#({Portray WELL} Which is what I INTENDED to do but mAN I HAD LIMITED FOOTAGES-- so I had to MAKE DO with what I HAD {+Reused some s IGH..})

[koushirouizumi]

{YU-GI-OH!} Duel Monsters ~ @.M.V ~ Y U U G I & {Ace-implied!}Y A M I {A t e m} [reading in {+A R O!}-Ace!Yami is also Fine] {Just please respect my own head-canons too!} ~ "Taking Over Me"

Summary: "You saw me M o u r n i n g my {xxxx} for YOU, and T O U C H E D MY H A N D..."

"...Just to F I N D Y O U--"

Music © E.v.a.n.e.s.e.n.c.e/Amy L e e

Spoiler Info: -Leads up to End of “DOMA” Arc's Y U U G I & Y A M I Duel {Anime-Only sequences; not included in original manga} -{Mainly} D.M. Only Eps -A single clip from the original 1st series opens it, but nothing else from it is included.

*Any Lip-sync'ng was unintentional {+Any similar Might be removed in any future remake}

Y U-G I-O H! © Kazuki Takahashi Y U-G I - O H! 1st Series {Show} © Toei Y u-g i-o h! Duel Monsters {Show} © Studio Gallop This is a FAN-WORK. No $$$ is being made off this work.

{@.M.V. by (Young) Me} {DO NOT RE-POST} {DO NOT COPY} {DO NOT RE-PRODUCE MY WORKS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION}

(Note: This is an OLD work {10+ yrs old}. and one of my last YGO D. M. ones of the timeframe; however, it was still very early on in my making of these type of work's when I finished this. The footage used will reflect this, as it was made before widespread transition into H.D. Footages. Please be understanding.) [There may be intent for me to remake it someday!]

Note: -This video’s embed may randomly not display at times, Showing like it’s “down”, but it’s not at this time! {It usually happens late at night[s] or seemingly when Tumblr and/or Vimeo is experiencing very high traffic} If that happens, please consider watching the Direct link here!

{I am NOT taking new Requests [or making changes to this one] (+for this series) at this time. Please DO NOT Ask!}

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth

Warnings: noncon sex (oral, m&f, intercourse)

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is a fic writer and her number one fan can’t get enough.

Note: This is probably the most meta shit I’ve written but for all the fic writers out there, this one if for you. Hope y’all get the good d you deserve but until then, here’s this!

Please let me know what you think in a reblog/reply! <3 please and thank you.

You let out a sigh of relief and hit ‘post’. It was almost pathetic but it was the best part of your day, or most days. Having something to share with others was nice. The fact that they enjoyed your work and your boredom-induced work made it worth the frustration. 

It wasn’t real writing. You knew that. Fanfiction was a genre to be laughed at. You didn’t admit it to anyone but there was a sense of pride to go along with the shame. 

That part of you was kept online. The darker parts; the lust, the angst, the fear. It all went hand in hand and no one would guess that the bookshop assistant was stevies-doll. It felt almost scandalous to have a virtual alter ego.

You closed your laptop and checked the time. More than enough to get ready for work. Plain blouse, grey pants, mary jane flats. You were the typical bookish girl with dreams that would never come true. 

The bus was late. Oh well. You’d still be there in time you’d just have to forego your usual espresso. Afternoons were draining and you often needed the boost to keep from nodding off in the last hour. You really weren’t sure why the shop stayed open so late; not many came out after five for books but traffic was relatively steady in the hipster village.

Nina met you with a frown. She preferred you at least ten minutes earlier. Tardiness had seen several other clerks fired and you had been the only to make it more than a year in the shop. Three in fact. This place was like a second home. A garden of ideas to plant the seeds of your mind.

When Nina left, you rearranged the desk. You moved aside her ledger and replaced it with your notebook, two pens to the right of it. In between the chime of the door and the rare customer queries you did most of your writing. When you reached a block you’d read, but today you felt particularly inspired.

The world was saved again. The news reports had shown footage of the daring rescue. As grim as the situation was, you couldn’t help but fantasize. The first avenger with his golden hair and sharp jawline was every woman’s Adonis. At least, you thought he was the very picture of perfection.

It wasn’t obsession. That was your mantra. You often argued with yourself. As much as you thought of the great Steve Rogers, it was only admiration. It wasn’t the possessive infatuation often found on social media. It was a hobby. An escape from the world. 

You bent over the notebook. The shop was empty. The dulcet tones of indie folk floated along the shelves. You set pen to paper and waited for the ring to draw you away from the world behind your eyes. 

You leaned on the counter and scribbled the first line in ink. That was always the hardest part. Then again, the beginning was always more exciting than the end.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

-

It was amusing at first. The thought of another person spending so much time writing about him. That someone would fabricate an entire universe in which he was entirely different. Somewhere out there was a woman who wore the pseudonym ‘stevies-doll’.

Steve knew he should have been perturbed by the fact. The idea of another so consumed by him that they would post almost every other day about him. He couldn’t remember how he stumbled on the small blog. A decent following but nothing close to viral. 

The first story he read was cute. It even made him feel warm. The second was very much the same. He clicked through to another, this one more serious. Grey and daunting. A few more and he stumbled upon one he found most interesting, the letters NSFW emblazoned across the top. He googled the acronym and clicked back to the tab. Excited almost.

When he finished, he was warm in another way. Hot, almost. The things he read, the idea of him doing them, was almost arousing. Of course, he had never done any of it. Had never been more than the perfect gentlemen. Sweet and doting. That was how love should be. But that wasn’t love, no, that story was sex. Pure, unadulterated fucking.

He forced himself away from the computer after that. He needed to sleep. He had intended to browse his email quickly but he often found himself in the oddest rabbit-holes. That was definitely the deepest. He shook his head and chuckled. It was funny.

The next morning he awoke and went about his usual routine. He was out the door by seven. Off to save the world. Or wait around for it to need saving. At Stark Tower, he listened to Tony with his eyes on his phone. It wasn’t anything important. Some recounting about how he had scared Pepper with a nano-spider. 

Steve gave a half-hearted chuckle and Tony went back to his screen. “Tough audience,” He muttered to Bruce who merely shook his head.

Steve leaned against a stool and squinted at his phone. He stared at the google search. Why had he typed it in? Somewhere in the tedium of Tony’s chatter, he had keyed in the name. He hit the first link and his phone loaded slowly. 

His own face stared back at him. The banner was a press photo he had taken over a year ago. His bright eyes were staunch beneath the mask as he stared off into the distance. She had posted again. His thumb hovered over ‘read more’. Did he dare? 

He looked up to make sure he was not being observed. The two scientists were too distracted to care about his online activity. He stood straight and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna hit the gym,” He lied. A grumble from both scientists as they squinted at the floating screens. “Right, have fun.” Steve said dryly as he left them to their work.

He stepped out in the hall and pressed his thumb to the screen. He bent his head over the phone as he walked blindly down the halls. Neither Tony or Bruce noticed through the window that he had gone entirely the wrong way. Steve didn’t either as his eyes flitted over the screen.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

-

You couldn’t believe how much your blog had grown in the last few months. You didn’t know if it betrayed your unexciting life or your one-track mind. Both, maybe. But it made your everyday responsibilities a little less tedious.

And the messages were even better than the hit count. Several had messaged to say they loved your work and went so far as to call you an inspiration. It was flattering but it was easy to remember who you were. No Stephen King or JK Rowling. You wrote silly one shots with limited development. 

Today your inbox had been steady. Every time you found yourself bored at work, you opened the app and you had another message. Most of them short or even just emojis but nice nonetheless. And there was one you were waiting to answer

So long and in depth you had to give it more than just a thanks. You opened it several times and reread it.

‘Your story is really interesting. I think the way your portray Steve is believable. In this type of writing you rarely find anything realistic but your writing feels genuine if not entirely accurate. I would say you capture the essence of Steve perfectly and his actions at least make sense.

I always enjoy your updates and even look forward to them...especially the NSFW ones. ;)’

It was one of the few users who didn't use the anonymous feature and also left a complete comment. It was refreshing and you had come to look forward to their commentary. They went by CapUSA. Another Steve fangirl who was surprisingly inactive outside your blog. Her page was almost a clone of your own. They liked every post, reblogged, and commented. What more could a writer ask for?

Original characters maybe and not just fantasies of someone who’d never know of her existence. You closed your laptop and sighed. It felt like time. You could feel the block at the back of your head. The little thrill you got was wearing off and it felt like a phase better left to fade with your emo days in high school and that month in university when you dyed your hair purple.

You readied for work. Back on days that week. Opening was always easier. It didn’t feel so drawn out. Nina would be in at one and you’d keep her company until four. It meant little time for writing. Maybe that was for the better. You needed to start planning. For the future. For something truly your own. A fantasy so detached from reality that it would make market and maybe even a dime.

That was your dream. You didn’t want to be the listless fangirl forever. Ugh, how you hated to even call yourself a fangirl. No post today, you resigned. Maybe none tomorrow. You’d have to work up the courage to announce your hiatus. Life was calling and for once a sliver of genuine inspiration. 

And the bookstore. It was Shakespeare’s birthday, which conveniently was also his death day. This meant two for one on all of his works. Nina also  hired actors to stand outside the shop and re-enact famous scene from the playwright’s repertoire. They wouldn’t arrive till noon but you had a lot of set-up to do. Enough to keep you from thinking of the disappointed messages that would fill your inbox.

-

Steve scrolled through the pale pink blog for the dozenth time that morning. It had been two weeks since stevies-doll posted. The longest two weeks of his life. He wasn’t sure when it had become a staple in his life. A ritual almost. He’d read her latest fic as he laid down and try to clear his head of blood and grime. Lose himself in the person she dreamed he was. The man he had come to envy. Fictional but all too real in his head.

But there was nothing. At first he re-read and read again. But that grew old. He knew almost every story by heart at this point. He could recite the intro line to most and he fell asleep as his imagination reconstructed the things he had never done. 

Her banner flashed across his sight when he woke, the image of his blue eyes staring beyond him. He’d come to think of her Steve as an altar ego. The beast buried deep inside of him. He was tired of being the nation’s golden child. Their unwavering moral beacon. He wanted to be him and she had helped him figure out who he truly was.

But she was gone. No green dot above her name in the chat window, her last post dated fourteen days ago, her blog like a time capsule. The ice that had preserved him for seventy years. Where was she?

Then a thought struck him. A devious one. He had been on enough missions to know his way around a computer. He considered himself quite savvy after living nearly a decade ahead of his time. It was simple enough. He tracked down many a drug pin this way and they were often concealed behind walls of encryption. He doubted she had more than a store-bought antivirus, if that.

He climbed out of bed and booted his computer. His leg shook impatiently and he tossed his phone just beneath the corner of the monitor. He rubbed his palms together as the home screen loaded and he clicked on the browser.

Her IP was simple enough to find. Right-click, inspect. When he found it, he felt his heart jump. This was a line. A very clear one. If he did this, there was no going back. He let go of the mouse and leaned his chin in his hands. He stared at her page, split by the window of code, and his jaw ticked.

He hit back and went to the messenger. He clicked on her name and his fingertips ran over the space bar. He didn’t know what to say. He’d send her little asks about her fics but he never messaged her directly. Would she respond?

‘Hey,’ He typed slowly, his fingers sped up with each key, ‘I’m a fan of your work. I think it’s excellent. I just wanted to check in and see if you were still writing for this blog.’

He hit enter and waited. He focused on the grey dot beside her name. If she saw this, it likely wouldn’t be until morning. He checked the time and sighed. It was late. He had an early briefing with Tony and he should try to sleep. 

He hovered the cursor over the x but the dot turned green and he paused. The little ‘...’ blipped in the bottom of the chat box and the ding of her reply was music to his ears.

‘Hey, sorry. I know I’ve been quiet lately. I’ve just been so busy with work. I’m a bit behind at the moment. Thank you though for following me. I always enjoy your comments :)’ He read it several times before he could reply. Before he could even think of the words to.

‘It’s okay. We all have responsibilities. Take your time.’ He wanted to tell her to hurry up but who knew? She might be someone important, like a lawyer or teacher. He could wait. As long as there was hope. 

‘Thanks. I appreciate that. Really.’ That response was quicker. Curt, almost.

‘I don’t want to overstep but are you okay?’ His cheeks were hot.

‘Ah, you know, life.’

He scratched his chin as he leaned back in his chair. Slowly he sat forward and typed. It took him three tries to get it right. Concerned but not pushy. ‘Anything you wanna talk about?’ He waited. The three dots appeared then faded. Several times before her answer blipped up.

‘I don’t wanna trouble you but I appreciate you asking. Nothing I won’t get over.’

‘Ok, no problem. Just know that if you need it, I could listen. It’s could to talk about stress.’ He laughed at himself. He should take his own advice. He had a horrible habit of letting things pile up until he burst at the seams.

‘Thanks again. I’ll ttyl. I gotta get some sleep. Have a good one.’

‘You, too,’ He replied a bit too quickly. ‘Talk to you then.’

-

You were ready to post again. It had been almost a month since your last fic and you had been reluctant to return. You couldn’t help checking in daily to see your notifications and scroll mindlessly through your own content. And your offline writing had come to a halt. You were stuck and you didn’t know how else to cope but fall back on what you knew.

Your new friend had helped too. CapUSA had quickly become a stalwart of your blog. She, or he, you still weren’t sure, spoke to you almost everyday. They encouraged you to try one more fic as you mulled over a certain prompt. Why not? It would be like a writing exercise. Maybe it would help you with your original writing. Take some of the pressure off.

And you didn’t just talk about writing. You talked about the bookstore and Nina’s incessant complaints. You talked about the stresses of your lives. Friends, or lack thereof. Cap seemed a popular person and recounted stories of the latest drama. A close knit group of friends who acted more like adversaries. It was amusing and made your forget that your life was rather empty.

You hit post and smiled. That familiar rush rolled over you and you snapped closed your laptop. You were already dressed and ready for work. You crammed in the quick editing session before the bus was due and now you’d have to run for it.

Back on afternoons. It was rainy and you were soaked by the time you got to the shop. The weather always helped traffic and you ducked behind the counter where Nina was tending to the line with Cara, a new addition. The curly-haired blonde reminded you of old Hollywood. Her high cheekbones and rose lips rivaled Monroe’s.

“Do you want me to start early?” You asked as you tucked your bag under the counter between them.

“You better. I’m gone in ten and Cara’s only on til three.” Nina muttered. “We got a new shipment. Boxes are at the end of the aisles. We’ve not had a chance to touch ‘em.”

“Okay, I’ll get right on it,” You pin your name tag on and stepped back around the counter. She was in one of her moods and all the better that you avoid her until she left. You went to the end of the history aisle and opened the box against the wall.

‘You working?’ The vibration drew your attention from re-arranging the non-fiction section. The message floated in a bubble on your lock screen. You smiled. This faceless stranger felt like more. Of course, virtual friendships were often fleeting.

You glanced down the aisle, both Nina and Cara were squinting at the computer as a customer waited patiently for them to figure out their conundrum. You swiped away the lock and typed swiftly with your phone hidden behind your leg. 

‘Closing. Here all night.’

‘Oh :( you got company at least?’

‘For a couple more hours. But no shortage of work. :/’

‘Damn. Should I leave you alone?’

‘Up to you. My responses might be sporadic. Boss isn’t very pleasant today.’

‘Cool. I just read your new fic.’ 

‘Yeah? Sorry I haven’t checked my notifications just yet.’

‘No problem. I left a comment is all.’

‘What are you up to?’

‘Taking a break from driving. I should actually get back to it. It’s a long trip.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To see a friend.’

‘Ah, ok. Well, drive safe.’

‘I will ;) See ya later.’

‘ttyl :)’

-

‘Nina’s Nook’. Steve read the crooked moniker several times over. He couldn’t believe he was actually there. That she was inside. He made good time on the road. An eight hour trip in six. Of course, he hadn’t exactly abided the speed limit. His impatience had turned to recklessness. So unlike him.

The sky was dim. The summer nights came later and later. She’d be done in an hour. The streets were dying down and the door hadn’t chimed in almost as long. He felt nervous all of a sudden. He tried to shrug of his anxiety and took a breath. 

She wouldn’t know it was him. Well, she might recognize him but she wouldn’t know he was CapUSA. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction. Steve Rogers in her bookshop. In this town. It would be a story she would recount for the rest of her life. An encounter she would never forget. 

Oh, he’d make sure she remembered it.

He crossed the street. A single car passed as he stepped up on the curb. It was much quieter than New York. No honking, no shouts, no hissing sewers. He liked it. It was quaint. He stood before the door and peeked through the glass. There was no one behind the desk. But the sign read open and the lights shone in welcome.

He pushed down the handle and slowly opened the door. The bell announced his entrance and a small voice called from the corner of the shop. “One moment, please.” He heard the shuffle of books and light footsteps. She emerged from the far shelves and his lips parted at the sight of her.

He had seen her before. Her few photos on Facebook and Instagram. He had found those shortly after he ferreted out her IP. He couldn’t see much but her privacy settings allowed him a glimpse into her real life. Her smile was nicer than in her pictures. 

“Sorry, I was--” She stopped short as she saw him. She blinked. He closed his mouth as hers fell open. Her voice was higher when she spoke next. “I was just sorting some stuff out. I--How can I help you?”

“Um, a friend recommended a book to me and I was passing by, I thought maybe by chance… you might have it.” He kept his voice even. The same one he used for his press conferences.

“Do you have a title?” She asked. He could see her fingers tremble. The guilt as her eyes rounded. She was thinking of all the things she had wrote about him. He was thinking of those too.

“Jeez, you know, I’ve totally forgotten but the author was, uh…” He pretended to think and his eyes drifted down her body. Her flowered blouse was boxy but her pants hugged the curves of her hips and legs. She clasped her hands together and the gesture pushed her chest together between her arms. “Margaret Archer--er, Atwood.”

“Hmm, she’s done a lot. Do you know what it’s about?” She pulled her hands apart and wiped her palms on her dark pants. His eyes followed the movement. He wanted his hands there. Wanted to feel her thighs against him.

“Something about an apocalypse...um, a character named...Snow--Snow something.” He acted like he coudn’t remember. Couldn’t recall that it was stevies-doll who had recommended the very book. 

“Oh, Oryx and Crake, I think it is. It’s an interesting one.” She smiled, proud to have figured out the riddle. “If you will, it should be with our most popular books.”

She hesitated as she passed him. He followed her as she went to the shelf just beside the counter. She hovered her finger before the titles as she read them. She bent as she got lower. He admired her ass as she did. He tucked his hands in his pocket before he could reach out.

“Yeah, I think it’s in sci-fi.” She stood and peeked over her shoulder. “It’s just over here.” She led him down the narrow aisle to the end. “Starts just here so Atwood…” She scanned the shelf, “Here.” She pulled out the book and held it out to him. “We have it in hardcover too.”

He took it and felt the raised letters on the cover. “Thanks.” He didn’t even acknowledge the book in his hand. The aisle was so tight she was trapped between him and the wall. She gave a sheepish smile and he turned to press his back to the shelf. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

She nodded and squeezed past him. Her chest brushed against his torso and she pretended not to notice. Once past him, she cleared her throat. “If you need any help, I’ll be up front.” She turned before he could respond and her watched her go. He never would’ve guessed the mousy shop assistant would have such a lurid imagination.

-

You were in disbelief. It couldn’t be. Steve Rogers in your book shop? No, you were dreaming. Or was it a nightmare? Oh god, why had you written all that stuff? You needed to delete. Now. You could hear him. The floor creaked as he moved slowly down the aisle. You hoped he would’ve taken the book and gone. The longer he stayed, the worse you felt. Your cheeks were on fire.

Your phone vibrated. You swiped the screen and found a new message from CapUSA. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. You should just pretend you didn’t see it. You unlocked the phone and read the message.

‘Hey, how’s work?’

‘It’s fine.’ You answered. What could you say? Who would believe that Steve Rogers had walked in your door?

‘I just was thinking about your last fic.’

‘Oh yeah?’ You peeked over at the far aisle. The floor no longer whined with his weight.

‘Yeah, I’d love to re-enact the last scene.’

‘Sorry?’ You sent the message and it went unanswered. ‘I don’t get it. What do you mean?’

‘The one with the girl on her knees. Begging to be fucked.’

‘Okay? I still don’t understand.’ Your heart jumped. This was really weird.

‘Or maybe and I could fuck you on that counter you’re standing behind.’

You hit close and locked the phone. You dropped it and looked around the shop. You rushed out from behind the counter and glanced out the window. You turned the latch and the floorboards groaned. You turned and pressed yourself to the door. You forgot he was there. 

How could you forget something like that?

“Sorry, uh, we’re closing up,” You felt around for the lock, “I was just--”

“That’s okay. I think I’m just about done.” He slapped the book against his palm and placed it on the corner of the counter. He set his phone on top of it with a flourish. “Why don’t you flip the sign and we can get started.”

“What are you--”

“Do you prefer I call you by your real name or stevies-doll?” He leaned against the counter and smirked. “Or I can just call you doll. I know you like that.”

“No,” You exhaled shakily, “Y-you can’t be…”

“You’re not happy to see me?” He asked. He didn’t sound like the hero you saw on the news. Barely looked like him now. His pupils dilated to darken his blue eyes and the shadows of the shop cast his face in sinister tones. “You can call me Stevie if you like.”

“I...What I wrote, it was just...” You spluttered. “I’m s-sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” He pushed himself away from the counter. “I’m not mad. Intrigued really.”

He stepped closer and your ears pounded as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. You turned and fumbled with the lock. The door opened an inch before his hand slammed it shut again. He easily flipped the lock back into place and spun the sign with a flick of his thumb. 

“You can close early and we can have some fun...maybe inspire a new fic.” His arm was around your waist and you grabbed onto his thick wrist.

“They’re just stories.” You kicked as he pulled you away from the door. He tugged the blind down over the window. “Stupid fantasies.”

“Well, consider this a dream come true, doll,” He spun and let you go. You collided with the desk and gasped as the air was knocked from your lungs. “I think you remember this scene.”

“What do you want?” You clung to the desk as you turned to him. 

“You know, I’m everything people think I am. Straight-laced, valiant, boring.” He planted his feet and stared you down. “Or was...until I found your blog.” His tongue ran across his bottom lip. “It gets lonely on the road. At first, your blog was like a secret companion. It gave me something to look forward to but then it made me think. So many things I never even knew I was missing out on.”

“Please, I don’t know what you want from me,” Your voice cracked. Your fear surged and left you shaking against the counter.

“I want…” He tilted his head and his eyes flashed, “You.” He paused and pushed his shoulders back. “On your knees.” Your eyes rounded, “Oh yes,” He raised a finger, “Naked.”

You stared at him. You were frozen in place. The counter your only support from melting into a puddle. His nostrils flared as he exhaled; long and drawn out. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He snarled and his hand balled into a fist.

You gulped and held yourself with one hand against the counter as you bent to unlace your oxfords. You kicked them off with your socks and mustered your strength. You stood on your own and unbuttoned your shirt. You kept your eyes on the aged carpet stretched across the hardwood.

You dropped the blouse onto your shoes and unzipped your fly. The wool trousers slid halfway down without help and you untangled your legs from them. You added them to the heap and stood straight.

“Look at me,” Steve ordered. Your eyes snapped over to him. “Good.” You reached back and he raised a hand. “Stop...I wanna do it.”

He waved you forward and slowly you stepped away from the counter. He bared his palm in a gesture for you to halt and you hung your head. “Eyes up.” He corrected as he came closer. He walked around you and stopped just behind you.

His thick fingers touched the band of your bra and ran along it until they met at the hooks. He carefully unclasped it and the cups fell loose. He tickled your arms as he pushed the straps down them. He took it and flung it away from him. His hands came up to cup your tits and he pushed himself flush to your back.

“You always wrote so vividly of me but...I never knew how beautiful you truly were...how good you feel.” He squeezed and slowly lowered his hands. He dragged them to the side of your panties and slipped his fingers beneath the elastic. He bent as he guided the panties down your legs. “God, that ass.”

You shivered and his hands cradled your ass. He ran his rough palms along your cheeks and up your back. They settled on your shoulders and he pushed down firmly. “On your knees.”

He stepped back and you unsteadily got to your knees. He walked another circle around you. You could hear his dusky breaths. Glimpsed how his hand ran over the front of his jeans. 

“Now ask, like a good girl,” He stopped before you and stared down with a smirk. “Go on, doll, I know you want it.”

You closed your eyes and swallowed. You grit your teeth and gather what was left of your wits. A story. That’s all this was. The letters could be backspaced and no one would know better of it. 

“Please,” You recalled the last scene you had posted. The tingle which had flowed through you as you hit the button. What had she said? You opened your eyes. “Please, I want to...I want to make you happy.” You shuddered as the words whisked from you. “Can I?”

“Can you...what?” He taunted.

“Can I suck your dick?” It was barely a whisper. 

“Oh, well, since you asked so nicely,” His hands were on his belt as he spoke. “But I have a different scene in mind for tonight. A new one.” He unbuckled his belt and cracked his neck. “I want you on the counter. On your back.”

You made to stand and his hand went to your head. He held you down. 

“Crawl.”

You weakly dropped forward and turned. You crawled on hands and knees as he followed, stopping just in front of the desk as you followed his pointed finger to the other side. You stood and lifted yourself onto the counter and laid on your back. He guided your head over the side as he pulled you close and his hands found your tits again. He tweaked your hard nipples and you bit your lip.

He rescinded his hands and finished unzipping his pants. You tried not to watch as he pushed his pants down, his briefs too. The blur focused and you gaped at the size of him. He gripped himself and you snapped your mouth shut. He grabbed your chin and squeezed.

“Now, now, don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted,” He pressed his cock to your mouth and you were forced to open as his fingers threatened to crush your jaw.

He slid inside and your gasp was stifled as he met the back of your throat. He forced himself further and you threw your arms out. A clatter of books and papers as you swept them off the counter. He lingered at his limit and wiggled his hips. You arched your back as you choked and he grabbed your tit, kneading it as he slowly pulled out.

He pushed back in just as you gulped down air and you writhed atop the desk. He thrust in and out of your mouth. You gagged and groaned. The noises only fueled his fervour and he sunk in over and over until your head pulsed. The spit smeared around your lips and his balls.

He pulled back and slammed back in suddenly. His motion slowed as he came. He grunted, his breaths stuttered by the staggered rock of his pelvis. You clawed at the counter top and kicked until you could breathe again.

He slipped his cock from between your lips and his cum leaked from your mouth. You sat up and coughed. His hands were on your shoulders again. His fingers danced along your throat as if to ease your struggles.

“Come on, that’s just the first act,” He drew away and you glanced over your shoulder. “Turn around.” 

You turned on the desk and he pulled your legs over the edge. He pushed your knees apart and stepped back to admire the view. You dug your nails into the lip of the counter to keep yourself from closing your legs.

“I know you’ve been dying to see this,” He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head. 

His cock hung out of his pants. It twitched as he tossed his shirt at you. You caught it. It smelled like him. He shoved his pants down without pause and he hardened again. You dropped his shirt and looked away guiltily. 

Had you not written this scene a dozen times over?

He was completely naked when you looked again. He came close, his hands on your knees as he knelt before you. You tried to pull your legs together but he held them apart. He shook his head and tutted. 

“Just sit back and enjoy,” He licked his lips. “Trust me, it’s better than you could ever imagine.”

Your shock took over completely. You watched as he bowed his head and you felt his hot breath on your thighs. When his tongue met your pussy you gasped. He delved between your folds and swirled around your clit. Your nails went deeper into the wood and your thighs shook. It felt good. It shouldn’t, though.

He buried his face deeper and you watched his golden locks from above. He reached over blindly, his large hand found yours, and he guided it to the back of his head. He held it there a moment before letting go. You clung to him as he hands glided up your thighs and he framed your vee with thumb and index.

You arched your back and moaned. It was your declaration of surrender. You couldn’t resist it any longer. The heat stirred inside of you, the flames licking at your thighs and back. You urged Steve closer though he couldn’t possibly go any deeper. 

His hands slipped down to the outside of your thighs. Your legs closed around his head and held him there. He tipped you slightly and you curled around him as he continued to lap. Your breaths mixed with throaty hums and you fell back. 

You had one hand still on his head and the other in your hair as you cried out in a mighty climax. He didn’t stop until you were shaking across the counter. When at last his mouth left you, you shivered. A sudden coolness washed over your body. He stood and you looked at him through the haze.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you to your feet. You wavered and he spun you quickly. You caught yourself on the desk and he slapped your ass. “That’s it,” He purred. “You’re getting it now.”

He nudged your shoulder until you were bent entirely over the counter, your toes barely met the floor. He rubbed your ass and pulled your cheeks apart. His cock poked you as his hand slipped lower and he tickled just below your ass. You squirmed and he chuckled.

He felt around and his cock slipped lower as he bent his knees. He dragged his tip along your folds before prodding at your entrance. He shoved his hand between your legs and forced them apart. 

He pushed inside and slowly stretched you around him. Your head shot up at the strain. A mix of pain and pleasure as he got deeper and deeper.

You whined as he bottomed out and his hips bucked almost instinctively. He hit your cervix and you cried out. He eased out and pushed back in. He repeated this again and again, his motion careful. Deliberate. He brought his pelvis flush to your ass and groaned.

“Fuck,” He slapped your ass again. 

He drew back and slammed into you all at once. All restraint was lost and he thrust mercilessly. His pace was wild. You reached out to grab at the edge of the counter, your hips hitting the other painfully. The spark had caught and you felt the flame about to burst. 

Your orgasm was surprising. More agony than pleasure. You whimpered and pushed your head into the counter as you heaved. You could barely breath as Steve never wavered. He fucked until you until your walls ached. Until they turned numb and you were nothing but a mewling fool before him.

He bent over your, his muscled torso against your sweaty back. He rutted atop you frantically. His hips jerked as his grunts deepened. His breath caught and he swore. He lifted himself off you and you felt the warmth spill down your ass and thigh. 

You laid breathless as he panted behind you. He rubbed his cum into your skin with two fingers and you shook. You tried to push yourself up from the desk. He caught your hip and shoved you back down.

“Oh, we’re not even close to the finale,” He pinched your ass and you squeaked. “Not to mention the epilogue.”

-

tags to be added in reblog

[obfuscobble]

SO I got my hands on the Japan Animator Expo 2015 collection and I thought it a good time to rate each short because I have some very concise opinions.

1. Dragon Dentist 4/5 Girl volunteers to be a dragon's dentist in the midst of a war. Inventive, compelling, beautiful.  Works incredibly well as a short, managing to tell a story far longer than its timeframe without leaving us wondering what happened or what will happen.  A very strong start to the collection.

2. Hill Climb Girl 3/5 Girl wants to be a great bicyclist, and the first step is beating her friend up the hill to school. Pretty good for cel-shaded computer modelling.  If you like Yowamushi Pedal, you'll like this.  Not stand-out but it's an endearing.

3. ME!ME!ME! 4/5 Boy gets dunked on by his own objectification of women. A truly stand out music video not just for this collection but within the genre.  That said, you do have to rewatch it closely to glean its themes and true place as a condemnation of misogyny as seen through the self empowerment male fantasies used by the boy to combat his own misogynistic fear of female desire and deep shame over his otaku life.  And there is quite a lot of female objectification in his life.

4. Carnage 3/5 Gunslinging girl seeks revenge for her family and her arm. Great attention paid to the one armed gunslinging.  The conclusion openly and somberly lays out what will happen next as this old town must pay for its sins, even if it perpetuates the cycle of girls losing those they love.

5. Gundam key animation 1/5 Literally the key animation drawings from Gundam shown side to side with the classic footage. Pretty cool for animation nerds and gundam fans but otherwise not really compelling as a storytelling vehicle.  I have to take off points on that account, but it is really worth a watch to see the keys.

6. 20 min from Nishi Ogikubo Station 0/5 not actually 20 min long. Just kidding! 4/5 woman turns into a cockroach, much to man's dismay. The sketchy art style, soft colouring, and jittery movement add perfectly to the piece's theme, making them obviously intentional choices.  The piece is still fluidly put together, with inventive plays on human/cockroach interaction and the how's of being so small.  The woman as cockroach is envisioned naked, but I feel that this is presented in a naturalistic (ie she just shrunk out of her clothes) and not at all prurient way.  Didn't think I was going to like it as much as I did!

7. until You come to me 1/5 Oh Shinji boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling. Shinji silently misses Kaworu or five minutes. I mean I don't blame him but... Nothing happens, and if one has no inkling about Evangelion, this short has absolutely NO meaning.

8. Tomorrow from There 3/5 Woman avoids responsibilities, calls from her mom, and the creeping sense of adult dread, until she reconnects with her inner sense of joy. A wonderful counterpoint to ME!ME!ME! that focuses on universal human fears and dilemmas, without objectifying women.  Uplifting with a powerul backing song.  But I have to be honest and say that its visuals aren't going to stick with me as powerfully.

9. Electronic Superhuman Gridman 3/5 You are a human with the capacity for joy and wonder, so you will appreciate this heartfelt ode to super sentai live action and robot anime. Comes complete with character design details to reflect the rubber suits and even the tiny screw to hold on the back of a model's head.  Has nice internal logic about the Gridman.exe who fights monsters with the power of the electrical grid, such as circuit power ups and smashing a tv screen to get at the enemy.  Even for those unfamiliar with the tropes, it's just a fun 6 minutes.

10. Yamadeloid 3/5 An ode to historical fighter anime with neat brush-line visuals and fitting soundtrack. But it just didn't grab me by my heart's cockles like Gridman did, probably coming entirely down to what shows I grew up on.  It was also a lot more fourth wall breaking, which is entirely subjective for one's enjoyment, even from one short to another as you'll see.  So I'd like to give it a 2, but I know that nostalgia was the only thing inflating Gridman to a 3, so I'll be fair.

11. Power Plant No 33 2/5 What if we just... turned off our millenial facebook phones... and really lived.... yanno? The instantly gripping visuals of a society powered by a beast that creates electricity, which must then go on to fight a space robot, are immediately undermined by the totes not subtle digs against modern technology.  I get it, technology is literally a destructive beast.  I get it, we should unplug and learn to live freely.  The animation was great but the moral was giving me the feeling that I should get off a luddite's lawn.

12. Evangelion Another Impact Confidential 2/5 Tall woman looks for her daughter, finds hostile wasteland. But what a woman!

13. Kanón 3/5 A Japanese take on a Slavic philosophic parody of Jewish folk mythology, or, "On Solipsism." Actually fascinating as a piece.  It moves very very quickly though, leaving little time for the jokes and philosophy to set in, but I feel the frantic pace was meant to reinforce the confused, overworked, utterly helpless feelings that the main character was experiencing.  The fourth wall break right at the end completely charmed me and even elevated the piece.  Loses points for the inherent misogyny of the novel it was based on, but otherwise worth a watch for the curious, and one of the most interesting Japanese takes on Judaeo-Christian tradition I've seen.

14. Sex & Violence with Machspeed 0/5 Just because you admit that you're being gross for gross' sake doesn't mean you're not gross. Look I could get into it, but I just hated this one.  If you liked Panty and Stocking, maybe give it a try.

15. Obake-chan 3/5 A series of charming shorts about a girl who wants to be a spoopy ghost.

16. Tokio of the Moon's Shadow 4/5 Boy who has, I goddamn assure you, THE. SHINIEST. eyes in the universe saves earth and his radio penpal from a space creature. Come for the innovative mix of animation styles, stay for the dance sequence.  Just watch it.

17. Three Fallen Witnesses 2/5 Ambition: the Anime. Like seriously, this is the 3d animation equivalent of the Ambition games.  It's also a very ambitious premise, based on prosecuting attorneys using "DNA time travel" to gain evidence on a murder case.  Alas, I really feel it should have had longer to play in its world and the case itself.

18. The Diary of Ochibi 3/5 Edible stop motion is here!

19. I Can Friday by Day! 5/5 Tiny space squirrels fight tiny space rabbits, each piloting robot teenagers. Highly creative, wondrously fun, and yet with a good plot and even characterisation to hold it together past the visuals.  I'd love to see this as a short series, as I feel the premise, world, and character sketches could easily be filled out into a humourous and yet compelling larger narrative.

20a. ME!ME!ME! Chronic 1/5 Basically a remix.  Lacking the narrative of the original hurts it because then its just boobs and yonic symbolism and the guns that shoot them.  Still good music.

20b. The Making of Evangelion Another Impact Confidential 1/5 Interesting if you want to see how the short was designed and technically compiled.

21. Iconic Field 2/5 Never try to fit 13 episodes into 6 minutes. This is obviously angling to become a longer syndicated series but not only did they rush too many of their ideas and subplots into it, but they obviously ran out of money and production time.  Some shots are replaced with concept sketches, and there was no voice acting when clearly it was intended to be present.  It's creative in its character and mecha design, but the plot is another riff on the seeded earth hypothesis whose unanimated conclusion you can still see a mile away.

22. On a Gloomy Night Nippon Banzai! Nippon Banzai! Nippon Banzai! Nippon Banzai! Nippon Banzai! Nippon Banzai! Nippon Banzai! Nippon Banzai! Nippon Banzai! 1/5 Never try to fit 13 episodes into 6 minutes using Auld Lang Syne as your backing track.

23. Memoirs of Amorous Gentlemen 1/5 Honestly not sure how to classify this one.  It's about a sex worker, it's presented with a quite effective animation style, but in the end it's all about the sex worker accepting abuse from another as her tragic role in the world. Ehn.

24. Rapid Rouge 4/5 In the world of the techno-daimyo, there is only loss. BRILLIANT use of a limited colour palette.  Loses one point due to not fully delivering on the emotional character-sacrifice punch it wanted and for being unartfully open ended.  If it delivers on a second episode like it promises, I might amend my opinion.  It was so close to being perfect, yet didn't manage to get me to care enough about its characters in its short run time, unlike...

25. Hammerhead 5/5 Highly violent, yes, but emotionally impactful to the extreme; I cried both times I've watched it. Update: three times. Wonderful traditional animation, powerful emotional centre, and perhaps the best animation I've ever seen to portray a human's physical demeanour in deep emotional distress.  I absolutely recommend watching this.

26. Conte Hitman 3/5 Manzai routine with clever twists and turns.  Porque no los dos, the sketch.

[ultralifehackerguru-blog]

New Post has been published on http://lifehacker.guru/the-13-best-movies-you-didnt-see-in-2018/

THE 13 BEST MOVIES YOU DIDN'T SEE IN 2018

LAST YEAR, FOLKS in the US spent $11 billion going to the movies. Yet the bulk of those people, and those dollars, went to the mega-blockbusters—the Panthers, the Venoms, the Avengerseseses. Even though indies are getting a renaissance thanks to streaming services, there’s just not the same thriving middle-class that there was in decades past, and a ton of legitimately great films still don’t get in front of as many eyeballs as they should. So, fine, you let some smaller gems slip by; now’s your chance to make things right. Got a few free evenings over the holidays? Queue up these 2018 unsung heroes first.

Suspiria

Amazon Studios’ art-house horror flick did modestly well in its small theatrical run, but limited distribution meant it didn’t get the attention it deserved. Directed by Call Me By Your Name‘s Luca Guadagnino, the film is, on the surface, a remake of Dario Argento’s horror classic of the same name. But it’s also much, much more than that. (Star Tilda Swinton, who actually plays a few roles in the film, went so far as to refer to it as a cover version of Argento’s original.) Beautifully shot, with an appropriately haunting performance by Dakota Johnson, this Suspiria goes beyond the tale of a witch-run dance school by digging its nails into the many ways the past will forever haunt us. It’s not for everybody, but if you have an itch for something truly gruesome and mind-bending, this’ll scratch it. —Angela Watercutter

First Reformed

Here’s a sentence I never imagined myself writing in 2018: Ethan Hawke gave one of the best performances of the year. It’s not that I didn’t think he was capable; I just didn’t see him showing up in a dark eco-conscious Paul Schrader film wherein he plays an alcoholic priest trying to keep his sanity and his congregation together. And yet, here we are. Moody, existential and even a little bit ethereal, First Reformed is one of the year’s craziest headtrips—right down to the ohshitwhatthefuck? ending. It got a very limited theatrical run but has been playing free to Amazon Prime subscribers for a while now (as well as Kanopy). If you happen to be one—or even if you’re not—go watch it immediately. —A.W.

Shoplifters

I’ve tried half a dozen times to explain director Hirokazu Kore-eda’s teleportative tale—about an ad hoc family living in near-poverty in urban Japan—and failed in each instance. So instead, here’s what Shoplifters is not: mawkish (though it is deeply moving); downbeat (despite its character’s increasingly desperate turns); nor needlessly twisty (though the family’s backstory is full of slow-building surprises). Instead, it’s a lovely, quite funny accounting of ordinary people staring down extraordinary circumstances with pragmatism, wits, and sporadic joy. And, in a year full of movies that viewed tough realities with deep empathy—from Roma to First Reformed to First Man—it’s the denizens of Shoplifters that have lingered in my mind the longest: Wondering where they are now, hoping everything turned out OK. —Brian Raftery

Mandy

You know what sucks? The fact that so few movies today are confident enough to feature coked-out demon biker gangs, strange Jesus cults, and a truly off-the-leash Nicolas Cage. Luckily, though, there’s Mandy—director Panos Cosmatos’ movie starts with that grand trifecta and goes about a thousand steps further. Shot using lush nighttime colors that would make the Stranger Things crew jealous, the revenge tale follows Cage’s Red Miller as he goes searching for his girlfriend who has been taken in by the aforementioned cult. Explaining it any further would ruin the fun (it’s also kind of impossible), but rest assured it has one of the best eviscerations of fragile masculinity ever put onscreen. —A.W.

Miseducation of Cameron Post

If you were an indie movie fan in 1999, you remember a delightful little film called But I’m a Cheerleader. It starred RuPaul as an instructor at a gay conversion camp and Natasha Lyonne and Clea DuVall as two of the unfortunate souls sent there for “treatment.” The Miseducation of Cameron Post, based on Emily M. Danforth’s novel of same name, is a much, much less campy version of that. In it, Chloë Grace Moretz plays the titular Cameron, a teenage girl who gets sent off to a conversion camp after getting caught in the back of a car with another woman the night of her prom. Heartwarming and heartbreaking, director Desiree Akhavan’s adaptation of Danforth’s novel is as vital and necessary as Cheerleader was in the late-1990s. It just has fewer laughs. —A.W.

Matangi/Maya/M.I.A.

The last time you heard from (or about) agit-pop hitmaker M.I.A. it likely had something to do with her flying her middle finger at the Super Bowl or the term “truffle fries.”That was years ago, and a lot has changed in terms of how the public, and pop culture, treats its female artists. Well, maybe not a lot, but there’s been progress—and in Steve Loveridge’s documentary, the ways in which Maya Arulpragasam was mistreated and misunderstood couldn’t be more obvious. Built on archive footage and personal footage shot by the Sri Lankan artist over years and years, it creates a fuller picture of M.I.A. than any magazine profile or online hot take ever could. It might be a little late, but it’s also right on time. —A.W.

Shirkers

The set-up for Sandi Tan’s autobiographical Netflix doc sounds like something out of a pop-culture thriller: In 1992, Tan and two other bright, outsidery teenage girls decided to make a semi-surrealist feature film in their home country of Singapore. They were aided by a mysterious older American man who absconded with the footage—and then all but disappeared from their lives. Yet Tan’s story doesn’t involve tidy resolutions or shocking twists. Instead, Shirkers is actually something infinitely more compelling: A gorgeous-looking self-interrogation about creativity, power, and the strange twilight zone between adolescence and adulthood. It also contains the most succinct one-liner about ’90s alt-teen life I’ve ever heard: “When [we were] were 14,” Tan says of her pals, “we discovered unusual movies and unpopular music.” Decades later, they all reunited for a film more unusual and profound than they ever intended. —B.R.

Tully

Here’s the thing about Tully: It builds up to one really great twist. I won’t reveal it here, and maybe you’ll guess it before getting to the end anyway, but it’s a gut-punch. Before that happens, the setup is fairly simple. Marlo (Charlize Theron), a mother of three children, hires hip twentysomething Tully (Mackenzie Davis) as a nanny for her new baby. Over the course of weeks, Marlo and Tully become close and Marlo begins to yearn for the life she had when she was Tully’s age. Sounds dry, but this is a project from director Jason Reitman and writer Diablo Cody, a pair that has wrung blood, sweat, and tears out of domestic dramas (Juno, Young Adult) twice before—and does so double-time here. The quest to prolong youth while also raising children has never been so cuttingly portrayed. —A.W.

The Favourite

I truly thought that nothing could top Suspiria for the most haunting final moments of any film in 2018. I was wrong. Director Yorgos Lanthimos’ film about the love/hate triangle between Queen Anne of England (Olivia Colman) and her companions Lady Sarah Churchill (Rachel Weisz) and Abigail Masham (Emma Stone) ended on a note so unsettling, I’m still not done processing it weeks later. (I won’t spoil it, but I will say I’ll never look at rabbits the same way ever again.) Much like with his film The Lobster, Lanthimos’ latest lands somewhere in the gaps between drama and farce. It is, instead, a crooked glance at humanity’s relationship to power—the things people do to get close to it, to claim it, and to throw it away. In Lanthimos’ askew version of history, when Sarah’s relationship with the Queen is threatened by the arrival of her cousin Abigail, she does what she feels she must do to wrest back control and steer Queen Anne’s War to her liking. Anne, sensing the manipulation, grows closer to Abigail, only to realize her intentions might not be much better. It’s an unparalleled study in the utter lack of trust that accompanies being in charge, in the dread that comes with knowing those who seek your favor may never have pure intentions. It’s as bleak as it is laughable—and one of the most wonderfully weird tales to hit the screen this year. —A.W.

Annihilation

Director Alex Garland‘s adaptation of the first book of Jeff VanderMeer’s Southern Reach trilogy was easily one of the best dystopia films of 2018. It was also one of the year’s finest specimens of female badassery, featuring Natalie Portman, Tessa Thompson, Gina Rodriguez, and Jennifer Jason Leigh as a team sent on a expedition to find out why nature’s rules seem not to apply in the mysterious, government-protected space known as Area X. Haunting, unpredictable, and science-y (someone turns into a plant!), it was a whirlwind head trip—and a weird examination of what it means to exist. —A.W.

Eighth Grade

Even the title strikes fear in the hearts of anyone who didn’t have the easiest time walking the halls of their middle school/junior high. In writer-director Bo Burnham’s film, that uneasiest of times is compounded by the fact that it takes place in the modern world, where all insecurities are reinforced by un-Liked Instagram posts and unreceived Facebook invites. Heroine Kayla Day (Elsie Fisher) knows she’s on a pretty low rung in her school’s social hierarchy and with each new YouTube video she posts full of advice she doesn’t take, her story becomes more and more poignant, more and more real. And whether you grew up in the social media age or not, it’ll punch you in the heart—and make you glad you survived adolescence intact. —A.W.

Leave No Trace

Debra Granik, who every reviewer will remind you made a star out of Jennifer Lawrence with her film Winter’s Bone, pulled off another wrenching look at a family on the edges with this year’s Leave No Trace. When Will (Ben Foster) and Tom (Thomasin McKenzie)—a father-daughter pair who have been living off-the-grid outside Portland, Oregon for years—are arrested and put in the system, it tests their bond in new ways, and exposes Tom to a life unlike the one she’s lived with her father. Granik’s latest is almost deafening in how quiet it is, but its message about finding one’s place in the world is loud and clear. —A.W.

Three Identical Strangers

Were you surprised by the twist? What about the one after that? These are kind the kinds of questions folks ask you after seeing this documentary about three identical triplets who discover each others’ existence in their teenage years. At the time they found each other, they became America’s latest talk show feel-good story and national intrigue. Everything that happened after that, though, is so unbelievable it pushes all boundaries of credulity. It’s a Can you believe? story that quickly becomes an examination of heredity and (possible) corruption that goes beyond unbelievable into truly mind-boggling. —A.W.

(C)

[s0022527a2film-blog]

Evaluation

Introduction

The aim within my critical analysis is to evaluate how my research and planning had led up to my final product. I also intend on comparing my film to those of Kubrick's that I had chosen to study, those being: A Clockwork Orange (1971), A Space Odyssey (1968) and The Shining (1980). I also intend on discussing how this links to my textual analysis as the main focus of my TA was, whether Mr. Stanley Kubrick can or can not be considered to be an Auteur. I believe that I had demonstrated this within my film. Within my TA, I discussed specific characteristics possessed by one that could be called an Auteur; most importantly,whether Kubrick had possessed said characteristics. I had concluded and provided evidence for Kubrick standing alone as a true Auteur and, had recreated a handful of techniques iconic to Mr. Kubrick within my own footage that I had captured , which I intend to further discuss.

Many Kubrick pictures use a non-linear narrative, something that is arguable one of the most recognisable Kubrick traits. I wanted to recreate that by adding in a montage sequence towards the end of the film which would then go on to symbolise the protagonist's loss of sanity. 

Genre, Theme and Representation. 

I had discussed the themes running through all 3 of the films up for discussion, those being loneliness and entrapment. I wanted to simulate those themes within my own short and I did that by trapping the protagonist within himself. My main goal for the synopsis was to tell the story of Mr. Copley (the protagonist) and communicate to the audience that Mr.Copley is trapped within his own head and is completely paranoid. The protagonist is alone, within his head and he cant get away from the way he thinks, which represents the themes that i had identified.

Is is also important to briefly mention that within each of the films that I had discussed, as with many other Kubrick productions, there was a constant theme running through his work, which i utilised within my own work. In many Kubrick films,the endings are never particularly happy, in ACO it is revealed that Alex was not cured, in The shining, the family did not link arms and announce that they love each other again; ASO ends with loneliness and isolation. I wanted to recreate this by making sure that the film ends with Mr. Copley looking just as disturbed as he did at the beginning of the film, reiterating the fact that, nothing got better.

Within creating the synopsis for my film, it became apparent that themes such as Man Vs. Himself were appearing throughout the work. This is due to the focal character being so trapped within his own mind that, he is creating additional issues for himself. His mental health issues will result in consequences such as destroying the relationships around him. This is very reminiscent of the focal films that I had chosen to study. The protagonists of The Shining and ACO had, too, destroyed the relationships around them by engaging in questionable actions and being trapped in a particular way of thinking. This links with my chosen themes to explore which were, isolation and entrapment. I believe that the film eludes to the fact that Mr. Copley has mental health issues successfully.

As I had mentioned within my TA, the genres that I had chosen to explore were drama/ dark comedy. Throughout the making of my film however, I had come to the realisation of that the most sensical way of shooting and directing my actors, was not to begin limiting my actors to performing in a certain style that would depict the dark comedy genre, but rather shoot and create the film first and then uncover exactly what sub genre the film falls into. With that said, I believe that the final product did not fall under the dark comedy genre, but rather fell under a classical drama. The film displayed that men can have mental issues but did not manage to make this taboo subject more light-hearted and laughable, the goal of which was to engage the audience into opening a conversation about this subject by making it comedic, therefore easier to talk about.

Within my initial ideas, I had touched upon the fact that, within many Kubrick productions, the messages at the end of the film are always seemingly similar. The narrative always allows for the issues that the protagonists are facing, to not get better. within each of my chosen films, there really isn't a final happy ending, each of the films leave the viewer rather on edge. They leave question marks rather than full stops. I wanted to emulate that concept within my own film and I believe that I had achieved through my protagonist; what would be the next steps into resolving his issues. The intended message and value that I was attempting to communicate was that, there really is not a happy ending to anything, life is a series of negativity and positivity . 

Mise en scene - Costume

Whilst in the process of deciding what my characters were going to wear, I decided to pay close attention to what the protagonists of the films that I was studying, were wearing. Upon doing this, I had noticed that the tones within the clothing of the character were mostly neutral, therefore I decided to stick with a muted colour pallet. For The Neighbour, I picked a coloured, muted shirt and blue jeans as, my intent for The Neighbours character was to portray them to be as common and normal as possible, to further convey that Mr Copley is imagining everything that he is discussing regarding this neighbour. I made sure to change The Neighbour into a white piece of clothing to further communicate her innocence.

Within my film, I used an array of shot types in order to express the intended images that I had planned to recreate. I had attempted to recreate the infamous shot of Alex with fangs, a shot that was almost subliminally shown to the audience for a brief few moments. This created a sense of imbalance within the scenes as the shot goes abnormally faster than the other ones. I recreated this because this technique would have perfectly displayed the imbalance within Mr. Copley. 

I had made multiple links to the factors that make a Kubrick film authentically, Kubrick. I had presented taboo subject matter, which run through films such as ACO, Lolita, Full Metal Jacket etc. I did this by bringing up mental issues, Mr. Copley's mental health issues. I wanted to represent the vulnerable side of men as, it appears that in every Kubrick production, the male protagonist's are always portrayed to be emotionless or brave. This applies to everything besides ACO as, Alex’s character becomes extremely vulnerable during the second half of the film, a huge contrast from how his character was portrayed during the first half. I wanted to simulate that vulnerable side to Alex'x character, while displaying themes of entrapment and loneliness, which is how I developed Mr. Copley.

Micro Technical Elements - Sound.

Within my research, I looked into Kubrick's usage of sound in order to create dramatic effect, as well as more naturalistic effects. In doing so, I was planning on making use of classical compositions, however, because of the quirky nature of the footage that I ended up capturing, I thought that perhaps I should lean into a more peculiar, unconventional non-diegetic sound. I thought that the use of sound representative of an extra-terrestrial origin would work better than a classical approach. The reasoning behind this would be that, Mr. Copley (the protagonist) was hallucinating what he was describing to be his neighbour. He was seeing things that simply were not there and I thought that, that would be best represented though the use of sound. 

The diagetic sound within the film was done in such a way, that reminded the viewer that they are watching a film. I had discussed this phenomenon previously within my textual analysis and I wanted to recreate this within my own film. I did this by making the diagetic sound, poorer in quality, which I thought added a certain charm to the final product. As Kubrick's productions were often so clean and balanced, I wanted to show diversity within this by making sure that the sound was more raw and organic to the original footage. Kubrick was known to not put much emphasis on editing in order for the viewer to not get distracted. The lack of continuity and quality within my sound within the final product, also was done in such a way to represent Mr. Copley's inner turmoil and the lack of control he has over his mind. I wanted to represent what was going on in Copley's head into the screen by using sound that lacked in quality and often jumped between being  tolerable and not, in order to communicate to the viewer the absolute chaos within Copley's head. I think I had managed to achieve this.

Mirco Elements - Audience

Audience feedback was a mixture of opinions. Some of my aims and intentions were indeed met and some were not. Much of the critiques that I had received regarding the film were to do with the sound. Generally, the conclusion that I had drawn from the feedback was  that the ideas that I was trying to communicate regarding Copley's mind, were not executed in a way that had successfully portrayed the idea of his head being chaotic, but rather, it just read that the sound editing was chaotic. 

Other feedback I had received was that the montage at the end of the film read as Kubrick and that it reminded them of the famous scene in A Clockwork Orange, where the protagonist in engaging in a threesome and Kubrick had sped the whole process up to give it a more farcical, theatrical feel.

Micro Technical Elements - Editing

Throughout the editing process, my main focus was on making use of editing techniques that Kubrick would make use of. This being minimal editing in order not to distract the viewer. Sound editing has played a large contribution within post production editing. As sound had played a large role within carrying along the narrative of a Kubrick film. I made sure to focus on doing so within my own film. When it is revealed to us for the final time that the character that Mr. Copley is discussing is simply his neighbour, I made sure to ass a different sound that would contrast the previous sound being heard by the audience. The intentions behind this manuver were that, when the music changes to Beethoven's 9th synthony, Mr. Copley snaps out of his horrific version of reality and it will be realised that he is paranoid about someone that means no harm.

I also utilised his symmetrical style and was forced to edit certain shots I had captured as some shots I got without making use of a tripod, for example the shot of the shot of Mr Copley, breaking the fourth wall and looking straight into the camera. I had to create an equilibrium within that shot, otherwise it would not have read as Kubrick. 

I had also pre-recorded the voice at the beginning of the film which, as concluded judging from the audience feed back that I had received, I should've done throughout all of the conversation running through my film. The footage towards the end of the film was supposed to represent archive footage of the first person perspective memories that Mr. Copley had of his neighbour, I was intending on linking this to the work on Good Bye Lenin! (Wolfgang Backer, 2003) that I had done during the course as, towards the end of the film, the last thing we see is archive footage of memories. Unfortunately I had not left myself enough time to be able to execute this to the standard that I had wished. 

Style

Within researching deeper into Kubrick's style, I had discovered through watching and reading interviews with Kubrick, those he did not produce much of as he was a very private person, that what I had discussed in my planning and textual analysis was only the surface of what Kubrick's true style was. Indeed the symmetry within his work that I had discussed was accurate however, it was not only that that defines his definitive style. It was the relationship between artificial and natural. It is the unnaturally sharp edges and smooth geometric shapes. Like in the poster for ACO and the monolith in A Space Odyssey (large black square I had discussed in my TA) as with many of the images Kubrick had created in ASO, oddly leaving no trace of nature, though what was being shown could've only been described as being nature, space. The geometric carpet that Danny rides on before encountering the twins. All of these things are extremely characteristic of Kubrick. I had attempted to recreate these factors through shots such as:

With this being said, I had also made use of the infamous OPP shot and the wide angle lens.

The films I had chosen to study, were all done with a somewhat Neo-Classical style, which I mimicked though the use of natural colours and as many props that were as far away from modern as possible. This applies to all of the film besides from the interview with Mr. Copley, I had made sure that the scene took place in a more clean and modern environment to portray my research into ASO. 

Narrative

Upon focusing on my key films, I had noticed that Kubrick had often made use of a linear narrative, meaning that the stories told through his films are chronological. I decided to do this within my own film, however due to the nature of the narrative, I was not able to as a montage of Mr. Copley’s memories of his neighbour had to be added. My decision to do this was largely influenced by the sped up footage that runs through many Kubrick films and I thought that the perfect way to pay homage to that was through a non-linear montage of memories.

My film shows disequilibrium, linking to Todorov’s equilibrium and narrative theory. I made sure to include, conflicting oppositions within my film. Mr.Copley and society trying to help him, but that help being rejected by him. This shows themes such as Man vs. Himself to be present throughout the film, contributing to the themes that I was exploring which were entrapment and loneliness as Mr Copley, throughout my film, feels alone and isolated within his own mind. 

Film theory

As I delved deeper into my research into Kubrick’s films, I had discovered that many had followed the criteria of Marxist theory. The theory states that the camera acts as a conveyor for whatever the director wants to communicate. The theory goes on to explain that film is an art form and that people have the ability to communicate to themselves, contrasting ideas and concepts that they, themselves have created.I believe that Kubrick did this within his own work. My film also achieves this in the sense that, it also broadcasts the issues and  messages that I as the director, wanted to portray. I chose to subject the audience into being inside the world of my protagonist, whom had severe mental health issues as a result of poor mental health awareness maintenance. This is due to the fact that mental health, especially in men, is so stigmatised in the western society, that the issue ends up getting completely disregarded, leaving the issue to manifest in many individuals within, said society.

Psychoanalytical theory, states that films are somewhat representative of dreams. When a person watches a film, it can manipulate, even subconsciously, ones views on a certain topic. This especially links into my own film as, my intent was to portray a man with mental health issues, thus letting the viewer experience an intimate interaction with the protagonist as he sits opposite them and explains what has been bothering him recently. This is done through the one point perspective shot whilst Mr. Copley is sat opposite the viewer in this case.

Links to course 

Throughout the process of making my film, I had made sure to stay highly aware of what I had learned on the course. I believe that without the knowledge that I had acquired during studying film, I would have not been able to create the motion pictures that I did. I made sure to stay constantly aware of the messages and values of my film and made sure that I was able to draw inspiration from the content that I had learned throughout the course. I believe that the technological side of making the film would have been the most challenging aspect, had I not participated in the course however, due to that not being the case, I was able to utilise what I had learned within the duration of my course and apply that the the entire process of creating the film, that includes shooting, editing and releasing. 

I had also made sure to link my film to the films that I had studied on the course, one of which I thought was extremely representative of my chosen director, Goodbye Lenin! by Wolfgang Becker (2003). The film even references Kubrick’s work. Moreover, I noticed that GL had embodied the neo-classical style that Kubrick’s work was so notorious for. It almost had to be neo-classical as the film is all about maintaining the past, something that Kubrick also aesthetically embodied. My film had also assimilated this style as, during the planning for the mise en scene aspect of my film, I had made sure that little of the things within my film, were modern. 

Submarine (Richard Ayoade, 2010) was too, a film that I wanted to stay highly aware of as it also displays the themes that my film was exploring. Man vs. Himself was a key theme that ran through Submarine as the protagonist (Oliver) was battling his own inner turmoil from within. I believe that my film also displays this theme. 

Links to focal films

Each of my chosen films, A Clockwork Orange (1971), The Shining (1980), A Space Odyssey (1968) had themes of entrapment and loneliness running through all of them. The Shining in particular, I thought was best represented through my film in terms of style and genre as the final product that I had created turned out to be more of a horror/ drama, rather than the original intent of genre which was drama/ dark comedy. I thought that the neo- classical style of The Shining was emulated through my cinematography effectively as the use of mise en scene and camera techniques was considerably inspired by Kubrick’s interpretation of The Shining.