#and lost in the woods IS the best song of the movie and it deserved way better and people were not ready for it four years ago | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

babypinkhearts · 5 months ago

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moon river.

pairing: geto suguru + fem!reader

summary: geto suguru’s heart is mellow. it beats rhythmically to match your perfect tune; disregarding your rejections, only drumming for the hope of your approval.

warnings: descriptions of a past toxic relationship, suguru is so patient and adoring, angst, lots of comfort, some cameos from satoru and shoko

word count: 5k

a/n: i fear i pick favorites, and geto is probably the character i enjoy writing for the most. some references here and there to my favorite movies/shows once again. got a little emotional from this, all you lovelies deserve the BEST kind of love <3

moonlight is faint and shines through like ripples in dark water. it’s reflection can be seen on a small, rusted window.

the vinyl record moves smoothly, battling the tense ambience you’re forced to sit in. circling, circling, circling, and you’re sure the song has faded from your senses.

suguru’s hair is wet. it falls upon his delicately sculpted face, droplets resting on the white cotton shirt adorning his body. you’re nearly able to smell his cologne from the ten foot gap that separates the two of you. it’s strong, the essence stealing rationality for a mere moment. in retaliation, from both your heart and head, your arms cross. you want to walk away, but it’s your room that you’re in.

his smile is faint — something familiar, and plastered on gently like nothing is amiss. distraught, but looks anything but it.

“harsh, don’t you think?”

his eyes narrow a little, teasingly, almost. and you think, for a second, that you might apologize and say something else. rebuke your initial answer, and give in.

you swallow the regret before he’s able to conjure it any further.

“all i did was say no.”

a little huff of amusement leaves him.

“you could have said it a little nicer.”

and you falter, voice quiet this time. it’s hesitant. suguru is sickeningly patient as he watches. you give a futile attempt at sounding more stern.

“if i did that, you wouldn’t take me seriously.”

a mischievous sparkle lands on his irises. suguru leans a little forward — staring expectantly, and he’s visibly victorious when you subconsciously cower back. you think the music gets impossibly quieter.

he’s characteristically calm as he tuts softly, honeyed voice somewhat strained, and disapproving. you hold your breath.

“i still don’t.”

•••

love is an understatement.

suguru first confesses to you on a bleak winter night. it’s spontaneous, out of place, and, blatantly, horrific.

your ‘no’ rings through his ears, replaying in loops like the stupid record player on your bedside table — the song that had played now stuck in his head, affiliated with you. stupidly, you.

he loves you.

but ‘love’ needs a better name, suguru thinks. something more villainous. because it’s awful. it’s painful. it’s frightening. he’s embodied a world of fiction, too far in the woods to find his way back. he’s lost.

to the intensity that is devotion, and, ultimately, emotion, he’d like to ask — how? because is it really normal to find you like a sixth sense? everything else kinda disappears when you’re in view. you’re the priority, in front of anything. it renders him vulnerable, and god, was that an unfortunate revelation.

suguru can’t focus, and his vision is blurry when a hand waves itself in front of it. it’s frustratingly repetitive, nearly hitting him across the face from how abrupt the movement is.

“yo, stand up. we’re leaving.”

suguru has never been too fond of parties. he doesn’t like drinking either (the red solo cup in his hand is full of water, and he’s been absentmindedly swirling it around for half an hour). they’re also too loud, and he thoroughly believes his head might explode from how irritated he’s become with the dramatized characters around him. girls draping themselves over him, and having uncomfortable eye contact with others that prey on him from across the room.

a shadow blocks his sight, offering a bit of leisure from wandering gazes. the room turns darker as satoru looms over him.

“how come?” suguru hums, looking up in slight boredom. his head rests upon his other hand, and he leans a little further into the armrest of the couch. satoru looks impatient, a familiar look of annoyed desperation on his face.

satoru scoffs, equally as disinterested. he’s ditched the glasses for the day, more susceptible to the pure chaos that was utahime’s ‘birthday bash.’ in his nature, he had said the name was stupid when she first invited him (reluctantly, only pressured to do so because of shoko.)

“we already cut the cake, gave her a present, saw her throw up — you wanna stay longer?”

infamously, gojo satoru also strayed away from alcohol. the reasoning still remained a mystery to suguru; though, he’s never made an effort to ask, too content that there has always been at least one sober person beside him at gatherings.

suguru glances at his phone, the brightness of the screen momentarily straining his eyes. 12:19am.

“it’s early.”

early for a party that had started at sundown, he means to say. he and satoru had arrived much later; satoru had always argued that they needed to be ‘fashionably’ late to parties. when it was shoko’s birthday, the night hadn’t ended until three or four in the morning.

satoru pouts, childishly, and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“i’ve had the same girl ask me for my number like…” and satoru briefly turns around, feverishly searching in paranoia, before looking back at suguru. “eight times now. she’s wasted.”

“everyone is.” suguru quips back, raising a brow. there’s beer bottles and solo cups scattered on nearly every piece of furniture around, and the smell of stronger alcohol is far too pungent not to notice. suguru supposes people tend to forget manners when inebriated. “just sit down and relax.”

“you drunk too?” satoru glares, crossing his arms. “let’s goooo. please.”

maybe, if satoru had been a little more sympathetic towards the events that had transpired within the past few days, suguru would have nodded, and followed him out the door. but empathy had never been something that the man-child was too fond of, so suguru shakes his head, turning away to watch flickering disco lights instead.

suguru won’t say it out loud — frankly, because it’d be too embarrassing to, but he can’t leave.

you hadn’t arrived yet.

his body is stagnant, prolonging a distraction for as long as humanly possible, voluntarily ignoring satoru’s faint complaints. you had mentioned something about arriving late a while back, though the reasoning still remained a mystery; suguru and his burden of nonchalance, only replying with an ‘alright’ when you had initially told him.

that was before two nights ago, though. you hadn’t spoken much since then (or at all.)

“fine, fine. we’ll stay.” satoru grumbles, begrudgingly taking a seat beside suguru on the couch. he’s too close, suguru thinks. their shoulders are tightly pressed together, and they sit in silence for about thirty seconds. a bliss, expectantly interrupted too soon. suguru knows, he can read satoru better than he can himself, and almost immediately, his head turns to avoid him.

“stop it.”

a scrowl appears on suguru’s face, arm whacking satoru’s hand as he had begun to poke him repeatedly. a chesire grin adorns his face, and he lets up, his hands raised in surrender.

“you’re making us stay longer so you can see her. let me do whatever i want.”

suguru’s eyes widen, embarrassment clear as day. he’s always been awful at masking surprise.

“that’s not why-“

“sure.” satoru interrupts, smirking lightly. suguru nearly shoves him, but quickly reminds himself that they’re still in public. another halfhearted hit on his arm satisfies him for the moment.

satoru enjoys the ruckus, and instigating has always been his favorite thing to do. he looks towards suguru, a little less smug, and nudges his shoulder gently.

“i’m just glad she finally got rid of that guy.”

suguru glances at him, biting the inside of his cheek from the topic. admittedly, he feels a little ashamed for feeling as relieved as he does. he shouldn’t be this happy, but he is.

the boyfriend you’ve had for a while now — after meeting both satoru and suguru. had, as you had finally confessed to the two that you had broken up with him a few weeks ago.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out the state of your relationship.

there had been too many rain checks — times where you had lost some of your little spark that suguru relied on. you always refused to talk about him, even finding a way to ignore satoru’s persistent questions.

your late night visits remain a secret, too. and suguru will keep those memories of you crying on his couch to the grave. it’s too engrained in his mind, and he thinks that’s when the hate really had cemented itself.

recalling the past few months, where your relationship had really taken a dark turn, was bad. but it hurt more to see you shrink as a person.

satoru’s talking, and his lips are clearly moving, but suguru is too lost in his train of thought. and all other senses fail when he catches the sight of something new in front of him.

he has a clear view of the front door ahead of him. and the knob moves, just a little. he sits up straighter.

it’s hesitant, slowly being pushed on the other side. the gentleness just confirms suguru’s suspicions, and when you reveal yourself on the other side, his breath gets a little caught in his throat. everyone seems too preoccupied in their inebriated states. suguru’s not any better when you finally let yourself inside.

you may as well be a dream brought to life.

suguru thinks, wholeheartedly, that all the blinding colors of the room land on you at the same exact same time. you’re technicolor, and your pretty face is painted in marvelous array of different hues (somehow different than everyone else — brighter, clearer, breathtaking). suguru’s been so derived from your presence that it feels like he’s involuntarily fallen in love all over again. nothing seems to alleviate his hopelessness. he’s always and will forever be your permanent victim.

when your eyes meet, there’s a sparkle of surprise.

he watches you, carefully, as you step over to greet him and satoru. it’s almost enchanting, and there’s hearts in his gaze when you stand in front of the couch. you wave, shyly.

“hey! how’s the party been?”

you sound a little breathless, and suguru can’t help but notice your gaze remains mostly on him. like you weren’t expecting him, or that he’s just caught you off-guard. your smile is decently friendly, nonetheless. there’s a good distance between all of you. suguru nods in greeting.

his face feels hot. your eyes are addictive poison.

“utahime drank too much.” satoru replies, sighing and dramatically rolling his eyes. his voice is loud, like yours, struggling to be heard over the music. “she threw up a while ago. i think shoko’s taking care of her upstairs.”

“oh.” your eyes widen, an expression of both shock and amusement appearing on your face. it makes suguru want to laugh a little bit. he watches you nod, shrugging with a wider smile. “well, at least it sounds like she had fun.”

“yeah,” suguru responds, his voice cutting through like a sharp knife. your eyes trail back to him, and he’s watching you a little too intently for you to fully reciprocate the eye contact. he notices. “it’s too bad you missed most of it though.”

satoru looks over to him, unimpressed. ‘subtle’ he means to convey in the silent, sarcastic expression.

thankfully, you miss the interaction, a sheepish sigh leaving you as you shamefully shake your head.

“i know, i know. i was just caught up with some stuff.”

you fidget a little, smiling apologetically.

suguru feels stumped.

he doesn’t show it on his face, but your vagueness bothers him. heavily. but for the sake of being cordial (and to not bug you further in front of satoru) he relents, settling with a nod.

“i’m gonna-“ and you pause, startled by the phone in your hand. it’s suddenly on and bright, contrasting the dark ambiance of the entire house. someone’s calling you — suguru can briefly make out the screen before you’re sighing heavily, pressing what he assumes is the decline button.

it’s so quick, he hardly has the time to think.

“i’m gonna go check on utahime.” you announce, brushing off the last couple of seconds (ignoring them completely, really). you don’t seem phased. it’s unlike you, to be so dismissive.

when you briefly glance away, suguru and satoru share a similar look.

“i’ll see you guys in a bit.” you wave, and within the next second, you’ve turned and are walking towards the staircase leading to the bedrooms.

suguru feels another harsh poke on his side when you finally leave his sight.

“you have to go.”

when suguru turns to look, satoru’s eyes are wide, and his head is tilted in your direction, repeatedly motioning to the area. his wishes to leave are seemingly scrapped entirely, visibly both intrigued and mildly concerned. “that was weird! you can’t tell me that wasn’t weird.”

suguru sighs (partially because he’s relieved he wasn’t the only one finding your behavior strange), and nods in agreement, his lips briefly pursing.

“c’mon, this is your chance.” satoru pushes, beckoning him to stand up. “talk it out, see what’s up, maybe kiss or something-“

“satoru.”

suguru glares, shrugging him off and shaking his head. he doesn’t have the energy to completely scold him, or hint at the not-so-humorous situation, so he ignores him.

he gets up shortly after, and promises his childish companion a quick return.

when he steps into the crowd, it’s almost immediately overwhelming. there’s a sense of feeling trapped, too connected with skin between every other person in suguru’s vicinity. in his peripheral vision, he sees those same stalking eyes, dressed with black eyeliner and sparkly tops. they watch him like predators. thankfully, he’s able to escape the girls, anxiously moving out of the way in record time.

suguru has to dodge a few people on his way up the stairs, and it’s grossly crowded still, but his coordination is miles better than everyone else around him. he easily pushes through, clearly superior to the drunk bodies in every space.

utahime’s bedrom is at the end of the hallway. she fought for the master bedroom, he briefly remembers. shoko had been a lot less adamant about it, and easily gave up. ‘as long as my room has a window’ is what she had said. the cigarette addiction was a bit too intense for anyone to intervene.

could shoko heal her lungs with her reverse cursed technique? it felt a little dumb to ask.

when suguru reaches the familiar door, the frame painted with flowers and a blue handprint (satoru’s doing — he was messing with the paint when utahime had asked him to help her with some remodeling), he knocks.

the faint ‘come in’ is nearly lost in the overwhelming noise, though suguru manages to catch it, creaking the door open and stepping inside. everything seems to drown out as soon as he’s in the comfortable confines of the room. he stills.

“you okay?”

shoko’s lying on the queen-sized bed, above the comforter, scrolling on her phone. it’s pleasantly quiet. suguru thinks he might wake up with a headache tomorrow from the turmoil his ears have had to face on the outside. shoko’s staring, brows raised expectantly.

utahime rests beside her, submerged in blankets. there’s a bucket next to her on the floor.

you’re no where to be seen.

“yeah, yeah.” suguru nods, and his eyes scan the room in confusion, once again only spotting the two of them. “i was just…”

it seems a bit pathetic to say out loud — he’s worried, and he knows shoko’s aware of how he feels about you. for someone so reserved was also irritatingly perceptive.

when he looks back to shoko, she seems almost amused, a smirk on her lips. the concern on suguru’s face is too apparent, and in her eyes, he resembles something close to a lost puppy. it’s strange to see him not composed. all strength falters, and he seems to shrivel into a ball.

“she went to my room.” shoko softly responds, shutting off her phone and leaning a little forward. “make sure she’s okay, yeah?”

she studies suguru’s face for a few seconds before she relents, shooing him away with her hand.

suguru blinks, a little dumbfounded by her lack of actual teasing, though nods, quietly stepping back out into the madness.

every bedroom of the house is beside each other. utahime had also tried making the place ‘homey,’ multiple different artworks hung upon the corridor. it adds a nice touch. suguru turns, eyeing his target.

shoko’s door has multiple stick figures of the entire gorup painted on the wood. anyone could easily tell each one apart — it was the gift of your artistry. red hearts and little flowers, similar to those on utahime’s door, fill the empty spaces around.

your figure in the middle of all of them. like some sort of symbolic glue, suguru thinks. the placement feels right.

he knocks. and you answer within the same second.

the ‘it’s open!’ comes out loud. like you were expecting it. but suguru decides not to waste another moment, opening the door as soon as you grant the permission.

while shoko’s room is not the biggest, it’s definitely decorated the best. it’s been a while since suguru had been in it, and he’s momentarily lost in gazing at the area.

you’re sitting on the edge of shoko’s bed, looking up at him with an expression suguru could only really describe as intense confusion. he doesn’t blame you. he clears his throat.

“hey,” he greets, before stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. he stays leant against it.

you blink, nodding slowly. “hi.”

the air is a little awkward. suguru knows he needs to get to the point, but he himself is lost on why you look so uncomfortable. his arms cross, and his eyes narrow.

“are you okay?”

you seem almost startled by the question, subconsciously adjusting your tense position. you don’t mean to come off as frigid.

“yeah, yeah. i’m just…” your eyes look to your phone, distaste and desperation all tied together to form one weak glare. you kinda look like you want to crush it in your hands, your emotions a little intense-looking from suguru’s view. it only fuels his suspicions, and he curiously waits, eyeing the way your hair slightly lifts from the gusts of wind outside. the only light welcomed comes from the open window beside you. it’s cold; suguru can feel the breeze despite being decently far from the opening.

your shoulders are slumped, and he’s watching you intensely. an unintentional furrow in his brows, trying his best to catch a glimpse of your eyes that you’ve retreated downwards.

it’s unfortunate, really. because suguru can already tell what’s wrong. he’s reading it all over your pained face, and it feels a little sickly familiar.

when you used to visit him, you’d come over to talk on his couch, defeated and lonely. never complaining. just simply sad. at first, you cried. that quickly turned into just sitting in silence. and then you stopped coming altogether.

you didn’t talk to everyone for a while. no texts to shoko, no giggly phone calls with satoru, and absolutely no heads-up given to suguru. you had vanished, essentially.

the whole ordeal had sparked a heavier conversation. it was daunting — a change in behavior, for suguru had rarely ever been forced to really be serious, or subject those around him to anything significant. you were scaring him, though.

he, satoru, and shoko had all been in his dorm when he had initially brought it up.

suguru had said it quietly. asking no one in particular, just needing to be relieved of the thought after keeping it trapped for so long. he received no answer, and maybe it was because it was just a communal question they all had relating to you. a topic that felt too accusing to bring up, because they all knew that you really weren’t to blame.

“why do nice people choose the wrong people to date?”

he’s reminded of that memory, looking at you now.

the relationship is gone — it’s over for good (he hopes, he begs), but something is still wrong. suguru’s a little restless when it comes to you. wants to help, just doesn’t know how.

he feels himself crack, and gently, he calls out. not assertive, just a soft coax. your name sounds pretty when he says it.

“why were you late?”

you look like a deer caught in headlights, and your face turns a little flushed. but, notably, it lacks any actual embarrassment. it’s more fear, if anything.

“you don’t have to tell me.” suguru quickly assures, noticing the conflict in your eyes. it pains him a little, to see you so visibly defensive, but that reactions grows mild almost immediately. you shake your head in response.

your tone attempts to be nonchalant, but it’s clear that you’re bothered by the topic. suguru waits.

“he came over. to talk about… everything.” you finally mutter, and you continue to refrain from looking at suguru, expecting the judgement because again, you’ve let the same man contact you — let inside your home once more. as if you’ve excused all his actions in the past, and you can both be cordial. (and, again, as if there hadn’t been times you’d come over to suguru’s home just to quietly cry.)

suguru thinks you’re too forgiving. that kindness is a curse, and that you’ve suffered too much from the consequences. but that trait is something so beautiful and innocent, he prays you’ll always keep it. or, learn to control it.

“oh.” suguru replies, breaking the silence. it lacks any strong, noticeable emotion. it’s his attempt at being open-minded. “what did he say?”

there’s no berating, no questions of ‘why?’ and you’re clearly surprised from it, despite knowing you shouldn’t be. it’s suguru, after all.

“he just…” you mutter, sighing with a small shake of your head. “he wanted me to take him back. said he loved me and everything.”

with the way you loosely cradle your phone in your hands, suguru speculates that the interaction hadn’t been finished yet. and that, in a rare instance, you had finally put your foot down and stopped something.

because while you look quite disheveled and destroyed, there are no visible tears. and your phone wasn’t on when he had first walked in. in fact, you’re just staring at it.

suguru fights the relieving smile for as long as he can. but that fails him, and a glimpse of it is apparent. his head tilts.

“and what did you say?”

your hands are in your lap, unmoving and hesitant. and your answer feels nice to let out. it’s like a weight off your shoulders, finally, finally, free. an acceptance of the one thing you’ve pushed away for far too long.

a little courage finds you in that moment, and you look up to suguru. the smile you reciprocate is hesitant and bittersweet, but still undoubtedly there.

“i don’t love him.”

and a part of you thinks you’ve known that for a while. that all that adoration you once felt withered away like the respect you received, and that your self-value had gone with it.

there’s still hope in you, you think.

you look somewhat brighter, and, frankly, you seem elated. but that emotion hinders for a second, because reality, as all know, is rather bleak.

and suguru knows you’re a little worn out.

he pauses his staring, pushing himself off the wall. you don’t say a word as he sits beside you. there’s not much to say. he’s more close than he’s been in so long, and his cologne is blinding all your senses. and when you really stop to think about him, he’s burned in your mind so heavily. stars explode into supernovas.

sometimes a person doesn’t need a shoulder. it’s arms. and you welcome his touch, leaning into his warmth when he wraps his around you. it’s like a hug from a prince, a savior. suguru squeezes, gently.

it’s everything and selfless. because you know something he doesn’t, and yet he’s still treating you the exact same. despite your rejection, and your brief absence. it’s what makes your hope stand strong.

you know that love is real because you exist, and you are full of it.

“suguru.”

your head is limp, resting entirely on him as your eyes close. you feel the little vibrations of his voice against you as he hums, and you lean a little more into him.

saying ‘i don’t love you’ broke a curse, you think. blocking his number was your final acknowledgment.

but a grueling realization is that you really have no idea what it feels like to be wanted. to experience something innocent and mutual. to have someone miss you dearly. to be known so well. you bury yourself a little deeper, voice quiet.

suguru is lovely. and you believe you’re able to admit anything around him.

“i want to be loved. like the good type of love.”

it’s a pathetic confession, and you feel exceptionally devastated as you speak it into existence. almost to the point where you want to laugh.

it brings upon a sense of dull aching, seeping through suguru’s skin and matching your glossy eyes.

you’re tense, and you pull away before the words leave your lips. it’s a bit of guilt, you think. because you know, from many trials and errors, that people really do accept the love they think they deserve.

and yet, you’re sure suguru wants you to have something different. something full of sun and pretty skies, because he’s all and generous.

so, finally, you admit it. because you’ve thought too much about it since that night, and it might break you if you don’t say it sooner.

“i think i like you, too.”

you’re stand-offish, similar to your body language that reminds suguru of record players and repetitive music. those memories should taste bitter on his cursed tongue. but, in truth, everything about you is almost infuriatingly sweet. even more so, now.

your eyes sparkle under serene moonlight. rivers of emotion, basking in trapped stars. there’s too many to count, and suguru can tell that you’re halfheartedly trying to escape his gaze, your body leaning slightly away from him with wandering vision. your consideration is cute, he thinks.

suguru’s lips curve into a smile. no sign of teasing. just plain adoration.

you’re fidgeting a little. you can feel his watchful eyes studying you, silently pulling apart each intricate detail and trying to figure out how to approach something so complex. to speak without hurting the both of you, because that almost feels like an impossible task.

“i won’t push you.”

suguru’s voice is very soft whenever he speaks to you, and it’s always earnest. you’ve noticed it lingers of fondness, sweet and melodic. soothing.

geto suguru is a wallflower. he sees things. he keeps quiet about them. and he understands. but, sometimes, he also thinks it’s much easier not to know things. to be too aware is to live in reality. and reality, again, is simply punishment enough.

suguru is aware that you love him. it’s not a conceited thought because, truthfully, he’s anything but naive.

but you’re fragile sometimes. and he knows he’ll always help mend the pieces. he respects time. and he wants you to get heal, unbearably so. he’ll wait for you. because the love he has for you is simply too stubborn to distinguish.

and he won’t tell you it’s been years since he realized it.

“just know, i meant it.”

suguru closes his eyes, gently, and leans back on his hands. the words are on the tip of his tongue, and they feel stupidly natural. you exhibit that urge — the need for declaration, to let you know that everything that leaves his lips in your presence is beautifully truthful.

you know what he’s referring to the second he says it, and it makes your face feel warm. even more so when he repeats it, and it really feels real.

“i do love you. and i can wait for a million years. you don’t have to give me a time or a date. i’ll say yes to anything.”

the devotion is enough to make your insides feel all strange, and all that emotion feels odd in your stomach, so you finally laugh, not knowing what to do with all of it. you feel like your limbs are on fire for a moment, and you’re smiling a genuine smile. it’s strange.

suguru’s eyes turn narrow and playful, and he nudges you gently. his voice is teasing. “what? don’t believe me?”

you have the urge to squeeze and hold him and never let him go. you’re in disbelief that he’s real, and he’s in front of you.

“no, no.” you lightly giggle, shaking your head in assurance. “i believe you. so much. that’s why i’m laughing.”

surely, the human heart is not meant to feel things so intensely. it’ll combust within the next minute.

suguru laughs, too. a chuckle, really, but he hopes that the moonlight is kind to his ego, and that you can’t see the pink on his face.

then, your phone dings. the volume is low, so you barely notice, but suguru’s eyes are still looking at it.

“oh,” you hum, and follow his gaze, picking it up. “it’s from satoru.”

you turn the screen so suguru could see too. satoru’s contact picture is the two of you smiling so big it kinda looks like it hurts. it’s a cute photo.

but when you open the message, suguru thinks about strangling him.

did he kiss you yet?

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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years ago

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dove down my rabbit hole of wips and one of my wips isnt a wip anymore! so here, have some gay shit....

“Kelly wants to get married in the woods, I want to get married in Midvale. So, apparently, our wedding will just happen via Zoom. Her in the woods, me at the beach. Ain’t that just fucking grand?”

Alex comes through the door like a hurricane covered in leather. Her helmet lands on Kara’s counter loudly. Her keys haphazardly thrown somewhere in the general direction of the bowl by the door.

“Then have two weddings.”

Alex follows the voice and her eyes zero in on her sister’s best friend.

Lena is sitting on the floor of Kara’s apartment, wearing an oversized sweater. Her dark hair spilling down her shoulders softly. A hand wrapping around a wine glass, the other typing on her laptop, not even jumping in the slightest at the commotion that is Alex’s entrance.

Alex plops down on the couch sighing loudly, not even batting an eye at this utterly domestic scene that is her sister washing the dishes with Lena Luthor on the floor of her apartment.

Lena doesn’t comment at the Danvers’ Sisters antics and Alex doesn’t call them out on the ridiculousness that Lena and Kara are still keen on keeping up.

The three of them already well desensitized to one another’s preferred brand of bullshitery.

“You know, sometimes I forget you're a rich-ass bitch and then you say shit like that and suddenly, I remember,” Alex says, smoothly snatching the wine from Lena’s hand.

She finishes the entire glass in one gulp and Lena rolls her eyes. Alex had finally proposed to Kelly the other week and well, that meant this week all of them had fallen victim to the Olsen-Danvers wedding debacle. It seems today isn’t the day that that whole dilemma is going to stop.

The wedding, of course, was still a few months away, but both parties were stressing about it as if it was going to happen immediately the next day.

Kara swoops in then, mussing up Alex’s hair, earning her an annoyed Hey stop it! before putting down another wine glass and pouring for Lena. Her arms are still wet from washing the dishes.

Lena murmurs her thanks and continues what she was saying, “Well, since you’ve finally remembered that I’m a billionaire. Let me pay for two weddings.”

Alex chokes on the wine.

“What? You’re kidding me, right?”

Lena continues typing, ignoring Alex’s shock, you’d think she didn’t just offer to pay for a wedding.

“Well, I mean, I’m never gonna get married,” Lena explains, “but if you let me do this, I can brag around that I’ve paid for two weddings. Not to mention I’m gonna make two brides very, very happy.”

“Or,” Kara interjects, lowering herself on the opposite side of the couch, perfect for Lena to lean back between Kara’s legs and lay her head on the side of her thigh. “You can just wait for Kelly to get here,” Kara says, pointedly. “Talk it out like normal adults and reach a compromise.”

Kara’s hands start to snake their way from Lena’s hair to Lena’s shoulders, massaging, all too aware that Lena won’t stop whatever it is she’s working on on her laptop till everybody gets here.

Lena lets herself melt and closes her eyes, sighing as Kara’s fingers dip at the junction of her neck and shoulder with just the right amount of pressure.

“I don’t wanna get married in the woods, Kara.”

Lena opens one eye to take a peek at Alex, who looks exasperated, her eyes pleading, gulping down another glass of wine.

“Don’t tell me,” Kara replies. “Tell Kelly.”

“The bugs, Kara,” Alex moans. “Imagine the bugs, and the moss and the ughhh.”

She dramatically thumps the back of her head on the couch.

“Imagine the soil. Clumpy wet soil. Eurgh. Ew. What if I fall face first in that? What if I trip over a stupid tree root in my heels? In my wedding dress?!”

“Alex, you don’t even have a dress yet,” Kara deadpans.

“I thought you were gonna wear a suit,” Lena adds.

“You two suck.” Alex pouts.

****

The rest of their friends arrive and Kara finally succeeds in prying Lena’s work laptop away from her. Alex was already teasing the line from tipsy to drunk by the time Kelly comes through the door.

“Let’s get married in Vegas!!!!” Is how Alex decides to greet her fiance.

Kelly laughs, gives her a peck then answers, “As much as that sounds like a very convenient wedding, I don’t think Eliza would appreciate that, baby.”

Alex frowns at being rejected, sags against the couch and crosses her arms. Why does Kelly always have to be right?

“How much has she had to drink?” Kelly turns to Kara.

“Uhh ask Lena. She made her switch to whiskey.”

Lena—who Kelly thinks was way too busy nuzzling against Kara’s neck to even answer her question—mumbles something that sounds like “S’was just two glasses.”

Kelly just shakes her head, makes Alex drink a glass of water. Her ring making a clink against the glass.

“Alright, what if,” Nia sing-songs, eyes sparkling with mischief, “we just settle this whole wedding thing with Charades?”

Nia claps her hands together like some gameshow host and Kelly takes a deep breath through the nose.

She’s been to enough Game Nights to know where this is headed.

Everybody else was intoxicated enough to accept the suggestion as a grand idea, not at all even thinking that: Hey, isn’t this something we should all take seriously?? Maybe ask the brides what they want, maybe???

Kara nods enthusiastically, agreeing immediately, “Oh!! That’s a great idea! Fun and fair at the same time!”

“Olsen vs. Danvers. Brides get to pick their teams.”

Nia pulls a white board out of nowhere, uncaps a marker and writes “Team Danvers”, “Team Olsen” separated by a neat line in the middle.

“Are we really letting Nia take charge of our wedding venue?" She hears Alex whisper from where she has her tucked at the crook of her neck.

Kelly sneaks a glance at the chaos happening before their eyes; Brainy already claiming to be on Kelly’s team, J’onn shaking his head opting to be the game scorer instead and refusing to participate, somebody’s shouting about: NIA, DREAM PROJECTIONS AT CHARADES IS CHEATING!!!!

Guess this is their life now.

Kelly smirks, boops Alex on the nose and says, “Scared you’ll lose, Danvers?”

****

Alex loses by three points.

“How was I supposed to know you were gesturing 'Transformers'!?!” She barks at Kara, throwing her hands in exasperation.

“I pointed at Nia!” Kara huffs, incredulous at the fact that her sister is blaming her.

Nia lost them a point too!

“What does Nia even have to do with it???” Alex’s voice grows higher in pitch. Her brows furrow in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“Trans, Alex. Trans.”

“Oh my God,” Alex groans. “How are you this dumb?”

And that was the story of how Kelly got her dream wedding.

****

The frenzy finally dies down, some time between Nia making up another drinking game and J’onn making her sit back down. A movie that none of them were watching provides a background noise to the almost lazy atmosphere. Kelly and Alex were pressed close on the far end of the couch, enjoying the temporary quiet.

“Guess we’re getting married in the woods, huh?” Alex murmurs.

“I guess we are,” Kelly whispers back. Alex beams at her, grinning dopily at the thought of finally getting the ending they deserve. It would be the perfect day, she has no doubt about that. No matter where they are. It would be perfect because they got there together.

Alex can’t wait.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.”

Alex continues to smile stupidly, nudges her nose to Kelly’s.

“Just— I don’t really care where we get married, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” Kelly raises an amused brow at her.

“Mm-hm. So long as you’re the one walking down the aisle.”

Alex presses their lips together, breathes Kelly in deep and for the first time that night, she feels that the future isn’t so scary, even though there is still a very large possibility that she might trip over a tree root on her wedding day.

Somebody interrupts their kiss.

“She’s only saying that ‘cos she lost.”

“Shut up, Luthor.”

****

“Text me when you get home!”

Lena hears Kara call loudly after her sister, before closing the door. Game Night has officially ended and as usual she’s still here. She’ll always be here, she thinks for a brief moment. The thought holding more depth than it should.

Kara didn’t even question her when everybody began filing out and Lena just started picking up the discarded dirty plates and walking them to the sink. They’re well past the point of asking each other if the other would stay over.

It was already some unspoken rule.

Already well past the point of Lena wanting to ask Kara what the hell it is they’re doing.

She’s bent over the sink, scrubbing—Kara doesn’t own a dishwasher for the sole reason that she finds doing the dishes therapeutic—when Lena takes a glance over her shoulder.

Kara is sitting on a high stool near the counter, casually flicking through her phone. It was Lena’s turn to do the dishes tonight. Once upon a time her doing the dishes would have resulted in a fight. “I can superspeed the dishes. Why would you even want to do them?” A statement that would be met with an eye roll.

Kara has learned not to fight her on it again, after around the 7th time that Lena had stubbornly insisted and Supergirl got doused with dishwashing liquid.

And now, it’s become some sort of routine, Kara does the dishes after lunch and Lena does the dishes after dinner. Oh, how the paparazzi would kill for this—Lena Luthor Knows What A Sponge Is?

“Is it true when you told Alex you’re never going to get married?”

Kara decides to break their quiet.

“Yeah, pretty certain about that one, why?” Lena turns around, cocks a curious brow. If she’s being honest she’s beyond certain that she’s not going to get married. She always jokes about how she’s married to L-Corp but it isn’t till now that she realizes how true that is, and...how lonely.

“I don’t know,” Kara murmurs, not meeting Lena’s eyes. “I just like the idea of you getting married, I guess.”

“What?” Lena chuckles at that; genuinely confused but still curious.

“Well, I mean—” Kara wobbles through her words.

“I guess, I just— I like the idea of you walking down the aisle...in a white dress,” Kara muses.

Then, “Or a suit!!” she quickly amends. “If you wanna wear a suit, that is. That can totally be arranged, you know?” Kara waves her hand around and it’s like now that she’s started, she can’t stop.

And Lena’s just standing there, water still dripping from her elbow, unsure of how to feel about Kara imagining her getting married. Quite an incredulous scene isn’t it? Her getting married? What a crazy thing to say, an even crazier scenario to imagine!

She snaps out of it, realizing Kara’s still rambling.

“I have no objections whatsoever with that, if you wanna wear a suit. And yeah, you know? I just— I like that idea. I like the idea of you dancing to your wedding song. The idea of you exchanging your vows, the idea of you-”

“Kara,” Lena decides to put a stop to it, since it’s clearly evident Kara won’t be stopping any time soon. And Lena's feeling way too many things that she doesn’t want to feel at the moment. She’s sure that she’s going to feel more, if she doesn’t put a stop to it herself.

“I’m well aware that it’s the best friend’s job to help with the bride’s wedding,” She says, “but, darling don’t you think you’re putting just a bit too much effort into this? Certainly seems like you’ve thought about it a lot.”

At that, Kara’s cheeks turn a light pink, squirming sheepishly under Lena’s questioning gaze.

Shouldn’t Kara be thinking about her own wedding? How beautiful she would look walking down the aisle. How her blonde hair would look so nicely with her dress. How happy she would finally be after finding someone she could share her life with. Not that Lena's been thinking about those kinds of things. No, of course not. That’d be hypocritical of her at this point. Why would she even— Why were they even talking about this again???

Lena tries to rein in it, tries to focus on Kara again; hands finally finding a dry towel, hesitantly walking into Kara’s space to hear the blonde more clearly.

“Well, I mean- Like I said, I do really like the idea of you getting married,” Kara repeats herself slowly.

And before Lena can come any closer, “Like the idea of you getting married…to me. More specifically,” Kara adds more quietly.

“What?”

Lena stands frozen.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard y- Kara, did you just?”

Lena’s heart is pounding away in her chest. Did she hear her right? Did Kara really just—

Lena’s a step away from her and Kara uses this to her advantage. She pulls Lena closer, tugging at her wrist, the towel dropping from Lena’s hands. Kara summons enough willpower to stare into Lena’s eyes.

“I like the idea of you getting married to me, Lena Luthor.”

“Kara, I’m sorry- What?” Lena jerks away from her, the words finally landing.

“Is that a no?”

Kara lets her go. She can’t focus on Lena’s heartbeat to assess the situation more. Kara’s own heart is betraying her, drumming so loudly in her ears.

“Uh- no, that's definitely not a no?” says Lena hesitantly, eyes wide, breathing nervously. She turns away from Kara for a minute to take a breath, hands fidgeting about.

She whirls around again to face, mutters, “You do realize marriages are for people who are—”

She pauses.

How do you exactly phrase that wedding proposals are for people who are actually in some kind of romantic relationship? And not for people who casually stay over every goddamn Thursday without fail?And okay, maybe sometimes, in a much different reality, would willingly commit fratricide to save the other? And in an also much different reality, willingly expose a secret identity to save the other?

Lena can’t find the right words.

“Oh, I don’t know, Kara,” Lena scoffs, shaking her head disbelievingly. “Marriage is for people who are actually dating each other.”

Kara takes her sarcasm as a good sign and pulls her in again.

“Well,” Kara begins. She can hear Lena’s heart thumping erratically, now that Kara’s gotten her bearings.

“We can always have our first date after the wedding, right?”

Aren’t they well past the point of dating anyway?

She’s got Lena standing between her legs now, her hands wrapping around her waist.

“First date and honeymoon all in one. That sounds great, doesn’t it? I can fly you wherever you want, Paris, Maldives, hell I even have a Fortress in the Arctic, if you’re into that.”

Lena stares at her, blinks once, twice; shakes her head and lets out a noise between a laugh and a scoff.

“Kara Zor-El, you are one ridiculous woman,” She breathes, putting a hand on Kara’s cheek. Because what else is there to say? This whole conversation really is ridiculous. But at the same time Lena feels like she’s floating? Like this may be the best moment of her life, and of course, it’s going to be ridiculous. This is Kara she’s dealing with, after all.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do if Kara reveals this to be just some sort of joke.

But the way her blue eyes are piercing through Lena’s, so earnest and so warm, argues otherwise.

“So, what do you say? Wanna get married?”

“Are you serious right now?” Lena asks, still unbelieving. This is beyond crazy. They’ve fought aliens and monsters and traveled through time but this? This is just beyond crazy.

“Lena, do I look like I’m joking? And besides, you’d already offered to pay for two weddings, why not pay for our two weddings, instead?”

She shakes her head again, let’s herself fall closer to Kara, lets out a laugh against her neck.

“Mm. You want a Kryptonian ceremony too?”

“Yeah.” Kara’s voice turns shy. “If that’s alright by you.”

“Of course, that’s alright by me. I’d be honored.”

Her heart feels more than full at the thought of Kara wanting to share that part of her with Lena. She’s always had some doubts whenever the topic of Kara’s Kryptonian heritage arises, always half-afraid she’s overstepped on something that isn’t hers.

But looks like there was nothing to fear all along.

“So, we’re getting married, huh?” Kara wiggles her brows, her face breaking into a wide grin.

“Yes. Mm-hm,” Lena hums against her. “I do. I’d marry you. Let’s get married.”

“Seal it with a kiss?"

****

“Hi.”

Lena blearily opens her eyes, follows the soft voice, her bare back being caressed by the sun filtering through Kara’s curtains.

“Hi,” She whispers back. All this feels much too like a fever dream. She’s half-tempted to pinch herself just to check. She’s woken up beside Kara a million times before but she’ll never get used to the sight of soft golden hair and sleepy blue eyes.

Kara gives her a soft peck and the feel of her lips sends Lena reeling.

The previous night was a whirlwind in her mind’s eye. The moment Lena murmured her 'Yes, please.', Kara kissed her passionately. Once they broke away, Kara had zipped around the apartment, Lena too dazed to even ask what it was Kara was looking for.

She watched as Kara tore off a keychain from one of her bags, curled the keyring to fit Lena’s finger and whispered, “This’ll do. For now.”

Kara had kissed her knuckles reverently, her lips making Lena’s blood sing in her veins. The feel of mangled metal fitted just for her left hand is an imprint on her soul. A promise of more to come.

They didn’t make it out of the kitchen the first time. Kara had lifted her by the waist and set her down on the kitchen counter. Which was a good thing, because Lena couldn’t feel her legs after.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom the second time either. She had tackled Kara onto the couch, pinning her wrists together, licking at the shell of Kara’s ear. “My turn now,” Lena had whispered. The way Kara shivered underneath her was enough of a reward. How long had they been waiting for this?

Flashes of last night had her hips bucking slightly unto Kara’s leg sandwiched between her own, but before it could escalate further...

“I have exciting news to share,” Kara tells her.

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm,” Kara hums, now nosing at Lena’s hair.

“What is it?” Lena asks.

“I’m getting married.”

“Oh you are?” Lena plays along.

“Yes. I’m getting married to my best friend,” whispers Kara, almost conspiratorially. “How cool is that?”

Kara looks giddy with excitement and Lena knows she’s mirroring that exact same expression right now.

“Mm. Very cool, darling.”

Kara giggles and they trade more lazy kisses before Lena breaks away to breathe.

“Quite a coincidence though,” Lena husks out against Kara’s lips.

“Oh really? Why?” Kara asks, tries to keep a serious neutral face despite her nose scrunching up in that cute smile that Lena can’t resist

“I’m also getting married,” Lena confides, “To my best friend," she adds, eyes flashing. "Isn’t that great?”

“Very great.” Kara nods slowly, blonde hair falling into her face, a hand running through dark tresses.

“I love you,” Lena whispers, her lips brushing Kara’s softly.

“I love you, too.” Kara kisses her harder then, her hands lazily wandering along Lena’s skin.

They lie there quietly for a few moments, basking in the morning glow and then, “Alex will kill us.”

Lena snorts, twists in the sheets and says, “I think your sister is too busy planning her wedding to even think about plotting our murder.”

read follow-up here.

#im praying we get a dansen wedding u guys #anyways yeah this is something they would totally do right?#get married on a whim #if u see a typo no u didnt #oh and also im still working on the prompts u guys sent me so there's that #thats the majority of my wips cos im one slow writer #happy supercorp sunday lovely people #supercorp ficlet of sorts #the reckless writer writes #supercorp #rcklss writes

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keysmashingfantasies · 3 years ago

Text

Bloody Comfort

pre borderlands!Niragi x fem!reader / Niragi x fem!reader

A/N: i feel like i only post Marvel on this blog and i missed my show so here it is, finally an AiB fic! :D also, minigame: how many alice in wonderland references can you spot? also also, bloody comfort is an awesome name for a band and if you do name your band that, i want my money. enjoy the fic! also also also i didn’t proofread SHIT so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

trigger warning: bullying, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic, i think but beware nonetheless), death (graphic. i mean, i’m not that good of a writer but still, beware), very slight mentions of nsfw, especially torwards the end, niragi (HE’S A WARNING OK), niragi having disturbing thoughts (what else is new. but fr, ok), sliiiiiight yandere niragi torwards the end. (also I tried not to describe in too much detail the bullying that niragi and the reader suffer in the fic so it wouldn’t be too sad).

@dreamingofanisland here it is bestie!

Niragi couldn’t pinpoint when he stopped being sad and when he started getting angry. From a suffocating hopelessness came a desperation he could only describe as feral. He often fantasized about just jumping over his desk and strangling each one of them to death but his thoughts quickly ended with Niragi envisioning himself being overpowered and beaten. He started to not only get angry at his bullies, but people in general. Things. Life.

How could so many people turn a blind eye? How could life be so unfair to give people like this the upperhand and not him? Not him that clearly deserved it? This world was backwards.

He knew he was fucked when he saw the bat, and although he braced for the impact he couldn’t help but fall to his knees and wince at the sickening sound that the baseball did in contact with his nose.

He just sat there and while all he wanted to do was to rip their throats with his teeth all he did was to endure a few more punches before they left with a promise that there would be more. He sat there trying not to cry with sheer frustration. His papers were scattered around, the left arm of his glasses was broken and his pristine black outfit was now covered in dust from the gravel, his hands scratched. He could taste blood on his tongue and he felt a sick satisfaction, pretending for one moment that it was another person’s blood he was tasting.

“Do you need help?”, a voice woke him from his violent daydreams. Suddenly everything boiled over and he felt an overwhelming anger rise inside of him. In a blink of an eye he was standing up, yelling at a somewhat blurry image of a girl who he towered over, even more as she shrunk under his anger. If he wouldn’t be so busy screaming profanities, he would be madly aroused.

“WHAT, HUH? CAME TO SEE THE SHOW? TO LAUGH AT ME?”, he was furious, and as he approached her, she proceeded to walk back.

“No. I just wanted to help”, she said. It seemed another flash and suddenly he could see a bit clearer. Although startled, she didn’t seem afraid of him, and was extending him a tissue. “Your nose is bleeding”, she said, and Niragi wanted to scoff at her for stating the obvious. But she was being kind. And as angry as he was, kindness wasn’t something that he could say no to. He tried his best to control his shaky hands as he took the tissue from her hands and carefully dabbed his nose, as she ducked to collect his papers, and tuck them back into his bag.

“Saw what they did to you. ‘m sorry”, she mumbled. Niragi wanted to strangle her out of sheer embarrassment.

“And you just took some popcorn and enjoyed the spectacle?”, he spat.

“I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. Would you rather if I had called someone?”, she asked. He breathed once, twice. She wasn’t mocking him, but was unnervingly calm. Something about her being calm while he was practically foaming at the mouth had him seeing red and suddenly he regret having wiped the blood off of his lips.

“No”, he said, calmly. “No, I wouldn’t. Sorry. I have to go”, he said, ripping his bag from her hands with such force that he tugged her arm with it.

“Wait! I mean what I said! I want to help!”

“You, help me? What are you going to do, huh? Be my bodyguard?”, he mocked her one more time. He couldn’t help himself, his brain got used to this. Fight or flight. His adrenaline was pumping and everytime he was around school grounds he looked over his shoulder.

“Hmmm, sorta? Not exactly but I could show you a place. A safe place”, she said. He just looked at her.

“If we get there and it’s a prank of some sort I’ll let you punch me. Square in the face”, she said.

“Are you insane? You just go around letting people punch you in the face?”, his mouth was quicker than his brains and suddenly he felt his face grow hot at the irony of what he had said. But if she noticed it, she didn’t mention.

“Let me help you”, she said.

And he did.

He followed her through a wooded area near the school grounds after walking through a hole in a fence.

He was getting ready to beat you to the punch and hit you so hard that you’d bleed as hard as he did, until you stopped until you reached a very underwhelming toolshed with a padlock.

“We’re here”, you said, and he realized that she sounded different. All this time she was on edge. ‘Of course, Suguru, you threatened the girl like, 3 times’, said the voice in the back of his head. She pulled a key from her bag and the padlock opened easily and they heavy chains fell to the ground and she pushed open the door, going inside. He hesitantly followed.

The inside is nothing as he thought it would be. For starters, it was surprisingly clean and it didn’t smell bad. And instead of tools and brooms and leafblowers, it had bean bags, blankets, a table with a radio full of knickknacks in the corner and a chair that had clearly seen better days but looked comfortable none the less. The girl walked to a corner of the room and his eyes followed her as she closed the door, which had small sharpie drawings on it. She reached for a white box and settled it on the floor between the two bean bags, and reached inside a very small thermos to pull out an artificially blue isotonic drink and settled it down too. Then from the plastic bag he previously assumed was trash, she pulled a bag of chips.

She then patted the bean bag next to hers. “Welcome to my clinic”, she said, placing the white box on her lap.

After an entire afternoon of bonding over unhealthy food and an impromptu first aid rescue, Niragi learned that her name was Y/N, she was a year below and that this little world she created was her refuge from the girls in her class that picked on her.

“I found this and decided that it would be nice. No one’s using it, it’s far from everything. It’s on the Beheaded Woman’s territory”.

Niragi heard the rumors through his bullies. “One day we’ll drag you to the Beheaded Woman’s woods and fucking kill you”. After further investigation, he learned that allegedly a girl was dragged through the woods and beheaded with a blunt axe.

“I made the rumors up. I had to make sure no one would find my safe haven”, she explained. “And once you write something in the girls’ bathroom stall, there’s no turning back. It’s out there and it’s truth”, she sighed. “I would know”.

He wasn’t the most up to date in all the gossip but she told him her story. The rumors they spread, the things they did to her. She almost seemed amused. He in turn told her his story. By the end of it, he could kill someone. She then offered him the other key to her safe haven.

“You can decorate it too. Don’t tell anyone else and make sure to lock it after you use it. Use it as much as you want, just make sure they don’t follow you, okay?”

He took the keys with shakey hands, a knot on his throat. Another type of adrenaline was pumping through his veins. When a few moments ago there were a fast white heat, coursing through him like an electric current, this was slow and almost overwhelmingly warm, like molten lava.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me?”, he whispered as if it was a secret, as if this moment was another fantasy, a deer that’s easily spooked. He had fantasized about this too. A safe haven, an ally. A friend.

“Because we’re the same, you and I”.

You hated him. You hated him with a burning passion. What was at first an act of pity, born from the empathy you felt by seeing someone go through what you did, quickly became a friendship and like a disease, it spread to beyond your safe haven. You would spend your free time together, walk home together. You became friends. And what did he do? Exactly what he told you he would.

“Sometimes don’t you wish to disappear?”, he whispered to you once.

“Yeah. Like, run away? Yeah, I do”, you replied agreeing with him.

‘You’re the only one that understands me. We really are the same’, he would say. What at the beginning of your budding crush on him gave you butterflies on the stomach now made you want to throw up.

You lost your only friend. You despised the sound of music now, because every single song you heard, you shared with him. For the same reason, you didn’t enjoy your favorite movies anymore. Your bullies banded together to target you. And the worst part of all, is that you couldn’t even care. There was no silver lining anymore.

“Don’t you get furious?! Don’t you want to hurt them, make them pay?”, he said as he watched you apply concealer to a bruised cheek.

“I mean, I get angry but I try my best to not let it get to me. It’s what they want. I despise those people, I can’t get in a funk because of them”, you said nonchalantly.

But you had loved him. And now you felt like even moving around was an herculean task, like you were almost dead trying to get to safety. But there was no safety anymore.

Ironically, you started to understand him more and more after he disappeared. The anger, the hatred. How could anyone just follow their lives? When there’s people like you just suffering through yours?

Suguru Niragi was an illness, a parasite. He carved his way under your skin and into your heart, laid eggs of his hate on your veins and sucked you dry of your life’s essence. Then, after you were a shell of a human, he disappeared out of thin air, leaving you alone. Leaving you with those people. Leaving you to die.

And you were still in love with him.

You thought you were finally insane when it happened.

The streets were empty. Absolutely no one. You wondered for a moment if you felt so alone that your mind convinced itself that that’s exactly what had happened, if any moment now you would be locked in an insane asylum for running around and screaming until you throat got raw.

It took you two games to understand what was going on. You made sure to change clothes. Running shoes, leggings and a warm hoodie that you never let the hood down. You decided to significantly shorten your hair after you saw a man pull a young girl by the ponytail in a spades game. You loaded a backpack with food and bottles of water, anything you could find. And an axe that you took from an emergency box from the building you slept in.

It was on your 5th game that it happened. You saw people die in these games, but none of it was hands on for you. You just watched your back and hoped to win and let whoever was running this show take care of the rest. Honestly, you didn’t even wait to know if anyone even survived. You were done doing that.

When you got there, there were five people already. They banded together and whispered amongst themselves as you passed them by and grabbed a phone. Probably just a group of friends that got stranded at the same time and decided to stay together. You clutched you axe harder.

You didn’t even realize that you had zoned out until you heard hollering and four guys heavily armed walked you by. Where the fuck did they get guns? One of them let out a boisterous laugh that reminded you of someone that you wanted desperately to forget. You couldn’t even get over him during fucking Saw? That sound made your skin crawl.

Registration closed, said the mechanic voice. Difficulty: 8 of clubs. The first 5 players will be the first team and the last 5 players will be the second. One team must eliminate the others without losing any players. Both teams will be identified by the color of your screen, and will have one minute to hide.

You saw the armed guys’ screens light up red. You sighed in relief as yours did too. You made sure to keep your head down and thank whoever that not killing teammates was a part of the rules. They seemed amused and absolutely calm, and the guy with the rifle laughed again. You were shaking by now.

When the minute started, everyone bolted in different directions. You didn’t even look back to see if your teammates had accompanied you but by the sound of your footsteps crushing leaves, you were alone. You decided to go back after a while, looking around. A lamppost. Huh, lamppost it is. You leaned against the cool metal and focused on the silence. The minute had ended but they were still hunting. You didn’t come across anyone, which was good. After a while, all you could hear were distant gunshots.

You looked to the floor, only to see a shadow approaching you quick. You barely had time to dodge before a man hit you behind the head with a rock. You reacting made him lose his balance, falling to the floor and letting go of the rock. You looked at him. It was one of the boys from the other team. He had on a white button up blouse and a black hoodie. His hair had fallen over his brown eyes and he looked so scared and so alone.

This will have to do.

You didn’t stop, suddenly lifting the axe and bringing it down was like an automatic thing.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME? AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ABANDONED ME IN A MINUTE, LEFT ME ALONE IN THAT HELL!”

You didn’t stop when he started praying and then screaming. You didn’t stop when he started bleeding profusely or when the strength of your movements made your hood slide down from your head. You didn’t stop when his head got detached from his body and if you weren’t so angry, you would’ve listened tfootsteps. You didn’t stop until you had made mincemeat out of his face. Just for the sheer audacity of reminding you of him.

He looked at you from afar while you looked at the body of the boy whose skull you just had destroyed, a maniac, victorious smile on your face. You were pretending the boy was him. You really thought he had abandoned you? He would be absolutely heartbroken if he wasn’t so aroused. That’s what he always wanted to see, the instincts that you tried to push down. You were right, you were both the same. He wanted to lick that blood off of you, use it as lube to take you right there. When he first arrived at the Borderlands, when he first killed someone and liked it, he thought you would be disgusted by him. But look at you now. You were here, perfect for him, soaked in blood, feral. He’s never been so hard.

“Y/N”, he said.

“Niragi?,” you said. He ran to you, held you even when you fought back, even when you screamed bloody murder that you were going insane, begging to die already, even when you passed out on his arms. He licked a drop of blood from your neck.

“Let me take you to our safe haven”, he whispered against your skin.

#niragi loving hours in this mf house #niragi x reader #niragi fic #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #niragi imagine #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland fic #niragi suguru x reader #suguru niragi x reader

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alj4890 · 3 years ago

Note

Hi,if Liam would sing and play guitar to pregnant Riley,what song would it be?Please use the guitar of Liam's mum 😊

😭 WHY DIDN'T PB LET THIS HAPPEN???? Oh goodness. That would have been a scene I would have thrown diamonds at to get. It would have been so sweet! I doubt I can do it justice, but I will try 😭

I'm using the lullaby that was sung in a classic movie from the 1950s, Bundle of Joy. My mom is the one to give me my love for classic cinema and she had this particular movie playing often when I was little. I ended up memorizing this song along with the others in it, LOL. I also sang it to my boys when rocking them to sleep. Poor things. They were stuck with my awful singing voice. No wonder they fell asleep so quickly when they were infants 😂

Lullaby In Blue from Bundle of Joy.

@gkittylove99 @darley1101 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @twinkleallnight @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305

Masterlist

Sweet Memories

"Liam?" Drake rounded the corner when he heard something he hadn't heard since he was little.

He saw his friend sitting outside, strumming an old guitar.

"Is that your mom's" he asked.

Liam's cheeks heated with color. "It is." He set it aside and stood up.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he avoided eye contact.

"I didn't know you played guitar." Drake muttered.

He was curious at Liam's reaction to being caught with it.

"I learned how after her death."

Drake's eyebrow lifted. "You did? How come you never told any of us?"

Liam shrugged. "It was a way for me to hold on to her memory." His brow furrowed. "Now that Riley is pregnant, I want to pass that on to our child." He hesitated. "But I've been trying for weeks now to remember the lyrics to a song my mother used to sing to me."

He felt such guilt over this. Each day, he would tell Riley he was going for a walk around Valtoria. He had been using that as a time to practice and hopefully jog his memory.

It was eating him up inside that he couldn't remember the very song his mother would sing to him at night if he had a nightmare or felt unwell.

"Why is it that I can only recall the melody?" He raked his hands through his hair. "I wish Father was here. Perhaps he knew the song."

Drake folded his arms and tried to think back to anyone who might have heard it. "I bet my dad knew it too."

Liam sat down once more and picked up the acoustic guitar. His fingers moved over the wood as he willed his memories to come back to him.

He could see her so clearly. Her blonde hair in a neat bun. The blue dress that perfectly matched her eyes. Her bright smile as she let him strum while she made the chords.

He could almost hear her laughter when he made up silly lyrics to go along with the music she created. Her sweet encouragement that he too had musical talent.

"Do you like my song for frogs?" His six year old self had asked.

"Like it?" Eleanor reached out and gently ruffled his hair. "I adore it, dearest. I've never heard a more perfect ballad for amphibians."

"I'm running out of time." Liam explained. "In a couple of weeks, the baby will be able to hear us." He turned to Drake. "I wanted one of the first sounds that he or she heard be a song from their grandmother."

"Somebody has to remember it." Drake argued. "Maybe Maxwell or Olivia. They spent time with her too."

Liam felt a glimmer of hope. "They are supposed to arrive tomorrow for a visit." He set the guitar back in the guest house he had hidden it in. "I'll find a way to talk to them without Riley knowing."

"She doesn't know?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise for her too." Liam smiled softly. "I told her I played guitar during our date at Ramsford. She's never heard me play before. This can be something special for her and the baby."

****************

"I remember that!" Maxwell exclaimed. He hummed the rest of the tune.

"You do?" Liam felt his hope grow. " Can you remember the words?"

"Sure." Maxwell hummed the beginning. "Um...it went...hmm." His brow furrowed. "What were the words?"

Liam practically deflated. If Maxwell couldn't remember a song then all hope was most assuredly lost.

"I remember snippets." Maxwell paced back and forth. "Like, Sandman is commin and he'll be here--"

Liam sat up when those words jogged his memory. "Mighty, mighty soon. And if you don't cry--"

"He'll be dropping by with the great big lollipop moon." Maxwell belted out. "I always loved that part of the song. Who wouldn't want the Sandman to bring them a moon shaped lollipop for going to sleep?"

Liam strummed along, repeating the words Maxwell had remembered. He stilled at not recalling any of the others. "How does it begin? Or for that matter, end?"

Maxwell sat down beside him. "It'll come back to you." He patted Liam's back. "Just keep at it."

****************

The next day, Liam took a walk with Olivia.

"I've been digging around some more about Bradshaw and Isabella. Nothing concrete yet, but it never hurts to have something on them." She told him.

Liam wasn't overly concerned at the moment with the monarchs wanting an alliance with Cordonia. "Do you remember my mother's songs she used to sing to us?"

Olivia stilled. "What brought that to mind?"

Liam averted his eyes. "I've been trying to remember a song she would sing to help me sleep. It was some type of lullaby that made me smile. Maxwell remembered part of it, but the beginning lyrics have eluded me."

Olivia began to walk forward again.

He couldn't help but notice how tense she appeared.

"Olivia? Is something wrong?" He jogged to catch up.

He then saw the tears in her eyes.

She took a deep breath. "What difference does it make if you can or can't remember a song?"

He stepped back from the bitterness in her tone. "I wanted to sing it to the baby." He slipped his hands into his pants. "I've been practicing on her guitar and wanted..." He sighed. "I wanted my child to have something precious of my mother's. You remember how much she loved music."

Olivia lowered her eyes. "I do. Queen Eleanor would hum and sing even when walking down the halls."

"I didn't mean to upset you with my question." Liam apologized, regretting the fact he had dragged his friends into this.

"No. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did." She sniffed and squared her shoulders.

Although thoughts of her childhood held a great deal of bitterness, Liam and his mother had been the one bright spot in her lonely existence. She couldn't deny him her help, no matter the heartache those memories contained.

"Now. What song is it?"

Liam led her to the guest house. He strummed the tune and noticed her expression light up in recognition.

Before he could even ask, a clear alto slipped from Olivia's lips as she sang the song.

🎵Hushaby... rockaby. Listen to my lullaby in blue

Bluelululululululu

How I love my pretty baby

Sweet and precious pretty baby

How I love my pretty baby

Honest to goodness I do

See here, Sandman is commin'

And he'll be here

Mighty mighty soon

And if you don't cry, he'll be droppin' by

With a great big lollypop moon🎵

Liam joined in, remembering how the rest was sung with two people. That thought reminded him of the times his mother encouraged his father to join in, their voices blending into a sweet note as they focused on their young child.

🎵Dream dream dream (How I love my pretty baby)

Be an angel

Dream dream dream (Sweet and precious, pretty baby)

Be a darling

I love my pretty baby (How I love my pretty baby)

Honest to goodness I do

Bluelulululululu🎵

"It's called Lullaby in Blue." Olivia told him. "Your mom sang it to me when I first came to live with you." Her eyes became distant as she thought back. "I asked her to teach it to me so that I could sing it to my stuffed dragon when he had trouble sleeping."

Liam reached over and grasped her hand. "Thank you. I know you don't like thinking of the past," he squeezed her fingers, "but being able to share this song means everything to me."

Olivia slowly smiled. "You better practice then. Your child deserves nothing but the best."

She wrote down the lyrics and left him alone to practice.

When he began to sing the words, he could hear his mother's voice singing too.

***************

A few week's later...

"How are you feeling, my love?" Liam asked one evening.

Riley rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm fine. I think the baby is not too happy I ate those brownies Hana made, but i am determined to not throw them up."

Liam pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I have a surprise."

"You do?" She sat up with a big smile. "What is it?"

"Wait right here." He left her on the couch to retrieve the guitar.

Her eyebrows raised when he returned with it in hand. "Liam! Is that your mother's?"

He paused before her. "You remembered."

"Of course I do. How could I ever forget our first date?" She patted the spot next to her for him to sit. "You promised me that night that one day you might play for me." Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "I didn't know a girl had to get pregnant to get serenaded around here."

Liam chuckled at that. He was touched that she recalled their date so clearly. That was the best night of his entire social season, well other than seeing her again at the Masquerade Ball.

Hearing she loved him during the Coronation Ball was also up there. If only it had ended differently.

He pushed those memories to the side. "I thought it might be time to start sharing with the baby a song my mother used to sing to me."

Riley's smile turned tender. "I think that sounds wonderful."

She watched, fighting back tears, as he positioned himself on the floor so that he could sing directly to her belly. The expression on his face as he began the lullaby was one that touched her heart.

His love and wonder for their unborn child was stamped across his handsome features. Each word he sang was done so with a smile unlike any she had ever seen before.

When he ended the song, he pressed a kiss to her baby bump.

"I hope you liked that." He gently rubbed her tummy. "It was a favorite of mine from my mother. I wish you could have met her. She was the kindest, most gentle woman I have ever met." His hand moved to hold Riley's. "We're lucky though that you have a mother just as wonderful as mine was."

"Liam." Riley gave up on not crying.

He pressed a kiss to her hand before continuing. "I love you and your mother more than anything. I intend on you hearing that every single day I am blessed to have with you." His fingers tangled with Riley's. "That song is a reminder of just how beloved you already are to both of us."

Riley tugged him back on the couch. She kissed him, whispering how much she loved him, how happy he made her.

The two cuddled together and thought of the day coming soon when their family would at last be complete.

#liam x riley #choices the royal heir #King Liam #choices trh #choices the stories you play #choices fan fiction #requests

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kitkatd7 · 4 years ago

Text

What Could’ve Been; Broken Hearts & Whiskey Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky finally starts trying to get his shit together but when you show up with another man it throws everyone for a loop.

Warnings: Angst! Overprotective Bucky, Pissed reader, Threats, womanizing character who gets what he deserves, Talk of the breakup, Cursing that Steve would be ashamed of, Tiniest bit of fluff but not really.

Word Count: 3,331

A/N: I’m finally backkk!!! I’ve been wanting to work on this series for some time now and I’m finally getting a bit of motivation to do so! I hope you enjoy it!

A/N 2: Entire paragraphs of italics are flashbacks, single sentences of italics are internal thoughts, Bold italics are song lyrics. I used lyrics from the song What Could’ve Been by Gone West for this story.

Masterlist of Masterlists || Marvel Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Part 1

-----------------------------------------

**2 Months After Breakup**

Waltzing into the living room of the Avengers tower, you're met with a chorus of greetings from your adopted family. Despite you and Bucky being over you still spend time with everyone else- just when he isn’t around.

You haven’t seen him since you broke up and you’d like to keep it that way. Seeing him would just be more than you could handle; you already lost him so why remind yourself of it more often than you already do? But at the same time his absence from movie night is just as painful of a reminder- like a puzzle with a lost piece.

Snapping back to reality you give a halfhearted smile, joining Steve and Sam on the couch as Natasha hits play on ‘John Wick’.

----------------------------------------

2 hours later you’re standing in the kitchen making snacks with Sam before the next movie starts. “That’s ridiculous, Sammy!” You giggle, watching the microwave timer count down until the popcorn is ready. “Bacon does not belong in ice cream.”

You hear him chuckle behind you as he empties M&M’s into bowls. “Bacon belongs in everything, sweetheart. You're gonna try it sometime or else...”

“Or else what, Sa-” You cut off as you turn around, frozen on the spot as you peer over

Sam’s shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” Bucky whispers. Your gaze travels up and down the man you used to know, but he’s different. His eyes have bags beneath them from lack of sleep, his hair longer and more unruly than it was the last time you saw him. The stubborn jawline you remembered was replaced by a nervous clenched jaw. His eyes once so bright were now timid and dull; no longer holding the same sparkle that used to make you smile.

In an instant your expression went from a carefree woman with her friends to the girl who’s heart was shattered by the stranger before you whose face you used to know so well.

“Can we talk?” Bucky asks gently, his expression hopeful yet dreading.

“What are you doing here, James?” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself as Sam looks between you both carefully.

“I live here,” Bucky nearly scoffs.

“Barnes,” Sam warns, his shoulders tense as he glances at you worriedly.

“I don’t want to talk to you, James. I have nothing to say.”

“All you have to do is listen. Please, doll.”

Despite your best efforts to appear unbothered, the nickname shatters your false bravado. “Don’t call me that,” your voice breaks as tears cloud your vision.

“Excuse me,” you whisper, rushing past both men, ignoring Bucky’s call of your name and attempt to stop you.

“Let her go, man. You’ve done enough,” you hear Sam say as you flee down the hallway, slamming the bathroom door behind you.

Locking the door you turn on the faucet as the tears begin to fall and the suppressed memories rush back:

**2 Months Before Breakup* Flashbacks*

“It’s midnight! Where the hell were you?” You yelled, tears pricking your eyes.

Bucky sighed in defeat, his expression resigned and cold. “Can we do this in the morning?” His tone more of an order than a request as he turns his back on you and begins to walk down the hallway of your apartment.

“No, we can’t do it in the morning. You owe me an explanation. You were supposed to be here when my parents got here. You promised.” You sniffled as Bucky’s shoulders stiffened. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a good enough reason,” he mumbles before walking away.

I haven't stopped thinking about you

Has it really been this long?

Two years and an ocean between us

And I don't know where it all went wrong

I know I coulda kissed you harder

And yeah, you coulda followed through

Shoulda talked a little bit softer

But we meant every "I love you"

**1 Month Before Breakup**

Glancing around the restaurant you see no sign of Bucky. Checking your phone for the 8th time in the past 10 minutes, you sigh. Where is he? You’ve been here for an hour; waiting in your new dress for the man who hadn’t bothered to show. You’re getting tired of the pitiful looks the waitress and the other customers are shooting you. Polishing off your second glass of wine you open your phone: no new messages.

You’ve already sent Bucky 5 texts and called him 4 times; you're done.

Paying for the wine quickly you all but flee the restaurant, trying to hold back your tears. If you weren’t so upset you would probably laugh; laugh at yourself for being so naive to think he would keep his word. But you can’t bring yourself to laugh, not while your heart slowly shatters at the hands of the man who swore never to hurt you.

I don't know what this is or what it isn't

But it feels like we've got unfinished business

**2 Months Ago; AKA Week of Breakup**

“Hey this is y/n, I can’t come to the phone right now cuz I’m out livin my life! Leave it at the beep.” He hears your all too familiar voicemail through the speaker. He had helped you come up with it, you hadn’t known what to put on it. He kicks himself, knowing you weren’t actually out living your life, just dodging his calls. Not that he blamed you- He deserved it and he knew it. Calling again, he’s not surprised when he hears your voicemail again.

“Hey… Um, listen, I know I was supposed to be at your place after the mission… I just wanted to unwind with the guys and- Shit. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think you would mind that much, I’ll be over in a bit to make it up to you, okay?” He leaves the message and ends the call before starting his car and driving towards your apartment, guilt heavy in his stomach.

You listen to his voicemail over and over, a strange mix of rage and sorrow weighing on your heart.

Tears roll slowly down your cheeks silently as you lay curled up in a defensive ball on your bed, trying to block out the unmistakable sound of Bucky begging you to open the front door; “Babe, please open the door,” He says, fist resting gently against the frame. “I’m sorry- really, really sorry. Please let me in and we can talk about it,” He sighs, resting his head against the door in defeat. He could break the lock and go in. You both know that. But he wouldn’t do that to you- All that would do is make you fear him and that’s the last thing he wants. He slides his back down the wall til he’s sitting on the floor next to your door, his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair; Tears gathering in his lashes. He really messed up this time.

The next day you drag yourself out of bed, trying to forget last night and all the tears you shed. After a shower and breakfast, you head out the door for a coffee run before work. You stop in your tracks when you see Bucky still sitting there, eyes red from lack of sleep and regret written all over his face. He jumps up when you walk out, keys in hand, the door closing behind you. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I came to apologize,” he murmurs, looking in your eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you bite, moving to step around him but stopping when he steps to block your path.

“Bucky, I’m going to be late for work,” you say coldly, glaring at him. “Move out of the way.”

“Please doll, just let me explain-”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I understand perfectly, James.” You watch as he flinches a little at the use of his first name. You only use it when you're really mad or really happy, and it isn’t the latter right now. “You were too busy with your beer buddies to come see your girlfriend after being gone for three weeks, but what’s new? It’s been like this for months. I guess it was naive of me to expect something else this time.”

'Cause we left blood the on the tracks

Sweat on the saddle

Fire in the hills

A bullet in the barrel

Words never said in a story that didn't end

Looks like you're on the mend and I'm on the bottle

We folded our hands with money on the table

**Present Day**

All the broken promises, nights alone and tears came rushing back as sobs racked your body. Sliding down the door you rest your head between your knees, eyes screwing shut tightly in a useless attempt to stop the bittersweet memories and tears.

Little do you know that outside the door sat a man with tears clouding his vision as he listened to your muffled sobs on the other side of the door. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to turn back time and undo all of the agony he caused you and hold you like he's been wishing he could for the past 2 months. You were just on the other side of the door, separated from him by a few inches of wood and yet you had never been farther away. What did he do?

Tried moving on, but I keep coming back again

To what could've been

What could've been

Oh, what could've been

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

-------------------------------------------

Stumbling into your apartment you all but throw your keys and purse down before shuffling into the bathroom and turning on the hot water for a shower before turning back to the mirror.

The person you see looking back at you in the mirror isn’t who you remember- or at least not who you thought you were. The person you remember was carefree and happy; living in a dream with the love of their life. You don’t recognize the girl in the mirror with swollen, bloodshot eyes and shoulders that hold the weight of the world. What happened to the girl you used to know?

A single tear rolled down your cheek, leaving a mournful trail in its wake. Bucky. Bucky happened to that girl.

There had always been doubt hidden in the back of your mind; doubt that your beautifully woven reality would become nothing more than a tangled web of what once was and could’ve been, but you never thought it would end like this. You had imagined it being another girl that came between you, or perhaps his self loathing or the inadequacy you felt. Never did you think it would be the unexplainable, cold, unfeeling resentment that had taken over the gentle, sweet man you thought you knew. Where did it go wrong?

A couple more simple, "I'm sorry's"

A little less tryna be right

I wonder how many good mornings we wasted

'Cause we didn't say goodnight

One touch before we fell asleep

Just before our love was out of reach

Coulda been enough, coulda saved us from this loneliness

------------------------------------------

“Steve?” Bucky calls out as he strides into the training room, the door banging shut behind him. Whirling around Steve clutches a hand to his chest. “Jesus, Buck! You scared the hell out of me!”

“I need your help,” Bucky demands, jaw set in a firm line and his eyes glittering with determination.

Steve runs a hand over his face, letting out a sigh. “Is this about Y/N and the other night? Because if it is I am not apologizing to the poor girl for you, so you can just-”

“I want her back.”

“You what?!” Steve exclaimed, his jaw dropping.

“I want her back- I need her back. And I need you to help me.”

“Damn it, Bucky. It’s been 2 months and you saw how she still feels about what you did. How are we gonna fix that?”

“I don’t know yet, Steve… But I have to try. Please.”

-----------------------------

Strolling into Tony’s party happily, you smile up at your date, your arm linked with his.

You greet Tony with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek before turning towards the sound of Natasha calling your name. Sashaying towards her you give her a hug before turning to give Thor and Steve one as well.

“So, who’s this?” Nat asks, gesturing towards your date who’s eyeing her unabashedly, his gaze dropping to her neckline.

“Oh, sorry! This is Jordan!”

You roll your eyes as Thor begins lightly interrogating him, but he doesn’t pay much attention, his gaze fixed on Natasha’s retreating form.

“Can we talk?” Steve asks, his hand resting gently on your forearm. Following him into a nearby corridor you give him a puzzled look. “Is something wrong, Steve?”

“Um, not exactly…” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, what is it then?”

“It’s about Bucky.” Seeing your irritated expression he holds up his hands innocently. “Wait a minute. Just hear me out, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Look, he’s been spiraling since you guys broke up; not eating, always working and out on missions constantly, and his nightmares are getting worse again.”

“Why should I care?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend like you don’t still love hi- Actually, fine, Y/N. If you want to pretend that you don’t care then that’s your problem. Just know that seeing you the other night? Changed something. He’s trying again, and I don’t want to see him lose that. So even if you want to tell yourself that it doesn’t matter to you, at least think about it for me.” Steve turned away, pausing for a moment. “Oh, and by the way? Seeing you here tonight with someone else isn’t gonna be good for anyone… But why should you care, right?”

Taken aback by Steve’s lack of usual patience, you can only watch as he walks off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving you with mixed emotions and a hard decision ahead of you; what were you gonna do?

No matter how hard you tried to block out thoughts of Bucky they always managed to slip back in between the cracks in your shattered heart. Steve was right; you did care. But what were you supposed to do about it tonight? Especially about Jordan. Were you supposed to walk up to him and say ‘oh, by the way you have to leave because my ex is here and he may or may not rip your arms off? No, that wouldn’t work.

Racking your brain for a solution, you snag a glass of champagne from one of the passing trays, downing it in the hopes of drowning your mixed emotions - it didn’t work. Taking a deep breath, you start weaving between the sea of bodies towards where you left Jordan.

Spotting Thor and Tony you make your way towards them, smirking when you hear Tony arguing with Thor over… something.

“Where’s Jordan?” you ask, joining their small circle and trying to shake off your conversation with Steve.

“He was here a minute ago… I’m not sure though, kiddo,” Tony says, giving you a puzzled glance. “Speak of the devil, here he is!” Tony exclaims as you look over your shoulder to see a slightly ruffled Jordan walking towards you, his eyes holding an unnatural hazy look.

“Where were you?” You ask lightly, gaze raking his bedraggled form; his shirt slightly untucked, hair mused and lips pink.

“Oh um, nowhere. Just the bathroom.”

Accepting another glass of champagne, you push down the fury in your chest. You’d just taken a sip when an all too familiar figure came to stand beside you; a scotch glass in his hand and clad in an unfairly attractive black suit. “Hey Y/N, who’s this?”

Nearly choking on your drink, your eyes widen. “Bucky! What are you doing here? You hate these parties!” You say before you can stop yourself. Stupid. The offhanded statement would seem innocent to most, but to you- to you it was a reminder that you still knew him better than anyone else did, a reminder that you remembered all the nights alone together instead of at the noisy parties, a reminder that you still cared enough to remember.

You could see that he was thinking the same thing. “This is Jordan. My…” you faded off, not quite sure what to call him.”

“Date,” Jordan finishes for you, wrapping his left arm around your waist lazily, his hand traveling slightly further than appropriate for the first date. “But we’re keeping things loose, isn’t that right?” Jordan asks, glancing at you but not waiting for an answer. “And who the hell are you?”

Your eyes widen in shock, glancing back and forth between the two men; taking in Jordan’s cocky smirk and Bucky’s knowing look.

Bucky extended his hand, a malicious smirk on his lips and dark glint in his eyes as he took in the unprofessional state of Jordan- including the lipstick stain on his white button down- and the uncomfortable shift of your weight, leaning away from your sorry excuse of a date.

Jordan accepted the outstretched hand, wincing visibly and paling at Bucky’s iron grip. “Bucky Barnes,” Bucky offered, enjoying as the other man wriggled uncomfortably in his grip, his arrogance forgotten. His gaze lighted on Bucky’s metal arm, his eyes lighting with recognition and terror.

“Holy- you're the Winter Soldier! God man, I’ve heard so much about you-”

“An honor, I’m sure,” Bucky drawls, looking bored, his voice dropping an octave in warning. “Now get lost.”

You sputter defiantly as Jordan scurries off, his tail between his legs.

“What was that for?!” you fume,a fire burning in your eyes as you turn on Bucky.

“Oh c’mon. The guys’ been eyeing every other woman in here! He’s a douche! What was I supposed to do? Just let him feel you up after sneaking off with who knows what girl?”

“Who ‘feels me up’ is none of your concern anymore!”

“Come off it, Y/N! You didn’t even want him touching you! I was protecting you, so your welcome,” he huffed.

“I don’t need protecting, and I sure as hell don’t need you to protect me. So you can go fuck yourself, James. You can’t treat me like shit for months and then get mad when someone else does the same thing!” you snarl, spinning on your heel and storming off as Bucky watches you.

Bucky stalks across the floor, the crowd parting before him; not willing to get in the way of the 6 foot man on a mission. Locating his target- dancing with another girl no less- he grabs him roughly by the collar before pushing him against a pillar.

“What the hell, dude?” Jordan fumes, eyes locking on Bucky’s before he goes slack, his eyes widening in horror when he recognizes the former assassin.

“Every single thing you’ve ever heard about me is true, so shut up and listen closely,” Bucky growls, his arm braced against Jordans chest forcefully, a murderous glint in his eyes. “I expect you to do exactly what I say, and if you don’t, I’ll know. First, you are going to get your sorry ass out of here, and then you are going to send Y/N an apology text, telling her what an asshole you are, and that you don’t deserve to even look at her. Then, you are not going to get within 1,000 feet of her, and you are not going to text, call, or even think about her ever again, or I swear to God I will hunt you down, cut your balls off and shove them down your goddamn throat, got it? Nod if you understand. Good. Now. Get. Out.”

Releasing Jordan, Bucky watches as he falls to the floor before scrambling towards the door with the fear of God instilled in him.

“What the hell did you just do, Bucky?”

-----------------------------------

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wastelandnarry · 4 years ago

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Georgia - hes

summary: He never should of told her, never should’ve let her see inside at what was troubling his mind. Now he’s singing Georgia on his mind.

author’s notes: inspired by Georgia - Vance Joy. I have wanted to write something with this song for the longest time and I thought it matched a Harry scenario perfectly! I hope you guys enjoy!

warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of food, breakup, angst.

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Harry watched her from the window as she walked through the crowd. His eyes had caught hers once or twice during the night already and he was convinced that he'd lose his mind if it happened again. The party had been a distraction for him, a way to get his mind off of the stress of his upcoming film and maybe even just to let loose for the first time in months. He'd been nursing the drink in his hand, the soft pink liquid in the glass swirling with whatever edible glitter that had been added in. If he was being honest, he'd only grabbed the drink after having watched her grab one for herself and smile to herself when she took a sip. She was electric, the people around her hanging onto every word that left her, something Harry watched from a distance, hoping that eventually the courage would kick in and he'd be able to walk over to her.

She was, after all, his ex-girlfriend.

Georgia had come into Harry's life all at once and he wasn't too sure how he'd managed to convince her to date him. She was kind and bold, always knowing when to reassure him on the days when his confidence was low. She was giving and had a laugh that Harry could listen to on repeat if it was ever possible. Georgia was something to behold and Harry had somehow managed to be loved by her. Their whirlwind of a relationship had started one night after they'd run into each other for the fifth time at the coffee shop near Harry's studio. He'd been up for an ungodly amount of hours and needed a caffeine kick. He was convinced that he looked more like a mummy than an actual human and just his luck, Georgia had been sitting in her usual seat.

She'd been typing away on her laptop with the steaming mug of a vanilla latte, the one Harry learned she always got, cooling off next to her. Her eyes had been focused on the screen in front of her, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as Harry thanked his luck that she hadn't spotted how out of it he looked that day. That was until the barista called his name out and her eyes shot up, meeting his in the loud and bustling shop. Her kind smile, the one that Harry would remember long after their occasional run-in, had left Harry breathless as he rushed over to grab his drink.

"Early morning?" her voice, which Harry decided was the best thing he'd heard all morning, said as she walked past him when she walked past him to throw away the banana peel she'd been holding onto, "You don't usually pop in until much later."

"Oh, so you've noticed me?" Harry asked and chuckled, trying his best to mask his embarrassment as he pulled down the hoodie that had been covering the unruly curls on his head.

"Hard not to, considering everyone in this place goes quiet the second you walk in here. Which I should thank you for, gives me a moment of peace and clarity," she nodded and chuckled, "Georgia, it's nice to meet you,"

"Harry,"

"Yeah, I assumed."

Waking up most days, the sun was barely peeking out behind the clouds and Harry had always felt the pull his bed gave him. If he didn't rub his eyes and stretched out his back, he could almost hear the mattress whispering, "come back to bed, Harry," which was all he wanted to do. But he was an adult and his latest movie project had called for some very early morning call times. So there Harry was, waking up before the sun even made it's presence known to the world, sliding on some comfy joggers and his favorite hoodie to shield him from the morning cold.

"Bub," Georgia's tired voice whined out from his bed, "Too early, don't go."

"I'm sorry, bug, I've got to head out soon, shooting early today and tomorrow," Harry sighed, looking over at the lump in the blankets that was his girlfriend, "Go back to bed, yeah?"

"Wanna kiss," she yawned and peeked out from the blankets, her tired eyes meeting Harry's in the dim-lit room.

Harry smiled, his feet padding against the wood floors as he made his way over to her side of the bed. Harry had asked her if she'd wanted to move in a few weeks before, which had resulted in Harry's place being filled with pieces of her and him mixed in with one another. His hand found a spot on her hip, rubbing a pattern onto the exposed skin as he leaned down to press a kiss onto her lips. He knew it was dangerous. The kisses shared between the two of them usually ended with moans and whimpers being let out into the room and Harry really couldn't afford to be late to filming. But Georgia's soft lips on his pulled him closer into her, and the bed, and he found himself with that same pulling feeling his mattress would give him back when he was alone.

"Have fun today, yeah?" Georgia breathed out, her forehead resting against Harry's as they both took in one last moment together.

The drive to the set, which was usually when Harry drove in silence and tried to get into character, was filled with soft music. Harry's fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he hummed along to the playlist his phone had been playing for the past couple of weeks, a mix of his favorites, Georgia's favorites, and songs that reminded them of one another. Harry had been stopped at a red light when a song he'd picked for the playlist started playing, his smile growing as he heard the opening strums of the guitar.

"...I could easily lose my mind, the way you kiss me will work each time, calling me to come back to bed singing Georgia on my mind..."

Walking back through the front door, something Harry had done more times than he could count, after his tiring day at the studio, he hadn't expected to be met with Georgia dancing around the living room. Music floated through the house; one of Georgia's favorite things about his place, which she'd told him late one night in bed, was how great the acoustics were and how the music just sounded better. Harry watched as her she danced along to the beat of her favorite song, one which had been on repeat for the past two weeks. His heart swelled and his tired body seemed to spring to life as he watched Georgia turn and face him, her eyes wide and filled with innocence at behind caught lost in a moment.

“Harry!” she said excitedly and rushed over to pull him into a tight hug, one that Harry happily returned, “How was it?”

“Was okay, darling, not as entertaining as that dance though,” he teased, his lips finding her forehead, “What a nice show to walk into.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” she mumbled and rolled her eyes, “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

Dinner has been filling, the wine shared between Harry and Georgia making them both warm and fuzzy. They’d cleaned up, humming along to the song that was playing from the living room, and before they knew it they were both laying on the couch taking one another in. Harry had found comfort between Georgia’s thighs, his body slotting in between hers as if they were made to be, his lips exploring the softness of her own. Harry could’ve kissed her for the rest of his life if he tried, he might’ve already been doing that. He always seemed to lose track of time whenever Georgia was in his arms and her lips were on his. The wine certainly hadn’t helped, their movements clumsy and slow as the took each other in and explored their bodies together. It wasn’t until he felt Georgia’s hips push up against his, both of them letting out a groan, that he slowly pulled away. His eyes opened to find a view that had been so heavenly to him in the past couple of months since their relationship had started.

“What is it…?” Georgia asked, her chest rising and falling with the panty breathes she was taking.

“You just…you’re breathtaking,” he whispered, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face, “I don’t deserve your love,” he mumbled.

Underneath him, Georgia was the definition of breathtaking. Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated, taking over him and leaving Harry with goosebumps on his skin, almost as if she was touching him all over and yet not at all. Her lips, which Harry has been attacking not too long ago, were plush and pink, a sheen of their shared spit still covering them. Her hair had been tousled and no longer framed her face while she laid on the couch, it was poking out in different directions and she might’ve called it horrendous at that angle but Harry loved it. He loved everything about Georgia, she was the one who could make him lose his mind.

“Oh please,” Georgia laughed and shook her head, turning to press a soft kiss into Harry’s palm, “I could never and would never want to love anyone else, Harry.”

“Yeah?” he whispered, fear flashing across his face for just a second before it was gone without a trace at the feel of Georgia’s lips on his again, “I love you, bug.”

“I love you more.”

Georgia was leaving. Her business trip would take her away for almost a week, leaving Harry with a pain in his chest that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard he’d try to push it. He walked her through the train station, holding her bag tightly in his hand as they strolled hand in hand towards the platform. Harry’s heart raced as he felt her lips on his for the last time in a while, his throat aching as he watched her board the train and walked out of view until she found a seat near the window where she could wave goodbye. He wasn’t used to this, being the one who would wave off their lover, he was always the one who was leaving. But as the train screeched and sped off, leaving Harry alone on the platform staring at the brick wall ahead of him, he couldn’t believe Georgia had done this for him countless times.

He’s gone back home alone, the passenger seat next to him feeling cold and he found himself pouting when his hand was met with the feel of leather instead of the softness of Georgia’s thigh. He’d stayed by the phone most of the evening, watching for any updates that she might send on her journey to a city far away from Harry. He had no idea how she did this every time Harry had to leave for a tour or for a movie project, she’d only been gone for a few hours and he’d found himself walking aimlessly around the house, waiting for a sign that she was okay. It was horrible, the waiting and the anxiousness that came with it all.

By the fourth day, Harry had realized just how much he’d taken Georgia for granted. He missed her like crazy. He missed the way she always curled up next to him in bed, how her hand always found his in the middle of the night and gave it a squeeze to show him she was still there beside him. He missed her soft voice and how it sounded while she was on a work call and Harry was in his office or reading through a script. He missed the way her arms would wrap around him and how she would hide her face in his chest, leaving kisses on his skin until he laughed and peppered her skin with kisses. By the fourth day of Georgia being gone, he realized just how hard it must’ve been to be with him.

On the fifth day, Harry had called her after one too many drinks and told her how he felt. His slurred voice rambled on about how he never realized how unfair he has been to her and how she deserved a better relationship. He told her all about how he’d felt since she been gone and how he couldn’t imagine feeling like this every other month. He’d rambled on for minutes on end, his drunken truths interrupted only by the sniffles he’d get caught up in before returning to his original point. The one that Georgia had been trying to figure out for the past hours since he’s hung up the phone. The one that had left her in her hotel room, wiping away the tears Harry had brought on.

“I’m not good enough for you,” he’d choked out, “I leave and disappear for weeks on end and you just…you just wait for me to get back. Do you wait with the same hole in your chest that I have? Because I’d never wish this on anyone, bug, it’s horrendous.”

It had all happened too fast, the rambling and the tears and hit Georgia’s ears before she even had time to think of a response. It felt like seconds had passed since she’s answered the call, excited to tell Harry all about her advent ours day in a city she’d never been to, only to have her heartbroken. Then, as if some cruel joke was being played on her, time slowed down. Every ring to Harry’s dragged on and on until his voicemail message was heard and the line went dead. She’d spent the rest of her night listening to the droning sound, hoping that eventually Harry would answer and she could calm him down, show him the truth, and tell him that she loved him. But the phone was never picked up and the pit in Georgia’s stomach was filled with anxiety.

Arriving back at the platform where she had last seen Harry, her eyes searched the massive crowd of people, her nerves rose as she walked out of the station alone. Her cab ride back home had been silent, her fingers playing with the necklace around her neck nervously as she watched the familiar streets pass by her window, hoping that when she got home she’d be met with the sight of her lover. It had been two days since the call with Harry. Two days since she’d heard from him or even got a text back from him. She was used to the silence, it was something that happened sometimes when Harry’s job became bust and chaotic and he lost himself in it all. But this time around things were different and Harry had been promised at least a couple of weeks off to relax and regain who he was. He was meant to be at home with the people he loved.

Georgia was met with an empty house, the sound of her bag hitting the floor echoing throughout the large rooms. She’d walked through the whole place, calling our Harry’s name only to be met with more silence. It wasn’t until she walked into the bedroom and saw the small card on her pillow that the fear in her truly rose. She must’ve sat on the bed and read through the damn note a thousand times, her body too in shock to move and too anxious to accept that he was gone.

“It’s better this way, bug. You deserve someone who can truly love you the way you are meant to be loved. All I do is cause you pain, I’m barely here for you and I couldn’t even handle less than a week without you. I’m sorry, I wish things could’ve ended differently. I will always have you on my mind, Georgia. Love Always, Harry.”

Harry’s voicemail message, one Georgia had gotten to memorize by the number of times she’d had to listen to it, hit her hears again. Her hands curled around the note, wrinkling it and ripping the paper on one side. Her tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to steady her voice, her mind running a million miles an hour as she tried her best to keep down a sob.

“You left…y-you just left and didn’t even say goodbye to me. You didn’t even give me a good reason, Harry.” she sniffed, her eyes looking around the room that was filled with them both, “I knew what I was getting myself into when we started this. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy and there would be times where I wouldn’t see you for weeks on end. But I also knew that you were everything I wanted.”

Georgia had been warned about Harry when they first started seeing each other. She was told all the rumors about him and plenty of people had tried to scare her away from him and his world. But she knew there was more to him than just a pop star sensation, more to him than the act he put on both off-screen and on. He was kind and gentle and so caring. He was ambitious and inspirational, always wanting the best for himself and those he surrounded himself with. Harry was nothing like what the media portrayed and that had made Georgia fight for them to work.

“I know what your job is like, I knew from the beginning and I stayed, Harry. I stayed because I love you and I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted,” she whispered and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her sweater, “So please just…just call me back and we can fix this, yeah? I love you,” she sighed and hesitated for a few seconds before hanging up.

Harry, from his hotel room just a few blocks away, listened to the voicemail for hours before his eyes finally closed and he drifted off to sleep.

And then she ran into her at that damn party.

In the short span of the party, Harry had somehow managed to grab her attention and after another sip of the pink drink, they both found themselves walking off to the garden. She’d walked out first, her eyes meeting his while she passed by, almost as if giving Harry a sign to follow her. He’d taken one last sip of his drink, setting the cup down before he followed after her. She looked beautiful in the soft light of the garden, but then again, she always looked beautiful. It wasn’t until Harry’s eyes met hers, which were dull in comparison to the usual emotions they’d held before, that he realized just how much he had missed her presence.

“How have you been?” Harry asked, breaking the silence between them and instantly hating how her shoulders and jaw tensed, “I…I’m sorry about…”

“About leaving me with just a note and a shitty explanation?” Georgia asked, her eyes staring into Harry’s with a new emotion, anger.

“Georgia I…” Harry started, the lump in his throat growing as she shook her head and sighed.

“No, you had your chance to talk,” she frowned, “You has your chance to talk and call or even just text me, and did you? No! All you did was ignore me for four months and now you won’t stop staring at me at this party and it’s just…”

“I love you,” he blurted out, his eyes wide as he waited for her reaction, “I know I messed up but I love you and I haven’t stopped loving you since you spilled chocolate syrup on me during our first sleepover.”

“You can’t just show up after months and expect me to forgive you. You broke my heart, Harry! You left me and I couldn’t even stop you,” she whispered shakily, her eyes meeting his in the moonlight, “I just…I miss you so much and I should hate you. I should hate your guys but I just can’t.”

They talked more after that, both of them too tired from the stress and heartbreak of the past months to put up much of a fight. They talked until the moon was disappearing on the horizon and the music behind them both dimmed until it was just Harry and Georgia's voice floating up into the sky. They talked about everything, the insecurities they’d both had, the challenging parts of their relationship, and even the terrifying parts. They both moved closer to one another as the night went on, leaning into the warmth they both gave off until they had said everything they needed to say.

“Please just…can we try again?” Harry whispered as his hand found Georgia’s, his eyes meeting hers with a pleasing look, “I want to work this out with you, I want us to work.”

“I never wanted you to leave in the first place, Harry,” Georgia whispered, her forehead leaning against his as they both felt a pressure lift off their shoulders. Both finally feeling a little more like themselves for the first time in months.

Harry's personal life changed a lot after that party. He continued to throw himself into his work, leaving his studio from late nights recording and rushing on to the set of his latest movie project. Starring in movies had always been a dream for Harry, he got to immerse himself into a world and a life he'd never lived. It was so surreal whenever he walked on stage in his costume, it all felt like a dream. But his latest dreams in life include a certain someone by his side. They included Georgia, whose warmth and kindness brought Harry a bigger thrill than any of his projects ever could. The months apart had left both of them searching for one another in an ocean of regrets and words unspoken until that night at the party.

It was hard work, especially when he was writing and recording in whatever spare time he had on days after he was done filming, making time for his relationship with the love of his life was something he’d never take for granted again. He’d move planets for Georgia and he knew that she’d do the same for him. And maybe, just maybe, the ring that had been hiding in Harry’s bag would make an appearance in the coming months, to show his lover that he would always sing with Georgia on his mind.

taglist: @hrrypinks @matchacal

#harry styles x oc #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles blurbs #harry styles #gemma writes

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vannahfanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Stereo Hearts

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro

Hello, everyone! It is my pleasure to present my story for the @kmjr-mini-bang! A super big thanks to my partner @chiztec who drew an absolutely stunning piece to accompany my story, as well as Amii and nish, who were kind enough to beta my story. I hope you all enjoy the finished product!

Denki sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He laid on his bed, thumbs twiddling as his hands were clasped over his stomach. His worried gaze could have bored holes into the ceiling if he had the right Quirk. He felt a little silly, fretting so relentlessly over something as simple as a high school graduation. For most students, it was a time of excitement, a chapter of transition in their lives as they went bungling on into adulthood. Denki was eagerly looking forward to getting out there and showing the world what Chargebolt could do. Adulthood wasn’t exactly what he was worried about.

He hadn’t told Kyoka that he loved her yet.

“Jeez, that sounds right out of some corny chick flick,” he groaned and rubbed his palms over his eyes. He grimaced as nervous sweat smeared across his face. He flopped his arms back down against the bed with another forlorn exhale, eyes lidded as he envisioned the beautiful, talented girl he’d fallen head-over-heels for their first year. Everything had seemed to get in the way of professing his feelings for her, and also, he felt a little… unworthy. He was a great big massive dork, not nearly cool enough to even be seen with someone as pretty and sophisticated as Kyoka.

He’d probably short-circuit and go into “yay” mode when tried to confess to her.

Groaning, he rolled onto his side to grab his phone off the charger. It wasn’t like he was sleeping anyway. As he unlocked it, his thumb came to rest over the screen, and his golden eyes stared at the time burning in white numbers in the center of the display. The time was inching closer to midnight. Soon, it would officially be the day of his graduation. The realization sent a sinking feeling spiraling into the pit of his stomach.

He was running out of time. Everyone made well-intentioned promises to keep in touch after high school, but everyone knew that almost never panned out. You went on, to college or to a career, you got insanely busy, and next thing you know you haven’t talked to anyone you know in years and made new friendships. Denki swallowed thickly, mindlessly bringing up his favorite picture of Kyoka in his gallery. She was smiling brightly, so hard her eyes were scrunched up into little half-moons. She’d made that face for Denki when he’d surprised her for her birthday with an expensive album she’d been eyeing since its release. When she’d smiled at him like that, he’d almost electrocuted everyone in the room because he’d been so damn in love.

He was still so damn in love.

He pulled up Kyoka’s contact information. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. Would she even be awake right now? He wondered with a tiny sigh. Probably not. It was the middle of the night. Still, he found himself texting out a message.

Hey, are you awake?

He rolled back over and set the phone down on his chest to stare up at the ceiling again. He fully expected his message to go unanswered, so he began losing himself in the confusing stream of “what ifs” and regretting every moment he never chose to tell Kyoka how he felt. He was so lost in thought that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the message alert rang through his quiet bedroom. He fumbled with his sweaty hands to pull up Kyoka’s response.

Yeah, I’m awake. What’s up?

A sappy smile bloomed on his lips, and he rolled over, snuggling into his mattress while typing out his reply.

Just thinking. What about you?

Three dots popped up on the message screen, quickly followed by a simple, Same.

Denki ruminated on his thoughts for a moment, thumb hovering over the keyboard. He didn’t even really know what he wanted to say, or what he wanted to do. He wasn’t enough of an ass to confess to Kyoka over text, no… It had to be more special than that, something that she was deserving of.

A cheesy grin slowly appeared on his face as he recounted a conversation he’d overheard— Kyoka talking to Mina about her favorite romance movie tropes. Believe it or not, Kyoka secretly adored them and often requested them for the girls’ movie nights. He’d always stored that information in the back of his mind, just in case it would ever become useful…

Yeah… he thought deviously. He threw off his covers and scrambled over to his closet to throw on something halfway-decent. He couldn’t profess his undying love in a pair of All Might pajama pants, after all. He inspected himself in the mirror after wiggling into a pair of skinny jeans and a band tee-shirt that Kyoka had bought for his last birthday. He licked the palm of his hand to slick down the flyaways in his blond hair, turned his face left and right, and then gave his reflection finger-guns.

“You got this. You’re a stud. Ladies love ya!” He grinned encouragingly. He held the expression until his face hurt, trying to will the confidence into existence. Then, he flopped his arms and hung his head in defeat. “She’s probably gonna laugh,” he snorted. “But,” he added, peeking through his bangs at the mirror. “I still gotta try!”

Before his courage could fail him, Denki snatched up the vintage stereo sitting on his desk— another birthday present from Kyoka— and scurried out of the room, hopping on one foot down the hall trying to slip on his Converse. He slowly tip-toed past Tenya’s dorm clutching his stereo to his chest; their class representative had a nose for trouble, especially Denki’s shenanigans, and had caught the blond many a night trying to sneak away and get up to no good. It seemed that luck was on Denki’s side this evening, as he made it to the stairwell without inciting a peep for the tall bespectacled boy’s room. He breathed a sigh of relief and gathered himself for a moment before proceeding downstairs.

He treaded carefully, having long since memorized the creaky spots in the wood in his many misadventures. The tip of his tongue peeked out of his lips as he used the sparse moonlight to guide his steps down to the first floor. It was slow going, but the even best-laid plans were ruined by haste. He could feel his cell phone vibrating in his back pocket, probably Kyoka wondering why he suddenly stopped texting her.

All in due time, my dear Kyoka! <3

When Denki reached the first-floor landing, he cautiously peered out into the gloom. It wouldn’t be the first time he surprised another student who had fallen asleep in the lounge, or worse, Mr. Aizawa, who had relocated to the common room to stay up late grading assignments. Thankfully, Lady Luck was generous and granted him passage through his second trial; the lounge was empty.

Denki stole away through the darkness, like a thief in the night, to the back door. He grimaced as it creaked loudly and looked over his shoulder. After an agonizing half-minute of silence, no one emerged from the dark to scold him, so he elected that the coast was clear. He slipped outside, and the warm wind immediately enveloped him, clouding him with a cologne of night-blooming flowers and dew. He stared out into the side alley, the concrete path that led him to the space just beneath Kyoka’s balcony— and began to doubt.

I’m really going out on a limb here, he gulped and clutched the stereo to his chest until the metal creaked. His absolute worst nightmare wasn’t Kyoka rejecting him… but laughing at him. He tried to tell himself that Kyoka would never do something so callous, but he worried all the same. It was such a frightening thing, putting yourself out there. The mind tried to worm its way out of it whenever possible.

But it’s now or never! Even if she laughs at me… If I don’t do this now, I’ll regret not doing it for the rest of my life!

Denki was going to go out on this limb, even if it broke underneath him and he plummeted headlong into bitter heartbreak. He could always put himself back together again. Resolute, he tromped down the small alleyway to the rows of balconies jutting out from the dorm.

He counted under his breath until he found Kyoka’s sliding glass doors and fluttering curtains. He set the stereo down by his feet and finally pulled out his phone to discover a series of confused messages from Kyoka.

Hello? You text me first, and then don’t answer me? What’s up with that?

He smiled, sensing that playful bite in her tone that he’d fallen head-over-heels in love with.

Come out onto your balcony, he answered. Before he could stow his cellphone, it buzzed with a quick reply.

What? Why?

Just do it! He insisted in mild panic. He’d failed to consider that Kyoka would just tell him to shove off and go to bed. As nervous sweat condensed on his forehead, he heard the faint click of the door. He jerked in shock, inadvertently dropping his phone face-down on the concrete. He cringed, already imagining the crack spiderwebbing across the glass screen.

“Denki?” he heard Kyoka call suspiciously as he ducked down to hit the power button on the stereo. It automatically started up a CD of Kyoka’s favorite songs that he’d burned on the off-chance that he would need it. Just as she came to the edge of the balcony, he straightened up and swept his hand through his hair, smiling bashfully. Her eyes widened, refracting the moonlight as her ears drank in the pretty tune streaming from the stereo’s large speakers. “Denki?” she repeated perplexedly. “What are you doing?”

He nudged down the volume with his toe while a blush rose to his cheeks.

“Look, I know this is corny as hell, and you probably don’t appreciate being called out at three in the morning, but I’m kinda desperate here,” he admitted, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck and chuckling. “You know how I told you I was thinking? I was thinking about you. How your smile lights up my whole life, and when you sing it sounds like an angel walking this Earth, and how damn lucky I feel to have shared these last three years with you. How cute you are when you laugh, and gush about romance movies when you think nobody notices, and how badass you are that it leaves me breathless.”

As he rambled on and on about everything he absolutely adored about her, Kyoka’s face glowed like a pink opal in the moonlight and her wide eyes glimmered like gems. By this time, the noise had attracted the other girls from their dorm rooms, and they sleepily peered out at Denki pouring out his heart and soul to their startled classmate. His cheeks darkened with embarrassment, but he’d already said so much; there was no going back now.

“I was thinking about how stupidly in love I am with you, and how if I don’t tell you now that I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. So I love you, Kyoka, and I’d be really stoked if you’d go out with me.”

A ripple of gasps rang out from the girls’ mouths, and they all looked expectantly at Kyoka. The girl gulped audibly and pawed at her dark hair, which was sticking up in odd places and tousled with sleep. Her earjacks nervously writhed above her shoulders and her eyes cast down as she considered Denki’s confession. All the while, he stood there holding his breath, waiting and listening to the love song serenade the silence.

He was beginning to feel a bit faint and like he was going to start sparking when her eyes finally flickered up to meet his own.

“I’d be really stoked to go out with you, too.”

The girls erupted into cheers and squeals, jumping up and down while clapping their hands. Kyoka blushed under their ecstatic congratulations. Their whoops and hollers attracted the boys from across their halls, meandering out onto the girls’ balconies to investigate what all the fuss was about. Denki shrunk under all the attention, twiddling his fingers and turning as red as a tomato.

“Aw, congratulations, you two!” Izuku called with a big smile.

“It’s about damn time,” Katsuki grumped from beside Eijirou and Ochako. “I was getting sick and damn tired about him mooning over her like a lovesick sap.”

“Hey, bro! Don’t you have a nicer way to say congrats?” the redhead scolded, making Katsuki snarl.

“Denki Kaminari!” came the expected chastising. Denki flinched and grinned apologetically at Tenya, who was gestating emphatically on Tooru’s balcony with his nightcap flapping. “What is the meaning of this? I understand the romanticism, but it is the eve of our graduation ceremony! It is imperative that we be rested to do justice to our prestigious institution, not straggle in like zombies! Have you no sense of decorum?”

“Oh, can it, class rep,” Mina chided. Tenya leaned down over the balcony railing with an affronted gasp. The pink girl’s smile was wide as she winked at Denki. “So, stud. Are you gonna just stand there, or are you gonna come give your new girlfriend a kiss?”

“Mina!” Kyoka hissed, turning her head so hard and fast that Denki swore he heard her bones snap. Denki jumped, stuttering nonsensities, and dipped down to retrieve his stereo. It was still blaring as he sprinted back into the dorm and up the stairs. Kyoka was standing in her doorway as he came barreling up the steps, tripping over the laces of his Converse and nearly plowing headfirst into the wall. The rest of the students watched with bated breath, crowding in the other doorways and on the steps behind him.

“Hey, Kyoka,” Denki swallowed, holding the stereo to his chest as he timidly approached her. His breaths came in ragged gasps from his rapid staircase sprint, and a sheen of sweat stuck his hair to his forehead. He doubted that he looked the picture of handsome— but Kyoka still smiled coyly as he approached, tucking her hair behind her ears and staring at him like he was her knight in shining armor. His golden eyes never left hers as he set the stereo on the floor and rubbed his palms on the denim fabric of his jeans.

“Hey, Denki,” she smiled shyly. His heart fluttered just at the sweet sound of her voice, and he swore he fell in love all over again in that moment. His body moved instinctively as his mind was ensnared by her unconscious charm, stepping close to her and using his index finger to slowly tip up her chin. He sucked in a breath, enchanted by her shy little gaze and slightly parted lips.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Just kiss her already, you asshole, I’m tired!” Katsuki yelled from down the hall, making both of them jump. He heard Eijirou scold him under his breath and elbow him in the ribs, making Katsuki unleash a string of unflattering curses. After the fiery blond’s grumbles had died down, Denki smiled bashfully at the pink-cheeked Kyoka. She fluttered her eyelashes demurely, then flickered her gaze down to his lips.

Well, if he was waiting for an invitation, that damn sure was it.

Without further ado, Denki leaned in to gently capture her in a sweet kiss. His heart sung as she hummed slightly, making his hair stand on end. He almost wondered if he’d strayed into a dream, that his fantastical whimsies had come to fruition only in his subconscious. However, when he pulled back and opened his eyes, he knew he was awake. He could never dream the way she looked at him then, with such utter adoration that it made his heart ache.

“All right. Show’s over,” Katsuki grumbled, skulking off toward his room. Denki rolled his eyes but leaned down to finally switch off the stereo. When he straightened back up, their classmates had retreated into their rooms— leaving them alone. Kyoka shyly swung from side-to-side, hugging herself with a sheepish grin.

“That was pretty smooth,” she admitted.

“Really?” he asked excitedly. Her cheeks darkened a shade of pink, and then she nodded. Denki suppressed the wild urge to embarrass himself with a happy jig. Kyoka would probably find it charming, but he wanted to hang on to some sense of decorum, as Tenya had put it. After several minutes of staring adoringly at one another, Denki finally drawled dreamily, “Well… We should probably get back to bed… Tenya’ll be mad if we’re tired at the ceremony tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding just as enthused about ending the moment as he was. Neither of them moved for several seconds. “You should go, Denki,” she reminded him, finally prompting his sluggish body to move. He scooped up his stereo, never breaking eye contact, before rising to clutch it to his chest. “I’ll see you later,” she reassured him with a light laugh, before retreating into her room. She didn’t close the door, just gazed at him like he’d hung the moon in the sky— and he would, for her.

“Yeah,” he said as he began backing away towards the end of the hall. When she finally shut the door, he risked his happy dance, jitterbugging back to his room. Just as he flopped onto his bed, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out with furrowed brows, and then broke into a stupid smile.

I’m looking forward to our date.

His thumbs flew across the screen to type up a reply as he rolled on his side and snuggled into bed.

Me too. Goodnight, Kyoka.

She must have drifted off, because there was no reply. That was all right. After a minute of goofily admiring her contact picture, he finally put his phone on the charger and settled into bed. Sleep took him easily this time, gifting him dreams of what was to come.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#kamijiro #kamijirou #jirokami #jiroukami #kaminari x jiro #jiro x kaminari #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #kyoka jiro #jiro kyoka #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #bnha fanfiction

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soccerbites · 4 years ago

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THIS IS ME TRYING | Spencer Reid

This is based on the song “this is me trying” by Taylor Swift. Sorry for any mistakes that you could find, english is not my first language :)

warnings: angst, mention of death, alcohol, bit of fluff at the end.

words count: 2,5k

I've been having a hard time adjusting I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting I didn't know if you'd care if I came back I have a lot of regrets about that Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down And maybe I don't quite know what to say But I'm here in your doorway

Spencer’s mind was working at a speed that not even him could catch up on understanding. There was silence inside his car as he desperately drove to your house after almost three weeks without seeing or hearing from you.

He knew that if he didn’t calm down he will have an accident, so that’s why he makes a quick stop at the side of the road and gets out of the car to breathe some fresh air.

Spencer huffs, and violently runs his hands through his hair as his eyes start to being filled with tears that he does not stop from wetting the entirety of his face a few seconds later.

He is less calm than he was before, now he is not only driving thinking about anything but the road and whispering awful things to himself, but he is also driving with blurry eyes due to the tears that never stopped streaming down his face making his breathing uneven; which only got worse when he knocked on your door.

I just wanted you to know That this is me trying I just wanted you to know That this is me trying

You were sitting in the couch of your living room while watching A Star Is Born for the hundredth time while crying your eyes out, but it wasn’t exactly because of the sadness of the movie. You were crying about the fact Spencer hadn’t even bothered to call you after that night. He didn’t even texted. And after three weeks of constant realisation that you had probably lost the love of your life, the pain was not ceasing, every minute of every day it hurt more and more as you recalled the words he had screamed at you.

You hate to admit that you were trying to forget, not only the fight but him too, and his friends who adored you since the first time they saw you, but getting daily calls from Penelope checking on you and making sure you were eating, wasn’t making it easier. You wanted to ask about Spencer, maybe he was having a hard time too, but probably not, after all he was the one who caused the increasing pain in your chest.

Your plans of getting up and going to your room to cry yourself to sleep, while watching the framed picture of you both that sat on your nightable was interrupted by a loud knocking on your front door. Effortlessly screaming a “coming” while walking to the door you thought it probably was Garcia bringing you more cupcakes, but your light smiled dropped when your eyes captured the person behind the wood, and it was not Penelope, is was Spencer; his face was extremely red because of all the crying and it shined from the wetness of the tears that kept coming out of his also very red eyes. He couldn’t talk, for fuck’s sake he was barely breathing.

You instantly think back to that night.

They told me all of my cages were mental So I got wasted like all my potential And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad I have a lot of regrets about that I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here Pourin' out my heart to a stranger But I didn't pour the whiskey

You knew Spencer had a rough day because Morgan had texted you about it.

You also knew the anniversary of Maeve was soon, this time of the year was always hard for Spence. But in the three years you had been together, it had never gotten between you two or affected your relationship in any way. Until that day.

That was why you decided to make this night special, you asked rossi for his pasta recipe, at first he refused to tell you, but after a lot of pleading you got it.

You were placing the plates on the table when Spencer’s appartment door opened, showing a very stressed Reid who didn’t look at you and went straight to the bedroom. Of course you followed.

“Hey bub, I made dinner, Rossi gave me his pasta recipe” you leaned to the wall and watched him as he got into more comfortable clothes than his usual working ones.

“I’m not hungry, you should’ve called and asked” he said and got up to go to the bathroom. You were not going to let it get to you, he was upset and needed rest.

“Ok, I’ll just save it and we can eat it tomorrow”

“Do whatever you want Y/N” he rolled his eyes, he never rolled his eyes at you before.

“Spence what’s going on” you tried to approach him, but he just walked past you and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

“Nothing is going on” he looked at you for the first time of the night.

“Something must be going on, you rolled your eyes at me, you don’t want to eat, Morgan told me it was a rough day and I know this time of the year is hard for you so just, please talk to me” he huffed and you furrowed your eyebrows at his actitude.

“I have nothing to talk to you” for fuck’s sake you thought, he was raising his voice.

“Yes you do honey”.

“NO I DO NOT” at this point he was screaming.

“We both know Maeve’s death anniversary is coming up, as we both know you get sensitive I just-” he cut you off.

“DON’T YOU DARE TO BRING MAEVE INTO THIS” he was approached you while pointing at you with his finger.

“Into what Spencer you were the one who said nothing was going on” he just looked ad you “and why the fuck are you screaming”.

“BECAUSE YOU ARE GETTING INTO MY NERVES AND IT’S PISSING ME OFF”.

“OH I AM PISSING YOU OFF?” you were screaming too now.

“YES YOU ARE” he threw his hands into the air.

“WELL THEN EXCUSE ME FOR CARING ABOUT YOU AND WANTING TO SEE YOU HAPPY”

“I AM HAPPY”

“THEN TELL IT TO YOUR FACE BECAUSE IT DOESN’T SEEM LIKE IT”

“YOU ARE BEING CHILDISH” he sat down at the couch, now his back was facing you.

After a few minutes without any words from either of you both, you decided to speak.

“I’ll probably head home for the night, we can talk about this in the morning you need to sleep”, you grabbed your purse and were heading towards the door when Spencer got up and followed behind, replying to what you had said.

“You know, you’ll never be like her” you turned around and faced him.

“What did you just said?”

“It doesn’t matter how hard you try, you’ll never be like Maeve, you will never be able to make me as happy as she made me” what he was saying left you with your mouth open, you couldn’t believe it, tears were forming in your eyes as you tried to put words together in your head.

“Fuck you” you replied, tone filled with anger as you stormed into the apartment again to pick the few pieces of clothing you always had in a drawer inside his closet.

“What are you doing?” he asked when you left his bedroom.

“What does it look like I am doing?” you replied with another question, thing you knew he hates.

“So you are just going to walk away and not face your problems? I thought you were mature enough to talk about it” he whispered the last part, but loud enough for you to hear, he wanted you to hear.

“I’m the one not facing my problems? seriously Spencer?” he didn’t reply, “I woke up today to a text from Morgan saying you were having a rough one, so I got up and called my fucking boss and asked for a day off just to spend it doing stuff for you” you were already crying, “I went to the store and got your favorite snacks, drove here and spent hours making you dinner, damn it I begged Rossi to give me his recipe, I even changed your bedsheets so we could sleep on freshly washed ones because I know how much you love it” you took a deep breat, almost chocking in your words, “I asked you to talk to me, because I love you and I hate seeing you like this, we’ve been together for three years, I know you love Maeve and I can’t imagine what you’re going through, and I will never ask you to forget about her because I understand it but you can’t keep putting yourself through this, It’s killing you Spencer”, you close your mouth for a moment, thinking about what you’re going to say next, “I love you so much that I am willing to spend the rest of my life doing it even when i know you will always love her the most” you waited a few seconds to see if he was going to say something, but when he didn’t you continued, “and today you’ve made very clear that you are not close to loving me half the amount I love you, and I will not settle for that” and just like that you turned around, opened the door and closed it behind your back, leaving Spencer speechless.

That night Spencer did something he barely ever did, and that was going to a bar alone. He ended up pouring out his heart to a stranger, he told him about you, the way he loves every single detail of you, and when he got back after a few hours, he realised he had messed up the best thing in his life, he had lost you.

I just wanted you to know That this is me trying I just wanted you to know That this is me trying

At least I'm trying

“Spencer?” he was not answering “are you ok?” still not answer, “my god come in” he came inside your house as you told him to.

“We need- I need-” he was trying to talk but at the same time it seemed as if he was losing his mind.

“What you need right now is to sit down, try to relax and drink the cup of water I’ll bring you right now” you went to your kitchen and filled a big glass with water and gave it to him.

You sat down next to him, leaving a bit of distance between you two.

“What happened? what are you doing here?” you asked as you looked into his glossy eyes.

“I needed to see you, I- I want you to know that I tried- I am trying to get over it but I can’t, I can’t because everything reminds me of you and I’m so so so sorry for what I said that night, you have no idea of how much I regret every single bit of it, you don’t deserve that, ever” he paused to breathe, “and I love you so much, it hurts to know that you think I don’t but I do, I spent three years of my life with you and I’d spend a thousand more if it were biologically possible, you are the best thing on my life and these three weeks it has felt as if I was slowly dying”.

You hugged him very tight, ran your hand through his hair and kissed his temple, letting a few tears slide down your cheeks.

And it's hard to be at a party When I feel like an open wound It's hard to be anywhere these days When all I want is you You're a flashback in a film reel On the one screen in my town

Spencer started talking again while you still had him into your arms.

“I even went out with the team, and if I usually do not enjoy it I wanted to escape from there the minute your name was mentioned and I had to tell them what had happened” you break the hug to look at him, but your hands never leave the back of his head, “Penelope, she was furious at me, she loves you too much” you smiled.

“I know, she’s been coming by almost every day to check on me”

“And yesterday I went to get coffee, and I saw you sitting there, you were reading?”

“Yeah, I was reading”

“I didn’t have the courage to go in, so instead, I went back to my appartment and cried the entire day while looking at the pictures you glued to the kitchen wall” he laughed a bit, “and I hated myself for it, but then Morgan came by and he talked to me for hours, and now here I am”.

And I just wanted you to know That this is me trying (maybe I don't quite know what to say) I just wanted you to know That this is me tryingAt least I'm trying

“Spence, you know I love you with my entire heart, body and soul” he nodded, “I was mad at the begginig, I was really mad” you laughed, “but as the days went by and I thought about it a lot, I realised it didn’t matter anymore and the only thing I wanted was for you to call”.

“Yes it matters Y/N, I told you you will never be able to make me happy and I screamed and threw away the food you made, I was an asshole”

“Yes, you were an asshole, but you were going through a very hard time and you had a shitty day, and I forgive you” he smiled, “I know you’re trying and I’m here to help you, I am so proud of you Spencer” you grabbed his face with both hands and could notice he was looking at your lips.

So after three weeks, you finaly kissed the love of your life again, and at least seven hundred of the thousand emotional cuts you had from that night healed.

Spencer and you spent the entire weeking cuddling and eating Penelope’s cupcakes, who was in fact, also very happy.

You couldn’t ask for more.

You didn’t want more.

He was trying to heal and you were a part of the process.

#spencer reid #mgg spencer reid #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer read fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fanfiction

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grigori77 · 4 years ago

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2020 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 3)

10. WOLFWALKERS – eleven years ago, Irish director Tomm Moore exploded onto the animated cinema scene with The Secret of Kells, a spellbinding feature debut which captivated audiences the world over and even garnered an Oscar nomination. Admittedly I didn’t actually even know about it until I discovered his work through his astonishing follow-up, Song of the Sea (another Academy Award nominee), in 2015, so when I finally caught it I was already a fan of Moore’s work. It’s been a similarly long wait for his third feature, but he’s genuinely pulled off a hat-trick, delivering a third flawless film in a row which OF COURSE means that his latest feature is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, my top animated feature of 2020. I could even be tempted to say it’s his best work to date … this is an ASTONISHING film, a work of such breath-taking, spell-binding beauty that I spent its entire hour and three-quarters glued to the screen, simple mesmerised by the wonder and majesty of this latest iteration of the characteristically stylised “Cartoon Saloon” look. It’s also liberally steeped in Moore’s trademark Celtic vibe and atmosphere, once again delving deep into his homeland’s rich and evocative cultural history and mythology while also bringing us something far more original and personal – this time the titular supernatural beings are magical near-human beings whose own subconscious can assume the form of very real wolves. Set in a particularly dark time in Irish history – namely 1650, when Oliver Cromwell was Lord Protector – the story follows Robyn (Honor Kneafsey, probably best known for the Christmas Prince films), the impetuous and spirited young daughter of English hunter Bill Goodfellowe (Sean Bean), brought in by the Protectorate to rid the city of Kilkenny of the wolves plaguing the area. One day fate intervenes and Robyn meets Mebh Og MacTire (The Girl at the End of the Garden‘s Eve Whittaker), a wild girl living in the woods, whose accidental bite gives her strange dreams in which she becomes a wolf – turns out Mebh is a wolfwalker, and now so is Robyn … every aspect of this film is an utter triumph for Moore and co, who have crafted a work of living, breathing cinematic art that’s easily the equal to (if not even better than) the best that Disney, Dreamworks or any of the other animation studios could create. Then there’s the excellent voice cast – Bean brings fatherly warmth and compassion to the role that belies his character’s intimidating size, while Kneafsey and Whittaker make for a sweet and sassy pair as they bond in spite of powerful cultural differences, and the masterful Simon McBurney (Harry Potter, Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy) brings cool, understated menace to the role of Cromwell himself. This is a film with plenty of emotional heft to go with its marvels, and once again displays the welcome dark side which added particular spice to Moore’s previous films, but ultimately this is still a gentle and heartfelt work of wonder that makes for equally suitable viewing for children as for those who are still kids at heart – ultimately, then, this is another triumph for one of the most singularly original filmmakers working in animation today, and if Wolfwalkers doesn’t make it third time lucky come Oscars-time then there’s no justice in the world …

9. WONDER WOMAN 1984 – probably the biggest change for 2020 compared to pretty much all of the past decade is how different the fortunes of superhero cinema turned out to be. A year earlier the Marvel Cinematic Universe had dominated all, but the DC Extended Universe still got a good hit in with big surprise hit Shazam! Fast-forward to now and things are VERY different – DC suddenly came out in the lead, but only because Marvel’s intended heavy-hitters (two MCU movies, the first Venom sequel and potential hot-shit new franchise starter Morbius: the Living Vampire) found themselves continuously pushed back thanks to (back then) unforeseen circumstances which continue to shit all over our theatre-going slate for the immediate future. In the end DC’s only SERIOUS competition turned out to be NETFLIX … never mind, at least we got ONE big established superhero blockbuster into the cinemas before the end of the year that the whole family could enjoy, and who better to headline it than DC’s “newest” big screen megastar, Diana Prince? Back in 2017 Monster’s Ball director Patty Jenkins’ monumental DCEU standalone spectacularly realigned the trajectory of a cinematic franchise that was visibly flagging, redesigning the template for the series’ future which has since led to some (mostly) consistently impressive subsequent offerings. Needless to say it was a damn tough act to follow, but Jenkins and co-writers Geoff Johns (Arrow and The Flash) and David Callaham (The Expendables, Zombieland: Double Tap, future MCU entry Shang-Chi & the Legend of the Ten Rings) have risen to the challenge in fine style, delivering something which pretty much equals that spectacular franchise debut … as has Gal Gadot, who’s now OFFICIALLY made the role her own thanks to yet another showstopping and definitive performance as the unstoppable Amazonian goddess living amongst us. She’s older and wiser than in the first film, but still hasn’t lost that forthright honesty and wonderfully pure heart we’ve come to love ever since her introduction in Zack Snyder’s troublesome but ultimately underrated Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice (yes, that’s right, I said it!), and Gadot’s clear, overwhelming commitment to the role continues to pay off magnificently as she once again proves that Diana is THE VERY BEST superhero in the DCEU cinematic pantheon. Although it takes place several decades after its predecessor, WW84 is, obviously, still very much a period piece, Jenkins and co this time perfectly capturing the sheer opulent and over-the-top tastelessness of the 1980s in all its big-haired, bad-suited, oversized shoulder-padded glory while telling a story that encapsulates the greedy excessiveness of the Reagan era, perfectly embodied in the film’s nominal villain, Max Lord (The Mandalorian himself, Pedro Pascal), a wishy-washy wannabe oil tycoon conman who chances upon a supercharged wish-rock and unleashes a devastating supernatural “monkey’s paw” upon the world. To say any more would give away a whole raft of spectacular twists and turns that deserve to be enjoyed good and cold, although they did spoil one major surprise in the trailer when they teased the return of Diana’s first love, Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) … needless to say this is another big blockbuster bursting with big characters, big action and BIG IDEAS, just what we’ve come to expect after Wonder Woman’s first triumphant big screen adventure. Interestingly, the film starts out feeling like it’s going to be a bubbly, light, frothy affair – after a particularly stunning all-action opening flashback to Diana’s childhood on Themyscira, the film proper kicks off with a bright and breezy atmosphere that feels a bit like the kind of Saturday morning cartoon action the consistently impressive set-pieces take such unfettered joy in parodying, but as the stakes are raised the tone grows darker and more emotionally potent, the storm clouds gathering for a spectacularly epic climax that, for once, doesn’t feel too overblown or weighed down by its visual effects, while the intelligent script has unfathomable hidden depths to it, making us think far more than these kinds of blockbusters usually do. It’s really great to see Chris Pine return since he was one of the best things about the first movie, and his lovably childlike wide-eyed wonder at this brave new world perfectly echoes Diana’s own last time round; Kristen Wiig, meanwhile, is pretty phenomenal throughout as Dr Barbara Minerva, the initially geeky and timid nerd who discovers an impressive inner strength but ultimately turns into a superpowered apex predator as she becomes one of Wonder Woman’s most infamous foes, the Cheetah; Pascal, of course, is clearly having the time of his life hamming it up to the hilt as Lord, playing gloriously against his effortlessly cool, charismatic action hero image to deliver a compellingly troubling examination of the monstrous corrupting influence of absolute power. Once again, though, the film truly belongs to Gadot – she looks amazing, acts her socks off magnificently, and totally rules the movie. After this, a second sequel is a no-brainer, because Wonder Woman remains the one DC superhero who’s truly capable of bearing the weight of this particular cinematic franchise on her powerful shoulders – needless to say, it’s already been greenlit, and with both Jenkins and Gadot onboard, I’m happy to sign up for more too …

8. LOVE & MONSTERS – with the cinemas continuing their frustrating habit of opening for a little while and then closing while the pandemic ebbed and flowed in the months after the summer season, it was starting to look like there might not have been ANY big budget blockbusters to enjoy before year’s end as heavyweights like Black Widow, No Time To Die and Dune pulled back to potentially more certain release slots into 2021 (with only WW84 remaining stubbornly in place for Christmas). Then Paramount decided to throw us a bone, opting to release this post-apocalyptic horror comedy on-demand in October instead, thus giving me the perfect little present to tie me over during the darkening days of autumn. The end result was a stone-cold gem that came out of nowhere to completely blow critics away, a spectacular sleeper hit that ultimately proved one of the year’s biggest and most brilliant surprises. Director Michael Matthews may only have had South African indie thriller Five Fingers for Marseilles under his belt prior to this, but he proves he’s definitely a solid talent to watch in the future, crafting a fun and effective thrill-ride that, like all the best horror comedies, is consistently as funny as it is scary, sharing much of the same DNA as this particular mash-up genre’s classics like Tremors and Zombieland and standing up impressively well to such comparisons. The story, penned by rising star Brian Duffield (who has TWO other entries on this list, Underwater and Spontaneous) and Matthew Robinson (The Invention of Lying, Dora & the Lost City of Gold), is also pretty ingenious and surprisingly original – a meteorite strike has unleashed weird mutagenic pathogens that warp various creepy crawly critters into gigantic monstrosities that have slaughter most of the world’s human population, leaving only a beleaguered, dwindling few to eke out a precarious living in underground colonies. Living in one such makeshift community is Joel Dawson (The Maze Runner’s Dylan O’Brien), a smart and likeable geek who really isn’t very adventurous, is extremely awkward and uncoordinated, and has a problem with freezing if threatened … which makes it all the more inexplicable when he decides, entirely against the advice of everyone he knows, to venture onto the surface so he can make the incredibly dangerous week-long trek to the neighbouring colony where his girlfriend Aimee (Iron Fist’s Jessica Henwick) has ended up. Joel is, without a doubt, the best role that O’Brien has EVER had, a total dork who’s completely unsuited to this kind of adventure and, in the real world, sure to be eaten alive in the first five minutes, but he’s also such a fantastically believable, fallible everyman that every one of us desperate, pathetic omega-males and females can instantly put ourselves in his place, making it elementarily easy to root for him. He’s also hilariously funny, his winningly self-deprecating sass and pitch perfect talent for physical comedy making it all the more rewarding watching each gloriously anarchic life-and-death encounter mould him into the year’s most unlikely action hero. Henwick, meanwhile, once again impresses in a well-written role where she’s able to make a big impression despite her decidedly short screen time, as do the legendary Michael Rooker and brilliant newcomer Ariana Greenblatt as Clyde and Minnow, the adorably jaded, seen-it-all-before pair of “professional survivors” Joel meets en-route, who teach him to survive on the surface. The action is fast, frenetic and potently visceral, the impressively realistic digital creature effects bringing a motley crew of bloodthirsty beasties to suitably blood-curdling life for the film’s consistently terrifying set-pieces, while the world-building is intricately thought-out and skilfully executed. Altogether, this was an absolute joy from start to finish, and a film I enthusiastically endorsed to everyone I knew was looking for something fun to enjoy during the frustrating lockdown nights-in. One of the cinematic year’s best kept secrets then, and a compelling sign of things to come for its up-and-coming director.

7. PARASITE – I’ve been a fan of master Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-ho ever since I stumbled across his deeply weird but also thoroughly brilliant breakthrough feature The Host, and it’s a love that’s deepened since thanks to truly magnificent sci-fi actioner Snowpiercer, so I was looking forward to his latest feature as much as any movie geek, but even I wasn’t prepared for just what a runaway juggernaut of a hit this one turned out to be, from the insane box office to all that award-season glory (especially that undeniable clean-sweep at the Oscars). I’ll just come out and say it, this film deserves it all. It’s EASILY Bong’s best film to date (which is really saying something), a masterful social satire and jet black comedy that raises some genuinely intriguing questions before delivering deeply troubling answers. Straddling the ever-widening gulf between a disaffected idle rich upper class and impoverished, struggling lower class in modern-day Seoul, it tells the story of the Kim family – father Ki-taek (Bong’s good luck charm, Song Kang-ho), mother Chung-sook (Jang Hye-jin), son Ki-woo (Train to Busan’s Choi Woo-shik) and daughter Ki-jung (The Silenced’s Park So-dam) – a poor family living in a run-down basement apartment who live hand-to-mouth in minimum wage jobs and can barely rub two pennies together, until they’re presented with an intriguing opportunity. Through happy chance, Ki-woon is hired as an English tutor for Park Da-hye (Jung Ji-so), the daughter of a wealthy family, which offers him the chance to recommend Ki-jung as an art tutor to the Parks’ troubled young son, Da-song (Jung Hyeon-jun). Soon the rest of the Kims are getting in on the act, the kids contriving opportunities for their father to replace Mr Park’s chauffeur and their mother to oust the family’s long-serving housekeeper, Gook Moon-gwang (Lee Jung-eun), and before long their situation has improved dramatically. But as they two families become more deeply entwined, cracks begin to show in their supposed blissful harmony as the natural prejudices of their respective classes start to take hold, and as events spiral out of control a terrible confrontation looms on the horizon. This is social commentary at its most scathing, Bong drawing on personal experiences from his youth to inform the razor-sharp script (co-written by his production assistant Han Jin-won), while he weaves a palpable atmosphere of knife-edged tension throughout to add spice to the perfectly observed dark humour of the situation, all the while throwing intriguing twists and turns at us before suddenly dropping such a massive jaw-dropper of a gear-change that the film completely turns on its head to stunning effect. The cast are all thoroughly astounding, Song once again dominating the film with a turn at once sloppy and dishevelled but also poignant and heartfelt, while there are particularly noteworthy turns from Lee Sun-kyun as the Parks’ self-absorbed patriarch Dong-ik and Choi Yeo-jeong (The Concubine) as his flighty, easily-led wife Choi Yeon-gyo, as well as a fantastically weird appearance in the latter half from Park Myung-hoon. This is heady stuff, dangerously seductive even as it becomes increasingly uncomfortable viewing, so that even as the screws tighten and everything goes to hell it’s simply impossible to look away. Bong Joon-ho really has surpassed himself this time, delivering an existential mind-scrambler that lingers long after the credits have rolled and might even have you questioning your place in society once you’ve thought about it some. It deserves every single award and every ounce of praise it’s been lavished with, and looks set to go down as one of the true cinematic greats of this new decade. Trust me, if this was a purely critical best-of list it’d be RIGHT AT THE TOP …

6. THE OLD GUARD – Netflix’ undisputable TOP OFFERING of the summer came damn close to bagging the whole season, and I can’t help thinking that even if some of the stiffer competition had still been present it may well have still finished this high. Gina Prince-Blythewood (Love & Basketball, the Secret Life of Bees) directs comics legend Greg Rucka’s adaptation of his own popular series with uncanny skill and laser-focused visual flair considering there’s nothing on her previous CV to suggest she’d be THIS good at mounting a stomping great ultraviolent action thriller, ushering in a thoroughly engrossing tale of four ancient, invulnerable immortal warriors – Andy AKA Andromache of Scythia (Charlize Theron), Booker AKA Sebastian de Livre (Matthias Schoenaerts), Joe AKA Yusuf Al-Kaysani (Wolf’s Marwan Kenzari) and Nicky AKA Niccolo di Ginova (Trust’s Luca Marinelli) – who’ve been around forever, hiring out their services as mercenaries for righteous causes while jealously guarding their identities for fear of horrific experimentation and exploitation should their true natures ever be discovered. Their anonymity is threatened, however, when they’re uncovered by former CIA operative James Copley (Chiwetel Ejiofor), who’s working for the decidedly dodgy pharmaceutical conglomerate run by sociopathic billionaire Steven Merrick (Harry Melling, formerly Dudley in the Harry Potter movies), who want to capture these immortals so they can patent whatever it is that makes them keep on ticking … just as a fifth immortal, US Marine Nile Freeman (If Beale Street Could Talk’s KiKi Layne), awakens after being “killed” on deployment in Afghanistan. The supporting players are excellent, particularly Ejiofor, smart and driven but ultimately principled and deeply conflicted about what he’s doing, even if he does have the best of intentions, and Melling, the kind of loathsome, reptilian scumbag you just love to hate, but the film REALLY DOES belong to the Old Guard themselves – Schoenaerts is a master brooder, spot-on casting as the group’s relative newcomer, only immortal since the Napoleonic Wars but clearly one seriously old soul who’s already VERY tired of the lifestyle, while Joe and Nicky (who met on opposing sides of the Crusades) are simply ADORABLE, an unapologetically matter-of-fact gay couple who are sweet, sassy and incredibly kind, the absolute emotional heart of the film; it’s the ladies, however, that are most memorable here. Layne is exceptional, investing Nile with a steely intensity that puts her in good stead as her new existence threatens to overwhelm her and MORE THAN qualified to bust heads alongside her elders … but it’s ancient Greek warrior Andy who steals the film, Theron building on the astounding work she did in Atomic Blonde to prove, once and for all, that there’s no woman on Earth who looks better kicking arse than her (as Booker puts it, “that woman has forgotten more ways to kill than entire armies will ever learn”); in her hands, Andy truly is a goddess of death, tough as tungsten alloy and unflappable even in the face of hell itself, but underneath it all she hides a heart as big as any of her friends’. They’re an impossibly lovable bunch and you feel you could follow them on another TEN adventures like this one, which is just as well, because Prince-Blythewood and Rucka certainly put them through their paces here – the drama is high (but frequently laced with a gentle, knowing sense of humour, particularly whenever Joe and Nicky are onscreen), as are the stakes, and the frequent action sequences are top-notch, executed with rare skill and bone-crunching zest, but also ALWAYS in service to the story. Altogether this is an astounding film, a genuine victory for its makers and, it seems, for Netflix themselves – it’s become one of the platform’s biggest hits to date, earning well-deserved critical acclaim and great respect and genuine geek love from the fanbase at large. After this, a sequel is not only inevitable, it’s ESSENTIAL …

5. MANK – it’s always nice when David Fincher, one of my TOP FIVE ALL TIME FAVOURITE DIRECTORS, drops a new movie, because it can be GUARANTEED to place good and high in my rundown for that year. The man is a frickin’ GENIUS, a true master of the craft, genuinely one of the auteur’s auteurs. I’ve NEVER seen him deliver a bad film – even a misfiring Fincher (see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button or Alien 3) is still capable of creating GREAT CINEMA. How? Why? It’s because he genuinely LOVES the art form, it’s been his obsession all his life, and he’s spent every day of it becoming the best possible filmmaker he can be. Who better to tell the story of the creation of one of the ULTIMATE cinematic masterpieces, then? Benjamin Ross’ acclaimed biopic RKO 281 covered similar ground, presenting a compelling look into the making Citizen Kane, the timeless masterpiece of Hollywood’s ULTIMATE auteur, Orson Welles, but Fincher’s film is more interested in the original inspiration for the story, how it was written and, most importantly, the man who wrote it – Herman J. Mankiewicz, known to his friends as Mank. One of my favourite actors of all time, Gary Oldman, delivers yet another of his career best performances in the lead role, once a man of vision and incredible storytelling skill whose talents have largely been squandered through professional difficulties and personal vices, a burned out one-time great fallen on hard times whom Welles picks up out of the trash, dusts off and offers a chance to create something truly great again. The only catch? The subject of their film (albeit dressed up in the guise of fictional newspaper magnate Charles Foster Kane) is to be real-life publisher, politico and tycoon William Randolph Hurst (Charles Dance), once Mank’s friend and patron before they had a very public and messy falling out which partly led to his current circumstances. As he toils away in seclusion on what is destined to become his true masterwork, flashbacks reveal to us the fascinating, moving and ultimately tragic tale of his rise and fall from grace in the movie business, set against the backdrop of one of the most tumultuous periods in American history. Shooting a script that his own journalist and screenwriter father, Jack, crafted and then failed to bring to the screen himself before his death in 2003, Fincher has been working for almost a quarter century to make this film, and all that passion and drive is writ large on the screen – this is a glorious film ABOUT film, the art of it, the creation of it, and all the dirty little secrets of what the industry itself has always really been like, especially in that most glamorous and illusory of times. The fact that Fincher shot in black and white and intentionally made it look like it was made in the early 1940s (the “golden age of the Silver Screen”, if you will) may seem like a gimmick, but instead it’s a very shrewd choice that expertly captures the gloss and moodiness of the age, almost looking like a contemporary companion piece to Kane itself, and it’s the perfect way to frame all the sharp-witted observation, subtly subversive character development and murky behind-the-scenes machinations that tell the story. Oldman is in every way the star here, holding the screen with all the consummate skill and flair we’ve come to expect from him, but there’s no denying the uniformly excellent supporting cast are equal to the task here – Dance is at his regal, charismatic best as Hearst, while Amanda Seyfried is icily classy on the surface but mischievous and lovably grounded underneath as Hearst’s mistress, Marion Davies, who formed the basis for Kane’s most controversial character, Arliss Howard (Full Metal Jacket, The Lost World: Jurassic Park, Moneyball) brings nuance and complexity to the role of MGM founder Louis B. Mayer, Tom Pelphrey (Banshee, Ozark) is understated but compelling as Mank’s younger screenwriter brother Joseph, and Lily Collins and Tuppence Middleton exude class and long-suffering stubbornness as the two main women in Mank’s life (his secretary and platonic muse, Rita Alexander, and his wife, Sara), while The Musketeers’ Tom Burke’s periodic but potent appearances as Orson Welles help to drive the story in the “present”. Another Netflix release which I was (thankfully) able to catch on the big screen during one of the brief lulls between British lockdowns, this was a decidedly meta cinematic experience that perfectly encapsulated not only what is truly required for the creation of a screen epic, but also the latest pinnacle in the career of one of the greatest filmmakers working in the business today, powerful, stirring, intriguing and surprising in equal measure. Certainly it’s one of the most important films ABOUT so far film this century, but is it as good as Citizen Kane? Boy, that’s a tough one …

4. ENOLA HOLMES – ultimately, my top film for the autumn/winter movie season was also the film which finally topped my Netflix Original features list, as well as beating all other streaming offerings for the entire year (which is saying something, as you should know by now). Had things been different, this would have been one of Warner Bros’ BIGGEST releases for the year in the cinema, of that I have no doubt, a surprise sleeper hit which would have taken the world by storm – as it is it’s STILL become a sensation, albeit in a much more mid-pandemic, lockdown home-viewing kind of way. Before you start crying oh God no, not another Sherlock Holmes adaptation, this is a very different beast from either the Guy Ritchie take or the modernized BBC show, instead side-lining the great literary sleuth in favour of a delicious new AU version, based on The Case of the Missing Marquess, the first novel in the Enola Holmes Mysteries literary series from American YA author Nancy Springer. Positing that Sherlock Holmes (Henry Cavill) and his elder brother Mycroft (Sam Claflin) had an equally ingenious and precocious baby sister, the film introduces us to Enola (Stranger Things’ Millie Bobby Brown), who’s been raised at home by their strong-willed mother Eudoria (Helena Bonham Carter) to be just as intelligent, well-read and intellectually skilled as her far more advantageously masculine elder siblings. Then, on the morning of her sixteenth birthday, Enola awakens to find her mother has vanished, putting her in a pretty pickle since this leaves her a ward of Mycroft, a self-absorbed social peacock who finds her to be wilfully free-spirited and completely ill equipped to face the world, concluding that the only solution is sending her to boarding school where she’ll learn to become a proper lady. Needless to say she’s horrified by the prospect, deciding to run away and search for her mother instead … this is about as perfect a family adventure film as you could wish for, following a vital, capable and compelling teen detective-in-the-making as she embarks on her very first investigation, as well as winding up tangled in a second to boot involving a young runaway noble, Viscount Tewkesbury, the Marquess of Basilwether (Medici’s Louis Partridge), and the film is a breezy, swift-paced and rewardingly entertaining romp that feels like a welcome breath of fresh air for a literary property which, beloved as it may be, has been adapted to death over the years. Enola Holmes a brilliant young hero who’s perfectly crafted to carry the franchise forward in fresh new directions, and Brown brings her to life with effervescent charm, boisterous energy and mischievous irreverence that are entirely irresistible; Cavill and Claflin, meanwhile, are perfectly cast as the two very different brothers – this Sherlock is much less louche and world-weary than most previous versions, still razor sharp and intellectually restless but with a comfortable ease and a youthful spring in his step that perfectly suits the actor, while Mycroft is as superior and arrogant as ever, a preening arse we derive huge enjoyment watching Enola consistently get the best of; Bonham Carter doesn’t get a lot of screen-time but as we’d expect she does a lot with what she has to make the practical, eccentric and unapologetically modern Eudoria thoroughly memorable, while Partridge is carefree and likeable as the naïve but irresistible Tewkesbury, and there are strong supporting turns from Frances de la Tour as his stately grandmother, the Dowager, Susie Wokoma (Crazyhead, Truth Seekers) as Emily, a feisty suffragette who runs a jujitsu studio, Burn Gorman as dastardly thug-for-hire Linthorn, and Four Lions’ Adeel Akhtar as a particularly scuzzy Inspector Lestrade. Seasoned TV director Harry Bradbeer (Fleabag, Killing Eve) makes his feature debut with an impressive splash, unfolding the action at a brisk pace while keeping the narrative firmly focused on an intricate mystery plot that throws in plenty of ingenious twists and turns before a suitably atmospheric climax and pleasing denouement which nonetheless artfully sets up more to come in the future, while screenwriter Jack Thorne (His Dark Materials, The Scouting Book for Boys, Wonder) delivers strong character work and liberally peppers the dialogue with a veritable cavalcade of witty zingers. Boisterous, compelling, amusing, affecting and exciting in equal measure, this is a spirited and appealing slice of cinematic escapism that flatters its viewers and never talks down to them, a perfect little period adventure for a cosy Sunday afternoon. Obviously there’s plenty of potential for more, and with further books to adapt there’s more than enough material for a pile of sequels – Neflix would be barmy indeed to turn their nose up at this opportunity …

3. 1917 – it’s a rare thing for a film to leave me truly shell-shocked by its sheer awesomeness, for me to walk out of a cinema in a genuine daze, unable to talk or even really think about much of anything for a few hours because I’m simply marvelling at what I’ve just witnessed. Needless to say, when I do find a film like that (Fight Club, Inception, Mad Max: Fury Road) it usually earns a place very close to my heart indeed. The latest tour-de-force from Sam Mendes is one of those films – an epic World War I thriller that plays out ENTIRELY in one shot, which doesn’t simply feel like a glorified gimmick or stunt but instead is a genuine MASTERPIECE of film, a mesmerising journey of emotion and imagination in a shockingly real environment that’s impossible to tear your eyes away from. Sure, Mendes has impressed us before – his first film, American Beauty, is a GREAT movie, one of the most impressive feature debuts of the 2000s, while Skyfall is, in my opinion, quite simply THE BEST BOND FILM EVER MADE – but this is in a whole other league. It’s an astounding achievement, made all the more impressive when you realise that there’s very little trickery at play here, no clever digital magic (just some augmentation here and there), it’s all real locations and sets, filmed in long, elaborately choreographed takes blended together with clever edits to make it as seamless as possible – it’s not the first film to try to do this (remember Birdman? Bushwick?), but I’ve never seen it done better, or with greater skill. But it’s not just a clever cinematic exercise, there’s a genuine story here, told with guts and urgency, and populated by real flesh and blood characters – the heart of the film is True History of the Kelly Gang’s George MacKay and Dean Chapman (probably best known as Tommen Baratheon in Game of Thrones) as Lance Corporals Will Schofield and Tom Blake, the two young tommies sent out across enemy territory on a desperate mission to stop a British regiment from rushing headlong into a German trap (Tom himself has a personal stake in this because his brother is an officer in the attack). They’re a likeable pair, very human and relatable throughout, brave and true but never so overtly heroic that they stretch credibility, so when tragedy strikes along the way it’s particularly devastating; both deliver exceptional performances that effortlessly carry us through the film, and they’re given sterling support from a selection of top-drawer British talent, from Sherlock stars Andrew Scott and Benedict Cumberbatch to Mark Strong and Colin Firth, each delivering magnificently in small but potent cameos. That said, the cinematography and art department are the BIGGEST stars here, masterful veteran DOP Roger Deakins (The Shawshank Redemption, Blade Runner 2049 and pretty much the Coen Brothers’ entire back catalogue among MANY others) making every frame sing with beauty, horror, tension or tragedy as the need arises, and the environments are SO REAL it feels less like production design than that someone simply sent the cast and crew back in time to film in the real Northern France circa 1917 – from a nightmarish trek across No Man’s Land to a desperate chase through a ruined French village lit only by dancing flare-light in the darkness before dawn, every scene is utterly immersive and simply STUNNING. I don’t think it’s possible for Mendes to make a film better than this, but I sure hope he gives it a go all the same. Either way, this was the most incredible, exhausting, truly AWESOME experience I had at the cinema all year – it’s a film that DESERVES to be seen on the big screen, and I feel truly sorry for those who missed the chance …

2. BIRDS OF PREY & THE FANTABULOUS EMANCIPATION OF ONE HARLEY QUINN – the only reason 1917 isn’t at number two is because Warner Bros.’ cinematic DC Extended Universe project FINALLY got round to bringing my favourite DC Comics title to the big screen. It was been the biggest pleasure of my cinematic year getting to see my top DC superheroines brought to life on the big screen, and it was done in high style, in my opinion THE BEST of the DCEU films to date (yup, I loved it EVEN MORE than the Wonder Woman movies). It was also great seeing Harley Quinn return after her show-stealing turn in David Ayer’s clunky but ultimately still hugely enjoyable Suicide Squad, better still that they got her SPOT ON this time – this is the Harley I’ve always loved in the comics, unpredictable, irreverent and entirely without regard for what anyone else thinks of her, as well as one talented psychiatrist. Margot Robbie once more excels in the role she was basically BORN to play, clearly relishing the chance to finally do Harley TRUE justice, and she’s a total riot from start to finish, infectiously lovable no matter what crazy, sometimes downright REPRIHENSIBLE antics she gets up to. Needless to say she’s the nominal star here, her latest ill-advised adventure driving the story – finally done with the Joker and itching to make her emancipation official, Harley publicly announces their breakup by blowing up Ace Chemicals (their love spot, basically), inadvertently painting a target on her back in the process since she’s no longer under the assumed protection of Gotham’s feared Clown Prince of Crime – but that doesn’t mean she eclipses the other main players the movie’s REALLY supposed to be about. Each member of the Birds of Prey is beautifully written and brought to vivid, arse-kicking life by what had to be 2020’s most exciting cast – Helena Bertinelli, the Huntress, is the perfect character for Mary Elizabeth Winstead to finally pay off on that action hero potential she showed in Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, but this is a MUCH more enjoyable role outside of the fight choreography because while Helena may be a world-class dark avenger, socially she’s a total dork, which just makes her thoroughly adorable; Rosie Perez is similarly perfect casting as Renee Montoya, the uncompromising pint-sized Gotham PD detective who kicks against the corrupt system no matter what kind of trouble it gets her into, and just gets angrier all the time, paradoxically making us like her even more; and then there’s the film’s major controversy, at least as far as the fans are concerned, namely one Cassandra Cain. Sure, this take is VERY different from the comics’ version (a nearly mute master assassin who went on to become the second woman to wear the mask of Batgirl before assuming her own crime-fighting mantle as Black Bat and now Orphan), but personally I like to think this is simply Cass at THE VERY START of her origin story, leaving plenty of time for her to discover her warrior origins when the DCEU finally gets around to introducing her mum, Lady Shiva (personally I want Michelle Yeoh to play her, but that’s just me) – anyways, here she’s a skilled child pickpocket whose latest theft inadvertently sets off the larger central plot, and newcomer Ella Jay Basco brings a fantastic pre-teen irreverence and spiky charm to the role, beautifully playing against Robbie’s mercurial energy. My favourite here BY FAR, however, is Dinah Lance, aka the Black Canary (not only my favourite Bird of Prey but my very favourite DC superheroine PERIOD), the choice of up-and-comer Jurnee Smollet-Bell (Friday Night Lights, Underground) proving to be the film’s most inspired casting – a club singer with the metahuman ability to emit piercing supersonic screams, she’s also a ferocious martial artist (in the comics she’s one of the very best fighters IN THE WORLD), as well as a wonderfully pure soul you just can’t help loving, and it made me SO UNBELIEVABLY HAPPY that they got my Canary EXACTLY RIGHT. Altogether they’re a fantastic bunch of badass ladies, basically my perfect superhero team, and the way they’re all brought together (along with Harley, of course) is beautifully thought out and perfectly executed … they’ve also got one hell of a threat to overcome, namely Gotham crime boss Roman Sionis, the Black Mask, one of the Joker’s chief rivals – Ewan McGregor brings his A-game in a frustratingly rare villainous turn (my number one bad guy for the movie year), a monstrously narcissistic, woman-hating control freak with a penchant for peeling off the faces of those who displease him, sharing some exquisitely creepy chemistry with Chris Messina (The Mindy Project) as Sionis’ nihilistic lieutenant Victor Zsasz. This is about as good as superhero cinema gets, a perfect example of the sheer brilliance you get when you switch up the formula to create something new, an ultra-violent, unapologetically R-rated middle finger to the classic tropes, a fantastic black comedy thrill ride that’s got to be the most full-on feminist blockbuster ever made – it’s helmed by a woman (Dead Pigs director Cathy Yan), written by a woman (Bumblebee’s Christina Hodson), produced by more women and ABOUT a bunch of badass women magnificently triumphing over toxic masculinity in all its forms. It’s also simply BRILLIANT – the cast are all clearly having a blast, the action sequences are first rate (the spectacular GCPD evidence room fight in which Harley gets to REALLY cut loose is the undisputable highlight), it has a gleefully anarchic sense of humour and is simply BURSTING with phenomenal homages, references and in-jokes for the fans (Bruce the hyena! Stuffed beaver! Roller derby!). It’s also got a killer soundtrack, populated almost exclusively by numbers from female artists. Altogether, then, this is the VERY BEST the DCEU has to offer to date, and VERY NEARLY my absolute FAVOURITE film of 2020. Give it all the love you can, it sure as hell deserves it.

1. TENET – granted, the streaming platforms (particularly Netflix and Amazon) certainly saved our cinematic summer, but I’m still IMMEASURABLY glad that my ultimate top-spot winner FOR THE WHOLE YEAR was one I got to experience on THE BIG SCREEN. You gotta hand it to Christopher Nolan, he sure hung in there, stubbornly determined that his latest cinematic masterpiece WOULD be released in cinemas in the summer (albeit ultimately landing JUST inside the line in the final week of August and ultimately taking the bite at the box office because of the still shaky atmosphere), and it was worth all the fuss because, for me, this was THE PERFECT MOVIE for me to get return to cinemas with. I mean, okay, in the end it WASN’T the FIRST new movie I saw after the first reopening, that honour went to Unhinged, but THIS was my first real Saturday night-out big screen EXPERIENCE since March. Needless to say, Nolan didn’t disappoint this time any more than he has on any of his consistently spectacular previous releases, delivering another twisted, mind-boggling headfuck of a full-blooded experiential sensory overload that comes perilously close to toppling his long-standing auteur-peak, Inception (itself second only by fractions to The Dark Knight as far as I’m concerned). To say much at all about the plot would give away major spoilers – personally I’d recommend just going in as cold as possible, indeed you really should just stop reading this right now and just GO SEE IT. Still with us? Okay … the VERY abridged version is that it’s about a secret war being waged between the present and the future by people capable of “inverting” time in substances, objects, people, whatever, into which the Protagonist (BlacKkKlansman’s John David Washington), an unnamed CIA agent, has been dispatched in order to prevent a potential coming apocalypse. Washington is once again on top form, crafting a robust and compelling morally complex heroic lead who’s just as comfortable negotiating the minefields of black market intrigue as he is breaking into places or dispatching heavies, Kenneth Branagh delivers one of his most interesting and memorable performances in years as brutal Russian oligarch Andrei Sator, a genuinely nasty piece of work who was ALMOST the year’s very best screen villain, Elizabeth Debicki (The Night Manager, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Widows) brings strength, poise and wounded integrity to the role of Sator’s estranged wife, Kat, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson gets to use his own accent for once as tough-as-nails British Intelligence officer Ives, while there are brief but consistently notable supporting turns and cameos from Martin Donovan, Yesterday’s Himesh Patel, Dirk Gently’s Fiona Dourif and, of course, Nolan’s good luck charm, Michael Caine. The cast’s biggest surprise, however, is Robert Pattinson, truly a revelation in what has to be, HANDS DOWN, his best role to date, Neil, the Protagonist’s mysterious handler – he’s by turns cheeky, slick, duplicitous and thoroughly badass, delivering an enjoyably multi-layered, chameleonic performance which proves what I’ve long maintained, that the former Twilight star is actually a fucking amazing actor, and on the basis of this, even if that amazing new teaser trailer wasn’t making the rounds, I think the debate about whether or not he’s the right choice for the new Batman is now academic. As we’ve come to expect from Nolan, this is a TRUE tour-de-force experience, a visual triumph and an endlessly engrossing head-scratcher, Nolan’s screenplay bringing in seriously big ideas and throwing us some major narrative knots and loopholes, constantly wrong-footing the viewer while also setting up truly revelatory payoffs from seemingly low-key, unimportant beginnings – this is a film you need to be awake and attentive for or you could miss something pretty vital. The action sequences are, as ever, second to none, some of the year’s very best set-pieces coming thick and fast and executed with some of the most accomplished skill in the business, while Nolan-regular cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar and Dunkirk, as well as the heady likes of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, SPECTRE and Ad Astra) once again shows he’s one of the best camera-wizards in the business today by delivering some absolutely mesmerising visuals. Notably, Nolan’s other regular collaborator, composer Hans Zimmer, is absent here (although he had good reason, since he was working on his dream project at the time, the fast-approaching screen adaptation of Dune), but Ludwig Göransson (best known for his collaborations with Ryan Coogler Fruitvale Station, Creed and Black Panther, as well as career-best work on The Mandalorian) is a fine replacement, crafting an intriguingly internalised, post-modern musical landscape that thrums and pulses in time with the story and emotions of the characters rather than the action itself. Interestingly it’s on the subject of sound that some of the film’s rare detractions have been levelled, and I can see some of the points – the soundtrack mix is an all-encompassing thing, and there are times when the dialogue can be overwhelmed, but in Nolan’s defence this film is a heady, immersive experience, something you really need to concentrate on, so these potential flaws are easily forgiven. As a work of filmmaking art, this is another flawless wonder from one of the true masters of the craft working in cinema today, but it’s art with palpable substance, a rewarding whole that proved truly unbeatable in 2020 …

#wolfwalkers #wonder woman 1984 #ww84 #love and monsters #parasite #parasite movie #the old guard #mank #enola holmes #1917 #1917 movie #Birds of Prey #birds of prey the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn #tenet #tenet movie #2020 in movies

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fireheartwraith · 4 years ago

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So, I decided to watch Fate: The Winx Saga after some deliberation (I saw the trailer and it looked cool). As I never watched the original Winx Club, I'm coming into this pretty much blind to the lore, so if you want to know what someone that doesn't have the "it's different from what I wanted" baggage thinks of the show, let's go!

Episode 1 and Episode 2

• Ooh, this is giving me flashbacks to my first day of university... Luckily Pedro is a good soul and saw me just standing there and asked me if I was a freshman (yes), if I was lost (very much so) and if I wanted help (please)

• I can tell the the show wants me to ship these two because meet cute but... I didn't think it was cute. He was kind of rude in the beginning and it wasn't *sparkles* it was small talk. My talk with Pedro was pretty much the same, except he was nicer. Being a decent person doesn't mean romantic attraction, Show, if you want me to ship this you will have to try harder

• Oh, he's the ex

• Something tells me Stella wasn't this bitchy on the original show. I am not here for the female rivalry, specially if it's because of a basic white dude

• I have never related to someone as much as I relate to Terra since I too tend to talk too much, too fast, and overshare to make up for my insecurities and anxiety. My mom is the plant gal though...

• I want a succulent!

• Bloom, who the heck talks on the phone with the speaker turned on in a room full of people you don't know???? Show wants me to believe you're an introvert when you pull this shit???

• I love Aisha

• I also love Musa

• Is a burned one kind of like a werewolf? Where if it scratches you, you turn into one? If that's the case, is there a way to get them conscious again? Like the wolfbane potion in Harry Potter

• I'm gonna pretend everyone is over 18 bacause I can't handle another Riverdale

• ........ everything changed when the fire nation attacked

• I'm sorry but you can't talk to me about the elements and expect me to not think about atla

• Being an empath in high school must suck. All that teenage angst....

• Changeling! Makes sense. My bet is that her father is the leader of the burned ones and the principal is her mom

• I get that she's missing home and normality but her mom was a bitch

• I'm glad they revealed this now and not at the end of the season, when literally everyone would know

• Stella quit being a bitch

• I expected the princess of Solaria to be a fire fairy, not an air one....

• Riven and Beatrix deserve each other

• Protect my gay baby!!

• MAGIC LESSONS

• Bloom needs to meditate and Stella needs to chill

• What kind of human parents name their child Bloom??? Aisha sounds like a human name, not fucking Bloom. I bet it's a white people thing, like Ashleigh

• Stop being mean to Aisha and Terra! They're just trying to help!

• Musa really found the one bitch in this place that doesn't have anxiety and went 👀 huh

• No! Don't use anger! Are you the only kid that never watched A:TLA?? Have you learned nothing from Zuko???

• No! Don't follow the whispery voice in the woods! That's how people get killed in horror movies!

• Oop, that's a lot of bodies

• Something tells me that burning a burned one isn't going to help

• Aisha to the rescue!

• Gross

• SO THERE IS A POTION

• Silva is a really common surname here in Brazil.... We're fairies confirmed

• Oh, they are going to pretend that Sam being Terra's brother is drama worthy huh

• Stella quit being a bitch /rt

• Yes! BOND

• huh

• That's different

Episode 3

• Have I already said that Aisha is the best??

• I still don't get what the specialists are. One the first episode Sky told Bloom "you are a fairy" as if he isn't one, and the only thing I've seen specialists do so far is fight with sticks. What are they doing in magic school?

• So, Silva can't get better until the burned one that infected him is dead? I'm pretty sure there's something like this in vampire or werewolf lore

• Is Silva Sky's dad or something?

• MAGIC LESSONS

• Don't go to the dark side Bloom! Beatrix bad!

• How many headmasters does this school have??

• Oh yeah, this dude is evil too. I forgot he existed

• Uh, do all hetero coupled do cringey shit like that?

• My mom starts talking to me about something she was thinking about as if I have the context ALL THE TIME!! We're all Terra #PowerToTheNerds

• But I'm more of a coffee addict than a tea aficionado

• Oh thank god they are using km

• RIP Silva

• Aaawww suite to the party!

• Okay but grown ups gossiping while being 100% of what the youngsters are trying to hide is my favorite trope ever

• All these pop songs are going to age the show

• Terra that was so awkward omg

• What the fuck Stella???

• How old do fairies get? Like, do they live for centuries?

• Is it bad that I discovered what shotgunning is through a smutty wolfstar fanfic? 😬

• Rosalind? Former headmistress Rosalind?

• Oop, another dead body

• Oop, Silva..... F 😔

• Bloom can't you listen to Aisha for once??? You are going to get yourself killed

• That's a sweater, not armor

• Because that's not creepy at all

• You could at least have phoned a responsible adult before running off into the forest looking for a toasted slender man

• Your suite mates don't qualify as responsible adults but it's better than nothing I guess

• Oh look, a portal to another dimension!

• Look! A responsible adult!!

• Oh, he's still alive

• Oh wait, nevermind

• Did she just Thanos him?

• Hugs!

• I still don't get what the specialists are

• My best friend in high school was adopted so I'm having flashbacks... Her birth parents got in contact after almost two decades of radio silence. It was a very difficult time for her, with lots of different and sometimes opposite emotions about the whole thing. In the end she accepted that whatever happened, happened and that the mom that raised was her real mom, no matter her faults. I hope that Bloom can get to the same conclusion

• Alright, I wasn't expecting Rosalind to be in magic cryogenic coma

• Why can't they meet? Is Rosalind evil or something?

Episode 4

• At least now Bloom is aware that her friends have their own lives and aren't they just to be her sidekicks

• Girls sticking together!

• Still don't get why Musa needs to hide her relationship with Sam.... If I was Terra I would be more upset that my friend was hiding the relationship from me than the relationship itself

• Last episode was Sky's daddy issues, so this one is Stella's mommy issues. And, of course, the whole show is about Bloom's issues (general)

• The Queen of Solaria is named Luna?? Huh

• This episode is also about snooping

• I'm going to find whoever thought hdr was good idea and force them to watch something on Netflix when the screen is so dark you can barely see what's happening

• I'm going to pretend that's a p!atd reference

• I'm going to pretend I didn't hear 2004

• Can the camera stop spinning, I'm getting dizzy

• Anakin noooo

• Rehabilitation magic?

• So Queen Kindness is not so nice after all

• I want to give Sky points for figuring it out but let's be honest here, it was not that hard

• When did they name themselves "Winx"? And what does that even mean?

• ANAKIN NO

• Good for you sky

• Yes! Tell the responsible adults!

• Push her

• So your parents were from Aster Dell

• Well they both are redheads

• Oh sweet Anakin...

• SEE???

• Silva that's shady as fuck

That's all for now! I will watch the rest, but don't know if I should make another post or just edit this one...

#fate: the winx saga #ftws #ftws spoilers #ftws reaction #fate the winx saga spoilers #bloom #bloom x sky #terra #musa #stella #aisha #am i forgetting someone #sky #riven #beatrix #dane

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popculty · 4 years ago

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52 Films by Women: 2020 Edition

Another annual challenge complete!

Last year, I focused on diversifying my list. This year I kept that intention but focused on watching more non-American films and films from the 20th century. Specifically, I sought out Agnès Varda’s entire filmography, after her death in 2019. (I was not disappointed - What a filmmaking legend we lost.)

I also kept a film log for the first time and have included some of my thoughts on several films from that log. I made a point of including reviews both positive and negative, because I think it’s important to acknowledge the variability and breadth of the canon, so as not to put every film directed by a woman on a pedestal. (Although movies directed by women must clear a much higher bar to be greenlit, meaning generally higher quality...But that’s an essay for another day :)

* = directed by a woman of color

bold = fave

1. The Rhythm Section (2020) dir. Reed Morano - Not as good as it could have been, given Morano’s proven skill behind the camera, but also not nearly as bad as the critics made it out to be. And unbelievably refreshing to see a female revenge story not driven by sexual assault or the loss of a husband/child.

2. Cléo de 5 à 7 (1962) dir. Agnès Varda - If you ever wanted to take a real-time tour of Paris circa 1960, this is the film for you.

3. Little Women (2019) dir. Greta Gerwig - Still my favorite Little Women adaptation. I will re-watch it every year and cry.

4. Varda by Agnès (2019) dir. Agnès Varda & Didier Rouget

5. Booksmart (2019) dir. Olivia Wilde - An instant classic high school comedy romp that subverts all the gross tropes of its 1980s predecessors.

6. Girls of the Sun (2018) dir. Eva Husson

7. Blue My Mind (2017) dir. Lisa Brühlmann

8. Portrait of a Lady On Fire (2019) dir. Céline Sciamma - Believe the hype. This film is a master thesis on the female gaze, and also just really effing gorgeous.

9. Belle Epine (2010) dir. Rebecca Zlotowski

10. Vamps (2012) dir. Amy Heckerling - With Krysten Ritter and Alicia Silverstone as modern-day vampires, I was so ready for this movie. But it feels like a bad stage play or a sit-com that’s missing a laugh-track. Bummer.

11. *Birds of Prey (2020) dir. Cathy Yan - Where has this movie been all our lives?? Skip the next onslaught of Snyder-verse grim-darkery and give me two more of these STAT!

12. She’s Missing (2019) dir. Alexandra McGuinness

13. The Mustang (2019) dir. Laure de Clermont-Tonnere - Trigger warning for the “protagonist” repeatedly punching a horse in the chest. I noped right out of there.

14. Monster (2003) dir. Patty Jenkins – I first watched this movie when I was probably too young and haven’t revisited it since. The rape scene traumatized me as a kid, but as an adult I appreciate how that trauma is not the center of the movie, or even of Aileen’s life. Everyone still talks about how Charlize “went ugly” for this role, but the biggest transformation here isn’t aesthetic, it’s physical – the way Theron replicates Wuernos’ mannerisms, way of speaking, and physicality. That’s why she won the Oscar. I also love that Jenkins calls the film “Monster” (which everyone labels Aileen), but then actually uses it to tell the story of how she fell in love with a woman when she was at her lowest, and that saved her. That’s kind of beautiful, and I’m glad I re-watched it so that I could see the story in that light, instead of the general memory I had of it being a good, feel-bad movie. It’s so much more than that.

15. Water Lilies (2007) dir. Céline Sciamma – Sciamma’s screenwriting and directorial debut, the first in her trilogy on youth, is as painfully beautiful as its sequels (Tomboy and Girlhood). It’s also one of the rare films that explores the overlap of queerness and girl friendships.

16. The Trouble with Angels (1966) dir. Ida Lupino – Movies about shenanigan-based female friendships are such rare delights. Rosalind Russel is divine as Mother Superior, and Hayley Mills as “scathingly brilliant” as the pranks she plays on her. Ida Lupino’s skill as an editor only enhances her directing, providing some truly iconic visual gags to complement dialogue snappy enough for Gilmore Girls.

17. Vagabond (1985) dir. Agnès Varda – Shot with a haunting realism, this film has no qualms about its heroine’s inevitable, unceremonious death, which it opens with, matter-of-factly, before retracing her final (literal) steps to the road-side ditch she ends up in. (I’m partly convinced said heroine was the inspiration for Sarah Manning in Orphan Black.)

18. One Sings, The Other Doesn’t (1977) dir. Agnès Varda – Probably my favorite classic Varda, this film feels incredibly personal. It’s essentially a love story about two best friends with very different lives. For an indie made in the ‘70s, the diversity, scope, and themes of the film are impressive. Even if the second half a drags a bit, the first half is absolute perfection, engaging the viewer immediately, and clipping along, sprinkling in some great original songs that were way progressive for their time (about abortion, female bodily autonomy, etc) and could still be considered “bangers” today.

19. Emma (2020) dir. Autumn de Wilde

20. Black Panthers (1969) dir. Agnès Varda

21. Into the Forest (2016) dir. Patricia Rozema - When the world was ending (i.e. the pandemic hit) this was the first movie I turned to - a quiet, meditative story of two sisters (Elliot Page and Evan Rachel Wood) surviving off the land after a sudden global blackout. Four years later, it’s still one of my favorite book-to-screen adaptations. I fondly remember speaking with director Patricia Rozema at the 2016 Chicago Critics Film Festival after a screening, her love for the source material and desire to “get it right” so apparent. I assured her then, and reaffirm now, that she really did.

22. City of Trees (2019) dir. Alexandra Swarens

23. Never Rarely Sometimes Always (2020) dir. Eliza Hittmann - To call this a harrowing and deeply personal journey of a sixteen-year-old who must cross state lines to get an abortion would be accurate, but incomplete. It is a story so much bigger than that, about the myriad ways women’s bodies and boundaries are constantly violated.

24. Paradise Hills (2019) dir. Alice Waddington

25. *Eve’s Bayou (1996) dir. Kasi Lemmons – I’ve been meaning to watch Kasi Lemmons’ directorial debut for many years now, and I’m so glad I finally have, because it fully deserves its icon status, beyond being one of the first major films directed by a black woman. Baby Jurnee Smollett's talent was immediately recognizable, and she has reminded us of it in Birds of Prey and Lovecraft Country this year. If merit was genuinely a factor for Oscar contenders, she would have taken home gold at eleven years old. Beasts of the Southern Wild has been one of my all-time favorites, but now I realize that most of my appreciation for that movie actually goes to Lemmons for blazing the trail with her story of a young black girl from the bayou first. It’s also a surprisingly dark story about memory and abuse and familial relationships that cross lines - really gutsy and surprising themes, especially for the ‘90s.

26. Blow the Man Down (2019) dir. Bridget Savage Cole & Danielle Krudy - Come and get your sea shanty fix!

27. Touchy Feely (2013) dir. Lynn Shelton - R.I.P. :(

28. Hannah Gadsby: Douglas (2020) dir. Madeleine Parry - If you thought Gadsby couldn’t follow up 2018′s sensational Nanette with a comedy special just as sharp and hilarious, you would have been sorely mistaken.

29. Girlhood (2013) dir. Céline Sciamma

30. Breathe (2014) dir. Mélanie Laurent

31. *A Dry White Season (1989) dir. Euzhan Palcy

32. Laggies (2014) dir. Lynn Shelton

33. *The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood – Everything I’ve ever wanted in an action movie: Immortal gays, Charlize Theron wielding a labrys (battle axe), kinetic fight choreography I haven’t seen since the last Bond movie…Watched it twice, then devoured the comics it was adapted from, and I gotta say: in the hands of black women, it eclipses the source material. Cannot wait for the just-announced sequel.

34. Morvern Callar (2002) dir. Lynn Ramsay

35. Shirley (2020) dir. Josephine Decker

36. *Radioactive (2019) dir. Marjane Satrapi – The story is obviously well worth telling and the narrative structure – weaving in the future consequences of Curie’s discoveries – is clever, but a bit awkwardly executed and overly manipulative. There are glimpses of real brilliance throughout, but it feels as if the director’s vision was not fully realized, to my great disappointment. Nonetheless, I appreciated seeing Marie Curie's story being told by a female director and embodied by the always wonderful Rosamund Pike.

37. *The Half of It (2020) dir. Alice Wu - I feel like a real scrooge for saying this, but this movie did nothing for me. Nothing about it felt fresh, authentic or relatable. A real disappointment from the filmmaker behind the wlw classic Saving Face.

38. Mouthpiece (2018) dir. Patricia Rozema - I am absolutely floored. One of those films that makes you fall in love with the art form all over again. Patricia Rozema continues to prove herself one of the most creatively ambitious and insightful directors of our time, with this melancholic meditation on maternal grief and a woman’s duality.

39. Summerland (2020) dir. Jessica Swale - The rare period wlw love story that is not a) all-white or b) tragedy porn. Just lovely.

40. *The Last Thing He Wanted (2020) dir. Dee Rees – As rumored, a mess. Even by the end, I still couldn’t tell you who any of the characters are. Dee, we know you’re so much better than this! (see: Mudbound, Pariah)

41. *Cuties (2020) dir. Maïmouna Doucouré – I watched this film to 1) support a black woman director who has been getting death threats for her work and 2) see what all the fuss is about. While I do think there were possibly some directorial choices that could have saved quite a bit of the pearl-clutching, overall, I didn’t find it overly-exploitative or gross, as many (who obviously haven’t actually watched the film) have labeled it. It certainly does give me pause, though, and makes me wonder whether children can ever be put in front of a camera without it exploiting or causing harm to them in some way. It also makes one consider the blurry line between being a critique versus being an example. File this one under complicated, for sure.

42. A Call to Spy (2019) Lydia Dean Pilcher – An incredible true story of female spies during WWII that perfectly satisfied my itch for British period drama/spy thriller and taught me so much herstory I didn’t know.

43. Kajillionaire (2020) dir. Miranda July - I was lucky enough to attend the (virtual) premiere of this film, followed by an insightful cast/director Q&A, which only made me appreciate it more. July's offbeat dark comedy about a family of con artists is queerer and more heartfelt than it has any right to be, and a needed reprieve in a year of almost entirely white wlw stories. The family's shenanigans are the hook, but it's the budding relationship between Old Dolio (an almost unrecognizable Evan Rachel Wood) and aspiring grifter Melanie (the luminous Gina Rodriguez) that is the heart of the story.

44. Misbehaviour (2020) dir. Philippa Lowthorpe – Again, teaching me herstory I didn’t know, about how the Women’s Liberation Movement stormed the 1970 Miss World Pageant. Keira Knightley and Gugu Mbatha-Raw’s characters have a conversation in a bathroom at the end of the film that perfectly eviscerates well-meaning yet ignorant white feminism, without ever pitting women against each other - a feat I didn’t think was possible. I also didn’t think it was possible to critique the male gaze without showing it (*ahem Cuties, Bombshell, etc*), but this again, invents a way to do it. Bless women directors.

45. *All In: The Fight for Democracy (2020) dir. Liz Garbus and Lisa Cortes – 2020’s 13th. Thank god for Stacey Abrams, that is all.

46. *The 40-Year-Old Version (2020) dir. Radha Blank – This scene right here? I felt that in my soul. This whole film is so good and funny and heartfelt and relatable to any artist trying to walk that tightrope of “making it” while not selling their soul to make it. My only initial semi-note was that it’s a little long, but after hearing Radha Blank talk about how she fought for the two-hour run-time as a way of reclaiming space for older black women, I take it back. She’s right: Let black women take up space. Let her movie be as long as she wants it to be. GOOD FOR HER.

47. Happiest Season (2020) dir. Clea Duvall - Hoooo boy. What was marketed as the first lesbian Christmas rom-com is actually a horror movie for anyone who’s ever had to come out. Throw in casual racism and a toxic relationship treated as otp, and it’s YIKES on so many levels. Aubrey Plaza, Dan Levy, and an autistic-coded Jane are the only (underused) highlights.

48. *Monkey Beach (2020) dir. Loretta Todd

49. *Little Chief (2020) dir. Erica Tremblay – A short film part of the 2020 Red Nation Film Festival, it’s a perfect eleven minutes that I wish had gone on longer, if only to bask in Lily Gladstone in a leading role.

50. First Cow (2019) dir. Kelly Reichardt – I know Kelly Reichardt’s style, so I’ll admit-- even as I was preparing for an excellent film, I was also reaching for my phone, planning on only half paying attention during all the inevitable 30-second shots of grass blowing in the wind. (And yes, there are plenty of those.) But twenty minutes in, my phone was set aside and forgotten, as I am getting sucked into this beautiful story about two frontiersman trying to live their best domestic life.There is only one word to describe this film and that is: PURE. I’ve never seen such a tender platonic relationship between men on screen before, and it’s not lost on me that it took a woman to show us that tenderness. Reichardt gives us two men brought together by fate, and kept together by a shared dream and the simple pleasure of not being alone in such a hard world; two men who spend their days cooking, trapping, baking, and dreaming of a better life; two men who don’t say much, but feel everything for each other. The world would be a much better place if men showed us this kind of vulnerability and friendship toward each other. Oh, and it’s also a brutal take-down of capitalism and the myth of the American Dream!

51. Wonder Woman 1984 (2020) dir. Patty Jenkins - My most-anticipated film for the past two years was...well, a mixed bag, to say the least. Too many thoughts on it for a blog post, so stay tuned for the upcoming podcast ep where we go all in ;)

52. *Selah and the Spades (2019) dir. Tayarisha Poe

I hope this gives you some ideas to kick off your new year with a resolution to support more female directors!

What were your favorite women-directed movies of last year? Let me know in the tags, comments, or asks!

#finally finished this #52 films by women #2020 #writing #movies #movie reviews #orig

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gummygoatgalaxy · 4 years ago

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Redesign for Ophelia!

Info about her below

~Info~

Age: 12

Gender: female

Species: welsh harlequin duck

Alliance: chaotic good

Talents: singing and drawing

Magic: ice magic, connected souls with Moonbeam

Likes: singing, drawing, eating, nature, her friends and fam, sleeping, video games, animals, reading, watching cartoons, cold weather, horror movies/games/stories, musicals

Dislikes: city life, crowds, loud and/or annoying/entitled people, hot weather, spicy things, loved ones hurt or upset, romcoms

Favorite color: all colors but mostly green

Favorite movie: The 1987 Chipmunk Adventure

Favorite show: Avatar the last Airbender

Favorite book: Warriors cat series

Favorite game: Legend of Zelda Breath of the Wild

Favorite song: Man on the Moon by Zella Day

Favorite musical: Hamilton and Heathers

Disability: autism, depression, anxiety

Sexuality: panromantic demisexual and polyamorous

Partners: Moxxie Dreaming and Loki Amor

Best Friends: Moonbeam, Oliver Midnight, Laila Midnight, Moxxie Dreaming, Loki Amor, Satoria Flare, Erynn Cinnabon, May Tundra, Huey Duck, Louie Duck, Webby Vanderquack

Voice claim: Anna Kendrick as Poppy in Trolls

Description:

Ophelia Midnight is an orphan girl who was invited to live in the mansion under the care of Mrs. Beakley, after they learned she had no home, parents, and was nomading around to find safety. Now she lives in a huge mansion with her two boyfriends, new family and her soul bonded magic wolf guardian Moonbeam.

Appearance:

She is short, her size is 3'7" which is almost half as tall as Webby. She has heterochromia in her eyes, meaning one eye is light green and the other pale blue/green. Mid back length white hair and gray/black markings and a black beak and legs. She wears two gems on each side of her head, a gray/purple furry coat and pink/purple scarf, occasionally with dark gray boots, and under or without it is a wine red/purple dress with a lighter sash around the waist and a light purple choker necklace.

Personality:

sweet and bubbly, fiery temper, easily triggered, easily upset, loving, goofy, and protective, wild child

Relationships:

Moonbeam

Her and Moonbeam are closer than close, they have bonded souls after all! They’re connection happened when Ophelia was 4 and tried to save a dying wolf pup. She failed, but for her effort the wolf’s soul connected with hers and he survives as a physical spirit companion. She sees him as her brother and they are VERY protective of each other.

Oliver Midnight

WIP

Laila Midnight

WIP

Octavia Midnight

Octavia is Ophelia’s mother. Her and Ophelia were never very close but they loved each other all the same. Octavia passed due to a long term illness when Ophelia was 6 that had slowly grown on her, she left everything to Ophelia, but it wasn’t much.

Moxxie Dreaming

WIP

Loki Amor

WIP

Satoria Flare

WIP

Erynn Cinnabon

WIP

May Tundra

WIP

Louie Duck

She met him in the woods, after he had gotten separated from his brothers and had gotten lost. She found him and with her knowledge of Mount Neverest, which she had just arrived at to live in a cave but figured the layout out quickly, helped him back to his family. Soon the two would always be hanging out and snacking together, he showed her all kinds of technological things, like video games, movies, and tv.

Huey Duck

She met him after she found his brother and helped his brother return to his family. Soon the two of them would always be out in nature together and they would share they’re collective knowledge of nature with each other.

Webby Vanderquack

After being put under guardianship by Mrs. Beakley, her and Webby became like sisters! The two are inseparable! They share a since of need for adventure and excitement. Both are used to having been isolated from the world and understand each other pretty well.

Dewey Duck

Ophelia and Dewey are pretty close. They both love music and like to harmonize together. They like to tell each other jokes and goof around but not much else.

Lena Sabrewing

Her and Lena are super close. They both have magic and bad pasts, so they feel a sense of connection. Plus both have a bit of a dark side.

Violet Sabrewing

Her and Violet are really close. They like to discuss magic and nature and enjoy just reading and sitting in each other’s presence. When they need a quiet relaxing time, they tend to hang out.

Boyd Gearloose

Her and Boyd are buddies. She believes this precious bean must be protected.

Gosalyn Waddlemeyer

Her and Gosalyn are kinda close, they both have a sense of adventure.

Bentina Beakley

Ophelia sees Mrs. Beakley as her grandma! She calls her Grammy and loves to here about her past.

Donald Duck

Ophelia sees Donald as a father figure, she has never met her father and doesn’t even know his name. She loves Donald’s protective and caring nature and can understand him pretty well!

Della Duck

She sees Della as a cool aunt. She dislikes what she’s done in the past but believes people deserve second chances.

Gladstone Gander

He irritates her.

Fethry Duck

She loves to see all the cool creatures and listen to his ocean facts.

Scrooge Mcduck

She thinks of Scrooge as her great uncle! She admires Scrooge for all he’s done and thinks he’s really cool!

Matilda Mcduck

She thinks Matilda’s a little strange but loves her ideas.

Downy Mcduck

She thinks she’s the sweetest great great grandma ever!

Fergus Mcduck

He kinda scares her. But she knows he cares.

Goldie O’Gilt

She thinks she’s the coolest great auntie (sorta) ever!

Daisy Duck

She thinks of her as the sweet and beautiful auntie that is also kickass.

#my art #ducktales 2017 #ducktales #oc #my oc #ducktales oc #ducktales ducksona #ducksona #Ophelia Midnight #me

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sole-cuore-amore-e-droga · 4 years ago

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Belgium brings their ex-vocalist back to Rotterdam 2021

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Here we chop chop boys like we chop chop wood

This review space would’ve been reserved for Belarus. Unfortunately, their broadcaster was not ready to make nice, and ultimately refused to serve EBU with anything but not-even-so-thinly-veiled propaganda, so much so that EBU, after all they’ve given the time for them for to snap out of it, finally had to be like “bye bitch” (- Lizzo) with enough push from the fandom, and informed everyone that Belarus will miss this year’s contest <3

Which means that I don’t have to deal with 41, but with 39 writeups to do overall, if my timing permits! The Roop could’ve always used a little less competition, anyway /j

Speaking of The Roop’s competition, time to aim at another one of their semifinal folk with a review. Come forth, Belgium!

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

Hooverphonic, eventhough they’re not as big of a name as Flo Rida, is the biggest act to compete in this year’s Eurovision, and even had lasted longer as a thing than Flo Rida. He barely even got his proper famous kickstart around in the 2000s. Hoover have been around at least for 5 years more than him, if “Years active” section on Wikipedia is anything to go by. And back then they were just known as Hoover, correct. Their lineup of singers has changed for quite some time, but otherwise the band since its inception is rooted in basically two men: Alex Callier and Raymond Geerts. They used to have a keyboardist too but was he a part of their glory years in 2000? No? Thought so, he’s irrelevant then. In fact, their first vocalist wasn’t even present on their first album, so they went to have another one, who did just one album with them before 2000 and left. Now I’m only constantly and consistently bringing up 2000 because that’s when they had their break out moment in relevancy - after they changed their singer once more before they found someone called Geike Arnaert - the woman you’re seeing on the MV’s thumbnail right now, and not someone certain for whom there was a public outcry for she is the only Hooverphonic component that’s not coming back from 2020 to 2021. But more on that later. I’m here to present you the break-out hit, for those who just don’t know:

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I used to like to think of Hoovers as trip-hop sensations, well not in the style of Massive Attack because they have their trip-hop sound with actual hip hop thrown in, Hooverphonic’s style is that but with a tinge of symphonic.

Well, “Mad About You” wasn’t really the only hit they had, before that they got a bunch of minor and domestic hits, and their music was used for soundtracks. So it’s a little bit cheating still to think of “Mad About You” as their breakout hit, but that’s still the biggest song of the band. If I were to recommend you stuff from them that aren’t necessarily the biggest hits but still, “The Night Before” with yet another one of their vocalists is pretty good.

So when I tell you that Hooverphonic is a band of a very long career. Well some bands do survive a lot without having their lineup change for 10+ years, but Hooverphonic vocalistes come and go sometimes, and for 2020 forray, when they were first announced, they came in to that talk show studio where they were guests in with a promising little starlet Alex Callier found at The Voice Belgium (for the Flanders region) and was her mentor there, Luka Cruysberghs, as their current vocalist.

Is it just me or her and Stefania Liberakakis look like they could be cousins?

All went smooth and dandy, until Alex started spouting stuff about Eurovision the fans found not amusing, such as calling Eurovision a circus or something, later begging and pleading to medias that his statement was “lost in translation” - now I would say it happens to the best of us, like for Tornike, but deep inside I think I know Alex meant what he meant, inside or outside context. Because everything just went even more sour when everyone found out Hooverphonic were missing from the common song “Love Shine a Light” for the 2020 consolation programme in place of Eurovision, and when they were forced to explain, Alex just straight up said he didn’t like the song, so he decided to not do it. Fuck, I myself don’t adore the 1997 winning song, but I like it, and would’ve still done a piece of that song out of respect. Take it or leave it, god damn. Also they were noted to be the only people plugging in their other material in the time when Eurovision 2020 artists on the consolation programme were either saying inspirational stuff or “hope to see you soon!” or a combo of both, once again, courtesy of mostly Alex. Now I’m not saying his ego is bigger than Kirkorov’s... of fucking course not, no one has an ego bigger than Kirkorov’s. The only thing that can beat him in that regard is if someone booked Kanye West for Eurovision last minute.

Following 2021, they were very excited to jump on the “leave 2020 songs behind” train, while a few artists like VICTORIA and The Roop rallied for to keep their entries in tact if they were allowed to. And with that, in late 2020, they went ahead and celebrated the 20 years of “Mad About You” by getting rid of Luka as a vocalist and bringing back the aforementioned Geike to reprise her part. Seems pretty reasonable, but for the Eurofandom it was simply seen as a dick move, and mostly for the reason that all 2020 artists deserve a 2021 chance, even if they’re band members. What felt more dickish is that Luka was straight up told “byeeee u’re no longer our bandmate xo” on a Zoom call between band members. Like, it’s fine to be told you’re fired in person, even if still humiliating, because what’s the other better way? What’s equally worse is to be told this via email, but the email you were sent was sent like a few months ago and you only read it NOW. At least I guess that proves we know what the “sad and losing game” was that Luka asked to be released from now, heh.

Not to worry Luka-stans, as Alex will still have her, just as not the part of the band anymore. But instead give her a solo career. Yeah well we’ll see how long that lasts.

With the 2000 glory heydays lineup of Hooverphonic we have their entry be “The Wrong Place”, as the completely quite different song they promised (or didn’t) when saying that they will certainly and absolutely get rid of their old one for the 2021 if they had a choice. What they didn’t get rid of is the theme of the worse part of relationships - “Release Me” is about probably wanting to be let go of and released rather than kept by the side when it’s probably not working out. “The Wrong Place” is one of those episodes that probably happened during then - they had a house conflict, she chose to have a smoke to forget about it, the man’s after her Johnny Cash T-Shirt. Not much else to say about the song’s technicality fortunately than I’ve already said so much about the band, so how does it fare in the Hoover-lore, for me?

REVIEW

See, I would like to root for Luka ever having her chance to get to experience Eurovision if she wishes, but maybe it’s lowkey for her own benefit she wasn’t the chosen vocalist for the song, as Geike could do “Release Me”, but Luka wouldn’t be able to do “The Wrong Place”.

“The Wrong Place” is well-suited to the first vocaliste’s melancholic blend-in timbre, and a singer like Luka would sound a little too light on this with her soft-spoken sound of her voice. Besides, I don’t think she could be old enough to relate to the lyrical subject’s domestic struggle issue. Not to say 20 year olds don’t smoke and drink, it’s just that “The Wrong Place” feels a little bit too much mature enough.

Although I think that both of them could absolutely rock the music video visuals.

The song itself is very Hooverphonic. They used to do this kind of standout triphoppy sound back in the days, but as of lately they kind of grew out of the label to do more of the music that kinda sounds like movie soundtrack music. Idek the exact label I could give it to their music so move soundtrack music it is I guess. It has a decently paced structure (could’ve done without the overly repetitive ending where they repeat “you’re in the wrong place” over and over, like ffs I know where I am!!), and interesting lyrical choices. Such as “organic cup of... tea”, as in, WOW! HOOVERPHONIC HAS ENOUGH WITH THE TEABAGS FULL OF GROUND AND GRINDED TEA! THEY WILL ONLY MAKE TEA FROM PURE HERBS AND FLOWERS, AS IT WAS USED TO BE DONE! and acting like her Johnny Cash T-Shirt is the kind of prized possession her man is not allowed to wear to rub it in her face. Imagine if it was something more mundane. “Don’t you ever dare to wear my... pink polka-dot T-shirt”? Damn right it doesn’t seem to suit the mood lol.

It’s not what I exactly wanted from Hooverphonic, but probably what I subconsciously needed from them anyway, ever since they were announced for 2020. I only got into “Release Me” sometime AFTER the contest, “The Wrong Place” is a bit more instant to stand behind. So well done to them to commit to their craft.

Approval factor: I guess I do have to stamp this with my stamp of approval. It’s nice and all. Follow-up factor: “The Wrong Place” follows up as a more of a Hooverphonic discography track after the fairly average and overlookable “Release Me” (eventhough the latter has the tinge of theirs as well because it’s a more symphonic ballad, and they do have symphonic stuff on their discog afterall). As a Eurovision entry, it comes across as even better somewhat, and even slightly more standout, but that might not necessarily work in their favour. Qualification factor: And that’s because they’re absolutely stranded in the semi with too many qualification choices to name. Belgium gets to be a bit quasi-obvious, but they’ve failed with a Hooverphonic-penned song before, plus, the pop girlies of this semi are more likely to eat out a band like this alive, but I wouldn’t exactly say Belgium is doomed to fail either, because I am positive Hooverphonic will think of something. I’m just saying that shocking things can happen every now and then.

INTERNAL CORNER

Well, considering Alex Callier is not running his mouth this time as much as he did so last year’s season, I think it’s safe to say that Hooverphonic have had nothing to write home about.

No, wait...

Well I did mention that Luka got replaced as one of the events that happened to Hooverphonic’s lifetime, but thank God that Alex promised her a solo career, right? Right?

Well, apparently, we’re getting towards it.

And the first lyrics of her first solo forray post-Hooverphonic-vocalist-duties features the lyrics about possibly her making someone “regret it”. Lol now watch this song to be a karma kick into Hooverphonic’s ass if Belgium happens to not qualify this year. Luka forewarned y’all with sharp precision.

Annnnnd that’s pretty much it, besides the band jumping on the trend of turning their entries into a Festivali i Këngës 59 acoustic night European version by presenting their own acoustic version of this track. I did not have the kind of courage to link to the Azerbaijan’s “slow version” on their review in fear of overruning my post even longer than they would usually be for these reviews, but at least it moves people to a certain degree

Well, my question of the days is, does “The Wrong Place” in acoustic make you sad twerk?

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ANY LAST WORDS?

Belgium’s big weakness is when it comes to stage their entries, notably for the last two years where the Eurovision actually happened. Sennek was awkwardly put in the middle and succumbed to the curse of Lucie Jones of grimmacing too much and therefore ruining her score in the process, possibly. Eliot was just simply upstaged by the decision to include big drums on stage. Alex Callier acknowledges all that sort of thing, so if anything goes absolutely right and Hooverphonic manage to make it to Rotterdam (which I think they can do because Belgium and Netherlands are neighbours lol? unless their lockdown rules get super strict in May), he should get on to mending all the flaws that Belgium had in the past for staging, and have a spectacular vision. Because it’d be sadly hilariously ironic if Hoovers miss out on the final due to the staging again. Can’t just constantly blame the vocalist - Geike would be flawless live, if Hooverphonic trusted in her for so many years. Can’t blame the song - it’s not too bad. So staging, I guess.

Good luck Hooverphonic, you’ll certainly need it. Also can RTBF consider that they could send anything else from the Wallonian music scene other than The Voice Belgique acts~

#eurovision #eurovision 2021 #rotterdam 2021 reviews #belgium #hooverphonic #the wrong place

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