17:09. Shit, I overslept! You think to yourself, reading Hanji's letters to you definitely took a toll on your body, you're just not used to going to sleep so late. By now, the cadets have gathered around, the veterans making sure they are unarmed and being kept away from civilians.

You notice a small note by your bedside table, a soft smile forming on your lips as you notice your name writing in Hanji's handwriting. You carefully grab the paper.

"Y/N, we are on our way to bring the recruits back, we gathered new information about the royal family. A small, blonde girl named Christa is the true ruler of the walls and right now she's deep into the front lines. We must go after her."

You take a short break, your mind spins around as the smile on your lips immediately fades away, you try to comprehend what you just read. "Christa? Queen? But... How is that possible?" You continue to read the message.

"I will explain once we return, but we need your help. I need your help, Y/N! I know it's too much to ask, but please if you can, come to Utgard Castle, I'll be waiting for you. Love, Your Hanji. "

You can't fully understand everything, too much new information has been thrown at you at once, but without missing a second, you get out of your hospital bed. "If Hanji needs me, then I'll be there."

"The nurses will never allow me to leave willingly!" You think to yourself. "I'll have to climb down the window."

It takes a few minutes, but once you touch the floor, you realize Moblit was right, "How can she do this so easily?" a gentle giggle escapes your lips before you focus once more on what you are doing.

You sprint towards your chambers, changing into the first uniform you can see. You check your gas and your blades, "everything seems to be in order." As you get settled on your horse, a very bad feeling takes place in your stomach. You can't understand what, but something doesn't feel right. Sprinting as fast as you can, you make your way towards the empty castle, hoping everything is ok.

"Hanji, I'll be there soon, I promise!"

While you ride, you think about your girlfriend's letters.

"Y/N, you looked so beautiful today. While sitting outside underneath the apple tree, a book in your hand and the sun ever so gently hitting your hair. Right there, I fell in love with you all over again. But if we're being honest, I fall in love with you every day."

"My dear, I swear to you, I have never seen a more beautiful titan! Blue eyes, blonde hair. Oh Y/N, according to the notes we found by its body, it could speak! I'm so disappointed in Levi for killing it, it would've been such an amazing specimen!"

"Y/N, no matter what happens to me, never forget one simple thing: I love you."

The cold wind hits your face as your eyes adjust to the darkness. You ride as fast as you can, trying to catch them on time. Your brain processes the information given to you by Hanji's note but a few times you have to stop yourself from daydreaming about her love-filled letters. The moonlight should be enough to give you an idea of where you are going but also protect you from the titans, or so you thought.

No matter the amount of research you've done in your life, with Hanji or by yourself, nothing could have ever prepared you for the sight that greeted you.

"What in the world is going on here?"

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