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uswntxfootball · 4 years

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wonderland (kristie mewis x uswnt!reader)

all the memories and suppressed feelings flood back when she gets called up to the national team again.

word count: 2624 ish

rated D for dumb idiots. also F for flustered reader. and A for a little angsty.

——

it was tuesday morning when you had a near death experience.

jordan thinks that you’re being overdramatic but you don’t listen to her anyways.

on your off day of training the team decided to go out to have a nice breakfast together at a cafe.

there was the usual banter, disgusting couple moments (you constantly made gagging noises at them), and general stupidity.

after a bit the conversation dulled a little, but spiked again when jordan said:

“hey doesn’t the uswnt roster drop today?”

oh crap you forgot about that.

“oh crap yes it does.”

you were pretty sure you were going to make it again.

you’ve been very constant with your playing, scoring goals nationally and at the wsl alike.

still you couldn’t help the nerves that crept their way up your skin, and you handed your phone to jordan to have her read the list .

“read the list of midfielders aloud for me would you?”

the forward accepted it without hesitation, this being a usual exchange between the two of you.

jordan scanned the page a few times before smiling:

“i am proud to present the midfielders for the 2020 netherlands camp-“

“oh stop it just get on with it.”

“well i was before you rudely interrupted me-“

“alright whatever well keep going then.”

“julie ertz.”

“ditto.”

“lindsey horan.”

“also a given.”

“rose lavelle.”

“obviously.”

“catarina macario.”

“i’m not surprised.”

“sam mewis.”

“uh huh”

“and yours truly, y/n y/ln.”

the table cheered a little and you blushed, taking a bite of your avocado toast to hide your smile.

“oh and kristie mewis.”

and then you inhaled sharply, choking on your bite of food.

“who?” you managed to get out through a fit of coughing.

your inquiry was met with an array of exclamations.

“do you not know who kristie mewis is?”

“sam mewis’s sister?”

“won the challenge cup with dash?”

“dated rachel daly?”

“how do you not know who she is?!”

“you’re american for god’s sake!”

you ignored them all and instead said to jordan:

“can you hand me the water?”

jordan furrowed her eyebrows and handed you a glass of water as you coughed away.

you shot her a thankful glance before it was broken again by your nonstop coughing.

daan turned and slapped you a few times on the back which helped slightly.

for the rest of the breakfast jordan noticed you were much quieter, resorting to staring off into space instead of filling the silences with bad jokes.

after breakfast she caught up with you.

“alright spill.”

you shot her a look of confusion.

“spill about what?”

“you and kristie.”

“there’s nothing to spill.”

“that’s a lie and you know that.”

“i- hey would you look at the time i gotta go!”

you glanced at your wrist quickly before running off.

jordan shook her head before yelling out:

“you don’t even have a watch on!”

steph watched the two of you and shook her head.

you and kristie were bickering about something across the field, too caught up in your own world to pay attention to the fact that training had ended.

steph and kristie were both boston college grads, and the two had been close friends before signing together.

kristie had taking a particular liking to you, and within the first week of training you found yourself included in everything the they did.

the three of you played for the boston breakers, sharing an apartment, a car, and consequently all your personal spaces as well.

and so it was only fitting that the three of you bickered.

a lot.

you and kristie more than anyone.

“that is the worst show in existence!”

“no it is not the cinematography is fantastic it’s-“

“no the acting is so bad!”

“no it’s not i-“

“you just have bad show choices.”

you gasped in offense.

“take it back.”

kristie grinned and stuck her tongue out at you.

“never.”

“well then you better run.”

kristie’s eyes widened when you lunged at her.

she took off but you, being faster tackled her to the ground.

your fingers dug into her sides and through a fit of laughter she relented.

“okay okay! i take it back! you have good taste in shows!”

you grinned triumphantly and stopped, your hands on both sides of kristie’s head as you looked down at her.

kristie’s cheeks were flushed and her chest heaved slightly as she looked up at you.

you were briefly aware of the pounding in your ears and butterflies in your stomach.

your eyes locked onto hers and unbeknownst to you you were leaning in but kristie was very, very aware of it, and just as she was about to lean in as well, steph’s yell broke the two of you out of your trance.

“hey training is over idiots!”

you shoot up so fast that your vision goes a little bit black.

you stumble a little bit before finding your balance.

“shut up mccaffrey you almost gave me a heart attack.”

you look down to see kristie still on the ground before you stick a hand out to help her up.

“what were the two of you even fighting about?”

you gave kristie a pointed look before saying:

“this idiot said my show choice was bad.”

steph thought about it for a minute.

“well i mean she isn’t wrong.”

kristie lets out an exclamation after hearing that.

“see?! i told you!”

“hey! you took it back!”

“doesn’t mean it isn’t true!”

“i’m being bullied.”

“oh shut up y/n.”

adjusting your mask and sunglasses, you made your way out of the plane with a few of your teammates.

you had just landed in the netherlands, and coming from england you had a shorter flight compared to most of the team, who would be landing in an hour or so.

you were brimming with excitement at meeting up with your us teammates, as you hadn’t seen them since the beginning of the pandemic.

even then you didn’t get to see them often as you played in the wsl.

you had signed with arsenal in 2017, after the league folded and the boston breakers disbanded, as you were done with the american soccer system.

england had welcomed you with open arms, and you soon made a home there, flying back every so often for national team camps and games.

so when the pandemic hit and a handful of your teammates signed for international clubs, you were ecstatic.

even if they signed for opposing teams.

at least none of them signed for chelsea.

christen gave you a little tap when she saw your suitcases, and you gave her a thankful look before going to grab them.

when everyone was settled, you made your way to the bus and set off on your way to the hotel.

“sam how excited are you that kristie is coming?”

your head snapped up at the mention of the midfielder’s name, an action sam noticed but didn’t comment on.

“i’m so happy! she’s happy too on being called back and can’t wait to see her old teammates again!”

your cheeks flushed a little when sam’s eyes met yours at the end of her statement, and you suddenly found the ground very interesting.

it was a little later when you arrived at the hotel and rose kicked your foot that you looked up.

making your way into the hotel was an interesting experience.

on one hand you were beyond excited that you were back with the national team, yet on the other hand the prospect of seeing kristie made you want to throw up a little bit.

it’s not that you didn’t want to see her.

you were nervous because you liked? like? her.

of course this you realized way after you had left the us.

or rather, just as you were about to leave.

you stood, heart racing as you stood in front of kristie’s door.

your hand hovered above it for a little bit as you tried to swallow and breathe normally.

you had already told steph and the rest of your friends but why was it so much harder to tell kristie?

were you afraid of what she was going to say?

that you were going to leave the country, leave the nwsl, and leave her?

you take a deep breath to calm down and you gave it a little knock.

the door flies open in less than a second.

“y/n! what are you doing here?”

kristie’s cheery demeanor rattled you a little bit.

upon seeing your face she frowned.

“what’s wrong?”

“i-“

your mouth was so dry and it trembled a little.

you could feel your heartbeat in your ears, tears threatening to spill.

kristie’s looking at you with a face full of worry now, and you couldn’t get the words out.

“i-“

you close your mouth again and take a second to look at her.

noting the ways her eyes sparkled and the way her hair was falling out from her bun in little curls over her shoulders.

and then it comes out in a hushed whisper when you least expect it.

“i’m moving to england.”

kristie looks at you too stunned to speak.

she whispers:

“when are you leaving?”

you look down at the ground.

“tomorrow.”

you keep your eyes trained on the ground, too scared to look up at her, knowing that when you look at her the tears you’ve fought so hard to hold back are going to spill.

the silence that falls between you is too heavy. too thick. too constricting.

you find yourself lunging forward towards the midfielder, wrapping her in a hug as the tears spill.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner.”

kristie doesn’t say anything.

she just hugs you harder.

you break away when you have to, but as soon as you turn kristie grabs your wrist.

you turn to ask her what’s wrong but her lips are on yours in an instant.

before you can even process what happened she pulls back.

“you’re going to kill it in england.”

and then she walks into the apartment and shuts the door.

ironically you walk into a door when you see her.

to be fair it wasn’t your fault.

it was hers.

well maybe it was yours.

your head had been all over the place in the past few days, ever since the prospect of seeing her was brought up.

when you had left five years ago, you couldn’t help but replay that kiss over and over in your head.

you couldn’t believe all the signs you had missed.

so yeah.

you were nervous.

and so with music blasting in your headphones, you were prepping for a run, and subsequently not paying any attention to where you were walking and she opens the door right in your face.

you stumble a little bit backwards, before falling down.

you haven’t even looked up, instead sitting on the ground rubbing your forehead and cursing.

it’s when a pair of sneakers appears in front of you that you look up.

and you actually choke on air.

before you stood the woman you had been thinking about, sporting an amused smile and quirked eyebrow.

she says something you don’t hear and it’s only when she leans down and takes your headphones off that you notice them.

your cheeks flush and you mutter an embarrassed “oops” which elicited a chuckle from the midfielder in front of you.

she extends her hand out to you and you take it, sparks shooting up your arm at the contact.

she pulls you into a hug and the two of you quickly fall into conversation.

here up close, you can spot all the changes and similarities of the girl you left 5 years ago.

the five years had been great to her, she was now even more breathtaking than before, no longer the awkward kid but a gorgeous woman.

she almost looks like a completely different person.

almost.

but you notice the same ways her eyes sparkle when she talks, the way the corners of her mouth tug up slowly when she smiles, and the way she tucks loose strands of hair behind her ear and you know this is the same girl you were so smitten with 5 years ago.

“you done checking me out now?”

your gaze snaps back up to her face and blush, a little surprised by her statement.

kristie gives you a teasing smile before saying:

“come on i’m just joking.”

she even has the audacity to wink at you.

and this behavior continues.

for the whole training camp she flirts with you.

you’re a little taken aback by the confidence in the girl.

with the constant winking and flirting and fleeting touches you’re pretty sure she’s trying to kill you.

“y/n. y/n!”

sonnett’s voice snaps your gaze back onto her face.

“sorry what?”

“you were so far into la la land i almost had to get ryan gosling to come get you.”

you shoot her an annoyed look.

“oh shut up no.”

your eyes drift back to the other side of the field, to where kristie was.

sonnett rests her chin on your shoulder and says:

“so who are we checking out today?”

you turn to her and scowl.

“no one.”

“you’re no fun.”

“no.”

“come on you love me.”

“no.”

and of course she scores.

of course.

no matter how hyped the game was.

or how difficult the netherlands defense was.

of course she scores.

she had been on for less than two minutes when she did so too.

you’re so excited you almost trip over your own feet.

she runs to you and you catch her as she jumps, and soon the rest of the team comes to envelop the two of you in a hug.

“i’m so fucking proud of you,” you whisper, and when everyone has relaxed a little, she kisses you.

it’s firmer and more insistent than the one from five years ago.

it’s almost like she knows what she wants and what you want.

you pull away after a few seconds, but only because you have a game to win still.

“come on kris let’s kick some ass.”

you let go of her and the two of you make your way back to your positions.

a few of your arsenal teammate shoot you teasing glances, and you blush when you meet them.

and when the whistle blows thirty minutes later, they make sure to tease you about it after the game.

you see kristie walking towards you and you grin, but before she gets there sam steps in front of you.

you look up at her, and when she doesn’t speak you fill the silence.

“i promise not to hurt her.”

sam quirks an eyebrow and leans in to whisper:

“you better not. or i will tear off your arm and beat you with i-“

“sam!”

kristie gives her sister a little slap in the arm before pulling you away with her.

“hey.”

“um h-hey,” you stammer, rubbing your neck nervously.

“you’re so cute.”

you blush a bit, your heart racing.

kristie catches your hand when it comes down and intertwines her fingers with yours.

“go on a date with me?”

you blush even harder and nod enthusiastically, not trusting your voice at this point.

she gives you a look before leaning in and connecting her lips with yours.

“hey please don’t bang my sister on the field!”

#kristie mewis #kristie mewis x reader #kristie mewis imagine #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines

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dafukdidiwatch · 3 years

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The Ballad of Buster Scruggs (2018)

Not a musical no matter what the first 15 minutes tell you.

This was a pretty interesting movie. It is told as a series of vignettes who’s common theme was that they were all set in the old west. Well that and death. There’s 6 in total and each one of them has a different but interesting vibe to them. There were a lot of quiet silent moments in the movie, hardly any background music to it unless it was a beginning or end of a segment. But it definitely allowed for the scene to just breathe and revel in the moment. It also had some beautifully done cinematography showing the landscape and vastness that is the old west. It’s hard to generalize it because like I said before, each story has it’s own vibe to it that is different from one another.

With that, I’m just going to give my basic feelings of each of the stories shown. So yeah, Spoilers.

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs: Wow this guy. I deadass thought the whole movie was a musical because the first story was this guy singing constantly. And when I looked it up on youtube all that popped up was the songs. My sister put it right with saying he is a violent Bard in a D&D campaign. I was getting the vibe if Mr. Rogers had a dark underbelly of being psychotic. He is smarmy, oddly charismatic, and the more I watched him the more I hope someone killed him. And they did, which made me very happy. The song numbers were fun, and damn the deaths were brutal. But a very good start.

Near Algodones: I call this story “Pan Man” because holy crap the greatest character ever was in this movie. This nutcase banker who, deadass told the bank robber he shot a man’s legs off and kept him in the bank vault for 3 weeks, comes running out covered in pans screaming “PAN SHOT” every time a bullet gets deflected. Truly the highlight of the story, which is sad that he doesn’t really show up for the rest of the story. Which follows a bank robber going from one horrible situation to the next from trying to rob a bank. Which, if the guy was telling a whimsical story of how he kept a man locked legless in a vault, maybe you shouldn’t rob him to begin with. I also found out where the “First Time?” picture set came from. Good to know.

Meal Ticket: This one is probably my least favorite just because it was so sad. This wandering troupe of an old man and the limbless storyteller traveling around trying to make a buck via entertaining stories. It was very quiet, hardly anyone talked outside the stories being told. It made me feel...pity I think. Mostly because I didn’t know if the old man actually cared for the kid as a person, or just used him as a means to an end to make a living. It doesn’t help that the kid never speaks outside of the act, so I don’t know whether that’s an artistic choice or the kid doesn’t really know what he’s saying. Audience interpretation I guess. Then when we get to the chicken, and yeah all doubts are thrown out the window over how the old man saw the kid. It’s sad and tragic. Not every story has to be a happy one, but not a lot of happy endings so far.

All Gold Canyon: This is probably my second favorite. All it is is just a lone man panning for gold in a beautiful valley. The landscape is gorgeous. You see this old man, coughing from illness or old age you don’t know, just meticulously panning and trying to find that vein of gold. Facinating really. This is definitely the most silent out of all the films because it is him by himself, but it really sucks you in just watching if he will be successful or not. And then when the shadow passes over him...well....even though I said spoilers, I don’t want to give too much away.

The Gal Who Got Rattled: This is pretty much a 20 minute romance novel. Sister and brother travels out west, but sister finds herself in dire straits after her brother dies. She turns to the man heading the wagon train for help and they slowly but surely fall in love. Well...I don’t know if it is love exactly. More like, a gentle comfort. Where they can confide in each other for a pleasant life and simple pleasures. I was watching this with my sister and we were both trying to sus out why we felt “off” throughout. Like, if the wagon boy had killed the brother to steal the money, trying to sus out the criminal. Lol we watch way too many crime shows. The end is a tragedy, we can’t all have nice things. Which if we are keeping count there is really only 1 happy end in this movie.

The Mortal Remains: I actually really like this story. It’s just 5 people sitting in a carriage just talking about things. Life. I could listen to the Trapper guy for hours he has very interesting stories. And seeing how they just bounce off of the purity woman, the french guy, and the two polite yet terrifying bounty hunters. It also had this more terrifying feeling as the sun sets and that the carriage driver doesn’t stop. This is probably my favorite.

Overall: This was a very enjoyable movie. There was some funny moments, heartfelt moments, sad moments, quiet moments, action moments, basically emotions all over the place. It was a fun watch but since their vignettes you can probably watch them separately in chunks instead of as a whole movie. I would recommend it, it’s a cool take to see on the 1800s West.

#dafukblog #Dafuking Films #week 47 movie #ballad of buster scruggs

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eideticmemory · 4 years

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EVER SINCE NEW YORK II | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 2! Read Part 1 here.

Soundtrack:

Maps - Maroon 5.

Me & Ur Ghost - Blackbear.

Keep You Close - Frenship.

Word Count: 3,341.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, substance use, a bit of angst.

Fall, Sophomore Year.

Tisch School of the Arts,

New York University.

New York City.

“Okay, you know what?” You scoffed, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I give up. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Claire laughed from behind you, “You alright over there?”

“No,” you grumbled. You pressed down on the black frame, using all your might to make the command strip stick to the wall. Yet, when you stepped back, it would pop off of the surface, and your ballet poster was lopsided. It’d been a vicious cycle for 10 minutes. “This goddamn command strip won’t stick. What the fuck?”

“Okay, grumpy, step away from the poster,” Claire ordered, grabbing onto your shoulders and escorting you to the center of the room. “The room looks great, [y/n], why are you so stressed?”

“I am not stressed. I am frustrated, and those damn command strips aren’t cheap. I’m pissed.”

“Okay, staples queen, tell you what,” she sighed. “I will go buy you a pack of command strips and personally mount the poster myself, okay?”

You looked up at Claire, giving her a soft smile. “Did I win the roommate lottery or what?”

“Yeah, but better not say stuff like that too much. People are gonna start thinking we’re a different type of roommates.”

You laughed, and shook your head at her.

“[y/n], what’s up?” Claire asked. “You’ve been moody as fuck ever since we moved back in for the semester. Classes haven’t even started yet and you’re moping around. What’s going on?”

Well, Claire, you thought. I’m glad you asked. I’m glad you brought it up, because I’ve been dying to talk about it for a while. You see, I fucked my mortal enemy, and it was so good that I did it a second time. And no, I’m not talking about my cinematography professor, I’m talking about Matthew. Gubler. I fucked Matthew Gubler. Yes, I know. Hell has frozen over. Because I hated him. I hate him. I think he’s awful. Especially since he thinks it’s okay to fuck someone, ignore their existence, fuck them again, ignore their existence, and then leave them with a vague ass note? 505. 505! I’ve looked up every possible meaning of 505 that there is. The song, urban dictionary, numerology. And I can’t figure the shit out. And it doesn’t help that Matthew didn’t say a word to me over summer break. I’m just lost and confused and I know you would understand and you would know what to do.

But it’s Matthew.

And I can’t tell anyone. Especially you.

“Last semester was a royal disaster,” you sighed. “I just don’t wanna overwhelm myself again. Y’know with class, and shows, and parties. I wanna do right this semester, but it’s a little stressful. So, I’m a little stressed.”

Claire looked at you for a long time, eyebrows lowered and her eyes scanning your face. She had a gut feeling that you were lying, but didn’t wanna be a bitch. So she bit her tongue.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” she smiled.

Classes started that following Monday. Your first lecture was at 10 o’clock. And you woke up at 10:15. Having showered the night before, you brushed your teeth, put on your outfit and fixed your hair all in ten minutes and hiked it across campus in 4 minutes. You rushed up to the classroom door, and entered the lecture very calmly. People were scattered about in the auditorium, some towards the sides, a lot front and center. But only one person sitting in the very back row.

Matthew.

Too occupied with explaining yourself to your professor, you didn’t notice Matthew until a few minutes after entering. You refused to make eye contact with him, nervously staring at your feet as you walked over to him. And took a seat at his side.

“Hey.”

Those were the only words spoken for an hour and fifteen minutes. However, within 10 minutes of seeing you again, Matthew began to rub your thigh. His fingers grazed the top of your leg, slowly but surely making their way to your inner thigh. You held your breath, staring up at the professor the whole time and pretending to take notes.

When Matthew’s fingers pressed against your clit, you almost gasped. But you kept your mouth shut, stifling the sound. He smirked to himself, only glancing at you when you were too shaken up to notice. You propped up the screen of your laptop, hiding your face behind it so you could let out quiet moans. You were so sensitive, and very glad that you wore a skirt to class.

Matthew’s fingers slid your panties to the side and made skin to skin contact with your clit, applying pressure as he rubbed you. You exhaled for a long time, swear words wanting to fly out of your mouth instead. The professor’s words drowned out a long time ago, and at this point you didn’t care. You just needed to come.

Matthew remembered the way you liked to be touched, he had to. Because he was able to bring you to the edge so quickly, it was insane. You clenched your thighs around his wrist to signal your nearing release, and he grinned.

You rested your head on the keyboard of your laptop, hiding from everyone as you came. Your jaw dropped, and you had to stop yourself from groaning too loudly. Matthew removed his hand from under your skirt. He sucked on the tips of his fingers, just to get the taste of you on his tongue. Then, with only 2 minutes left in class, he packed up his stuff and walked out.

You should’ve dropped the class. At the very least, sat somewhere else. But you didn’t. You stayed in that course. With Matthew. In the back row. And wore skirts every other day for a month. Some days he would repeat the action, and some days he wouldn’t. It was like he could tell how desperate you were each time. And if you were really desperate, he simply didn’t touch you. It sucked, but it kept you on your toes.

He missed class one day, and to cope, you had a dream about him that night. You imagined him using his mouth on you, in an empty lecture hall, bending you over the desk, making you come. When you woke up, you were in a cold sweat. You couldn’t believe you were having thoughts like this about Matthew Gubler. But you were.

You hopped out of bed, put on your slippers, and left the room to go to the vending machines. Holding a soda and some candy, you walked back to your dorm room silently. Alerted by the sound of footsteps, you turned your head down the hall to see Claire walking out of someone’s room. She noticed you and rushed up to you with a big smile.

“Hey!” She beamed. “What are you doing up?”

“Oh, uh, I couldn’t sleep. Where you been?”

She sighed happily, “I’ve been doing adult things, [y/n], I cannot lie.” She wrapped her arm around your shoulder as you both walked to your room. “I’m in love, kid. It’s crazy.”

“You’re in love? With who?”

“Ah, that will soon be revealed, my dear [y/n].”

That weekend, you two invited everyone to come hang out at your dorm. Someone was able to swipe some liquor, and it was a party. A handful of people, getting a little tipsy, music in the background. Claire insisted Matthew be invited, but you weren’t expecting him to show up. But of course, he did. Because he’s a nuisance.

He laid down on Claire’s bed and she sat beside him, the two of them quickly joining the conversation at hand. You tried not to look like a kicked puppy, tried not to pout, to sulk, to watch. But inch by inch, second by second, Claire moved closer to Matthew, until by the end of the night, her head was on his chest.

That Monday, you sat in the front of the class.

And every class after that for the next month.

Missing your daily release, you became cranky and nasty and moody. You didn’t mean to, but that’s how it happened. To help you get over the nagging feeling, you went out one Saturday night. A group of friends dragged you along to a dorm party in the next building over. You used it as an excuse to dress up, ignore your homework and get some fresh air. In a tight purple dress, you walked into the booming dorm. It was packed, smelled like booze and filled with heat.

A cup of vodka in your hand, it wasn’t until about two hours in that you realized you didn’t want to party. You sat on the couch the whole time, fiddling with your hands and the hem of your dress. You’d drank an entire solo cup of alcohol by then, and you were starting to get tired. Your friends had gotten lost a long time ago, and you knew it was fruitless to look for them. So, you picked yourself up and started to head for the exit.

“[y/n]!”

You turned around to see a guy walking towards you. Jonathan. “Hey, John, what the hell is going on?” You asked, noticing him supporting another guy on his shoulder. His friend was a drunken, sloppy mess, and could barely stand.

“Our boy Steve here had a little too much to drink,” John replied. “I’m taking him back to his room. You going back to your place?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I am.”

“Okay, do you mind helping me with him? Please? I’ll give you a dollar.”

You laughed, shook your head and put your arm around Steve’s waist. “Ooh, a dollar! Sounds exciting.”

It was cold, and you shivered on the way back to your dorm building. Steve only lived down the hall from you, so helping wasn’t too far out of the way for you. John used Steve’s key to let the three of you into Steve’s suite, guiding both of you to Steve’s room.

You both worked together to lay Steve down on his mattress. You covered him with his blanket.

“You’re a lifesaver,” John told you. “We both are actually.”

“Maybe we should start a business. We escort drunk people home for a small fee of $100.”

He laughed, “I’m in as long as you dress like that every time.”

You blushed, and ducked your head down to hide it.

“What’s going on in here?” A voice called to you two.

You looked up at the threshold to see Matthew standing there, looking sleepy, disheveled, shirtless, and beautiful.

“Hey, Gube,” John greeted. “[y/n] and I were just dropping Steve off. Kid couldn’t hold his liquor.”

Matthew scoffed, “You could’ve left him there. Let him get dicks drawn on his face.”

“Well, aren’t you full of love?” John laughed. “No, seriously, I’ve gotta text Lindsey and let her know I’m staying in for tonight.” He padded at his pocket, followed by a loud groan, “Fuck, I left my phone at the party. Fuck me.”

“That’s a higher power trying to tell you that you need to stay out longer,” Matthew said.

John smirked at him, “You’re right. Wonderful insight, Gubler.”

John walked out of the door, heading for the exit, and you followed him, avoiding eye contact with Matthew. As the two of you approached the front door, you froze. John exited the suite, not noticing that he was leaving you behind. And you would’ve moved if you had the power.

Hanging on the door of the suite was the room number: 505.

Your breath caught in your throat. 505. The room number. The room number of the suite you saw Claire leaving that day. 505.

“What took you so long?” Matthew asked, standing behind you.

You released your breath, goosebumps crawling on your skin as you felt him get closer to you. Your heart raced, your body trembled. You had a physical response to being near this boy. It was intense.

“I’m not doing this, Matthew,” you whispered.

“Doing what? We’re just talking.”

You turned around to face him, suddenly very angry, “No! You know what I’m talking about! You know what I’m talking about! And it’s gone on for long enough, Matthew. I’m out!” You kept your voice quiet, but still aggressive. You turned to exit the dorm, but he grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into him.

“Listen, Princess Peach,” he said.

“Fuck you—“

“Listen. I don’t know what your deal is, but I do know that I miss you—“

“You’re full of shit. You just wanna fuck.”

“That’s what I said. I miss you. I mean, for such a short person, your pussy packs a punch.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Face it,” he murmured. “You may hate me, but your pussy doesn’t.”

Your body melted into his at the sound of his voice. The feeling of his hands running down your body, landing on your thigh. “Just admit it. Or tell me to stop.” His fingers trailed under your dress, the tips grazing you through your panties. Your head rolled back at the gentle touch and he took that as an invitation to kiss your neck.

“Cmon, shortcake, tell me to stop,” he mumbled. “Tell me to stop.”

You responded by wrapping your hands around his throat, using all your strength to push him out the living room couch. He chuckled under his breath, stumbling back onto the cushion and pulling you into his lap.

“Oh, you gonna choke me?” He asked, his voice coming out strained. “Okay, princess, you hate me so much? You can’t stand me?” He pushed his pants down to reveal his erection. “Fuck me like it then.”

You crashed your lips onto his and pushed him back onto the couch, reaching down to grab his cock. You pulled your panties to the side and teased him against your core, moaning as his tip rubbed against your clit. You sank down onto his dick, feet pressed into the couch, hands holding his neck.

He stared up at you as you fucked him — fast and careless. Swear words fell off of his lips uncontrollably, his hands pawing at your breast. Your boobs fit perfectly in his palm and he was obsessed. He had to bite down on his bottom lip to stay quiet, grunting into his mouth.

“F-fuck,” he panted. “Wait, wait.”

You leaned in and kissed him roughly, grinding your hips against his. You made sure to stay silent, giving no indication that you were experiencing so much pleasure.

“H-hey — shit, fuck,” he groaned. “Wait.”

Matthew placed his hands on your ass, his eyes closed tight, his body tensing up as you rode him into the wall. “Oh, fuck!” He exclaimed, and lifted you off of his cock. Quickly, just in time for him to release all over his stomach. He panted, he quivered, he mumbled soft, dirty words. Whispered something about you.

As pretty a sight as it was, you refused to sit there and stare. So, you stood up, pulled the hem of your dress down. And this time, you left. Not a word said. Nothing.

Matthew followed you on instagram that night. You didn’t accept the request for a week, and when you did, you didn’t follow him back. He tried to add you on snapchat, but you declined it. You continued to sit far away from him in class, giving him no access. He brought you a drink at a party once and you asked for water instead. When he returned with the water, you had already left.

He had met his match. You dominated him, successfully, fearlessly, and without even trying. He wanted more. But you liked to watch him so squirm, so you didn’t give in.

Christmas break rolled around, and instead of focusing on the actual holiday, you and your friends planned your first spring break vacation. A group of you would head to South Beach for the week, and stay at a relative’s beach house.

You sat on your bed, trying to map out the cost of the trip. “So it’s me, you, the four of them...Claire, are you listening to me?”

“Is this a good Christmas gift for Matthew?”

You turned your head to her quickly, “Huh?”

“This,” she held up the book - The Magic Encyclopedia. “You think Matthew will like it?”

“Claire,” you sighed. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are you doing simping over this boy? Buying him gifts? This isn’t you, Claire.”

“Leave me alone, [y/n], okay? We’re just friends. And he told me he bought me a gift so I got him one. Jeez, do you have to hate him so much?” She pouted, dropping the book into a gift bag.

“Um, actually, yeah I do,” you nodded. “He’s a dick.”

A knock rang at the door, and as Claire hopped up, she pointed her finger at you, “That’s him. Do not pick a fight.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to planning. Matthew stepped into the room, carrying a bag in one hand. He used his other hand to cup Claire’s face and give her a small kiss on the cheek. “Santa Claus is here!” He exclaimed.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” Claire pleaded, reaching for the gift bag.

“Wow, Claire, I’m hurt. You’re so materialistic.” He chuckled.

“Oh, please, Gube,” she scoffed. “Give me my gift.”

“Okay,” he reached into the bag and pulled out a small box, wrapped into festive paper. “I got this for you, Claire,” he handed her the box. “And I even got something for your roommate here.”

You picked your head up, face ridden with confusion. Matthew licked his lips as he held the gift out to you, “I saw it and I couldn’t help myself. Merry Christmas, short stack.”

“Aw, Gube!” Claire squealed. Matthew let her tuck herself under his arm and hug him. “You’re so sweet.”

You stared at the tiny box in your hands, feeling it’s weight. “Thanks...” you whispered.

“Here, open what I got you,” Claired ordered Matthew, stepping over to her bed and grabbing the gift bag. She handed it to him with a wide smile, and giggled as he reached inside.

“Wow!” He cheered, holding the book in his hand. “Holy shit, Claire. This is incredible, thank you!”

“I knew how much you wanted that book so I remembered to get it,” she said. “So, I hope your gift for me is as impressive.”

“It is.”

As the two of them spoke, you opened up your own gift, quietly, hiding it behind your pillow. Claire unwrapped Matthew’s gift, and squealed. “Shut up! Where did you find this film?”

“Amazon!” he replied. “That fancy camera of yours only takes a certain type of film so I wanted you to be stocked.”

You pulled the item out of the box, focused on figuring out what it was. It was cold, metallic, and shone under the light as it was revealed.

“Oh, Gube!” Claire pulled him into a hug. “This is incredible!”

It was an antique. A silver polished miniature ballerina, perched on a pedestal. There was a knob on the side, and when turned, the ballerina twirled. It was precious.

You looked over at Matthew and Claire, watching as they broke out of their hug and looked at each other. “I expect a bunch of pictures when I get back,” he told her, backing out of the room.

“And I expect a professional magician,” she winked. Yuck. Claire turned her head to you after Matthew left, grinning, “What’d he get you?”

You quickly pushed the ballerina back in the box, shaking your head. “Socks. Mismatched socks. Very funny.” You replied.

She giggled, “But hey, a gift! That’s growth!”

“Yeah, whatever,” you grumbled.

“Matthew’s great,” She said. “You’ll get to know him better soon, since he’s coming to the beach with us.”

“He’s what?”

[PART 3.]

#mine #college!matthew #matthew gray gubler/reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg smut #mgg x reader #esny

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

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Enola Holmes: A Not So Elementary Adaptation

It's cliché and a bit unfair to say that the book was better than the film, but I'm afraid that's precisely where I need to start. Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes: The Case of the Missing Marquess is leagues better than Netflix's adaptation of it. They did her work dirty and to say that I'm shocked at the accolades other reviewers are heaping on the film is an understatement. Before I dive into any critiques though, it's worth acknowledging that not every minute of the two hour film was painful to get through. So what worked in Enola Holmes?

The film is carried by the talent of its cast, Millie Bobby Brown being the obvious heavy-hitter. She helps breathe life into a pretty terrible script and it's only a shame her talent is wasted on such a subpar character.

The idea to have Enola continually break the fourth wall, though edging into the realm of Dora the Explorer at times—"Do you have any ideas?"— was nevertheless a fun way to keep the audience looped into her thought process. Young viewers in particular might enjoy it as a way to make them feel like a part of the action and older viewers will note the Fleabag influence.

The cinematography is, perhaps, where most of my praise lies. The rapid cuts between past and present, rewinding as Enola thinks back to some pertinent detail, visualizing the cyphers with close ups on the letter tiles—all of it gave the film an upbeat, entertaining flair that almost made up for how bloated and meandering the plot was.

We got an equally upbeat soundtrack that helped to sell the action.

The overall experience was... fine. In the way a cobbled together, candy-coated, meant to be seen on a Friday night but we watched it Wednesday and then promptly forgot about it film is fine. I doubt Enola Holmes will be winning any awards, but it was a decently entertaining romp and really, does a Netflix film need to be anything more? If Enola was her own thing made entirely by Netflix's hands I wouldn't be writing this review. As it stands though, Enola is both an adaptation and the latest addition to one of the world’s most popular franchises. That's where the film fails: not as a fun diversion to take your mind off Covid-19, but as an adaptation of Springer's work and as a Sherlock Holmes story.

In short, Enola Holmes, though pretty to look at and entertaining in a predictable manner, still fails in five crucial areas:

1. Mycroft is Now a Mustache-Twirling Villain and Sherlock is No Longer Sherlock Holmes

This aspect is the least egregious because admittedly the film didn't pull this version of Mycroft out of thin air. As the head of the household he is indeed Enola's primary antagonist (outside of some kidnappers) and though he insists that he's doing all this for Enola's own good, he does get downright cruel at times:

He rolled his eyes. “Just like her mother,” he declared to the ceiling, and then he fixed upon me a stare so martyred, so condescending, that I froze rigid. In tones of sweetest reason he told me, “Enola, legally I hold complete charge over both your mother and you. I can, if I wish, lock you in your room until you become sensible, or take whatever other measures are necessary in order to achieve that desired result... You will do as I say" (Springer 69).

Mycroft's part is clear. He's the white, rich, powerful, able-bodied man who benefits from society's structure and thus would never think to change it. He does legally have charge over both Enola and Eudoria. He can do whatever he pleases to make them "sensible"... and that right there is the horror of it. Mycroft is a law-abiding man whose antagonism stems from doing precisely what he's allowed to do in a broken world. There are certainly elements of this in the Netflix adaptation, but that antagonism becomes so exaggerated that it's nearly laughable. Enola's governess (appointed by Mycroft) slaps her across the face the moment she speaks up. Mycroft screams at her in a carriage until she's cowering against the window. He takes her and throws her into a boarding school where everything is bleak and all the women dutifully follow instructions like hypnotized dolls. Enola Holmes ensures that we've lost all of Springer's nuance, notably the criticism of otherwise decent people who fall into the trap of doing the "right" (read: expected) thing. Despite her desire for freedom, in the novel Enola quickly realizes that she is not immune to society's standards:

"I thought he was younger.” Much younger, in his curled tresses and storybook suit. Twelve! Why, the boy should be wearing a sturdy woollen jacket and knickers, an Eton collar with a tie, and a decent manly haircut—

Thoughts, I realised, all too similar to those of my brother Sherlock upon meeting me (113-14).

She is precisely like her brothers, judging a boy for not looking and acting enough like a man just as they judged her for not looking and acting enough like a lady. The difference is that Enola has chaffed enough against those expectations to realize when she's falling prey to them, but the sympathetic link to her brothers remains. In the film, however, the conflict is no longer driven by fallible people doing what they think is best. Rather, it's made clear (in no uncertain terms) that these are just objectively bad people. Only villains hit someone like that. Only villains will scream at the top of their lungs until a young girl cries. Only villains roll their eyes at women's rights (a subplot that never existed in the novel). Springer writes Mycroft as a person, Netflix writes him as a cartoon, and the result is the loss of a nuanced message about what it means to enact change in a complicated world.

Which leaves us with Sherlock. Note that in the above passage he is the one who casts harsh judgement on Enola's outfit. Originally Mycroft took an interest in making Enola "sensible" and Sherlock— in true Holmes fashion—straddles a fine line between comfort and insult:

"Mycroft,” Sherlock intervened, “the girl's head, you'll observe, is rather small in proportion to her remarkably tall body. Let her alone. There is no use confusing and upsetting her when you'll find out for yourself soon enough'" (38).

***

"Could mean that she left impulsively and in haste, or it could reflect the innate untidiness of a woman's mind,” interrupted Sherlock. “Of what use is reason when it comes to the dealings of a woman, and very likely one in her dotage?" (43).

A large part of Enola's drive stems from proving to Sherlock, the world, and even herself that a small head does not mean lack of intelligence. His insults, couched in a misguided attempt to sooth, is what makes Sherlock a complex character and his broader sexism is what makes him a flawed character, not Superman in a tweed suit. Yet in the film Mycroft becomes the villain and Sherlock is his good brother foil. Rather than needing to acknowledge that Enola has a knack for deduction by reading the excellent questions she's asked about the case—because why give your characters any development?—he already adores and has complete faith in her, laughing that he too likes to draw caricatures to think. By the tree Sherlock remanences fondly about Enola's childhood where she demonstrated appropriately quirky preferences for a genius, things like not wearing trousers and keeping a pinecone for a pet. They have a clear connection that Mycroft could never understand, one based both in deduction and, it seems, being a halfway decent human being. We are told that Enola has Sherlock's wits, but poor Mycroft lucked out, despite the fact that up until this point the film has done nothing to demonstrate this supposed intelligence. (To say nothing of how canonically Mycroft's intellect rivals his brother's.) Enola falls to her knees and begs for Sherlock's help, saying that "For [Mycroft] I'm a nuisance, to you—" implying that they have a deep bond despite not having seen one another since Enola was a toddler. Indeed, at one point Enola challenges Lestrade to a Sherlock quiz filled with information presumably not found in the newspaper clippings she's saved of him, which begs the question of how she knows her brother so well when she hasn't seen him in a decade and he, in turn, walked right by her with no recognition. Truthfully, Lestrade should know Sherlock better. Through all this the sibling bond is used as a heavy-handed insistence that Enola is Sherlock's protégé, him leaving her with the advice that "Those kinds of mysteries are always the best to unpick” and straight up asking at one point if she’s solved the case. The plot has Enola gearing up to outwit her genius brother, which did not happen in the novel and is precisely why I loved it. Enola isn't out to be a master of deduction in her teens, she's a finder of lost people who uses a similar, but ultimately unique set of skills. She does things Sherlock can't because she is isn't Sherlock. They're not in competition, they're peers, yet the film fails to understand that, using Sherlock's good brother bonding to emphasize Enola's place as his protégé turned superior. He exists, peppered throughout the film, so that she can surpass him in the end.

You know what happens in the novel? Sherlock walks away from her, dismissive, and that's that.

That's also Sherlock Holmes. I won't bore you with complaints about Cavill being too handsome and Claflin being too thin for their respective parts, but I will draw the line at complete character assassination. Part of Sherlock's charm is that he's far more compassionate than he first appears, but that doesn't mean he would, at the drop of a telegram, become a doting older brother to a sister of all things. Despite the absurdity of the Doyle Estate's lawsuit against Netflix for making Sherlock an emotional man who respects women... they're right that this isn't their character. Oh, Sherlock is emotive, but it's in the form of excited exclamations over clues, or the occasional warm word towards Watson—someone he has known and lived with for many years. Sherlock respects women, though it's through those societal expectations. He'll offer them a seat, an ear, a handkerchief if they need one, and always the promise of help, but he then dismisses them with, "The fairer sex is your department, Watson." Springer successfully wrote Sherlock Holmes with a little sister, a man who will bark out a laugh at her caricature but still leave her to Mycroft's whims because he has his own life to tend to. This is a man who insists that the mind of a woman is inscrutable and thus must grapple with his shock at Enola's ability to cover the "salient points" of the case (58). Cavill's Sherlock is no Sherlock at all and though there's nothing wrong with updating a character for a modern audience (see: Elementary), I do question why Netflix strayed so far from Springer's work. The novel is, after all, their blueprint. She already managed the difficult task of writing an in-character Sherlock Holmes who remains approachable to both a modern audience and Enola herself, yet for some reason Netflix tossed that work aside.

2. Enola is "Special,” Not At All Like Other Girls

Allow me to paint you a picture. Enola Holmes is an empathetic, fourteen-year-old girl who, while bright, does not possess an intelligence worthy of note. No one is gasping as she deduces seemingly impossible things from the age of four, or admiring her knowledge of some obscure, appropriately impressive topic. Rather, Enola is a fairly normal girl with an abnormal upbringing, characterized by her patience and willingness to work. Deciphering the many hiding places where her mother stashed cash takes her weeks, requiring that Enola work through the night in secrecy while maintaining appearances during the day. She manages to hatch a plan of escape that demonstrates the thought she's put into it without testing the reader's suspension of disbelief. More than that, she uses the feminine tools at her disposal to give herself an edge: hiding her face behind a widow's veil and storing luggage in the bustle of her dress. Upon achieving freedom, her understanding of another lonely boy leads her to try and help him, resulting in a dangerous kidnapping wherein Enola acts as most fourteen-year-olds would, scared out of her mind with a few moments of bravery born of pure survival instinct. She and Tewksbury escape together, as friends, before Enola sets out on becoming the first scientific perditorian, a finder of lost people.

Sadly, this new Enola shares little resemblance with her novel counterpart. What Netflix seemingly fails to understand is that giving a character flaws makes them relatable and that someone who looks more like us is someone we can connect with. This Enola, simply put, is extraordinary. She's read all the books in the library, knows science, tennis, painting, archery, and a deadly form of Jujitsu (more on that below). In the novel Enola bemoans that she was never particularly good at cyphers and now must improve if she has any hope of reading what her mother left her. In the film she simply knows the answers, near instantaneously. Enola masters her travels, her disguises, and her deductions, all with barely a hitch. Though Enola doesn't have impressive detective skills yet, her memory is apparently photographic, allowing her to look back on a single glance into a room, years ago, and untangle precisely what her mother was planning. It's a BBC Sherlock-esque form of 'deduction' wherein there's no real thought involved, just an innate ability to recall a newspaper across the room with perfect clarity. The one thing Enola can't do well is ride a bike which, considering that in the novel she quite enjoys the activity, feels like a tacked on "flaw" that the film never has to have her grapple with.

More than simply expanding upon her skillset—because let’s be real, it’s not like Sherlock himself doesn’t have an impressive list of accomplishments. Even if Enola’s feelings of inadequacy are part of the point Springer was working to make—the film changes the core of her personality. I cannot stress enough that Enola is a sheltered fourteen-year-old who is devastated by the disappearance of her mother and terrified by the new world she's entered. That fear, uncertainty, and the numerous mistakes that come out of it is what allowed me to connect with Enola and go, "Yeah. I can see myself in her." Meanwhile, this new Enola is overwhelmingly confident, to the point where I felt like I was watching a child's fantasy of a strong woman rather than one who actually demonstrates strength by overcoming challenges. For example, contrast her meeting with Sherlock and Mycroft on the train platform with what we got in the film:

"And to my annoyance, I found myself trembling as I hopped off my bicycle. A strip of lace from my pantalets, confounded flimsy things, caught on the chain, tore loose, and dangled over my left boot.

Trying to tuck it up, I dropped my shawl.

This would not do. Taking a deep breath, leaving my shawl on my bicycle and my bicycle leaning against the station wall, I straightened and approached the two Londoners, not quite succeeding in holding my head high" (31-32).

***

"Well, if they did not desire the pleasure of my conversation, it was a good thing, as I stood mute and stupid... 'I don't know where she's gone,' I said, and to my own surprise—for I had not wept until that moment—I burst into tears" (34).

I'd ask where this frightened, fumbling Enola has gone, but it's clear that she never existed in the script to begin with. The film is chock-full of her being, to be frank, a badass. She gleefully beats up the bad guys in perfect form, no, "I froze, cowering, like a rabbit in a thicket" (164). This Enola always gets the last word in and never falters in her confident demeanor, no, "I wish I could say I swept with cold dignity out of the room, but the truth is, I tripped over my skirt and stumbled up the stairs" (70). Enola is the one, special girl in an entire school who can see how rigid and horrible these social expectations are, straining against them while all her lesser peers roll their eyes. That's how she's characterized: as "special," right from the get-go, and that eliminates any growth she might have experienced over the course of the film. More than that, it feels like a slap in the face to Springer's otherwise likeable, well-rounded character.

3. A Focus on Hollywood Action and Those Strong Female Characters

It never fails to amaze me how often Sherlock Holmes adaptations fail to remember that he is, at his core, an intellectual. Sure, there's the occasional story where Sherlock puts his boxing or singlestick skills to good use, and he did survive his encounter with Moriarty thanks to his own martial arts, but these moments are rarities across the canon. Pick up any Sherlock Holmes story, open to a random page, and you will find him sitting fireside to mule over a case, donning a disguise to observe the suspects, or combing through his many papers to find that one, necessary scrap of information. Sherlock Holmes is about deduction, a series of observations and conclusions based on logic. He's not an action hero. Nor is Enola, yet Netflix seems to be under the impression that no audience can survive a two hour film without something exploding.

I'd like to present a concise list of things that happened in the film that were, in my opinion, unnecessary:

Enola and Tewksbury throw themselves out of a moving train to miraculously land unharmed on the grass below.

Enola uses the science knowledge her mother gave her to ignite a whole room of gunpowder and explosives, resulting in a spectacle that somehow doesn't kill her pursuer.

Enola engages in a long shootout with her attacker, Tewksbury takes a shot straight to the chest, but survives because of a breastplate he only had a few seconds to put on and hide beneath his shirt. Then Enola succeeds in killing Burn Gorman's slimy character.

Enola beats up her attackers many, many times.

This right here is the worst change to her character. Enola is, plainly put, a "strong woman." Literally. She was trained from a young age to kick ass and now that's precisely what she'll do. Gone is the unprepared but brave girl who heads out onto the dangerous London streets in the hope of helping her mother and a young boy. What does this Enola have to fear? There's only one martial arts move she hasn't mastered yet and, don't worry, she gets it by the end of the film. Enola suffers from the Hollywood belief that strong women are defined solely as physically capable women and though there's nothing wrong with that on the surface, the archetype has become so prevalent that any deviation is seen as too weak—too princess-y—to be considered feminist. If you're not kicking ass and taking names then you can only be passive, right? Stuck in a tower somewhere and awaiting your prince. But what about me? I have no ability to flip someone over my shoulder and throw them into a wall. What about pacifists? What about the disabled? By continually claiming that this is what a "strong" woman looks like you eliminate a huge number of women from this pool. The women we are meant to uphold in this film—Enola, her Mother, and her Mother's friend from the teahouse—are all fighters of the physical variety, whereas the bad women like Mrs. Harris and her pupils are too cultured for self-defense. They're too feminine to be feminist. But feminism isn't about your ability to throw a punch. Enola's success now derives from being the most talented and the most violent in the room, rather than the most determined, smart, and empathetic. She threatens people and lunges at them, reminding others that she's perfectly capable of tying up a guy is she so chooses because "I know Jujitsu." Enola possesses a power that is just as fantastical as kissing a frog into a prince. In sixteen short years she has achieved what no real life woman ever will: the ability to go wherever she pleases and do whatever she wants without the threat of violence. Because Enola is the violence. While her attacker is attempting to drown her with somewhat horrific realism, Enola takes the time to wink at the audience before rearing back and bloodying his nose. After all, why would you think she was in any danger? Masters of Jujitsu with an uncanny ability to dodge bullets don't have anything to fear... unlike every woman watching this film.

It's certainly some kind of wish fulfillment, a fantasy to indulge in, but I personally preferred the original Enola who never had any Hollywood skills at her disposal yet still managed to come out on top. That's a character I can see myself in and want to see myself in given that the concept of non-violent strength is continually pushed to the wayside. Not to mention... that's a Sherlock Holmes story. Coming out on top through intellect and bravery alone is the entire point of the genre, so why Netflix felt the need to turn Enola into an action hero is beyond me.

4. Aging Up the Protagonists (and Giving Them an Eye-Rolling Romance)

The choice to age up our heroes is, arguably, the worst decision here. In the original novel Enola has just turned fourteen and Tewksbury is a child, twelve-years-old, though he looks even younger. It's a story for a younger audience staring appropriately young heroes, with the protagonists' status as children crucial to one of the overarching themes of the story: what does it really mean to strike out on your own and when are you ready for it? Adding two years to Enola's age is something I'm perfectly fine with. After all, the difference between fourteen and sixteen isn't that great and Brown herself is sixteen until February of 2021, so why not aim for realism and make her character the same? That's all reasonable and this is, indeed, an adaptation. No need to adhere to every detail of the text. What puzzles me though is why in the world they would take a terrified, sassy, compassionate twelve-year-old and turn him into a bumbling seventeen-year-old instead?

Ah yes. The romance.

In the same way that I fail to understand the assumption that a film needs over-the-top action to be entertaining, I likewise fail to understand the assumption that it needs a romance—and a heterosexual one to boot. There's something incredibly discomforting in watching a film that so loudly proclaim itself as feminist, yet it takes the strong friendship between two children and turns it into an incredibly awkward, hetero True Love story. Remember when Enola loudly proclaims that she doesn't want a husband? The film didn't, because an hour later she's stroking her hand over Tewksbury's while twirling her hair. Which isn't to say that women can't fall in love, or change their minds, just that it's disheartening to see a supposedly feminist film so completely fall into one of the biggest expectations for women, even today. Forget Enola running up to men and paying them for their clothes as an expression of freedom, is anyone going to acknowledge that narratively she’s still stuck living the life the men around her want? Find yourself a husband, Enola. The heavy implication is she did, just with Jujitsu rather than embroidery. Different method, same message, and that’s incredibly frustrating when this didn’t exist in the original story. “It's about freedom!” the film insists. So why didn't you give Enola the freedom to have a platonic adventure?

It's not even a good romance. Rather painful, really. When Tewksbury, after meeting her just once before, passionately says "I don't want to leave you, Enola" because her company is apparently more important than him staying alive, I literally laughed out loud. It's ridiculous and it's ridiculously precisely because it was shoe-horned into a story that didn't need it. More than simply saddling Enola with a bland love interest though, this leads to a number of unfortunate changes in the story's plot, both unnecessary additions and disappointing exclusions. Enola no longer meets Tewksbury after they've both been kidnapped (him for ransom and her for snooping into his case), but rather watches him cut himself out of a carpetbag on the train. I hope I don't have to explain which of these scenarios is more likely and, thus, more satisfying. Meeting Tewksbury on the train means that Enola gets to have a nighttime chat with him about precisely why he ran away. Thus, when she goes to his estate she no longer needs to deduce his hiding spot based on her own desires to have a place of her own, she just needs to recall that a very big branch nearly fell on him and behold, there that branch is. (The fact that the branch is a would-be murder weapon makes its convenient placement all the more eye-rolling.) Rather than involving herself in the case out of empathy for the family, Enola loudly proclaims that she wants nothing to do with Tewksbury and only reluctantly gets involved when it's clear his life is on the line. And that right there is another issue. In the novel there is no murderous plot in an attempt to keep reform bills from passing. Tewksbury is a child who, like Enola, ran away and quickly discovers that life with an overbearing mother isn't so bad when you've experienced London's dangerous streets. That's the emotional blow: Enola has no mother to go home to anymore and must press out onto those streets whether she's ready for it or not.

Perhaps the only redeeming change is giving Tewksbury an interest in flowers instead of ships. Regardless of how overly simplistic the feminist message is, it is a nice touch to give the guy a traditionally feminine hobby while Enola sharpens her knife. The fact that Enola learned that from her mother and Tewksbury learned botany from his father feels like a nudge at a far better film than Enola Holmes managed to be. For every shining moment of insight—the constraints of gendered hobbies, a black working class woman informing Sherlock that he can never understand what it means to lack power—the film gives us twenty minutes worth of frustrating stupidity. Such as how Enola doesn't seem to conceive of escaping from boarding school until Tewksbury appears to rescue her. She then proceeds to get carried around in a basket for a few minutes before going out the window... which she could have done on her own at any point, locked doors or no. But it seems that narrative consistency isn't worth more than Enola (somehow) leaving a caricature of Mrs. Harris and Mycroft behind. The film is clearly trying to promote a "Rah, rah, go, women, go!" message, but fails to understand that having Enola find a way out of the school herself would be more emotionally fulfilling than having her send a generic 'You're mean' message after the two men in her life—Sherlock and Tewksbury—remind her that she can, in fact, take action.

Which brings me to my biggest criticism and what I would argue is the film's greatest flaw. Reviewers and fans alike are hailing Enola Holmes as a feminist masterpiece and yes, to a certain extent it is. Feminist, that is, not a masterpiece. (5) But it's a hollow feminism. A fantasy feminism. A simple, exaggerated feminism that came out of a Feminism 101 PowerPoint. To quote Sherlock, let's review the salient points:

A woman cannot be the star of her own film without having a male love interest, even if this goes against everything the original novel stood for.

A feminist woman cannot also be selfish. Instead she must have a selfless drive to change the world with bombs.

The best kind of women are those who reject femininity as much as they can. They will wear boy's clothes whenever possible and snub their nose at something as useless as embroidery. Any woman who enjoys such skills or desires to become lady-like just hasn't realized the sort of prison she's in yet.

The best women also embody other masculine traits, like being able to take down men twice their size. Passive women will titter behind their hands. Active women will kick you in the balls. If you really want to be a strong woman, learn how to throw a decent punch.

Women are, above all, superior to men.

Yes, yes, I joke about it just as much as the next woman, but seeing it played fairly straight was a bit of an uncomfortable experience, even more-so during a gender revolution where stories like this leave trans, nonbinary, and genderqueer viewers out of the ideological loop. Enola goes on and on about what a "useless boy" Tewksbury is (though of course she must still be attracted to him) and her mother's teachings are filled with lessons about not listening to men. As established, Mycroft—and Lestrade—are the simplistically evil men Enola must circumvent, whereas Sherlock exists for her to gain victory over: "How did your sister get there first?" Enola supposedly has a strength that Tewksbury lacks— he's just "foolish"—and she shouts out such cringe-worthy lines as, "You're a man when I tell you you're a man!"

I get the message, I really do. As a teenager I probably would have loved it, but now I have to ask: aren't we past the image of men-hating feminists? Granted, the film never goes quite that far, but it gets close. We’ve got one woman who is ready to start blowing things up to achieve equality and another who revels in looking down on the men in her life. That’s been the framing for years, that feminists are cruel, dangerous people and Tewksbury making heart-eyes at Enola doesn’t instantly fix the echoes of that. There's a certain amount of justification for both characterizations—we have reached points in history where peaceful protests are no longer enough and Tewksbury is indeed a fool at times—but that nuance is entirely lost among the film's overall message of "Women rule, men drool." It feels like there’s a smart film hidden somewhere between the grandmother murdering to keep the status quo and Enola’s mother bombing for change, that balance existing in Enola herself who does the most for women by protecting Tewkesbury... but Enola Holmes is too busy juggling all the different films it wants to be to really hit on that message. It certainly doesn’t have time to say anything worthwhile about the fight it’s using as a backdrop. Enola gasps that "Mycroft is right. You are dangerous" when she finds her mother's bombs, but does she ever grapple with whether she supports violence on a large scale in the name of creating a better world? Does she work through this sudden revelation that she agrees with Mycroft about something crucial? Of course not. Enola just hugs her mom, asks Sherlock not to go after her, and the film leaves it at that.

The takeaway is less one of empowerment and more, ironically, of restriction. You can fight, but only via bombs and punches. It's okay to be a woman, provided you don't like too many feminine things. You can save the day, so long as there's a man at your side poised to marry you in the future. I felt like I was watching a pre-2000s script where "equality" means embracing the idea that you're "not like other girls" so that men will finally take you seriously. Because then you don't really feel like a woman to them anymore, do you? You're a martial arts loving, trouser-wearing, loud and brilliant individual who just happens to have long hair. You’re unique and, therefore, worthy of attention, unlike all those other girls.

That's some women's experiences, but far from all, and crucially I don't think this is the woman that Springer wrote in her novel.

The Case of the Missing Marquess is a feminist book. It gives us a flawed, brave, intelligent woman who sets out to help people and achieves just that, mostly through her own strength, but also with some help from the young boy she befriends. Her brothers are privileged, misguided men who she nevertheless cares for deeply and her mother finally puts herself first, leaving Enola to go and live with the Romani people. Everyone in Springer's book feels human, the women especially. Enola gets to tremble her way through scary decisions while still remaining brave. Her mother gets to be selfish while still remaining loving. They're far more than just women blessed with extraordinary talents who will take what they want by force. Springer's women? They don't have that Hollywood glamour. They're pretty ordinary, actually, despite the surface quirks. They’re like us and thus they must make use of what tools they have in order to change their own situations as well as the world. The fact that they still succeed feels very feminist to me, far more-so than granting your character the ability to flip a man into the ground and calling it a day.

Know that I watched Enola Holmes with a friend over Netflix Party and the repeated comment from us both was, "I'd rather be watching The Great Mouse Detective." Enola Holmes is by no means a horrible film. It has beauty, comedy, and a whole lot of heart, but it could have been leagues better given its source material and the talent of its cast. It’s a film that tries to do too much without having a firm grasp of its own message and, as a result, becomes a film mostly about missed potential. Which leads me right back to where I began: The book is better. Go read the book.

Images

Enola Holmes

Mycroft Holmes

Sherlock Holmes

Enola and her Mother Doing Archery

Enola and her Mother Fighting

Tewkesbury and Enola

#Sherlock Holmes #Enola Holmes #mymetas

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yeocult · 4 years

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ateez film diary analysis

ok i am currently typing with tears in my eyes but that’s cool!!!! gonna talk about ateez diary film for a moment. btw if you’re here for theories, this might not be for you, my brain is not capable of that critical thinking lmao. although, i will be rambling/analyzing the cinematography and overall admiring the film!! under the cut because this happened to be 1.5k words oops.

man, first of all, 16 minutes?? thank you for the food kq!! i think their concept is super cool. it’s unpredictable, refreshing, and just gives me a lot of high hopes for this comeback. ateez never disappoints, they come back each time stronger and better.

“this is the story where their dimensions are split into eight pieces again.” that kinds hurt me. throughout the film we see clips of them being happy and joyful with each other, but we also see scenes where they’re all alone. they didn’t get separated by losing contacts or whatever, literally dimensions.

phew okay, when the man with the black fedora approaching hongjoong like that was soooo dskjdj ugh i love it when they have a bright light in the back, capturing the silhouette perfectly. sorry i’m such a sucker for those types of shoots!! now hongjoong’s dream. “the world inside a television cannot be reached. the world they live in and the world that i live in is blocked.” yea.. they’re separated from dimensions. isn’t that so heartbreaking?? separated by time and space.

um this might be a huge stretch, plus i’m horrible at science. i’ve read a lot of articles on where, ‘if time stopped would gravity still apply?’ and i thought of this because of the items floating up around hongjoong. without time, gravity, acceleration, speed and force are simply meaningless, so i guess that’s why it’s floating? as if we’re going back in time. there’s a lot of consequences and weird things on going back in time/time travelling (most famously the ‘bootstrap paradox’) because time is not an object and cannot ‘go’ anywhere at all, not forward, not backward, nor can it stop. so i expected some not so happy events to occur.

anyways moving on to seonghwa’s memory. i loved this. “i thought i lacked in many areas and have much to learn.” then we see a bunch of to-do lists and i guess they’re kinda like goals to accomplish or things he wants to learn. the somewhat long shot of him sitting on this table and the camera moving away from him gave me a sense of isolation (i also don’t know why yeo in the smn box is on the tv but it could mean he’s trapped). we also see him walking straight, kinda like following a straightforward path with a lot of control, hence the to-do lists. then he hits stops. now the girl is the total opposite of seonghwa. she’s dancing, moving, and overall carefree i would say. everything seonghwa is lacking. she’s freedom. i don’t have much to say about this scene but i really like how when he was walking one step at a time, it was completely dark. but as soon as it hits stops and sees her, there were lights.

now my favourite, wooyoung’s choice. that transition to seonghwa’s little emo time to wooyoung’s hyped underground music and dancing was the serotonin boost i needed. let’s talk about his ponytail because it made me a whole simp for him. plus he’s so fucking cool?? if i become a wooyoung biased soon, you know why. he talks about stage fright and the scene where people were looking down at the camera was perfect, low camera shots show dominance or superiority. when you have stage fright, you’re worried and insecure about your abilities (at least that’s how i feel) and with people look down at you is almost like they’re judging and aren’t expecting much from you. ateez brings him courage and reassurance, they give him strength. the last scene with the rain and the flickering light so chilling. its almost like the rain washed away his everything.

yeosang’s time giving me slight dark academia vibes and i’m here for it!!! also bird metaphors?? yes please! “limited freedom. like a bird in a cage.” we see yeosang in a room surrounded by other musicians but he isn’t playing his instrument. almost like he doesn’t wanna be there or has no real passion for this field. hence him talking about ‘expanding his dreams’. we get a close shot at his face looking forward to the right, i feel as if he’s daydreaming or reaching out. taking back to say my name, we have yeosang trapped inside that box, almost like the birds with limited freedom. he drops his violin and suddenly the birds (they symbolize peace, transformation, freedom and power) are free, giving us a scene with his friends. he’s free.

san’s resolution might just be my favourite in terms of cinematography. can we just talk about the long amount of time san has the stay put for the timelapse to work?? the scene wins my heart. now we see the classroom in a mess, meaning school was never enjoyable to san. always moving and no friends. the way he’s moving seems like there’s not much he can do in his life. the escalator scenes kinda look like the one in wonderland. time is always moving, the escalator moving, and san runs back up despite it moving in the opposite direction. im not sure where i was going with this but i thought i was kinda cool, how he’s running back up to be with his friends.

next, we have yunho and his brother. in a matter of seconds, all the light in the studio flicker and turns off. this is quite similar to the flicker lights in wooyoung’s last scene. there’s a pattern here with flickering lights and how it means lost and loneliness. we don’t know what 5:07 mean, maybe its completely relevant but knowing kq and their team, almost everything seems intentional. also i saw on twt (not my analysis) but seonghwa’s to-do list includes a task of learning how to drive, then we get yunho getting hit by a car. not sure where i got from this but i thought i would include it.

actor jongho!!!! he’s so good i love him. ok so we get that basketball was his dreams but due to his broken leg, it seems impossible for him to pursue that dream. we him sitting at a distance, admiring the game and the people who are able to play. but when he’s in the court, he’s all alone (might just be because he can’t go in court when other people are playing but just let me be deep for a second oki). the burning basketball means he cannot play again. then the fight scene between him and mingi. i want to talk about the camera work for a second. it’s unstable, harsh and a little unfocused (because it’s handheld) and it makes it seem like another member’s pov, pushing the realism on us. hmm this might be kinda dumb but the loud bang when mingi got pushed was a little unexpected hence every scene with the boys was all very calm and had music in the back, no sounds. idk just a noticed. ohmygod another silhouette scene with beautiful lighting in the back!!!! the camera is moving away from him, moving away shows weakness. i loveee this so much along with the smoke. his dreams are burning up, literally.

last we have mingi’s diary. “earphones in my ears, the world is mine for now.” again, similar to seonghwa in the dark walking, mingi is isolating himself from the world. he’s using music to escape from reality. mingi looks trapped by the way its shot, cutting off his forehead and lips only showcasing his eyes and nose. this could be his facial features are more important than anything else right now. the camera angle is below mingi, again with the dominance and superiority… because he literally kicked someone. but still the same camera angle except this time mingi is looking up at the sky or forward, not looking down. with that, mingi no longer looks intimidating, he seems slightly vulnerable. and i think that’s really powerful how quickly he transitions despite the same angle. so we know mingi uses music as an escape, “i would rather be alone than encounter the world.” then we see yeosang (by his flannel) taking off his earphones. bringing him back to reality with the boys, and everything seems a lot more peaceful. its kinda like, without his friends, he would rather be isolated. now i want to point how the loud bang from jongho’s shot. it’s literally the same shot but the noise isn’t there indicating that mingi has earphones in (i think even when they’re not literally in, he still shuts out noise), shutting off the noise. i think the little details were so well done. we also get a match cut of mingi blinking, back to the darkness. i think it shows how quickly things can be taken away from you.

MAN THE SCENE WHERE THEY ALL GATHER TOWARDS HONGJOONG JAKJDSJKSDJKSD I CANNOT BREATHE IT GAVE ME SO MUCH CHILLS MYGODDOO !!!!!! like that scene in say my name. gotta love the build up of the song then it drops when the members all show up UGH I LOVED THAT SOO MUCH!! “the memories of short happiness. and dreams broken into pieces” brb gonna cry. the hourglass is finished,, what does this mean? ;o also i cant help but to notice the lighting on how one side is dark and the other has light. this could just be for aesthetics but idkkkk just another notice.

hehe sorry this made no sense,,, anyways that’s all i have to say, i’m so excited for their comeback <33

#h.txt #pHEW #haha dont clown me i know nothing about film #also send me your thought?#i would love to talk about cinematography!!#ateez #might add on to this later!!#moon talks

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angelguk · 5 years

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» in your arms tonight - jeongguk scenario

Jeon Jeongguk - BTS

words - 5.2k

genre - college!au, smut, established relationship, domestic!au, drabble

warnings - oral sex (fem and male receiving) / fingering / riding / nipple play / edging + orgasm denial / unprotected sex / switch!jeongguk / dom!reader / gukkie finds out he has a new kink ( or fetish man idk) / this is mostly soft so don’t expect some hardcore bdsm / this was meant to be a drabble but clearly i have no idea what that word means (5k words im really,,,,,,)

soundtracks - beabadoobee, soren & dance with me (please listen to them, these songs sound like what falling in love feels like)

He heard the rush of water from the tap in the bathroom come to a halt, followed by the patter of your bare feet against the tiles as you searched for a towel to wipe your mouth with. Your movements were in time with the gentle patter of rain rushing from the skies above. The sound did something to his heart, a wave of contentment floating through his body as he wiggled in the bed sheets. He almost wanted to get up and join you but the ache in his legs from yesterday’s workout kept him cemented to the soft comforter beneath him. And the pillows smelt like you too – at least like your shampoo. It was peach or something and he couldn’t help but bury his nose into the fabric, eyes fluttering close.

The towel hit his head with a resounding thud.

“Yah! Are you not going to get up and brush your teeth?” You didn’t sound annoyed so Jeongguk didn’t retaliate, still enamoured by the way his bed smelled like you. But he did toss the towel into some corner of his room - he’d find it tomorrow morning.

“Later,” He whined instead, cracking open his eyes to find you standing at the door of his bathroom, one of his white t-shirts bellowing around your minute frame and a miffed frown on your face. It hid the shorts you had underneath but from where he was situated it looked like you were wearing nothing but his shirt. He didn’t expect the jump in his heart when that small realization hit him. “Come here.”

“Do I look like a dog to you?” You retorted, shutting the bathroom door as you moved forward, a small smile on your face. “Ordering me around with your stinky breath. Heathen.”

“Shut up, you know you like it.” He rolled back, pulling down the sheets he’d cocooned around himself so you climb in beside him. You rolled your eyes in response, tossing aside the pizza boxes Jeongguk had dumped on your side of the bed and clambering onto the mattress. The small act had his shirt raising up your bare thighs and oh – oh.

“You removed the shorts?” He asked, acutely aware of how his voice sounded constricted in his throat.

You hummed in response, collapsing beside his figure, the fabric of his shirt bunching around your waist as you did so, fulling exposing the little black underwear you had on. In a second, the sight that had Jeongguk’s heart thrumming against his chest and his blood flowing to places he was too tired to deal with, was gone – covered by the sheets he suddenly abhorred.

“Fuck.”

You tutted, shifting upright so you could grab the laptop perched precariously on his bedside table. “Nope, don’t you dare. You said you’re too exhausted for sex tonight.”

“I am!” He replied, writhing a little bit so the semi he was sporting could disappear. “You’re just doing that a purpose!”

“I did absolutely nothing.” But he didn’t miss the glimmer in your eyes when your said that, or the way the corners of your lips titled upwards in the smallest smirk.

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do,” You easily replied, fingers swiftly taping away at the keyboard. “Want to watch a movie?”

“Why not.” Hopefully that would distract him from the burning desire to fuck you into the mattress. As much as he wanted to, his thighs couldn’t take it – Hoseok had gone too rough on him at the gym yesterday and coupled with his training for baseball Jeongguk’s legs felt like absolute mush.

“We’re not watching a good one because I’m sick and tired of your commentary.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t have an artistic eye for cinematography,” He sharply retorted, delivering a poke to your waist. “Whiny baby.”

You snorted. “Me? The whiny baby in this relationship? Please go take a look in the mirror.” Jeongguk kicked you shin. “Aw! Fuck off! And it’s not just the cinematography you take a dig at everything – the character development, the plot line, the dialogue – do I need to go on?”

“You don’t get to say anything – you enjoyed Twilight.”

“Yeah when I was fourteen!”

“I saw you watching it last weekend when you were supposed to be studying.”

“Edward is a hot vampire. Like anyone can agree that Robert Pattinson looked good despite that terrible makeup.”

He huffed, raising a hand to ruffle through the soft chestnut strands sticking to his forehead. You reached out your own, fingers slipping through his own as your nails dragged across his scalp. He sighed into it, back arching slightly as you drew patterns on his skull, the feeling of your nails scraping against his skin send shock waves of pleasure through his system. “I don’t care if he was hot, the special effects for that movie were disgusting.” He let out a soft gasp that had your rubbing your thighs together, his eyes closed in pure bliss. “I thought you were Team Jacob.” His voice was husky, telling sign that you’d set him off once more.

“I’m Team I Would Like To Be Fucked Tonight.” You stated, blatantly ignoring the stink eye he shot your way. “But clearly that’s not on our agenda. Have you ever seen Vampires Suck?”

“Obviously not – it sounds horrendous.”

The laugh you let out made something twist in Jeongguk’s gut, a rush of disappointment radiating through him when you retracted your hand. It was bizarre to him, how much he craved your touch. Even the smallest of encounters left him breathless. For fuck’s sake you were just giving him a half-assed head massage and he was riled up again.

“Oh you’re going to hate it,” You replied, oblivious to the wanting look Jeongguk had on your face. The blue screen illuminated your features, eyes bright and sparkling with mischief as you searched up the terrible film. He couldn’t help but smile, a crushing urge to kiss your nose rising in his chest. Sometimes you were so cute and it made him feel like his heart was bursting.

“It’s so stupid but kind of funny at the same time? It’s like a badly made version of Twilight,” You continued, pulling it up on the screen.

“A badly made version of Twilight? Babe, Twilight was terrible, how much worse can it get?”

You beamed. “So much worse.”

“God the things I do for you,” He groaned, shoving his face into the pillows. To be honest Jeongguk didn’t care about what you were watching tonight. His body already felt heavy with sleep and he was most likely going to knock out as soon as the opening credits rolled in.

“Scoot stinky boy,” You commanded, sliding back down into the comforters with the movie loading on the screen. You grabbed a pillow, propping it underneath the device as you scuttled into Jeongguk’s space, your legs landing right above his.

He sniffled, pushing up the pillows with his head so he could get a better view of the screen, “I’m not stinky, you smell,” He countered, wiggling his legs until yours were intertwined with his and your bare thigh was pressed against his own.

Sometimes Jeongguk regretted wearing nothing but boxers to bed. Yeah it was more comfortable but fuck if it wasn’t annoying to have you so close and not have the energy to fuck you the way he wanted to.

“Phew what was that? Smells terrible in here, close your mouth.” Jeongguk wanted to kiss the smile off your face.

“Shut up the movie is starting,” He instead chose to say, trying to distract his mind from how warm you felt against him, how his skin literally tingled with every gentle graze of your skin against his own, and how his dick was starting to become hard again for the third time that night.

It took five minutes of the opening scene for Jeongguk to realise that this was going to be the worst thing he’d ever see with his own two eyes and for his persistent boner to deflate like a popped balloon.

“What the ever living fuck was that?”

You giggled, leaning over to place a finger on top of his pink lips, the action causing Jeongguk to subconsciously pout.

“Shh, Bella is saving Edward.”

“They covered his dick with a disco ball! Why is he stripping in Italy? Why are there fan girls smashing each other with garden tools? What’s with the girls in bikini’s dancing in a jello fountain? Y/N what is this?”

“A masterpiece,” You murmured, pressing a kiss on his check – one that had Jeongguk leaning in for another, preferably on his mouth but you pulled away, flicking him gently against his forehead. “Now shut it and watch the movie.”

“Fine,” He retorted but his mouth was open a second later, eyes already observing a fault in the way the movie was shot.

And that’s the way the rest of your Saturday night ensued, Jeongguk throwing comments that whole movie was a pile of shit while you defended it (and occasionally critiqued because god this movie was horrible). Somewhere along Jeongguk had found a way to envelop you in his arms, pulling you right against his bare chest. He’d slug one of his legs over yours, fully dwarfing you in his hold as he pressed his warm mouth against your neck. His fingertips followed next, idly drawing lazy patterns against your skin while his eyes stayed sharp on the scene. But the movie got boring for him quick, the jokes were sub-par and the style it was shot it physically hurt his soul.

It didn’t take long for his mind to digress, nerves picking up the warmth you were emanating in his arms. Or the way his shirt had ridden up your thigh once again and the only barrier between you and him was the fabric of your panties which was pressed right against his own thigh. And his boxers but that wasn’t on the forefront of his mind. He could slide his thigh in between your legs if he wanted too, he couldn’t help but think about that, dragging a finger against your neck.

The shiver that jerked through your body jostled your backwards, further into his arms until the familiar curve of your ass was pressed right against his crotch.

He forgot the movie was playing in an instant.

You felt his hands suddenly drop to your waist, grabbing at the fabric that had bunched up there, his grip firm as he ground into the curve of your ass. It didn’t take long for you to start dripping, the need for his touch already buzzing beneath your skin just from being near him. But you weren’t going to give in that easily, despite how good his felt against your ass or the little sighs he made as he grew harder by the second.

“Nope, no,” You yanked yourself free, immediately yearning for the feeling of him against you.

“Babe~” There was a nip at your neck, one that nearly had you melting right back into him.

“No – no. You said you were exhausted. Sleep.”

“I retract that statement. Please, fuck, I need you.”

“I can’t hear you over this funny joke,” You taunted, making a point to laugh loudly.

“That was terrible joke and you know it,” He replied, yanking your back into his chest. You whined, raising your fists against his broad chest. Your hands hit taunt muscle as Jeongguk crawled on top of you, pulling underneath his hulking figure.

“No – Jeongguk,” You wheezed out, a laugh stuck in your throat. “The laptop, you’re going to drop it-”

He grabbed it before it could descend to the floor and shatter. In an instance it was slammed shut, abruptly cutting off Bella’s scream, and Jeongguk tossed it back onto the stool it was previously perched on. When he returned his attention to you, you couldn’t help but squirm, a rush of wetness slipping from your pussy at the sight of his dark blown out eyes.

“I was watching the movie,” You said indignantly.

“We can finish it later,” He breezily replied, “Want you now.” The peck on your nose took your off guard but when he pulled away, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t use words to describe, you couldn’t help but grin.

“I don’t think you know what you do to me,” Jeongguk continued, a hand on your hip tugging you closer underneath him. You swung your legs over his waist, giving him the room to lean down and nudge his cock right against your wet clothed pussy. The sigh he gave at the contact made your stomach flutter with need. “Fuck, babe, you have no idea what you do to me. You’re always so fucking cute even when you’re talking shit.” A press of his lips against your forehead as his hips rolled into yours. You groaned at the movement, revelling in the weight of your boyfriend over you. “You talk back all the damn time and it just makes me so hard. Even when you know you’re wrong – and you’re always wrong.” Another roll of his hips, this time rougher, one that had your cunt dripping. You nearly smacked the side of his head for the backhanded compliment but the next thing that slipped from Jeongguk’s mouth had you halting. “I love that – I love you.”

“Fuck,” You whispered, hands finding themselves entangled in his hair. “Fuck, I love you too.”

He stuttered to a pause, cock still pressed against you, staring at you with wide eyes. “You – you don’t have to say it back, if you don’t mean it.”

“No, I want to. Wanted to for a while now and I mean it. Jeongguk I love you.”

The bewildering laugh he let out echoed in your chest, the smile on his face so wide you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks and grin back. “I love you too Y/N.”

Then his lips were on yours and you could only melt into it. His tongue slipped beside yours, coaxing soft broken moans from your lips that had him bucking harder against you. Jeongguk tasted like the pepperoni pizza you’d gotten for dinner and coupled with the mint flavoured toothpaste you used the combination was not the best but it didn’t even matter because the boy above you loved you. You’d know for a while that this relationship was something else because Jeongguk made you feel things you didn’t even know you were capable of sometimes. Things were always so comfortable with him, even if they weren’t always easy. Being with Jeongguk felt right.

And he felt the same, even if he could only communicate it with nips to your lower lip and the tight hold on your hips as he rocked you into the mattress. Jeongguk felt like he was ablaze, from the tips of his toes to the heart slamming against his chest. He never expected you to say it back, at least right away. He didn’t even expect it to come out, it just happened. And the fact that you feel the same has him on the fucking moon and incredibly hard. He could only kiss you harder, map out your mouth with his own because he wanted to imprint the feeling of you whining into him in his memory for the rest of his life.

“Jeongguk,” You pulled away, exposing your neck when Jeongguk immediately latched on to. He was never going to stop kissing you. Never.

“Yeah,” He groaned into your skin.

“Need you to do something else with your mouth.”

“Whatever you want baby.”

He took the hint, sliding down until his breath was hot against your blazing cunt, His arms had pulled up the shirt and you reached down to yank it over your head when Jeongguk stopped you.

“K–keep it on please.”

“Why? You don’t want to see my tits?”

“Fuck,” He sighed, fingers digging into your naked thighs. “No I do, I love your tits… It’s just – I can’t explain, could you keep it on though?”

You raised an eyebrow but dropped your arms, complying with his request. You didn’t miss the little exhale he let out. And then his eyes were trained on your pussy once more.

The first lick made you jolt, even though it was through your underwear you could feel the familiar knot of tightening in your gut. It didn’t help that Jeongguk looked so pretty between your legs, how his wide eyes would flicker to yours for reaffirmation that he was pulling you apart.

“Take them off,” You whispered, after Jeongguk had delivered a kiss to your cunt. He did so with protest, eyes darkening when they landed on the slick covering your inner thighs.

“Look at you princess, you made such a fucking mess. Should I clean it up for you?” He hummed, brushing his nose against your inner right thigh.

“Yes, please fuck-”

He didn’t bother to open you up like he usually would. Jeongguk would take his time eating your own, sliding his tongue down your cunt, tongue dipping below to play with your entrance until he dragged it back up and teased his way to your clit. Tonight Jeongguk immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and flicking in sharp swift motions at had your toes curling in pure bliss and your hands fisting the sheets.

He abruptly pulled away, leaving you heaving as you glanced down. He grinned at your confused expression, lips coated in your slick and a rose flush on his face, and then reached out to direct one of your hands onto his head.

“Pull at my hair,” He murmured.

Oh – oh that you could do, and were about to state it when he resumed his assault on your clit, effectively making your brain melt from the pressure of his tongue on your cunt.

“Holy fucking – Jeongguk!” Your hips moved on their own accord, bucking into his mouth in search of something that would help you topple over and come because you really needed too. It didn’t help that Jeongguk had a low vibration going on his throat, the humming resounding into your cunt with every wet lick and press of his tongue on you. You couldn’t help but claw at his scalp, yanking helplessly at the strands there.

“Please, fuck! Let me come, please let me come.” He didn’t reply, choosing to instead slip two of his fingers between your thighs, circling your entrance with them as he gazed intently at you. The stretch you felt as he pushed them into you had you throwing your head back, legs spreading further apart so he could get deeper. It took a moment or two for him to establish a rhythm that kept in time with the ministrations of his tongue but it didn’t take long for you to come undone underneath them.

The need to orgasm was becoming unbearable. The small tremors in your thighs that you moaning into the heated atmosphere made Jeongguk grin, the flicks against your cunt speeding up. And then he crocked his fingers upwards, the pads of his fingertips slamming right into something that had you screaming his name.

It happened faster than you expected, one second Jeongguk had you unravelling with the sharp jabs into your sopping cunt and the next one you were clenching down on his fingers, thighs shaking with every tidal wave of pleasure that coursed through you. The only thing you knew was him name and he couldn’t help but bask in it. You looked gorgeous like this – mouth thrown open and your eyes on the brink of shutting. It made him so unbelievable hard that it was starting to hurt.

“Fuck,” You exhaled, blinking at the ceiling as Jeongguk pulled his fingers away, immediately cleaning them with his own mouth. The movement garnered your attention and you were left mesmerized as he licked you slick away before giving you a bright smile.

He rose upward, taking his place above you, heart leaping at the sight of your small figure still lost in his shirt but this time with a glow on your face.

“If you want we can do that agai-”

The taste of you on his mouth didn’t deter you. In fact you pulled him closer, your fingers grazing his abdomen, taut muscles involuntarily fluttering at the contact. Jeongguk was built magnificently – you could not deny his hours in the gym really paid off. And it made you want to climb him like a tree.

When Jeongguk detached himself from your lips, he huffed a small laugh landing another peck on your nose. “Your nose is so cute. Have I ever told you that? I love your nose.”

“My nose is ginormous you idiot. Stop trying to change the conversation.” You hand had wandered further down, dipping into the black fabric that strained against the curve of his cock. You didn’t know whether to start with him in your mouth or to sit on his dick immediately.

“Baby,” His mouth was in your neck, “I wasn’t joking when I said I couldn’t fuck you tonight. I don’t think I can handle being on top.”

“Then you don’t have to,” You retorted simply, causing Jeongguk to pull back so he could look you in the eyes. “Do you want me to sit on you first or would you prefer it I sucked you off instead.”

He was visibly stunned, a bewildering look glazing over his eyes. “I-”

You palmed at his cock, relishing in the way he arched into your touch, his eyes falling shut as a choked “Shit” slipped from his lips.

“Pick one baby.”

“Wanna fuck your mouth.”

You grinned, gently pushing him off so you could roll on top. He was now beneath you back against the mattress as his eyes eagerly followed your moments. You kissed the crock of his neck, hands dragging down to roll his nipples in your fingertips. He reacted the way you expected him too, with a soft groan and a curse that went straight to your core.

“Look at my baby, such a good boy,” You whispered against his ear with another flick to his nipples. “You’ve treated me so well tonight and I promise to do the same but I need you to do something for me. Only come when I say you can. Is that okay?”

He nodded so hard his head jolted the pillows apart. That was more than okay for him. You rarely ever took the dominant role in the bedroom but when you did he found it incredibly hot. He wouldn’t come until you let him, even he was aching to right at this very moment.

The only reason why you wanted to withhold his release was because you wanted Jeongguk to feel so good could he couldn’t help but come, you needed to see him like that tonight.

You pressed a satisfied kiss against his mouth, no tongue this time, and then found your way down to his boxers, kneeling forward before the hardness there. This stupid thing should have disappeared ages ago.

Jeongguk tossed them off at your command, leaving his cock exposed to the warm air, curving against his stomach, the tip red and dripping with precum. Your lips wrapped around it with a soft kiss, the welcoming wetness of your mouth leaving Jeongguk groaning as you sunk down on his cock. Where your mouth couldn’t reach your hands occupied.

Your wrists snapped up and down, twisting around his length in quick motions that you knew he liked. You tried to keep up with the pace you’d created with your hands but Jeongguk was thick enough that it was difficult to swallow his cock easily. Especially from this angle. But you pushed through the ache that was burning your jaw and kept the tight hold of your mouth around his dick, tongue swirling around the tip as your hollowed your cheeks.

“Fuck baby, fuck! Like that, yes, fuck I’m gonna – shit I’m gonna come-” He remembered what you’d requested but your mouth was so warm and so wet he couldn’t help but want to come down your throat, not when he could hear the way you were gagging around him. So when you pulled off with a disapproving look he didn’t feel sorry at all.

“Jeongguk,” You slapped his thigh. “You’re terrible at being a sub.”

“Sorry,” He replied, mouth twisted in a languid grin. “I haven’t jacked off in a couple of days and you’re mouth was – yeah your mouth was really nice.”

You sighed, bunching up his shirt at your waist. That revealed the new coat of slick coating your cunt that had the smile tumbling right off Jeongguk’s face. “Do you really need to come right now?”

“Yeah, fuck yeah I do.”

“Where do you want to come? In my mouth or in my pussy?”

Jeongguk’s brain went haywire.

“We’re – we’re not using a condom?” He choked out, painfully aware of how his dick twitched at the prospect of being buried inside you with no barrier.

You shock your head. “No, I want you like that.”

“You sure?” His tone was incredulous.

Another nod.

“Baby, I love you but, like, I’m not ready to be a dad.”

You hit his arm with a laugh bubbling from your mouth. “Idiot my period starts really soon.”

“Really?”

“Yes – please just pick a place to come.”

“Your pussy obviously, shit, come here,” He was reaching out for your hips, dragging your over his crotch. You hovered above him, cunt aching to have something inside it.

“Want me to keep the shirt on?”

“Yeah,” He replied dreamily, eyes enamoured with the way your pussy looked covered in wetness that he was responsible for.

“Jeongguk,” You continued innocently, a sharp look in your eyes.

“Yes baby,” His fingers were digging into your hips, gently pulling you closer to his cock.

“Do you have a kink for me wearing your clothes?” This halted everything.

He didn’t look you in eye as he mumbled out a hasty rambling sentence, “Maybe I do.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yeah, is that a bad thing?” He looked so innocent like this, gazing at you with the widest eyes that were brimming with apprehension. He looked like fucking deer caught in headlights who didn’t know whether to run forward or wait for the incoming disaster. You chose not to reply, instead wrapping your hand around his length and lining it up with your entrance. His own fingers were still digging into your hips, tensed as he awaited your answer.

“Jeongguk,” You said, using his cock to toy at your entrance. He groaned despite his uneasiness, the veins in his neck twitching. “Anything you find hot, I find hot. Just know that you’ve just given me free range to steal all your shirts now.”

The snarky reply on his tongue transformed into a groan of pleasure as you sunk down on him, your wet pussy sucking in every inch of his cock. You welcomed the stretch, pushing yourself down as your walls fluttered around his dick. Eventually he was burrowed inside you, your entrance flat against his crotch and the fabric of his shirt brushing against his abdomen.

Every time you had sex Jeongguk always found himself losing it at the feeling of your walls contracting and stretching around him. It felt like absolute heaven because you were always so wet and warm and welcoming for his dick. He’d never felt so connected to a person during sex, but with you even when it was a rough quickie before class, Jeongguk felt alive. Like this was where was meant to be – between your legs giving you everything he ever had.

You sighed, eyes wavering shut, and hips shifting slightly as you adjusted to the familiar stretch of his dick inside you. Jeongguk swore, his hips painfully still as he waited for you to start. His hands were grazing your thighs as he did so, hands trailing to your back so he could give you ass a tight squeeze.

For some reason, one Jeongguk couldn’t wrap his mind around, you in his clothes looking like this made his gut seize up with desire he’d never felt before. You just looked so beautiful like this, mouth open and pussy wet because of him and only him. And the fact that you were wearing his clothes – it was like a signal in his mind that this is for him. That you were for him.

“Baby, remember you can’t come until I say so.” Your smile was lazy as your forced open your eyes, hand on his stomach. You leaned forward and then you started moving. The grip on your hip tightened as you bounced on his dick, your pace quickening with every slap of his skin against yours. It took Jeongguk a second to process the pleasure exuding from his core, he couldn’t even speak, only watch in awe at the way your breast bounced gently beneath the fabric of his white shirt. Or the way your slick leaking all over his dick, making a mess that he wanted to touch.

You jolted up with the pad of his finger hit your clit, immediately moaning when he established a rhythm that had you jerking up and tightening around his dick.

“Jeongguk!” He’d raised his knees so you could lean back, the grip on your waist know purposeful as he fucked up into you with harsh precise thrusts.

“Say my name,” He groaned as you squeezed his cock, using one hand to guide your bounces with the other made quick work of your clit. “Say it baby.”

“Fuck, fuck! Jeongguk – fuck! Love you so much, ugh, love y-you” You threw you head back, screaming his name as your second high came crashing down upon you, pussy clamping down tightly around your boyfriend as you creamed around him. You couldn’t anything else but his name as your rode out your orgasm, toes curling in delight as the tremors cause your shudder above him, mouth wide open.

Jeongguk briefly projected from his body. You were so snug and tight around him he couldn’t help but grab at your hips, pulling your down roughly as his own hips bucked upwards, in a mad chase for his own high. He found it quickly enough, but forced himself to wait until you were coherent.

“Can I come?” He ground out, as you rested your palms against his stomach. You felt the muscle quiver beneath your touch, his stomach caving in with every thrust inside you pussy. You could tell we need to come so badly and yet he had waited for your permission. How was Jeongguk even real?

“Yes, yes, come baby.”

“Fuck,” His eyes were screwed shut as he fucked you through his orgasm, hips stuttering against your own as waves of ecstasy shot through his veins in bursts of pleasure.

It was strange, feeling his come inside you but it was feeling you welcomed. That was until you rolled off and it started slipping out of you. Your knees hit the mattress with a thud as you flopped down beside him.

“You owe me a thigh message,” You muttered into the air coloured by the scent of sex and your joint heavy breaths.

“Your thighs hurt?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good, now you know what I was feeling,”

“Fuck you Jeon Jeongguk,” You replied, the stupidest smile on your face as you whacked at his sweat coated arm.

His grin matched your air, brown hair tousled from your hands and eyes twinkling as he gazed at you. “You just did baby. Give me thirty minutes and we can go again.”

“Ugh, for that you have to get up and turn off the lights.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook scenario #bts fanfic #this the third time im making this post because the tags always break #like wtf

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stuck-in-hawkins · 4 years

Text

October 28th, 1993- Reunion

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Pairing: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656785/chapters/60958708

Will felt completely exposed. He just stood there breathless, staring, with his heart pounding a mile a minute.

Mike stood up from the couch, with that big beautiful smile. Before Will could pick his jaw off the floor, Mike was over to him in a few strides and had wrapped his long arms around him in a hug. Will was trying to process it all, but thoughts, sensations, and memories were crashing like waves against the shore and he could barely keep up.

His senses taking in all the familiar and new with Mike. How there seemed to be a place that Will just instinctively locked into in the embrace. The secure pressure of his arms wrapped around, the scent of some new cologne or deodorant that combined with the familiar smell of Mike that he could never quite pinpoint. There was the feeling of being small in his arms, and an onslaught of memories that beckoned. Will knew he’d lose himself in them if he dwelled but there would be time for that later. It just felt so good to be held by Mike again.

“Hey, Will.”

Will’s mind commanded, ‘Say something!’ He needed to recover so that he didn’t look like some lovesick puppy. But he was still taking everything in. He had only seen Mike a handful of times since leaving for college. He wasn’t used to how wide his shoulders were or how soft he’d gotten. Since 7th grade, Mike had been a beanpole, tall, bony. But now, all his edges were softened. He even had a bit of a belly. Will’s arms wrapped around Mike and felt… hair? Mike had a ponytail.

“Hey, hippie.” He pulled back from the hug. There were curls in the front of his face that were still too short to reach but it was plain as day: he had a ponytail. Will chuckled, “Since when did you decide to do a ponytail?”

“Since the last time the barber hacked off my hair.”

Will laughed, “You mean that buzz cut? That was two years ago!”

“Yep.” He took the hair in hand and flopped it so that it rested on his shoulder. It was a little past his shoulder. “This stuff grows like weeds.”

“Well, I’m still betting you’ll be the first to go bald.”

Mike held his hands up. “Don’t curse me like that, Will.”

“Sorry, but only models can have hair this perfect without paying for it later.” He hadn’t meant to, but he touched Mike’s hair as he said it. This would have been fine if he had just played it off. But, when he realized where his hand was, he drew it back so hard he hit himself in the chest.

Will thought, ‘Oh dear, God. Could you be any more obvious, Will Byers?’

And there it was, beneath the familiarity and laughter of friends, all the intimacy that had come during that time. The memory of being someone else’s other half was still ingrained in his every motion. The pathways in his brain had been carved out with each touch and a wall had come down. It could only be held up with conscious effort.

The motion was not lost on Mike and there was a recognition that crossed his face. But Mike smiled. Was it sympathetic, guilty, or just awkward? Will couldn’t tell. He mentally scolded his cheeks, trying to forbid them from blushing. But he could feel the heat rising. He hated being such an open book.

Mike broke the silence, “You always work on Sundays? Busy life on the prop scene?”

Will felt instant relief. Work was a safe topic. “It has peaks and troughs. Right now, I’m working on a bit of a passion project, making a monster.”

“Wait! Holy shit, like for a movie? What one??”

“It’s not for a movie, per say. It’s more like a talent scouting thing.”

Dustin interjected, “He couldn’t tell us, even if it was for one.”

Mike turned, “So you don’t badger him for info, then. Right, Dustin?”

“Uhh. Do you even know me, Mike? Of course, I do! He’s got to crack at some point.”

Will watched the way Mike’s eyes crinkled with those familiar laugh lines. And without even trying, Mike had made Will fall for him all over again. A part of him wanted to fight it, to just be happy with being friends. He wanted to save himself from the hurt that would follow. But this love was a familiar and warm embrace. It woke him up from the pain of that morning’s rejection. It was hope.

Mike was here for the first time in years. He was within reach again. He was gorgeous and smiling. But why was he there? What brought him out to Burbank after so long?

“When did you get in?”

“I think my plane landed at… 3?”

Dustin added, “Yeah. About then.”

“Feeling any jet lag?”

“For that crazy three hour difference?” He laughed. “It’ll probably just feel like a long day. I’m hoping that I can power through until 10.”

“Sounds like a late night for you, old man.”

Mike smirked, playfully, “Listen, just because you are some cool Hollywood cat now,” he poked Will in the stomach. Today of all days, he was wearing his crop top. And the contact was direct, skin on skin, Mike’s fingertips in his stomach for the briefest of seconds. Will felt his heart leap inside him. Mike did a double take looking at his mid drift, which had clear muscle tone. “And apparently working out?” Mike was astounded.

Will flustered, waving his arms, “I’m not like a musclehead, or anything! It’s just a thing I do with my friends from work.”

Dustin leered, “Don’t listen to him, Mike. It’s ‘cause he’s single and trying to bring home a beefcake.”

Will’s head snapped to Dustin. He was getting redder by the minute, “What the fuck, Dustin? BEEFcake?”

“Listen, you can’t bring home gorgeous men and me not talk about it. Seriously, Mike, these guys are all 10’s.” He winked.

Will was staring daggers at him, “I am never making you breakfast again.”

“WAIT! No!” He stretched his arm out, “I’m sorry!! I take it back.”

“Too late. It’s Captain Crunch for you from now on.”

Dustin groaned, and flopped over the couch, defeated. Will’s eyes flicked over to Mike and saw him suddenly self-conscious.

Mike caught his gaze and said, somewhat sheepishly, “I can’t say I’m really surprised, though. You're a catch, Will.” There was a sadness in it. As if Will was out of reach. As if he had been the one that got away.

The sincerity of it left Will speechless. Was he misinterpreting it? He wanted to let him know that the door hadn’t closed, but he didn’t want to be wrong and make things awkward. He’d clear the air later, when Dustin wasn’t there to watch. He couldn’t look at Mike’s face now.

He tugged the longer side of his hair behind his ear. A useless and nervous gesture, as the hair went right back in his face. “It’s not- I’m not-” He stopped himself. Take the compliment, he told himself. “Umm… thanks.”

Will saw Dustin smirking. Was he trying to play cupid? Will was going to chew him out the second he was alone. This was not something to play with.

Will desperately wanted to change the subject, “So, how are we going to show him the best California has to offer?”

“How about Gauman’s?”

Will shrugged, “Sounds good. What do you think, Mike?”

“That’s the place the Oscar’s are filmed at, right?” Mike asked.

“The very same. But, when there’s no Oscars or premiers it’s just a regular theater,” said Dustin.

Mike nodded. “Sounds awesome.” Will smiled seeing the childlike excitement on Mike’s face, the kind he used to get before a much anticipated movie or comic release. Will felt flutters and wondered if he would be coming down off of cloud nine anytime soon.

“Cool,” Will said. “I’ll go get dressed.” He needed to sort out everything going on inside his head.

Mike looked down at his own clothes, “Do we need to dress fancy or something?”

“Well, not exactly. You’re fine. But cut offs aren’t exactly something I wanna wear there.” He gestured at his own clothes.

Mike’s eyes flicked down and immediately looked away, his face beat red. “Oh. Yeah, of course.”

Will blushed. Holy fuck. They were both absolute disasters right now. He walked down the hallway to his room and flopped on the bed. Breathe. Why had Mike gotten so flustered? Why had he looked down? He could feel his stomach flipping at the suggestion in the question.

He had to calm down. But everything inside him felt like an amusement park, spinning, and jumping. How in the hell was he supposed to keep himself together? He had to wait until Mike was alone. It would be better to get it all out, clear the air. But what in the hell was he even supposed to say?

‘Hi, Mike! Nice to see you, by the way, I’m still in love with you. Is this a mutual thing? Or should I have gotten over all this years ago?’

He put the pillow over his head and groaned. He could get through this. At the very least, they would be in a theater. It was a familiar space, where they could forget everything else and just be the Party again, picking apart movies. Unravelling cinematography, digging up meaning, and concocting theories and Will could collect himself. ______________________________

They bought tickets for Return of the Living Dead 3. It was one of those gritty B rated movies that the party had always loved tearing to shreds. After they gave Mike the unofficial tour around the handprints, they went inside and paid for their tickets. They were making their way past the various displays of movie props and costumes encased in glass when Will’s eye caught sight of something. He turned so fast he nearly got whiplash and made his way over to the case. Inside, there was a set up for Halloween: a town of monsters, each with unique and incredible designs. The setting looked like an ink drawing come to life, complete with the texture of hatching lines on the ground. This parade of characters was led by a charming skeleton in a Santa suit and a girl that looked like a cross between a rag doll and Frankenstein. He read the plaque beside it: The Nightmare Before Christmas.

“Don’t drool on the case, Will.” Dustin teased.

Mike came over, “What is it?”

“These are the stop motion puppets from the movie,” Will answered. He couldn’t take his eyes off the figures.

“Oh, Stop motion! Like the special effects for the older Hollywood films?” Mike asked.

“Or like Rudolph,” Dustin added.

Will stared, “It’s like a cross between the two. It’s completely embracing the horror aspect of the medium and combining it with the whole Christmas movie tradition.” He couldn’t get over the character designs, the idea behind it. The premise intrigued him and he desperately wanted to watch it.

“Should we see that one instead?” Mike suggested.

Will turned, “No! No. I’ll definitely have to come back to watch it though.”

Dustin leaned in, “We have to go see that movie with him, Mike. He’s gonna totally flip shit the whole time.”

Mike crossed his arms like he was studying Will, “You think like Labyrinth level freak out?”

“Hard to say,” Dustin retorted.

Will shook his head, “Nothing will be Labyrinth level freak out. That was a once in a lifetime movie. A high fantasy setting with elaborate backdrops and the most insane special effects featuring David Bowie as the Goblin King, himself.”

Dustin smirked, “Not to mention those pants.”

Will stood up, “Why does everyone always bring up the pants?”

“Because it was an enlightening experience. I finally understood what you see in men. And now I know with certainty that if Bowie were to ever ask I’d- OW!”

Will punched Dustin’s arm. “You’re not gonna finish that statement.”

Mike chimed in, “You know better than to speak blasphemy against The Thin White Duke around Will.”

Dustin played it up, soothing his wounded arm. “Aw, come on, Will. I didn’t mean it, I know you get first dibs.”

“How kind.”

They laughed as they went into the theatre together. _________________________________________________

It was a tradition of theirs that following a movie showing, they would stand around the lobby and dissect it. However, since the theatre was getting crowded, Will suggested they relocate to the nearby diner. They began picking it apart in the car, shouting over one another the most grotesque or ridiculous parts. Will had the edge in these conversations now, because he could usually determine what exactly they used for certain effects. The guys enjoyed hearing Will’s insight into the behind the scenes techniques. Once they got in the diner and got their seats, the conversation quieted a bit and their ruminations became more well thought out. They cited different camera angles, acting, and plot points. It felt like old times.

After they ordered their food, Will asked, “So, Mike, how long are you in town for?”

“I’m staying for the week.”

Will almost dropped the fork he’d been messing with, “The whole week?!”

“Yeah, I have some vacation time that the boss told me I needed to use before December.”

“You didn’t want to save that for Christmas vacation?”

“Nah. A lot of families take that time off. School, you know?”

“That’s cool of you.”

Mike shrugged, “It’s just the decent thing, you know? El doesn’t really care about the holidays too much so I can be flexible.”

And a cloud swept over Mike’s face. Something he hadn’t wanted to bring up. Someone he didn’t want to mention. And Will could see him brace for the question.

Dustin asked, “How-?” He felt clumsy. “How is she doing?”

“She’s okay. She has her good days and her bad. I told you she lives with me now, right?”

Dustin nodded.

“That day I got my hair buzzed? Bad day.” He laughed it off, “I don’t think she recognized me for two weeks. The worst part? I actually bought a wig.”

Dustin nearly spit out his drink, “You what?”

Will laughed. “You didn’t!”

“Oh yeah. My first toupee. Looked like a fucking mop.”

Will joked, “Oh, please tell me you still have it. I’d pay money to see that.”

“No way. It’s haunting some thrift store now.”

Will shivered. “The worst thing to find there.”

Mike chuckled. He asked, “So, when is Lucas getting here?”

Will perked up, “What??”

Dustin suddenly looked awkward.

Mike turned, “Shit. Was that supposed to be a surprise? I thought he already knew.”

“No, it’s okay. Recover it! Surprise, Will!! Lucas will be here tomorrow!”

The smile on Will’s face could have lit up the city. He couldn’t contain his joy. His friends would be back together for the first time in so long. He didn’t see the way Mike was looking at him, the content smile and the eyes that just couldn’t get enough of Will’s warm glow.

Dustin was beaming, “Max will be picking him up and they’ll be staying at a hotel nearby.”

Will couldn’t believe it. “Dustin, did you put this all together?”

His friend got a little bashful and tried to shrug it off. “I mean… I just made a few calls. Lucas told me he’d be home in time for Halloween and I thought it was the perfect opportunity for a reunion.”

And then, something sank inside Will. Halloween. It had been ten years... Was that why Dustin was doing this? He coached himself, ‘Stop. Stop. Stop. Just enjoy this.’

He smiled. “It’ll be so good to see them again.”

The change wasn’t immediately visible to the guys.

Mike suddenly got excited, “Are we going to have a Halloween party or something to celebrate?”

Dustin answered giddy, “Oh, hell yeah! I mean we have the monster maker himself here!” He clapped Will on the back.

It shook Will out of his head. He saw how excited they were. Maybe this whole thing was orchestrated out of concern for Will, the thought of it stung his pride a bit. But then again, maybe it was the only way to get everyone together. The last time they had all been together had been when Hopper found El… She had been broken, disoriented, and wandering around New York City. The reunion had been one of grieving, trying to heal, and being there for Mike.

That was what going their separate ways had meant- only seeing each other for the big things: weddings and funerals so to speak. So, Will watched Mike and Dustin talking animatedly and let himself get caught up in it, too.

“As much as I’d like to bring the studio stuff home, I don’t think I could get it past Anderson. They get extra uptight at the shop with props and stuff around Halloween. Everyone wants to borrow stuff for their own parties. But I might be able to whip up something homemade.”

Dustin bragged to Mike, “It’s too bad you won’t get to see The Werehouse, Mike. It’s like a cinephile's wet dream. They have a full on werewolf! Fur and everything!”

Will asked, “Why wouldn’t he be able to go?”

“Because visitors are banned.”

“No, you are banned.”

“What do you mean, ‘I’m banned’???”

“You were touching literally everything!”

“And that was enough to get me banned?”

“You gave Scottie such agita, I thought she was going to have an aneurysm. Do you not remember her following you around, asking you to put things down?”

Dustin grimaced, “I got a little caught up. It was a lot to take in.”

Mike asked, “So, does this mean I get to go?”

The idea of showing Mike his work space was elating to Will. There was that familiar feeling that Will had everytime he handed Mike his sketchbook or a new drawing. The hope of approval and praise for his art.

Will eagerly nodded, “Just don’t touch anything.”

Mike smirked at Dustin, who groaned, “That is SO not fair!”

“Sorry, Dustin.” Mike shrugged as he scooted out of the booth.

Dustin pouted, “Are you, though?”

“Well, not really that sorry.” He laughed, “I’ll be right back.” Mike excused himself to the bathroom.

Once he was out of earshot, Will looked over at Dustin.

He didn’t want to ruin the moment but he had to ask. “Is there a particular reason you got us all together?”

“Because Lucas is coming home.”

“He was home a year ago. We didn’t get together then.”

Dustin’s shoulders sank and he started fidgeting with his napkin. “You said it yourself. It’s been too long. It was an excuse for us to get together. And… well, it has been 10 years...”

“You say it like it’s some kind of anniversary.”

“I mean, it kind of is. You making it out of all that alive is something to celebrate.” Dustin said it genuinely, his heart in his words, “We watched what we thought was you, pulled from the quarry. We listened to you calling out for help. It affected all of us, Will.”

Will suddenly felt selfish. He’d seen this whole thing as some kind of elaborate pity party, but he hadn’t been the only one to suffer. He hadn’t been the only one to face that thing.

But a question still nagged at him, “Did you tell anyone… about the nightmares?”

Dustin tightened and looked guilty. “Just Mike… he….”

“Dustin you promised!”

“I know. I know. But I was worried, Will! I didn’t know what to do.”

“There is nothing for you to do. It’s something that I’m handling.”

His friend looked at him, anger tempered in his brow, “They’ve gotten worse. Don’t tell me they haven’t.”

Will’s fingers dug into his knees, his knuckles turning white. He felt humiliated. It was true. They had been getting worse. It wasn’t so bad when he had someone sleeping next to him, but on the nights he was alone? There was a 50/50 shot at waking up in a cold sweat. A few weeks ago, he had woken up with a yell in his throat and Dustin’s panicked face above him, trying to shake him awake.

‘Please… don’t tell anyone, Dustin. Please…”

But of course he did.

“Will, you don’t say when things aren’t okay. You shoulder them until something breaks. So, I made a judgement call. I didn’t want you to go through it this year alone. I wanted you to know that you have us. That we’re here.”

Will put his head in his hands, “But why did you have to tell Mike?”

“Because I didn’t know how to help. And it’s damn near impossible to get him out of Hawkins these days. But he’ll do it for you.”

His insides did a somersault. “That’s another thing, Dustin.”

“What?”

“Please, stop playing cupid with me and Mike.”

He was quiet, mumbling, “I wasn’t trying to before, at the house. I was just messing around.”

“I know but the jokes were hitting a little too close. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t want to dig up. It’s complicated between us and we need to figure that out ourselves.”

Dustin looked like a puppy getting scolded, “I gotcha. Sorry.”

Will added, “And, I swear to God if I ever hear the word ‘beefcake’ from out of your mouth, I am mailing your nudie mags to your mom.”

His eyes got wide, “You wouldn’t!”

Will rested his chin on his hands, “You really want to gamble on that?”

He held up his hands, “Fine. It is stricken from my vocabulary forever.”

Mike was making his way back over and Will tried to tuck everything back inside. Mike slid back into the booth. He pulled a small notepad from his back pocket and put it on the table.

“Okay. So what are we doing for costumes?”

And Will laughed. All of a sudden, the years melted away. He remembered how Mike would spend the remaining days of summer planning out their Halloween costumes, their trick or treat routes. The jubilant energy of new ideas spreading across his face, the excitement in his voice. It all came back. This time was precious. Their lives would undoubtedly fall back into their pattern before long. Lucas and Max would likely move back by her job in Silicon Valley. Mike would go back to Hawkins. Back to El. So, Will needed to hold onto every moment and make them last.

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eyeslikefoxglove · 4 years

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Episode 14 - WangXian are a (v soft) Battle Couple & Foxglove is hella mad

Hi! Welcome to episode 14. I should be studying. It’s day two of morning runs, so my soul has left my body already, send help. Yesterday I went to buy plants with my mum and got so excited I just whacked on a bunch of eyeshadow because I haven’t seen the outside in weeks, I’m also wearing makeup today, because I have nowhere to go, but I really need to finish this bb cream before it goes bad, so my parents are getting my full fresh faced “woke up like this and put on mascara” routine (which is a fucking lie because I’m wearing at least three blushes and two highlighters). I’m determined to get this bitch down in under five minutes so I can have another five to do eyeshadow, I have way too much eyeshadow to not wear it (I have way too much everything except maybe mascara and eyebrow stuff).

Yes, if y’all were wondering I am in fact a makeup magpie. ANYWAY BACK TO THE ACTUAL THING WE ALL CAME HERE FOR.

(Btw further down I discuss once again how shitty I think the Yunmeng sibs’ parents are if that causes an issue for you)

Ok ok ok, so I was talking with damnpoe-2187 here about how we found that sometimes WWX crossed from gremlin into asshole when he tried to get LWJ riled up. Like in the Cold Springs, putting our shippers hearts aside, that was a dick move and he should have stopped undressing the second LWJ went from annoyed to incredibly uncomfortable. I find this scene the complete opposite, a show of character development if you will. It is kind of similar in that they’re both hurt, and alone (although this time is much more serious) and there was some undressing going on; however WWX here behaves like a fool in love considerate person and knowing how uncomfortable LWJ already is tries to make it easier for him. They’re also super soft and I’m weak.

A brief interlude from my one track mind: That pond is full of corpses isn’t it? Or at least the remnants of the Murder Turtle’s meals I suppose. Damn right WWX should not have gone into the water with an open wound, but think no one should go swimming in there without a full hazmat suit tbh (I want to pump them full of antibiotics at this point ngl)

So I love this tiny montage (is it even a montage) of the, getting themselves ready to kill the Murder Turtle.

Teamwooooooork.

Listen, I have read a few fics in which their mind-meld stays in place due to reasons and I need me more of those.

Ok, turtles don’t work that way, but then again, giant murder snake-Trex-turtle so that’s low on my list of priorities. What’s not low is the fact that this guy is knee deep into pretty much a mass grave and I want to take a few showers just watching him.

Yeah, I know exactly what he’s smelling and suddenly I hope I don’t have meat for lunch today tbh.

The screaming sword has always been fucking creepy and does LWJ’s fist clench mean that he’s also hearing them?

BATTLE COUPLE! BATTLE COUPLE! BATTLE COUPLE!

So I know killing the thing took them something like six hours. And while it feels quite a long time in the show, I think that, if they cut the scene with idk, JC running towards Lotus Pier, then back to them, then back to JC, but now the sun is in a different position, back to them, but now the blood from LWJ’s hand has dripped down his arm; and so on a so forth it’d convey more clearly how long it took for the Murder Turtle to die. I know fuck all about cinematography tho so feel free to ignore all this if it is in fact an abomination.

Tiiiiiiny interlude here to say that Yiling Patriarch!WWX is probably one of my favourite character archetypes. He’s slightly creepy, slightly amoral (smiling while torturing and murdering bad guys is still amoral ok), more than a bit on the Dark Side, cocky, smirky, a bit of an asshole a BAMF, a rebel with cause and yet he will still do the right thing, not despite his nature, but because of it. He’s kind of like a Chipped Spike? But you know, he doesn’t need electroshock to behave.

I just want a fic where he’s this Dark Lord of Evil in everyone’s eyes however the ‘good guys’ take a break from trying to off him because a bigger threat just popped up and they have no choice but to ask for his help. He agrees, keeps being his charming self while also saving everyone’s asses, LWJ is smitten.

TL;DR: The Necromancer is hot. Oh and nobody dare deny LWJ has a Yiling Patriarch kink.

Oh my, this is the part when I always get teary eyed.

WUJI ON A CELLO? DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME?

“Why hasn’t Jiang Cheng shown up and rescued me yet?” THIS IS ALL THE PROOF I NEED THAT WWX IS THE BABY SIBLING.

“Lan Zhan sing me a song”

IT IS HAPPENING, STAY FUCKING CALM EVERYBODY (I’m crying)

That slideshow of their best moments set to WuJi is a masterpiece, and also, it kind of drives home the point of “how tf did we go from flirting during summer camp to this mess”?

(Btw if that’s YiBo humming he’s got one hell of a deep voice)

Ok ok ok, so this moment had me spitting up my tea the first time I watched it. Believe it or not my dumbass thought these people were actually serious with the censorship and we’d get scraps of their actual relationship. Lots of charged moments like in some other western tv shows I’ve seen when two dudes have chemistry but “they’re not gay”, no longing glances, no tender touches, no being unbelievably soft with each other; just you know, amped up, because if I’m not mistaken you can be arrested in China for “promoting the gay”. I mean, they changed the beginning when people insult MXY’s sexuality to insulting his mental health; no one would think “ah yes, the gays are good” when they hear it used as a slur, but they still erased it completely. One of the things I thought they’d fully take away was WangXian, I mean, the into/outro is named Wuji, which, you know, still a mishmash of their names, but not their ship name. It is such a significant part of the story with all the “what’s the song name? Figure it out yourself” that if something were going to give away that they’re married with a kid it would be that. I thought we’d get an artful fade to black BEFORE LWJ would say the name not after. And also, YiBo is enunciating it so clearly that, even with the sound muffled and the blurriness I, who don’t speak Chinese, can make out the two syllables. That’s deliberate, I can say “WangXian” loud and clear without moving my lips too much. At this point in time I must assume someone in charge of looking for censorship violations in the show is a fan and just ignored it.

Censorship person 1: dude, isn’t that a bit too gay, maybe you shouldn’t greenlight it.

Censorship person 2: shut the fuck up, sit here and watch.

*a full rundown of the whole of CQL later*

Censorship person 1: oh my god they’re so in love and they deserve to be happy.

Back to the commentary: I’m sorry but I have a mighty need of a WWX & Peacock friendship ok? This might be me just wanting WWX and LWJ to make other friends besides each other but I think that the Peacock is just bitchy enough to not take any of WWX’s bullshit.

And the Yunmeng bros timing for banter strikes yet again.

That’s terrible quality fake blood btw.

@ Yunmeng disciples: STOP SHOOTING FUCKING KITES PLEASE AND THANK YOU

Oooof even with a change of clothes our boy is still looking rough as hell.

MY LOVELY YUNMENG SIBS BEING SOFT AND HAPPY WITH EACH OTHER.

It hurts my soul that the second JFM starts praising WWX for surviving the Murder Turtle our boy’s knee-jerk reaction is to start praising JC in return. It is instinctive, how many times must this have happened for him to know his brother won’t even get scraps of praise? (Seriously fuck their parents)

It was going so well, I mean, JFM had a point warning him to not say things in anger. But I thought he was going to tell him that it is because sometimes he’ll hurt someone without wanting to, yet, this asshole decided to, once again, remind his kid he thinks he’s a failure.

And here comes Mme Yu who I can only assume had a servant posted at the door to warn her when WWX woke so she could throw some verbal abuse at him. I mean, she must have been missing it.

And JFM’s misogynistic bullshit strikes once again, because why defend ALL your kids when you can insult your wife.

(Every time someone berates WWX for “intervening” I want to scream. I mean, seeing this I can believe why the society as a whole thought genocide was a good idea.)

I love how they use their kids as props in their fight, I mean it’s not like they have feelings or anything. This woman is gaslight-y as hell too “you don’t love your kid because I gave birth to him”, you can’t tell me saying that in front of the son she’s supposed to love isn’t going to hurt him. And she knows it, I mean, besides the Wen attack I’ve never seen her hit the kids (although I very much doubt she hasn’t), so a good part of the abuse must be verbal. There’s no fucking way a person who regularly uses words that way won’t realise where she’s aiming those arrows. Which means to her (to both) the kids are collateral.

But FR, the barely-out-of-adolescence disaster bi necromancer PTSDing all over the place and living in a mass grave was a better parent than any of the current adults in this thing.

Which brings me to another point, Shijie is textbook “the oldest sibling is just another parent” and I’m making myself very angry.

[this is when I start frothing at the mouth and itching to write a modern-girl(and friends)-dropped-in-CQL because someone has to be a positive adult influence in these kids’ lives and it sure as shit ain’t the ones in the actual show.]

CAN WE STOP BRINGING PEOPLE’S DEAD PARENTS INTO THE FIGHT?

*deep breath*

I am going to feed JFM & Mme Yu each other’s spleens. Look, listen, look and listen, let’s first talk about how calmly they lay out the facts of their lives, one is only loved because he’s been brought up in the shadow of his dead parents, the other knows with certainty his father dislikes him and his mother uses him as leverage in marital disputes. When have these two not exploded their emotions all over the place? Fucking never. Yet here they are, talking about this bullshit like some bout of inconvenient weather. They’re used to it!

And now let’s talk about yet again siblings-are-just-extra-parents, with an added pile of WWX’s terrible self awareness that, to the man who brought him up, his worth is due to his dead parents. Again I’m extrapolating, but with the amount of times Mme Yu brings up his parents in such a negative light I refuse to believe JFM hasn’t made all the “you’re so much like your parents” comments to him every time WWX does something right. I mean, telling an orphan about their parents if they ask is a good thing, but WWX seems starved for stories about his them, which leads me to believe JFM refuses to talk about the topic except to make those little comments. What a fucking stellar way to give someone all the trauma if you ask me. May also explain a lot of WWX’s self worth issues if the biggest praise he’s ever heard is that he resembles dead people, yes, people who were loved, but they’re dead, and it doesn’t look like any adult has bothered to go and differentiate WWX from ZSSR&WCZ.

I’m just really mad, despite all the silly anecdotes I put in here my parents are fucking great at parenting, so I know what good parents should look like, and this ain’t it.

Ok, so I made myself angry and I don’t know if I should move onto the next episode now or wait till tomorrow but thanks for reading!

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #mdzs live action #foxglove watches cql #foxglove watches the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #yunmeng shuangjie #yunmeng trio #yunmeng siblings #yunmeng bros #Foxglove is hella mad #good parenting? Less likely than you think

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introvertguide · 4 years

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Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001); AFI #50

The current movie for review from the AFI top 100 is the most recent of the films, Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001). This was the introduction of director Peter Jackson to much of the mainstream American audience despite him having a 20 year history of film making in New Zealand. The film is beautiful in so many aspects, from the special effects to the cinematography to the sets creating the world of Middle Earth. The film received 12 nominations at the Academy Awards and received 4 of them, a feat unheard of for an epic fantasy film. This is also the only “incomplete” film on the AFI list because there are no other “too be continued” stories. There are some films that are first and second parts (specifically The Godfather 1 and 2), but this is the only one that intentionally stopped with intent for the story to pick in the next film. With that being said, the sheer number of characters and the intended incomplete nature of the film makes it almost impossible to summarize without just going scene by scene. There are 100 movies on this list and I am not going to set any precedence that I will be doing that, so here is a very brief synopsis of what happens in this film without diving into too much of the lore concerning the rest of the trilogy or The Hobbit:

SPOILER WARNING!! I DON’T KNOW WHY IT IS NECESSARY ON THIS ONE, BUT I DO IT EVERY TIME AND I WANT TO BE CONSISTANT!! IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THIS BY NOW OR ARE UNFAMILIAR WITH THE STORY, THEN YOU ARE LIKELY VERY YOUNG, LIVE UNDER A ROCK, OR PURPOSEFULLY AVOIDING IT!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED SO I DON’T WANT TO GET ANY NOTES ON THIS ONE!!!

So here is the general outline, there was an evil guy named Sauron that gave out rings of power to the Elves, Dwarves, and Humans in a realm called Middle Earth. This land is a fantasy realm that has a mix of Dark Age castles mixed with monsters and human like races. It looks strangely like New Zealand through a lot of the country side. Coincidence I am sure. Anyway, Sauron tricked the different races because he kept for himself one ring to rule them all and bind the ones wearing the rings to him. This did not go over well so the humans, elves, and dwarves rose up and fought Sauron and his armies and were able to get the master ring during battle. There was a chance for them to destroy the ring but human corruption prevented this and the ring was eventually lost. It eventually ended up in the hands of a man that kept it close and allowed it to suck away his life until it was stolen by a small human-like creature named Bilbo Baggins. The ring was taken on many adventures (see The Hobbit films for this story) and it gave this little hobbit prolonged life, but it also became an addictive burden. Bilbo decided to go off and leave the ring for his nephew and this is where the story begins. I know, it’s a lot.

A wizard named Gandalf (Ian McKellen) comes to the hobbit village as Bilbo is leaving and makes sure the ring is left in the hands of the nephew Frodo (Elijah Wood). The wizard confirms the ring is the one that rules them all and reveals that Sauron is regaining power and wants the ring. For the safety of the shire, Frodo must take the ring to Rivendell, home of the Elves, to figure out what must be done. Gandalf has to take care of some business so some other hobbits - Sam (Sean Astin), Merry (Dominic Monaghan), and Pippin (Billy Boyd) - get wrangled into the journey and the group of four go off to a local human town to meet Gandalf and continue forward. This short trip proves treacherous as the 9 humans that were given rings of power had been corrupted and turned into Nazgul that are attempting to track down the little group of hobbits. Gandalf does not show up, but the group run into a ranger named Strider at the human tavern and he helps fight off the ring wraiths. With the help of his elf girlfriend, Arwen, the group are able to make it to Rivendell where they are presumably safe for the time being.

A meeting is held at Rivendell and representatives of the different races all show up to decide what must be done. The ring must be destroyed so a fellowship to transfer the ring to Mount Doom is formed. It is made up of the four hobbits, Gandalf the wizard, an elf named Legolas (Orlando Bloom), Strider the Ranger who is actually a human king named Aragorn (Viggo Mortenson), a dwarf named Gimli (John Rhys-Davies), and another human named Boromir (Sean Bean). I have seen enough movies with Sean Bean as a side character to know that he is for sure going to die. It is only a matter of when.

So the group heads off toward Mount Doom and initially start by taking a path through snowy mountains but have to turn back and instead decide to go under the mountains. The dwarf is excited because he can visit his cousin who is king under the mountain. Alas, all they find is skeletons and an evil race created by Sauron called orcs. This race also seems to have other evil creatures enslaved including a cave troll. The Fellowship is chased through the bowels of the mountain until the orcs suddenly back off and the group finds something even worse, an ancient evil called a Balrog. Gandalf takes on the creature at a stone bridge and screams the now memed words “You shall not pass!” The Balrog falls into a pit but drags Gandalf down as well, reducing the number in the group by one wizard.

The group mourns the loss very briefly (and dramatically) before traveling to an elven forest where Frodo is told by a queen that he will have to take on the quest alone and that one of the fellowship will betray him. They continue on and it turns out that a wizard named Saruman that was corrupted by Sauron (confusingly close in name, I know), has created super buff orcs called Uruk-hai (pronounced “Orick Eye” all blended together) to hunt down the party. Boromir tries to take the ring from Frodo but immediately makes up for it by sacrificing himself to protect the hobbits from the super orcs. Sean Bean was kind of a bad guy and was killed. What a surprise. That actor really needs to find different roles or he is going to spend his entire career being type cast.

Anyway, Frodo and Sam break away from the group to go off on their own, the other two hobbits are captured and taken by the orcs, and then Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli decide to track everybody down. To be continued.

This probably seems like quite a short synopsis for a 3 hour movie...but legitimately the movie is a visual spectacle in which not a lot happens. Most of the movie is traveling, fighting, introducing the lore of the world, and introducing characters. Not a whole lot of plot progression in this particular movie, but it sets the stage for the second film to be nothing but battle and progression (an hour long battle of Helm’s Deep which is amazing), while the last one is nothing but battles and resolution of every story line. It is an incredible trilogy and this is only the beginning and it had audiences drooling for more.

In fact, Peter Jackson films set the standard for special effects for the early 21st century. His team took home the Oscar for best visual effects in 2001 for Fellowship of the Ring, in 2002 for The Two Towers, in 2003 for The Return of the King, and in 2005 for King Kong. No film series with consecutive releases has done this except Lord of the Rings (not even with Star Wars, Marvel, and DC universe films coming out constantly). The series really is something special. Attempts had been made to tell the trilogy as an animated movie, but no drawings could do the world justice. It took advanced computer graphics, motion capture technology, an expansive New Zealand countryside, a quirky director that had envisioned this world his whole life, and a dedicated cast and crew that was fully committed to the project. It is an amazing piece of filming.

If I have any complaints, it is that there is some really corny drama. The amount of times that Elijah Wood overacts in pain or despair is more digits than I have. Especially when the group is mourning the loss of Gandalf...it is kind of embarrassing. It is that “inconsolable parent who lost a child” acting with scream crying and shouts of “Noooooo!” It is all the hobbits, too, which doesn’t help that they are the size of children and are having a despair tantrum. Luckily they keep going and that is a one minute scene, but still it is embarrassing. Also, Frodo is stabbed and presumed dead twice. I can see why there were no nominations for best actor because it was not the best acting.

It is all made up for by the incredible battles. For me, it is the chase under the mountain with the orcs and the cave troll and the balrog. That is about 30 minutes of constant fight or flight that left me short of breath. I realized I kept forgetting to breath I was so mesmerized by the constant intensity. There is also a good amount of comedy since the hobbits are generally peaceful farmers and they don’t know how to (or want to) have adventures and keep messing things up. Pippin and Merry keep touching things that they shouldn’t and it brings all kinds of trouble. I think it is one of them that knocks some armor into a well that catches the attention of the orcs under the mountain.

Two specific scenes that I found memorable in that they are burned into my brain forever were the Nazgul fight and the appearance of the cave troll. The Nazgul are absolutely terrifying in that they have no face and have only one intent: kill whatever they are hunting. A good comparison would be to Dementors in the Harry Potter universe. The Nazgul are like Dementors with swords and armor. What is worse, Frodo can use the one ring to make him invisible, but it puts a target on him for the Nazgul and they come straight for him. They idea that you can’t hide from this evil and attempting to will make you stand out more is kind of horrific. I found the Nazgul truly disturbing. The cave troll is just awesome and huge. At no point was I worried for the team on this occasion because the wizard, elf, dwarf, and humans seemed undefeatable. It was more of curiosity about how they were going to handle this challenge. The detail of filming all the actors and sets so they were affected by the troll made the huge beast and the threat it posed in an enclosed space seamless.

There was some question why this movie was on the AFI list and the other movies in the trilogy were not, especially with the third film winning 10 Oscars including best picture. It is because this was the watershed film that made the others possible. I got to see the film in the theatre and it was an experience like no other. I cannot think of a movie that had created such a complete fantasy world like LOTR and it made for a truly cinematic experience. I generally do not like movie theatres because people around me whom I have no control over can affect my experience and I am not normally willing to pay for that. However, the theatre I was in had tiered level seating that was graded enough so that nobody blocked my view and ample leg room that also prevented kicking from behind. It was a thing of beauty and I went and saw the other two films in the theatre as well. It was amazing.

So does this film deserve to be on the AFI 100? My goodness, I would think less of the AFI if it wasn’t. It changed audience expectations of what a movie could be and set the tone for the new millennium as far a big budget cinema. Would I recommend it? Please, I own it. If you come by my place and you haven’t seen it, then I will be happy to put aside 3 hours and watch it again with you. It is the easiest epic film to get through, in my opinion, and I don’t think you will be sorry to give up the time. Just a fantastic movie.

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thearabkhaleesi · 4 years

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REVIEW: KILL BILL

Kill Bill stars Uma Thurman as the Bride, a former assassin who swears revenge on a team of assassins & their leader, Bill, after they try to kill her & her unborn child. The story is divided into two films, Vol. 1 (2003) & Vol. 2 (2004) - both written & directed by Quentin Tarantino. This will mainly be a review of Vol 1, but I left a small section at the end where I briefly discuss my thoughts on Vol 2 without mentioning spoilers for either film.⚔️ - Kill Bill Vol 1 is an exciting, thrilling ride from start to finish as we follow the mysterious Bride & her quest for revenge. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. I’m not going to pretend like I know anything about the martial arts movies Tarantino pays homage to in Kill Bill, I haven’t seen a single one of the genre yet, but to me it felt like QT took everything he loved from those films & perfectly paid homage to them & adapted it for Western audiences or those that are unfamiliar with the genre (like me) by Americanizing it & adding his signature touches & trademarks without butchering or mocking the films he was inspired by; simultaneously, he didn’t let any of that stop him from going all out on this film in every aspect, from the most unashamedly violent & bloodiest action to the highly stylized storytelling of the film. It's as if Tarantino added any stylistic device he could think of when writing the script or in the editing room, & surprisingly, it works… really well. It shouldn't, but it does - I think if many other directors attempted it they wouldn’t have pulled it off the way he did; it helps that Kill Bill has a simple premise to follow (something I appreciate & give bonus points to in any action film) while remaining extremely exciting - aided by the heavy stylization. The 10-minute anime sequence on its own could be taken out & released on its own as a short film & it would still be excellent, worthy of all the praise, & be a lesson in filmmaking in itself, which speaks for how remarkable the rest of the film is - You don’t get bored for a single second while watching The Bride kick butt in a thousand ways that would guarantee she’d win a fight against any male action hero, & she does that as a kind of anti-hero. She's definitely among my favorite Tarantino characters, yet I still can’t help but have a bit of mixed feelings about The Bride’s character. - By giving her the story of being a mother whose child is taken away from her, we don’t REALLY need to know much more about her intentions in the film - that is definitely reason enough for her to seek revenge & for us to sympathize with & root for her... & while I really like the simplicity of that & the theme of revenge, I felt like I still needed to know a bit more about her, especially when her antagonist in the film has a fleshed out, brilliant backstory, one we can more easily connect with, while The Bride is left with close to nothing. And based on what I know & have seen, Tarantino isn’t the type of director who’s philosophical & deep & would write her in such a way so we’re left to question ourselves, our experience or our morality, even while making her such an interesting anti-hero to follow…

That leads to my thoughts on Volume 2... After the extremely fast, action-packed pace of Vol 1, Volume 2 felt a bit odd. The pace is slower, the film drags on & takes its time, there are unnecessary detours that easily could’ve been edited out of the story for it to be more streamlined…whereas in Vol. 1 it felt like we barely had time to catch our breath from all the action. But most importantly, I was liked how the story ended overall & I was quite satisfied with it. It occurred to me later that I might’ve liked the whole thing even more if it were one 3 hour movie rather than two 2-hour long films… Or if Vol. 2 followed a grown-up Nikki... At the end of the day though, I can’t say I didn’t love or thoroughly enjoy Kill Bill. I understand the praise it receives & definitely think it’s worthy of it. It’s a great film, one I consider a must-watch, & one of my absolute favorites among Tarantino’s filmography, with incredible action, cinematography, & direction. I know I’ll definitely revisit it many more times in the future. - Rating: ‪9/10‬⭐️

#kill bill #review #kill bill vol 1 #kill bill 1 #Quentin Tarantino #tarantino #uma thurman #movie review

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emisfritish · 5 years

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𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝚃𝚘𝚙 5 𝙱𝙻 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚜/𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 5 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍

Rules : Jot down your top 5 BL Dramas/Series that have made their way to your heart and five honorable mentions you would recommend to newcomers. Tag ten users you think would like this game.

So I’m super late into doing this, but I figured it would be fun ! So thank you @ohbabycupcakes for tagging me ! Also you would think this would have been hard for me, but I actually love making lists like the crazy person I am, so my TOP 10 has been ready for a while ;p

Top 5 BL dramas

Okay fair warning, these won’t be in order because picking 10 was already kind of difficult when I first made the list, you can’t ask more of me !

1. Until We Meet Again

To the surprise of absolutely no one that follows me, this masterpiece had to make it into the list. It had it all : Amazing plot, a perfect ship, brilliant acting, enjoyable side pairings, great secondary characters, positive female characters. This show really took me by surprise with how much I ended up loving it, and I absolutely adored every single episode. It makes you feel every so many different emotions and although I get how some people thought it was a little too long, each and every episode flew by for me.

2. Theory of Love

I’ve loved OffGun since Puppy Honey, and it was so amazing to see them again in this brilliantly written drama. Gun always takes my breath away with his acting, and this show was no exception to that. Off also brought his A Game and I loved the evolution of their relationship throughout the show. I absolutely loved the fact that this BL was filled with references to so many movies and thought its production was amazing. I loved the entire gang of friends, and it’s honestly one of the only Thai BLs that has managed to blindside me with a pairing that I ended up loving to, so kuddos to them !

3. Great Men Academy

This one had to make the list because GMA is truly one of the shows I adored this year. The acting is amazing, I absolutely love both leads and the main couple, and I just found myself thoughroughly enjoying myself throughout all 8 episodes of the show. It’s another show where you go through so many different emotions, so many of the characters are amazing, and I loved the way they developped not only the relationship between the two leads but other types of relationships like sibbling relationships and friendships. If you haven’t watched GMA yet ? Go do yourself a favour and watch it now ;)

4. Sotus / Sotus S

I know this one can be a little bit of a controversial choice today, but Sotus / Sotus S (I know, I’m even one of the weird ones that loved Sotus S!) were the first BLs I watched, and for that they will always have a special place in my heart. Those shows aren’t perfect, but Sotus is so damn addictive, I absolutely adored Kongpop, and it’s one of those shows that I binged in two days because I needed to see more NOW. Had it not been my first, I’m not sure it would have been part of my top 5, but as of today it’s still a classic in the genre and the show I can go back to whenever I want a pick me up.

5. HIStory : Make Our Days Count

I really hesitated on which HIStory show to add to my list because they are honestly so many I adore, but because of my love for Yu XI Gu, this one had to be it. In spite of the awful ending (that I shall go back to pretending doesn’t exist right after this post ;)), the rest of the drama is amazing and the development of the relationship between the two leads is amazing. This drama made me go through so many different emotions and is yet another one that genuinely managed to surprise me several times throughout the show (including that time they wrote awful episodes that made no sense to end the show). I loved all of this drama as much as I hated its ending (and again if you follow me, you know that was A LOT), and because this main couple owned my heart, because the show had a great secondary pairing too, because of their band of lovable idiot friends, this show remains in my Top 5, and I would strongly recommend it !

5 honorable mentions

1. Love by Chance - Although I didn’t love everything about this show, both AePete and TinCan stole a bit of my heart and it’s one of those shows that I just couldn’t stop watching. I got so emotional when the announcement for a season 2 came, and I would strongly recommend it to anyone.

2. HIStory 2 - Crossing the Line - This show is honestly one of my absolute favourite ones, and so much of it is perfect. This show is truly flawlessly written and is a must for anyone that hasn’t seen it before. The only reason it’s not higher up on my list is because the number of episodes didn’t allow them to develop some of the characters as much as I would have liked, and in spite of this it remains one of the show that I would gladly watch again and again.

3. Dark Blue Kiss - This show is another one that isn’t perfect, but that I ended up loving anyway. PeteKao are everything (and I’m a sucker for established relationships), MorkSun were amazing, the production, costumes and cinematography of the show were amazing and TayNew managed to suck me in like always.

4. He’s Coming to Me - Yet another show with Acting King Singto, need I say more ? Seriously though, this show has it all. An amazing cast, a great plot, a lovable group of friends, so many important scenes, and is another one that will rip your heart out and make you laugh out loud in the span of an episode.

5. HIStory 3 - Trapped - YES I am going to go with another HIStory, you can’t stop me ;p ! Seriously, this is the show where I was literally counting the minutes until a new ep would come out. Shao Fei is amazing, the show is so damn addictive with a great plot, both couples (the main one and the side couple) are amazing and it’s a show I loved from start to finish. In spite of its dark theme, it was super funny and I would take a sequel or a movie instantly.

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I love reading other people’s opinions on BLs, so I’ll tag : @bl-fan @gmmtvmother @yihwas @princessoftheshadows @pallyson @earthfluke @lookattheredredchangesinthesky @weilongfu @iplann and whoever else wants to do it !

Don’t forget to go and follow the amazing gifmakers that made all of the ones in this post, and to reblog all of their work, and I can’t wait to read your opinions =)

#bl shows #tag game #until we meet again the series #theory of love #great men academy #sotus #history 3 : make our days count #sotus s #history 2 : crossing the line #history 3 : trapped #he's coming to me #dark blue kiss #love by chance

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sebastbu · 5 years

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My Top 40 Movies of the Decade

***just my opinion***this list is not set in stone either***

1. 12 Years A Slave (2013)

What Steve McQueen has managed to do with this movie in nothing short of the best thing art is capable of. He takes the horror of humanity and turns it into a heart shattering tale of the best of humanity. A film that could have sunk easily among the brutality it contains, instead soars with Solomon’s survival. It is one of the most life-affirming, uplifting works of art I’ve ever seen. It makes you cry, it makes you shout, it makes you cheer, it makes you breathless. In short, all the things movies are best at. Not just a definitive movie, but a definitive work of art.

2. The Act of Killing (2012)

This has my vote for the best documentary film of all time. What begins as a transfixing profile of the mass murders responsible for the 1965 Indonesian genocide quickly transforms into a Brechtian nightmare as director Joshua Oppenheimer somehow convinces these men to stage scenes for a fake movie reenacting their crimes. As the film progresses you can hardly believe what you’re witnessing. Horrifying, yet you can’t look away. Oppenheimer holds your attention for every second. What’s captured for film here is truly unique, ground-breaking, soul shaking. A statement about the banality of evil as profound as Ardent’s essays.

3. The Tree of Life (2011)

Malick has reached his final form here. An organic art form, pure cinema, visual poetry, whatever you want to call it. Nothing but a movie could be this. The images he crafts here are as close to a religious experience as I’ve ever had watching a movie, and probably ever will. In exploring childhood memories, Malick’s style perfectly matches his subject manner. He use of ellipsis and fluidity mirrors the way memories flash through our heads. It is as if we are witnessing memory directly, unfiltered. This movie will move you in ways you didn’t know a movie could.

4. The Social Network (2010)

That Facebook movie? Hell yeah that facebook movie. What Fincher and Sorkin have managed to do is take what could be a standard biopic, or dull tech movie, and made it into an epic tale of betrayal, greed, friendship, coming of age, and identity. Ross and Reznor’s score pulses, as does the dialogue. This movie starts the instant you press play and it doesn’t let you catch your breath for one second until the very end. Endlessly quotable, perfected acted. A masterclass.

5. The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

What can I say about this movie? Every shot is perfect. Every joke, beat, pan, zoom. Well, I guess I’ll say this. This movie disarms with its charm, its facade. But at its heart is a wrenching tale of loss, nostalgia, and the fleeting nature of everything, especially those we love. A jewel of a film. Anderson makes sure you’re cozy and then pulls the rug out from under you, and suddenly you’re crying.

6. The Master (2012)

Career best performances from Joaquin Phoenix and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Lushly shot. Greenwood delivers another ground breaking score. PTA has made an aimless film about aimless characters that nevertheless is riveting. At the end, you may not know exactly how far you’ve progressed, but you’re sure glad you went on the journey.

7. Drive (2011)

This is not an action movie. It’s a love story. The now famous dream pop soundtrack. Ryan Gosling doing so much with so little. Refn’s breathtaking cinematography. Diluted dreams. Crushed hopes. Silent gazes, filled with more emotion than dialogue could ever render.

8. The Revenant (2015)

An achievement of pure cinematic insanity. I still have no idea how they got some of these shots. A brutal, thrilling story of survival among nature’s cruelty. Inarritu’s camera is like magic in this film, uncovering the previously thought not possible.

9. La La Land (2016)

A reinvention of a genre that somehow manages to have its cake and eat it too: a nostalgia trip that also subverts expectations. Right up there next to Singin’ in the Rain, in my book at least. How on earth was that only Chazelle’s second ever movie?

10. The Lighthouse (2019)

TELL ME YE FOND O ME LOBSTER! WHYD YA SPILL YOUR BEANS? IF I HAD A STEAK ID FUCK IT. That about sums it up.

11. Parasite (2019)

Bong Joon Ho has made a beautifully twisted psychological thriller that is also hilarious, touching, and a lasting commentary on class and social mobility.

12. The Florida Project (2017)

Baker’s approach of setting this story from the viewpoint of children makes it a glorious romp through a world of innocence as well as tragedy, and also makes it all the more emotionally impactful.

13. Inside Llewyn Davis (2013)

It’s all about the cat. Alongside the Coen’s mastery of dialogue and the side character, as well as the beautiful folk music, this film acts as a deeply moving portrayal of depression, and how sometimes we are our own worst enemy.

14. Moonlight (2016)

Expertly crafted. Expertly acted. Expertly shot. A gorgeously rendered coming of age story. I’m not really the person who should speak of its importance. I’ll just say: it is. Very. A movie that will stun you.

15. Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Practical! Effects! Yeah, that really is Tom Hardy swinging fifty feet off the ground on a pole as explosions go off behind him. A feminist, post-apocalypse, road trip movie brought to you by the director of Happy Feet and Babe 2. What more could you want?

16. Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

A wonderful celebration of childhood and of fantasy. Anderson crafts a world you want to return to again and again. Anyone else get jump scared when they realized Lucas Hedges was in this???

17. Arrival (2016)

I love Denis Villeneuve’s films for so many reasons. The most important I think is that he balances entertainment and artistic depth so well. Like all great scifi Arrival is not really about aliens, it’s about us.

18. Inception (2010)

A film that runs on all cyclinders. Smart, funny, jaw dropping, just plain fun. Nolan manages to build some surprisingly moving moments as well.

19. Gone Girl (2014)

Ah Fincher and his twists. Rosemund Pike at the top of her game. Ross and Reznor return with another gripping score. Around the narrative, Fincher creates a fascinating portrayal of the media and marriage, one with endless twists and turns. You never quite know where it’s headed.

20. Sicario (2015)

A second thing I love about Dennis Villeneuve: he does point of view characters better than anyone else.

21. Enemy (2014)

A third thing I love about Dennis Villeneuve: he plays with genre and narrative structure unlike anyone else working right now.

22. Incendies (2010)

A fourth thing I love about Denis Villeneuve: he’s given us some of the best female lead characters this decade.

23. Blade Runner 2049 (2017)

A fifth thing I love about Denis Villeneuve: he somehow managed make a Blade Runner sequel work. Here’s hoping for Dune.

24. The Look of Silence (2014)

The companion film of The Act of Killing. Oppenheimer does it again, this time focusing more on the victims of the genocide. Groundbreaking cinema.

25. Shame (2011)

Slow clap for Michael Fassbender. Slow clap for Carey Mulligan. Slow clap for Steven Mcqueen.

26. Hereditary (2018)

Using horror to examine mental illness and family trauma. Aster has made a new classic of genre, taking it to new heights.

27. Under The Skin (2014)

How to make a movie about an alien descended onto earth in order to capture men and engulf them in her weird black room of goo? Make a very alienation movie. Chilling. Otherworldly. Haunting.

28. Son of Saul (2015)

In making any holocaust film there’s always the risk of feeling exploitative. Nemes’s radical camera work, focusing almost entirely on the main character’s face in close up leaves this concern in the dust. The horrors enter only at the corners of the frame, while humanity is firmly centered the whole time. An important film everyone should see.

29. Whiplash (2014)

As visceral and heart pounding as the solos performed, the film as a whole is a perfectly made portrait of a obsession.

30. Amour (2012)

Haneke takes his unforgiving approach and lays bare a topic with incredible emotional depth. The result is deeply moving without ever being sentimental. I’m hard pressed to find another film about old age that is this poignant.

31. Birdman (2014)

A whirlwind of a film. A high wire act. The long takes turn it into something more akin to a play. A pretty damn good one at that.

32. Once Upon A Time In Anatolia (2011)

What’s Chekhov doing in the 21st Century? He’s in Turkey. He name is Nuri Ceylan.

33. The Favourite (2018)

Lanthimos turns down his style and turns up his humor. The result is the best of both worlds: a dark, twisted tale of power and a hilarious parody of monarchy and British costume drama.

34. Phantom Thread (2018)

PTA delivers again. What could easily have been another tired tale of the obsessive artist and the woman behind him is instead a fairy tale-ish ensnaring of two people’s ineffable pull towards each other.

35. A Hidden Life (2019)

Still fresh in my mind. Malick’s late style is given the backbone it needed in the form of a relevant tale of resistance and struggle. A meditative, prayer-like film about the power of belief.

36. Prisoners (2013)

A sixth thing I love about Denis Villeneuve: his movies have layers, but only if you look. Otherwise, the ride is pretty great as well.

37. Manchester By The Sea (2016)

A masterclass in doing less with more.

38. Foxcatcher (2014)

Bennett Miller does biopics unlike anyone else. That is to say, maybe better than anyone else working today.

39. The Witch (2015)

Eggers’s first foray into historical New England horror. A chilling commentary on the evils of puritanism.

40. The Kid With A Bike (2011)

The Dardenne brothers managed to make a gut-wrenching tale of childhood, masculinity, abandonment, the power of empathy, belonging, and redemption in 84 minutes. Here’s a suggestion. Watch this movie. Then watch it again. A better use of the same amount of time it takes to sit through The Irishman. Oh wait, no you still have 30 minutes left over.

#movies #top10 #decade list #movies list #2010s cinema

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candlefright · 4 years

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The Exorcist III

I have dreams of a rose, and falling down a long flight of steps...

The Exorcist was one of the films that haunted my childhood when I was years younger. Every Halloween without fail, this film would turn up in the DVD player somehow. Resurrected on stormy nights and called back from the other side when life gets a little too safe. William Blatty’s classic has the ability to creep into sacred spaces and pervert them with something unknown and hellacious.

At twenty-eight years of age, I am finally taking a step outside of that original, shocking experience- and stretching my clammy hands over what I have read is the more respectable sequel to the film, The Exorcist III.

The Exorcist II: The Heretic wasn’t written by William Blatty, but instead by John Boorman, whose filmography seems scattered amongst a plethora of genres; his most notable titles falling back into the early 60′s. While the original Exorcist and The Exorcist III both belong within the predictably magical hands of William. Although William Friedkin directed the original, harrowing film, William Blatty’s directorial talents show that he is not only a man who can write; but a man who has always known exactly how to execute his stories.

Please be advised that reading further will result in potential spoilers for the film listed in title: so if you haven’t seen The Exorcist III; come back when you have, or abandon all hope, ye who enter here...

The film begins authentically. You’re reintroduced to that spine-tingling theme and before you know it, a strange voice welcomes you back into the story by rehashing the death of Damien Karras, the original protagonist of the Exorcist story, who met an untimely end after having exorcised Reagan.

Lt. William F. Kinderman (played by actor George C. Scott) is our primary focus, now. The movie seems to orbit around the reemergence of a serial killer going by the name of Gemini, or at the very least, a copycat of said killer (which is what Lt. William is adamant to believe). What follows are a series of events that slowly draw Lt. Kinderman back into the presence of an unhinged Damien Karras, who is, of course, possessed by the evil spirit of the Gemini killer, James Venamun. When James, through Damien- demands to be seen for his “artful” work, Lt. Kinderman refuses, and of course, things escalate.

The beauty of this film is not surprising. Like the original, The Exorcist III is filled with beautiful, stylish shots. One of my favorite scenes, where Lt. Kinderman experiences his dream sequence, is full of beautifully framed metaphors and nuances.

Outside of the gorgeous cinematography, the story for this film is compelling and paced very well. You come to know Lt. Kinderman much better, I think, than you did in the original film (Kinderman played by Lee J. Cobb, who passed away in ‘76, just three years after its release.)

Lt. Kinderman presents as a stoic, intelligent, but hard-pressed man whose mercurial spurts of rage complement the thematic escalation of the story. You get the pleasure of watching a highly reasonable man flounder and stumble down the steps of madness, drawn by the candlelight flicker of vengeance as it rushes ahead of him, but is constantly roadblocked by his own denial. He is spurred on by the death of his good friend, Father Joseph Dyer (played by Ed Flanders), but repelled by the speculation that he may be up against more than a madman.

Where The Exorcist embraced the unknown and made it real by validating its existence from the start, The Exorcist III smolders with unsettling imagery and atmosphere; atmosphere the protagonist refuses to entertain, at first. You watch as Kinderman walks into darkly lit churches, his eternally speculative face teetering on the edge of disturbed before reason creeps back in through lesser roles (a girl showing up out of nowhere, questioning the state of the lights, only for them to flicker back on). As tension builds, you wait with bated breath and in the hopes that each new instance will be the event that shows Lt. Kinderman what you already know as the viewer: there be demons afoot.

Speaking of demons, let me introduce you to my favorite part of this entire movie: the Gemini Killer, James Venamun. Now, if you know One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, or Child’s Play, you know Brad Dourif. I was familiar with him as the voice of that tiny plastic freak in Child’s Play and as Billy Bibbit in OFOCN, however; this is by far his best performance I have ever seen. His portrayal of an unhinged maniac is fully showcased by beautifully unsettling monologues.

Damien Karras’ face fades into shadow and James Venamun splits the darkness with his darkly angelic face cutting like blades into Lt. Kinderman. I was genuinely chilled to my marrow during his first monologue, and found myself re-winding and going back just to catch more of the minute details in his behavior as he spoke.

Can you see it? Maybe not, but James’ perpetually tearful eyes sparkle in the dark while he speaks. You can see the fluid shake against his eyelids and threaten to spill over as his mouth twists petulantly over plights to be recognized for who he is. He cycles through an array of tonal shifts from cryptic laughter to booming rage, to high and sneering and belittling, all while pushing the restraint of Lt. Kinderman as he describes in great detail the death of one of his good friends. Watching Kinderman break to unload a heavy slap on his cheek peaks the tension and leaves you damn near shaking. I cannot praise this performance enough, I will be painting his name along the lobes of my grey matter for the rest of my journey.

This film, like the original, builds suspense by syncopating your thrills. You’re tied up in following Lt. Kinderman at his pace while he fouls up the pieces of the puzzle with his disbelief in the unknown. Important scenes are followed by brief interludes of equally tense and unpredictable moments that accentuate the slow deterioration of reason within the film.

One of my favorite scenes leaves you suspended for what feels like a century as you watch the main hallway of the hospital, lead into a false sense of respite before the fright comes back to remind you: there be demons afoot.

What makes the breaking scenes so great is their ability to cause discomfort without going too far and distracting from the real plot. Small ripples make huge waves that drench you in goosebumps and blast you with a cold wind. It really is the subtlety that makes the scares in this film that much more lethal.

Blatty directs the way he writes, by whispering rather than shouting. He draws you into the film with the details and uses shock as his red paintbrush. You lean in to hear Lt. Kinderman mutter his lines, you jump back when the silver corpse shears come out.

You don’t get to watch the entitled film without witnessing at least one attempted exorcism. A priest with a vow to avenge his whitened hair (not really but lol) stomps into the hospital to battle the Pazuzu-fueled Venamun/Karras with what you can expect are pretty laughable results. Watching that scene made me wanna scrape a burger off the grill.

The ending of the film rocks with the thunder of Scott’s venomous self-righteousness, thunder, and the rise of hell itself. I cannot tell you how absolutely horrifying this scene was to watch, you feel smote by light and mortified by the silhouettes rising out of it. As sacred as children tend to be in terms of horror, Blatty stomps you into submission by showing you that nothing is sacred in his realm.

This was a fantastic start to the beginning of this blog. I can’t guarantee that all of my posts moving forward will be as long, but this one just has so much to appreciate. This one is definitely going up there with the rest of my favorites.

Rating: 5/5

#horror #blogging #movies #exorcist #the exorcist 3 #fun

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wordssplatteredoncement · 4 years

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The Room is a Strange Place

Everybody has a back pocket story or two. You know the kind? The tales you pull out of your ass when trying to impress, or just entertain. I’ve divulged a couple of those cherished stories (on this very blog) over the years. I implore you to scroll a bit if you want to read about a physical altercation with a “pimp” on the Las Vegas strip or night spent with a close friend, two upset stomachs, a backed-up hotel tonight, and the culmination leading to several homeless people watching me shit in a public restroom. This story isn’t as grandiose, so I don’t want to over-hype it, but it does make me laugh every time I think about/ tell it and, I don’t know about you, I could use some laughter. Shall we proceed?

My brother and I have an unhealthy obsession with awful films. I’m not sure how it started, but we’ve always found a great deal of humor in horrible flicks. For as long as I can remember, he and I have gathered around a television set for hours watching countless “how on earth did someone create this?” movies. Our love of rancid cinema has extended to our close friends in the form of “So Bad, It’s Good” movie nights. We lure our loved ones in with the promise of as much booze, candy, and popcorn they can handle, and subject them to this perverse passion for terrible acting, cinematography, writing, lighting, set design, etc. We’re constantly in search of the next pile of trash to give an excuse to transform our living room into a shitty version of Mystery Science Theater 3000. There are some who long for the next Avengers and, while I will watch that, these bad movies speak more to my sensibilities.

In the mid-2000′s there were rumblings that a new champion had taken the crown for worst flick ever made. The internet was ablaze with this laughably bad, nonsensical movie that was only showing in Los Angeles. The movie was titled “The Room” and it was written, produced, and starring a man I’d never heard of before, Tommy Wiseau. Not one to torrent, I spent the next few evenings learning everything I could about this film. Each review, both those that were in on this being a god-awful blunder, and those that, seemingly, weren’t hip to the fact that this was largely considered the Citizen Kane of abhorrent films, made me salivate at the chance of getting my hands on this piece of substandard pop culture. While the reviews were enough for me to know this was a “must-see” it was the interviews with the man behind it all himself, Tommy Wiseau, that drove my desire to see this film. His cadence, accent, mannerisms, look, laughter.. everything about the man just leapt out as a truly original cat. I became just as intrigued about the man behind the film, as I did about the motion picture, itself.

Some time passes and I find myself at San Diego Comic Con, as I had many times before. For those of you uninitiated, think of San Diego Comic Con as the biggest nerd/ pop-culture orgy ever created. 120k+ plus descend upon Southern California to share their unadulterated love of movies, television, toys, and yes, comics. I went with someone who was newly christened my ex-girlfriend, thinking we could just work through things, as we’d each spent a great deal of money on the trip prior to the break up. This was a mistake. We were at each other’s throats more than a vampire at a hydra gathering. That is to say, any second away from her was more than welcomed. When she informed me that she wanted to take a nap, I used this time as a breath of fresh air (as fresh as can be in a sea of people who don’t treat personal hygiene as a top priority, that is). I hit the convention floor, in seek of an autograph of the creator of Invader Zim, Jhonen Vasquez. I’m weaving through the convention hall, when I see the man I’d become infatuated with... Tommy Wiseau. “Hey kid (I’m in my mid-late twenties at this point, mind you), you wanna buy a movie?” Without hesitation, I fired back “FUCK YEAH I DO!! How much?” This is when things got a little weird.. or Wiseau..

“For my biggest fan? Ten dollars.”, Mr. Wiseau said. “Biggest fan? He randomly stopped me, and I haven’t even seen this movie.”, I thought, but didn’t say a word, only reached for my wallet. I handed him a sweaty $10 bill, he goes to hand me the film, but reels back a second. “Do you want me to sign it?”, he asked. “Yes, please!!”, I fired back. Tommy pulled out a pin, started murmuring something, then signed my DVD. “Do you want GREH (he was saying “Greg”, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying through his accent) to sign it?” I didn’t know who “GREH” (I later found out this was Greg Sestero, another star of the film and inspiration for the movie) was, but sure, why not? As I awaited my newly autographed copy of my most anticipated movie of that year, Tommy chimed in again. “Would you like a soundtrack?”. “Um, how much?”, I cautiously treaded. “For my biggest fan? Are you kidding me? It free for you.” Genuinely creeped out, I said “Sure”. Tommy then turns and screams at a child no older than 7 to fetch me a soundtrack. The kid scurried off out of sight, leaving me with me with Tommy and “GREH”. A couple of minutes passed before the youngster returned, without soundtrack in hand. “WHERE IS THE SOUNDTRACK!?”, Tommy bellowed. “We’re all out.”, squeaked the kid. “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS IN FRONT OF MY BIGGEST FAN!?!”, Wiseau roared, then turned and asked me, “I’m so sorry. Would you like a t-shirt?”. “Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want to be any trouble.”, I said in genuine fear. “No trouble at all. GO GET HIM A SHIRT!!”, he screamed at the minor. “It’s really no problem at all for my biggest fan”, Tommy reiterated as he put me in a vice-like headlock. So there I am, in a Wiseau-headlock, standing next to “Greh”, when I notice something. There is a line of dozens of people, all holding copies of The Room, waiting to get their movies signed. In front of them, is a woman holding a sign that states “The Room: Front of the line”. Being a Comic-Con veteran, I realized these people were there to meet this man I stumbled across, had spent several minutes with, and was now awaiting a free shirt while in a wrestling hold by the man they were trying to meet. The daggers that were cast from the looks of those waiting in line would have killed me, if Tommy’s anaconda-like grip on my neck didn’t first. When the child reemerged, he handed me a shirt. I thanked the child, Tommy, “Greh”, and said my goodbyes. “Thanks for being my biggest fan. HAHAHAHAHA!!” I could hear Wiseau wail across the throng of nerds.

And there it is, my story of a strange encounter with a bizarre man who made one of Hollywood’s worst. I love The Room. I’m not entirely sure if I love it purely because of how bad it is, or have an affection for it due to the aforementioned meeting with the people who created it. Either way, it goes down as one of my favorite celebrity encounter moments and genuinely a film I watch more than those that make my “favorite film” list. It’s a movie I’ve subjected several friends victims to, and one that I can’t wait to put others through. That moment in time, and the flick itself, is a constant reminder, that even when life hands you lemons, you can always chuck them at somebody.

#wordssplatteredoncement #theroom #tommywiseau #badmovies #badcinema #sobaditsgood #movies #blog

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