#this is a review no one but me cares about but it's not on letterboxd and i am obsessed w cataloging okay

[tamaharu]

okay i wrote my letterboxd review im normal now

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

ok rant time

one of my BIGGEST fucking pet peeves is when someone (an actor/musician/comedian/whoever) has a style that is clearly influenced by another popular entertainer of some kind and instead of being like 'oh it's cool they're clearly inspired by this person' people IMMEDIATELY start bashing them with being like 'oh you will NEVER be as good as that person' or 'oh they wanna be this person SO bad' like SHUT the FUCK up fr lol

[girltomboy]

I talk a lot of shit about Letterboxd for someone who spends a lot of time on there during movies. But the truth is, I renewed my account thinking it would help me keep track of my movies and maybe make a watchlist. But I'm still crossing movies off of my notes app list, and throwing my thoughts about the ones I watch on here. Because I'm deeply uncomfortable with the Letterboxd experience, all people do on there is write one-sentence meme reviews that have mostly nothing to do with the movie itself, just for the likes, and perform. That's literally the word for what's going on there. That, or they just compare a contemporary movie to some random cult classic from 50 years ago that vaguely has the same theme or is inspired by the same phenomena. And it just gets so tired and boring really quickly. And I can't be on there without hurting from the cringe. So far ever since I recreated my account it's only helped me keep track of the movies I watch. And tbh I've been watching a lot more movies recently, but I think that's due to my bf having exams and spending less time with me during the evenings.

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

TAKE YOU DOWN A PEG ─── neil lewis ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me." — Beau Taplin.

pairing. sub!neil lewis x reader

summary. gumshoe video’s got a rude customer who neil can’t seem to ban…

warnings. swearing, voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, breathplay, oral sex (m), cockwarming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 5.3k

a/n. the hardest thing about writing this was scouring letterboxd for obscure films that i think neil would foam over. pls don’t beat me to death if my film references miss the mark 😭

Neil loves his job. Seriously, seriously, he does. It's completely self-satisfying, his personal passion project that’s taken up a large amount of his life, and brings him the uttermost joy of allowing him to do what he does best: recommend films. 

Gumshoe Video is like his fucking baby, and he takes care of it, immensely; he wipes down every tape every Sunday, he sweeps the floor and rearranges the furniture, he organizes the tapes almost constantly, and he does his hardest to provide stellar, passionate - if almost annoying - film advice. He wants the reviews up on this place, alright, otherwise it feels like he’s letting his baby down. 

Now, if there’s one thing Neil hates about his job, just one minor, teensy weensy thing, it’s probably you. You, the rude customer who came in three months ago and has come in everyday since. 

The day you and Neil Lewis met was one just like the rest. Gumshoe Video was promoting old spaghetti westerns; Neil was wearing a cowboy hat and opening deliveries from a video tape shop in Calabasas that had closed down; you were coming off work and were daydreaming, dizzily entering shops to get your mind off the irritatingly mundane job you had. Unlike Neil, you fucking hate your job. 

You had entered Gumshoe, browsing lazily through the Film Noir section, when Neil sprung up like a weed behind you, speaking animatedly about how the best film noir’s had to be Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, or Double Indemnity, and if you’d ever watched them before. 

As Neil blabbered on, your left eyebrow became increasingly raised. Finally having enough of him, you spoke. “So, are you one of those guys that talk all over the girl and ask them if they’ve ever seen Citizen Kane, or if I can even name five Ingmar Bergman movies for you?”

Neil spluttered, flustered with being confronted about his obsessive cinephile talking habit of carrying the conversation away like a track runner in a relay race going off with the baton in the wrong direction. “What? I was just —“

“— name dropping film noir’s, ‘cause I’m some ditzy, uncultured bimbo bitch who mistakenly walked in, right?” You said, rolling your eyes. Later, in retrospect, you’ll wonder if you were too rude; then, you’ll remember you don’t give a fuck, you were having a bad day, and Neil Lewis had one hell of an annoying face. 

Neil’s face grew offended, an irritated furrowed brow wiggling onto his features. “If you don’t want to watch what I recommend, you don’t have to!” he exclaimed, arms up placatingly in the air. 

“Uh huh, okay, and you don’t have to shove your pretentious cinephile knowledge up my ass.”

He just stared at you, boring his bright blue eyes into your own, face contorted so exasperatedly you might as well have climbed up to the stars, plucked the moon from the sky, and used it as a pillow. 

My god, Neil thought. Are you just a rude customer? Or did you get off on berating small businesses like a sadistic freak?

After a moment of you two staring each other down in the fluorescent artificial light of Gumshoe, both looking terribly affronted, you left. 

Neil would then rant about this “insane customer” for at least twelve hours straight to anyone who’d liste. The next day, the distasteful experience was extremely close to thereby fully exiting his mind, but didn’t, because you, yes, you, walked in again. 

You shot straight daggers with your eyes at Neil, but your expression became soft, demure, and gentle when you saw Jonathan manning the register instead. You trailed through the aisles unperturbed, Jonathan too busy sporting a hangover from working the late shift at that obscure speakeasy copycat bar (in which, as often as possible, he would sneak a shot to stay awake) to recommend films. 

In any case, that was Neil’s job, and Jonathan leaned over to whisper in his ear: “Neil, man, do me a favor and please distract that customer -- fuck, this headache’s killing me…”

Neil protested, shaking his head rapidly. “That’s her.”

“Her who?”

“Her! The - customer who -- who yelled at me!” 

Jonathan blinked blearily, clearly still too incapacitated to think about the matter much. “She yelled at you… and she’s back. Here. And why exactly is that…?”

“To yell at me s’more, probably!” Neil whisper-shouted incredulously. 

Suddenly, you broke Neil and Jonathan out of their not-so-quiet argument by slamming down Gumshoe Video’s copies of Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity. The irony did not miss Neil - honestly, it was a little on the nose, even for him. 

“Thought I’d see what all the rage was.” you explained “sweetly”, gesturing to Neil as you spoke, indignation seeping through your every word. Your grudge was, well, mostly unexplained, ‘cept for the fact you yourself were an avid cinephile, had watched those three movies more than you could count, and did not take Neil’s “have you watched these before” kindly. 

Thus started you and Neil’s long-winded rivalry slash animosity slash terribly caustic back-and-forth correspondence. 

You keep coming to Gumshoe Video, because, despite your anger towards Neil, you fucking adore the place. The films are downright amazing, the atmosphere is like fucking heaven with the walls lined full of video tapes, decorated in classic film props, campy lifesize cardboard cutouts making you jump at every turn, and Gumshoe Video’s concept is insanely different (and lightyears better) than the corporate monolith that is Media Giant. 

He keeps coming to Gumshoe Video because, again, Neil loves his job, and treats Gumshoe like he carried it for nine months and has been lovingly raising it for the five years it's been open. 

From that first incident, you and Neil’s relationship twisted a little into something like this: you come in, insult him on whatever costume he’s wearing, return the tapes you rented the other night, argue with him for exactly an hour and a half on the couch, insult him for another ten as you browse the store, ignore his film recommendations, and rent three more movies. 

He waits for you to enter, wears the ugliest costume he owns to visually assault you, gladly takes the tapes back, argues with you for 1 and ½ hours, fires back retorts as you insult him, recommends movies he thinks will make you jump out your apartment window, and gives you your movies. 

You’re the minor, teensy weensy headache Neil experiences everyday, but at least, at the very least, Gumshoe makes daily dollars from your rentals - kinda like the payback or relief fund a town gets after a hurricane’s run through it. 

But, (somewhat?) shamefully… there’s a reason Neil doesn’t just ban you from the store and live his life without ever thinking of you again. 

This reason occurred to him a month ago, when he was in the backroom, pasting barcodes and information stickers on tapes that were yet to be placed in the store. You were looking for the washroom, awkwardly stumbling through the back hallway of Gumshoe Video, and since you couldn’t find Neil — he, in spite of the nature of your relationship, trusted you to look around and rent the tapes by yourself, having done it several times while arguing with him at the counter — you had to brave through it alone.

Now, the thing about the room Neil was in — more of a shoe closet than a room, honestly — was that it was locked from the outside, and he didn’t have the key. The key was currently in the hands of one Lucien, who had gone to buy takeout for the two of them because of the late night cataloging of new tapes ahead of them. 

And… he was taking about a hundred years to come back because he was trying to get the cashier’s number at their usual Chinese restaurant. 

Anyway, imagine this: you’re looking for the washroom, and the door to a small room is propped open. You enter, don’t think much of the small stack of empty tape boxes acting as a door stopper, and let it close. The light in there is dim, just a shitty little ceiling light; Neil turns, tapes in his hand; you turn, after closing the door. 

Finally, remember: the room is more of a shoe closet than a room.

“Jesus -- christ!” Neil yelped, startled at your sudden appearance. “What  -- the hell are you doing here?” 

“I take it this isn’t the bathroom?” You murmured, ignoring his question and shifting uncomfortably. Seriously, the tape closet was only meant for one person in it at a time. 

If the lights were brighter, you would’ve seen how hard Neil rolled his eyes; they almost rolled out of his head. “Well, I don’t think so, given the lack of toilet, sink, and light, no.”

“Well, Neil,” you purred, hot breath curling around the sensitive skin of his neck, “maybe, just maybe, you should have a sign for the bathroom, so I don’t have my tits any closer to your face than I want them to.” You said this sweetly, voice husky, low, and oddly sultry, but Neil knew better than that: you probably wanted to fucking kill him right now.

You were right, though; your tits were flush Neil’s bandy chest, the heat between you two growing the longer you were this close in proximity. 

“Now get me out of here,” you said quickly after, ignoring how warm Neil felt against your body. You’d turned so your back faced him, hands twisting at the silver knob of the door - which, Neil honestly didn’t know why was there, considering it didn’t fucking work. 

Neil sighed. “The door locks from the outside.” 

“What?” You said, distracted by leaning down to press your weight against the door like it was just sticky. Moments later, “…What?” you all but shrieked, hands falling from the knob, turning to face him once more. 

And, again, if the lights were brighter you’d have seen Neil’s face better: he was bright fucking red, because, apparently not accounting for the small space of the room, you’d leaned and obliviously had your ass pressed right against him. It didn’t help that his large, warm hands, having long since dropped the tapes he was labeling, hung near the flesh of your rear, having nowhere else to go in the limited space.

Neil thanked the small mercy God graced upon him that there wasn’t any kind of friction, so his soft cock remained just that: soft, and barely noticed by you. 

“The door locks from the outside.” Neil repeated breathlessly, the amount of air in the shoe-box room being incredibly small, too small to share between the two of you. 

“Fucking…” You cursed under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. “So, what, we have to stay here ‘till someone busts us out? What’re you gonna do if I go batshit and eat you or something?”

“For one, Lucien isn’t going to take that long to come back. Anyway, why’re you assuming you’ll overpower me - what if I go batshit and tear into you?”

You snorted, like the connotation he could overpower you was completely implausible. “Neil, Neil, Neil,” you repeated nonsensically, before lifting a hand up to his shoulder and digging your nails into him, the fabric of his shirt obviously not thick enough to distort your strength. “I could have you pinned down in less than a minute. I do other things than watch movies all day, unlike your lanky ass.”

Neil merely let out a chagrined laugh in response, hands clammy at the thought: you pinning him down— he then shook himself mentally, about to slap himself upside the head. Fucking hell, this situation was doing things to him. 

“You don’t believe me?” You retorted with a raised brow. Swiftly, your hands curled around Neil’s wrists, pinning them behind him and pressing his back against you. “How about now, huh?” you whispered softly in his ear, making his head swim. 

Your chin rested on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck, and it took everything in Neil not to let out a breathy keen — this was all too much for him: your touch, your voice, and the apparent dawning on him that he found you terribly, massively, attractive. 

“Fuck, I, er - - um,” Neil scrambled for a response, when the door to the tape closet suddenly opened. Your hands released him immediately, and you strided out, breathing in deeply. 

On the other side stood Lucien, plastic takeout bag in one hand, closet key in the other. “What happened to you?” he asked confusedly, as Neil filed out after you, gaze trained on your stretching figure walking off. 

“We got, uh -- locked, in the- in the tape closet.” Neil murmured, thoughts still fuzzy from your rough touch. 

“With her?” Lucien shuddered, handing Neil the chinese takeout bag sympathetically. “You need this food more than I do.”

So, there it was. Neil’s reason. He would’ve called you an insufferable bitch that he never wanted to see enter Gumshoe Video ever again hundreds of times by now — if your sensual voice insulting him didn’t get him all tight in the pants. 

He began having thoughts — thoughts of you. You, whispering vulgar, humiliating words in his ear, your hands carding his hair, pulling tight against his scalp, selfishly making him do whatever you wanted him to do, no matter his pleas. 

The fantasy was unlike anything Neil had dreamed up before, having always believed it should be him on top, him controlling the situation, him dominating — but it wasn’t a bad one. He’d come faster than he ever did before, just by imagining you were rolling your hips into his own… your strength pinning him down… your lips brushing past the shell of his ear, telling him he was so fucking dirty, so filthy for being this needy. 

However, that was all just a vague, distant pipedream, especially with how you seem to actually hate him. All the interaction he’d had with you consisted of poisonous, irritated words, insults and curses — which had him feeling both incredibly turned on, and sick at the fact he was attracted to you just by being mean to him. 

Sometime after that, nearing the end of the work day, Neil was the only one left there: Jonathan had taken the morning shift, and Lucien was, surprisingly, on a date with the cashier at their usual Chinese restaurant place. Looks like he succeeded in getting her number, while Neil had been pressed against you in that tiny tape closet, moments away from getting a hard-on. 

So, Neil was the only one there - and you were the only customer there. Your daily routine of stopping by and verbally attacking him was late today, so it was nearing midnight when you and Neil sat on the couch and began arguing. 

“I’m sure your “manly” ego isn’t at all pathetic and easily hurt by the superiority of Mia Farrow’s performance in Rosemary’s Baby.” You spat, leaning into the diverse array of old throw pillows that sat on the couch day after day. 

Neil rolled his eyes, hands up in the air animatedly. “My manly ego - and I don’t enjoy the sarcasm nor the air quotes you’re using - isn’t pathetic, nor easily hurt! Mia Farrow just wasn’t better than John Cassavetes was. I stand by the fact they were equal.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, your hand coming down on Neil’s knee to dig into him angrily. “Neil, I don’t expect you to understand her performance - I don’t think anyone does, not with that little cinephile brain you have. Do you do any thinking up there, or is it just The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on rewind?”

Neil flushed, both at the insults and how your hand was on his fucking leg. “What about you? What is it that makes you keep coming back here if you think my opinion is so… worthless and entitled?” 

You grit your teeth, leaning in closer to him. “Because, Neil, this is the only other video tape shop for miles, and I will not be caught dead at Media Giant. Trust me, I despise this - “arrangement” of ours, far more than you do.”

He huffed, his gaze trailing over your features, unable to come up with a response: he was too busy focussing, trying not to zero in on how your face was inches away from one his, your fingers oddly inching up his thigh. 

“Don’t go making this about me. Why is it,” your continued, hands traced dizzying circles into the fabric of his jeans, “that you don’t just kick me out? I come in here, day after day, berating you, ignoring your recommendations… shouldn’t I have been banned a long time ago?”

Neil gulped. “You’re still a - a customer, one who rents daily I might add—“

You smirked up at him. “Don’t lie to me. I know Gumshoe’s doing just fine… and I heard you, y’know? Last week… in your office.”

“What? What are you talking about?” He stammered out, racking his head for what he might’ve been doing in his office— fuck. 

Fuck, he thought, mind racing rapidly, he thought you had already left by the time he started— 

“I heard you, hiding in your office… stroking yourself, moaning my name.” 

You’d rented just one tape last Friday, for a movie date with a guy from work, and you almost left - before realizing Neil took your membership card and never gave it back. You waltzed back in, and to your obvious surprise, Neil wasn’t at the register. 

“Neil?” You called out softly, trying not to spark an argument with him that would span hours, because you were trying to show up to this date on time. 

You walked down the back hallway, and found his office door, which had a gleaming NEIL LEWIS printed on its foggy glass. 

Your hand had almost reached for the handle, his name on the tip of your tongue, when you heard a needy whine slip past the door. Shocked, you lingered and pulled your hand away, pressing your ear against the pane to listen closer. 

“God, fuck,” you heard Neil curse, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Need you so bad,” you heard him whisper to no-one but himself, before a low moan belted out of him. 

Your face grew warm, immediately, flushed at the news that Neil-fuckin’-Lewis was jerking off, in his office, mumbling your name. You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to listen to his pretty voice, and after several moments of your lust-riddled mind drinking in his sweet noises, how he was so focussed on his pleasure while completely oblivious to your listening in, you found one of your hands coming up to tweak your erect nipple — fuck, his stuttered little moans had your cunt pulsing with utter need.

Neil was getting close, you could tell, hearing him buck into - what you assumed - was his wooden desk, sloppily muffled mewls leaving his mouth. 

You were biting down on your lip, hard, an incredible amount of self control in place. The man was so horny, sounding so fucking submissive it drove you insane: just the thought that he’d bend to your will and do whatever you wanted made your legs clench.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending who you ask, you felt your phone begin buzzing in the waistband of your modesty shorts - probably the date you were late for - and you had quickly fled. 

“Oh, jesus,” Neil blurted out now, alarmed, immediately in the flight part of fight or flight. “I- whatever you heard, I can - I can explain, really, so please don’t—“

Your hand gripped his thigh, keeping him from getting up. “Hey, hey, shh,” you said, bringing a finger to your lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know, just as well as you do, how bad you want me.”

Truly, Neil couldn’t control himself that night. You had walked in, wearing a delicious little dress with a sweetheart neckline, strolling around in 3-inch heels, cooing mockingly at his costume for that week’s theme — a criminal wearing nifty little handcuffs to promote the double feature promotion of crime films and dramas — purposely leaning down to make him feel smaller than you. 

Neil had flushed, looking away, willing himself not to let out a needy groan at your get-up, instead silently checking out your tape rentals and quickly handing them back to you. After you’d walked out of the store, he’d dashed to his office, feeling the tent in his pants grow warm, aching. 

Quite similarly to how he felt now, your eyes coursing over his entire form, so close Neil felt himself sinking into the couch. 

“Look how fucking hard you are already.” you whispered, hand drawing away from his thigh and reaching for the bulge in his jeans, palming him between the fabric. “Does it turn you on? The fact you got caught?”

Neil’s breath hitched. “Fuck, please, I—“ 

“You’re so pathetic.” You said, laughing at him. “I can feel how big you are, such a thick cock, and all you know how to do with it is beg.”

Your plush lips were curled into a cheshire grin, baring your sharp teeth at him, and Neil was ashamed at how badly he wanted those teeth to press painful bites into his sensitive skin. 

He was about to whine again, plead desperately, but he shut up when you slipped off the couch, sinking to your knees, fingers undoing his belt buckle and fly. Shifting his jeans down, you dipped your hand down the waistband of his boxers and pulled his cock out: it was angry, hard and begging for release. 

But you wanted to tease him before you got to the good part. First, your warm breath fanned over his cock, making him jump, trying to rut up into your mouth, and your soft lips slipping past his leaking head had his hands tugging at your hair, trying to pull you closer to him. 

You thinned your eyes and got up, hand pressing his cheeks together and forcing his jaw open. You spit into his mouth, then patronizingly patted his face, “Do that again and I won’t touch you - I’ll take my tapes and leave you a needy fucking mess on this couch.”

Neil groaned, your spit foreign and hot on his tongue like lava. “God, I… I just wanna — want you so bad.” 

You tutted, sinking back down on your knees to face his rock hard length up and pressed flat against his abdomen. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it, you desperate fucking pervert. D’you know who jerks off in their office to someone they barely know? Fucking perverts.”

He leaned his head back, a moan leaving his lips at your insulting choice of words. It felt like you were torturing him, but his body wanted nothing more than you. 

Your lips then ghosted past him for another moment before you started your assault on his strained cock: you laid tentative kitten licks all the way down his length, enjoying how he squirmed under you, wanting nothing more but your wet mouth around him. Then, without warning, you took him in your mouth whole, tongue dragging and curling around his cock. You devoured him salaciously, hollowing your cheeks, sliding his cock in and out of your full mouth at an alarming speed, hitting the back of your neck with each thrust. 

Your tongue felt heavenly on his cock: wet, warm, and sticky, lapping at him without stopping. Your teeth grazed against him lightly, and Neil’s back arched into your touch. 

He was practically convulsing now, drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pure pleasure you were inflicting on him with no split second or moment for him to regain his composure. You wanted to see him fall apart, come undone just by your mouth, he realized, and he wanted to let you, wanted to let go — but, as fast as you’d taken his hard cock into your mouth, you let him drop from your lips. 

“Why did you - please, fuck -- why did you stop?!” Neil whimpered noisily, head rolling onto his chest to look down at your face: lips plump, faint tear tracks running off your cheeks, your gagged spit falling from your chin. 

“I oughta take you down a peg, Neil. Show you what a dumb fucking loser you are, pretending you’re so confident, so dominant, like you know everything there is about movies.” You responded nonchalantly, getting up and shedding your panties and leggings. 

“M’not dumb,” he whined, looking at you through heavy lidded eyes, “god, you’re killing me here.”

“You’ll live,” you grinned, climbing on his lap and lining your wet sex with the fat head of his cock. Then you descended down on him, watching blissfully as his cock disappeared into your folds.

Neil’s hands wrapped around your waist, burying his face into your neck. He mewled against your skin, drunk on your tantalizing scent, lips wet with drool and leaving a slick trail. 

Despite your dominance in this situation, completely controlling Neil’s pleasure, you couldn’t control your own: Neil’s cock felt fucking good, long and thick in all the right places, a curve that arched right against your cervix, veins rubbing against your walls pleasantly. He stretched your cunt completely, making you wince, but there was still pleasure there, the feeling of your crevices being filled with his fat cock making your toes curl. 

After a moment of getting used to his cock, you rose back up, then sunk down, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Neil’s head shot back, a labored cry leaving him as you set a steady, almost too slow pace, torturously sliding his cock in and out of your tight hole. 

Your hands trailed across his still-clothed chest, and you grieved the chance lost to have stripped him, your touch teasing him every step of the way — but having him deep within you was probably better. 

“Your- fuck, you’re so -- so soft,” Neil squeaked below you, revelling in how you took him, bottoming out each time like it was nothing. 

You simpered at his words, how helpless he was, succumbing to the pleasure; to you. “Knew you were,” you slammed down on his cock, making Neil choke, “pretending to be arrogant. You just needed someone to put you in your place.” 

Neil hadn’t realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question until your hand came up to his hair, tangling through his locks and tugging. “Who d’you belong to? Who put you in your place?” you murmured lowly. 

He whimpered at your roughness, leaning into the sofa obediently. “You! You own me,” he pleaded, desperately chasing his own pleasure. 

“That’s it,” you said, shutting your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock faster. Your ass bounced above him, and Neil’s hands rested on the flesh of your rear, massaging you. 

Greedily, Neil tried to thrust into you, but you weren’t having any of it, deterring his attempts by pushing him so he laid flat on the couch, your hands pinning his wrists above his head, the new position pushing him deeper into you. 

“You stay down, you dirty fuckin’ loser,” you said caustically, but your actions said otherwise: your walls were squeezing around him needily, your cunt sucking him in so far you could feel his balls brushing against your clit. 

The tip of his cock brushed past your g-spot each time you rutted into him, and soon enough you felt it: that pulsing, that heat, that familiar coiling within your insides. Neil was reaching it too, his face flushed pink and his breathing as heavy as it was back then, in the tape closet. 

You began thumping down on him, your fingers tightening around his scalp. Your pace had gotten feverish, bordering feral, both your minds focussed on one thing: release. You could feel your cunt tensing, your mind going foggy, and then, there it was: your pleasure ran through you like electric current, shocking your body. You felt numb, tingly like when the blood flow to your arm gets cut off for a moment, making your pace stutter. 

You didn’t stop, however, riding out your high on his cock, bouncing up and down on Neil’s thick length. He felt fucking delicious, piercing you in all the right ways, and you adored how malleable he was right now: so horny and submissive he stopped speaking and was merely letting dirty moans leave his mouth without any protest. His gaze, his focus, was elsewhere, lost in the deep haze of pleasure your cunt was subjecting him too. 

You leaned down, pressing small love-bites onto his skin like he’d fantasized so many times before, and it broke him out of his stupor. “Did you think of this, in your office?” you whispered, “did you think of me, my tits bouncing, your cock deep in my cunt?”

“Ugh,” Neil groaned, reveling in how your seductive voice sounded like music. He was much, much closer than he thought, and when you licked up his jaw, your hot breath on the shell of his ear making him sweat, your cunt still fucking him roughly, he let go. 

You felt it first, the familiar liquid bursting past his thick head and painting your fleshy walls creamy, like a new coat of alabaster that Gumshoe desperately needed. 

“So good, so wet,” Neil groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. You stared at him, watching his lewd expression throughout his entire high, waiting for that beautiful blue gaze of his to open and face you again. 

“I’m milking you dry. Look how fucking full you’ve made me, you filthy pervert.” You were taking him for every drop he could offer, and it was delectable. 

You two were heaving now, both coming down from your highs. You’d effectively ruined the couch, your slick soaking the cushions and his jeans, as well as his come, which was leaning out of your still-stuffed hole. 

“I think you’ve gotta replace this manky ass couch, Neil,” was the first thing you said, your hands sliding down from their grip in his hair to his pink cheeks, rubbing his skin delicately. 

His eyes opened, watching you carefully. “It was about time,” Neil shrugged breathlessly. “Do you… do you actually - hate me?” he continued, murmuring self-consciously. 

You laughed, but it wasn’t sharp, not at him like before, no; it was tender, like a scarf Neil wanted to wrap around him in the winter time.

“I never hated you,” you murmured, tone reverent, “you’re just a little, how does it go…”

“Presumptuous?” Neil finished for you. 

You nodded, then grasped at his shirt and pulled him from the couch so he was sitting upright again. “Jus’ wanted to, ahem, “take you down a peg” like I said earlier..” you trailed off, cheeks growing warm remembering your earlier behavior during sex. 

This was all very new, to the both of you — you, in all your relationships and flings, were not the dominant partner. You guessed there was a first time for everything.

Then, you were about to get off his lap, but Neil held you steady on his cock. “Don’t go,” he said simply. “I’ve got Brief Encounter in the player, if you want to, y’know…” 

He wasn’t hard anymore, but it just felt good, cozy, having you two talk and regain your composure with him filling you nicely. It felt right. 

You smiled, a gummy, blissful smile. “Okay. I’ve actually never seen this,” you said, turning to face the tv, wincing slightly. 

“Really?” Neil said, an amazed joy seeping into his voice. 

“I’m joking,” you snorted, and you could practically see Neil pouting behind you. “But I don’t think we’ll be paying much attention…” you purred, clenching your thighs around his length. 

“Jesus fuck,” Neil groaned behind you, hands coming under your shirt, “you’re exactly like those movies.”

“I’m even better, baby.” 

[euphemiaamillais]

put me in a movie — roommate!snowjanus x reader

on a rather boring friday night, you decide that you can't just sit around with your roommates (boyfriends) and watch a boring movie... with your persistent whining, coryo decides you might just have to make one of your own

cw: 18+//threesome//piv sex//blowjobs//exhibitionism//backshots//degradation//coryo filming them fuck!//throuple goals <3

an: sorry it's been so long guys, i've been exhausted and too lazy to finish any of my drafts, but i hope you enjoy this one ;) i had to give you another roommates au!

the movie the boys had put on was terribly boring—coryo fancied himself something of a film connoisseur, but you knew that really, all he did was write long-winded reviews on letterboxd about godard films, that nobody read. sejanus was too much of a people-pleaser to say no to whatever either of you wanted to watch, so you were forced to sit through all two hours of fight club.

you were yawning twenty minutes in, never much one for the films that coryo enjoyed—you preferred anything with hugh grant or colin firth, which coryo gave you so much shit for. you knew that there were better things you could all be doing this friday night, and the nagging heat at your core was an indication of that.

about halfway through the film, you managed to nestle yourself into coryo’s lap. you rubbed your ass against his crotch, but he was so engrossed in the movie that he moved you off his crotch and back to your spot on the couch.

‘coryo,’ you whined, clambering back on top of him and peppering kisses across his face.

‘stop,’ he scowled, shoving your pawing hands away.

you frowned, turning to glance at sejanus who seemed a little less engrossed in the film than coryo, and so decided that your best bet at relieving your tension was him. you pressed a kiss to his cheek, and his eyes flickered over your features; drawn into a look of desperation.

‘sej, i’m bored,’ you murmur, straddling his lap, both sides of your thighs pressing against his.

‘yeah?’ he cocked a brow, still trying to peer at the movie past you.

you let out a heavy sigh, bubbling with vexation at their ignorance of you. why were they more interested in the movie than you? when you were so needy… normally they’d be over you in an instant, one of their hard-ons pressing against your thigh or poking against your ass.

‘i need some help,’ you whimpered, grinding your clothed cunt against his crotch.

‘baby, i’m trying to watch,’ sejanus’ hands grabbed at your waist, attempting to move you off of him, but you continued to rut your hips against him.

you knew it wouldn’t take long for sejanus’ body to respond, even if he cared more about stupid fight club than his hot roommate grinding on him. you peppered kisses down his neck, fighting his attempts to fend you off. a low groan escaped his lips as you ran your teeth across his pulse point, and you found that he was finally beginning to be receptive to your movements.

‘please sej, i really want to suck your cock,’ you pleaded, moving off of him and sliding to your knees.

you tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, the bulge of his hard-on visible. your mouth watered as you slid your hand under his boxers to palm at his cock. sejanus moaned at the feeling of your cold hands stroking his throbbing cock, and figured he couldn’t just say no.

coryo’s lips were drawn into a scowl, and he pressed pause on the film to cast you a disgruntled glare. you’d distracted him from appreciating this fine piece of art—you were totally going to ruin the vibe for his letterboxd review.

‘sej, she’s being a brat,’ coryo snapped, wrapping a firm hand around your wrist.

‘ouch,’ you pouted, but he wasn’t pressing hard enough for their to be pain.

coryo rolled his eyes, but decided that if you were really going to act like such a desperate whore, he ought to take advantage of it. he used his free hand to pull out his phone, and his features flickered into a look of slight amusement.

‘if you’re going to distract me from the film, ‘spose i’ll just have to make one of my own.’ coryo grinned, pulling you back onto the large sofa.

you felt the heat continue to pool at your core, being manhandled by him, and moved your other hand to continue palming sej—the poor thing hadn’t said a word but you could see a dark patch forming on his boxers that indicated his tip was leaking.

‘coryo, what are you-’ you were silenced by his fingers deftly rubbing at your inner thigh, causing a soft moan to escape your lips.

‘come on, show me how you suck cock,’ he commanded, putting the phone in your face.

your eyes were stretched wide, but you nodded, moving so you were on your knees and elbows, head facing sejanus’ crotch from the side. your ass was now in coryo’s face, and he let out a delicious groan at the sight of it—your skirt had managed to flip up, revealing the fact that you were wearing a tiny pair of lace panties.

‘fucking hell, sej, wish you could see this,’ he tutted, moving the phone camera so he could film your pussy.

you let out a whine as coryo’s fingers pulled your panties to the side, exposing your wet, clenching hole. he ran a teasing finger over your slick hole, sending your eyes back. your hands were curled around sejanus’ hard cock, but coryo was distracting you too much to allow you to follow his orders.

‘coryo, please,’ you mewled, attempting to slap his hand away.

‘come on, princess, you can do it,’ he said sternly, guiding your head down.

you obliged, and began to swirl your tongue around the tip of sejanus’ cock. he let out a heavy sigh, hand reaching out to grasp at your hair. you licked up the trickles of precum that were coating his shaft, the sound of your mouth popping sending shivers down sejanus’ spine.

coryo had ceased his teasing for now, instead focusing the camera on you and sejanus. he loved how humiliating it was, forcing you to suck sejanus’ cock before the camera, the threat that he could do anything with that video looming over your head. however, the thought of that was what egged you on—it wasn’t as if you hadn’t been filmed before. you’d always let sej and coryo film you when the other one couldn’t be there to share the fun.

you took sejanus in your mouth now, lips stretching around his thick shaft. coryo laughed a little, enjoying the way your eyes began to water as you pushed sejanus further down your throat.

‘fuck, baby,’ sejanus groaned, cock twitching in your throat.

‘such a slut, taking sej’s cock like that,’ coryo taunted, giving your ass a slap.

your knees buckled slightly, but you kept bobbing your head up and down sejanus’ cock, tongue laving at the sensitive veins that covered his shaft. coryo felt himself harden at the sight, the way you were gagging as you attempted to take sejanus all the way. he loved how no matter what, you were always gagging on the both of them—sej because he was so thick, and coryo, because, well, it wasn’t like you could take all eight inches down your throat.

coryo’s free hand reached to rub at his cock until it was fully erect, until he slowly tugged at the waistband of his pants and boxers to free himself. he moved the phone to show off his big, hard cock, laughing to himself as he began to rub it against your ass.

he slapped the tip of his cock against your ass, watching as you whined around sejanus’ shaft. sejanus let out a breathy grunt as your whine sent a shock of pleasure through his body. your fingers moved to grasp his balls, playing with them softly as you tongued the tip of his cock.

you giggled, eyes stretched wide with a dumb look in them, saliva trickling from your lips as you sucked at the head of his cock. coryo ran his cock through your soaking folds, shaking his head in disbelief at how wet you were.

‘fuck, so fucking wet, huh? getting off on being such a little slut for me?’ coryo cajoled, pressing his tip into your tight cunt, feeling you stretch around him.

‘can’t even speak your mouth’s so fucking full with sej’s cock,’ he spat, sliding his cock back out, earning a whimper from you at the loss of pleasure at your achy core.

‘so close baby,’ sej managed to spit out as you pushed him back down your throat, fingers still deftly grasping at his sensitive balls.

coryo saw his chance to send you over the edge and slammed his cock all the way in, focusing the camera on the way your back arched as he entered you. he couldn’t believe how much of a slut you were being, letting him film you taking two cocks.

you moaned against sejanus’ cock as he twitched again in your mouth, his hips bucking with desperation. a grunt escaped his lips, and his head rolled back in pleasure, cock releasing its pent up tension. hot spurts of his cum spilled down your throat as you sucked him to his release.

when you pulled off his cock, you swirled your tongue back around the tip, licking up all the spend and swallowing it prettily. sejanus smoothed back your hair gently, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. you gave him a sweet smile, but the way coryo was beginning to pound into you proved awfully distracting.

‘being too sweet to her, sej, when she’s a whore,’ coryo mused, cock stretching out your tight, wet cunt.

your eyes rolled back, toes curling with pleasure as he took you from behind. your skin danced with warmth, turned on by the fact that coryo was filming you in such a vulnerable position. the way you held your pert ass just so for him, your pretty pussy just waiting for him to enter it—god, he too felt his own release coming on.

‘fucking slut,’ coryo slapped your ass, and gripped the firm fat of your cheek between his hand as he drove into your cunt.

‘so good!’ you gasped, feeling the rigid veins of his big cock pushing against your tight walls.

sejanus watched as he began to stroke his now soft cock to hardening again, getting off at the very sight of you with your face beginning to press against the soft seat of the sofa. coryo grasped a handful of your hair, pulling you back up with a rather forceful snap.

‘keep your head up, fuck!’ he grunted, snapping his hips against your ass.

‘can’t, coryo,’ you whimpered, cunt clenching around his huge, throbbing shaft.

your body was overcome with pleasure—he wasn’t even touching your clit, the simple feeling of his cock pounding into you was enough to send you over the edge. your mouth stretched around several pretty moans, your eyes fluttering open and shut as the sound of your wet cunt taking him echoed across the room. coryo was going to love watching this back when he was horny.

‘such a good little whore, taking my cock,’ he praised you, tugging at your hair again, loud enough to elicit a whimper as your scalp begin to tingle.

‘you gonna cum for me?’ he inquired, hand moving to rub at your ass cheek.

you were surprised at his gentleness, and nodded, but your hopes of him being sweet dissipated when his hand smacked your ass firmly. you mewled, body rearing back as pain and pleasure mingled. you were so, so close, clenching around him as he thrust deeper, tip poking at your cervix.

you let out a haggard breath, and felt yourself unfurl, slick gushing around his cock. coryo shook his head with a groan, moving the camera so it showed your milky arousal coating his shaft.

‘look at that, so fucking wet for me,’ he grinned, continuing to pound you, your tight hole clenching wetly around him, a slick ring forming at the base of his cock.

sejanus was close again too, and you smiled at him as you took coryo’s cock, lips wet with drool from how deep coryo was burying himself inside of you. his cock pulsed ever so slightly, and you could tell that he was near to his release.

‘i want you to cum inside me,’ you whined whorishly, but coryo pulled out before you could finish begging for him.

‘nuh uh, sluts don’t get to be filled up,’ he laughed cruelly, beginning to stroke his cock with his free hand. ‘gonna cum all over this pretty ass. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

he was taunting you, cock pressing against your now red cheeks—hand prints visible as a reminder that this was a punishment, and you didn’t get a say when you’d decided to distract the two of them during the film.

‘fuck!’ coryo sighed as he came.

his pearly cum spurted out against your ass, trickling down to your lower back as you arched a little at the sensation. he let out another bemused chuckle, watching as sejanus came against his stomach, the pathetic look on his face clear to the both of you.

coryo put the phone down, and pulled you into his lap, uncaring that your ass was covered in his hot, sticky cum. he pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your lips before gazing at you with his baby blues.

‘next time, you’ll know better than to disrupt me when we’re watching a film.’

[shveris]

my jjk headcanons, part 3

tumblr pls give me more colors

part 1

part 2

part 4

satoru’s favorite color can only be seen with the six eyes. he’s tried explaining it to his peers multiple times but it just left him frustrated and everyone else very confused like “wdym you can see different colour spectrums????”

modern!au sukuna calls the number on missing animal posters, imitates the noise of the animal that’s missing and then hangs up (he does the same with missing children ones, too, if he’s feeling particularly unhinged)

modern!au yuuji has a letterboxd account and his reviews are the funniest shit you’ll ever read

he does the same with steam game reviews, too, and at some point dragged megumi and nobara into his shenanigans as well

first year suguru said “eat the rich” and satoru asked “why do you wanna eat me????” (shoko cried tears of laughter). this is how suguru found out satoru’s a nepo baby

adult satoru brings nanami cds and vinyls from emo/alt/rock bands as souvenirs whenever he has missions abroad. nanami keeps telling him to stop but the first thing he does when he arrives home is listen to them

nanami is also who megumi got his taste of music from since nanami babysat the fushiguro siblings some times when they were younger

cult leader suguru calls shoko whenever he gets a serious injury and asks her to come over and heal it (she gets there as fast as she can)

quitting smoking was very rough on shoko but babysitting the fushiguro siblings and studying for her medical license was a great distraction

modern!au choso doesn’t have the tattoo/mark over the bridge of his nose, instead it’s just a huge scar he got as a kid during some accident

megumi likes listening to rain sounds while falling asleep

satoru’s a little (read: huge) nerd. his bookshelves are filled with lectures and studies about physics and math theories, documentations of all kinds of natural sciences, he keeps up to date with everything in the field and even peeked into biographies of big science people

despite satoru and suguru being very cat-coded, shoko is actually more of a dog person (how does she put up with them? we’ll never know)

nobara regularly uses megumi and yuuji to test out her new nail polishes. she’d wipe it off for them after but at some point neither of them cared anymore so the boys just run around with colourful nails some times

when we see sukuna eat popcorn and drink soda during his fight with mahoraga, it’s because he saw yuuji eat/drink all those things while he was in satoru’s basement. he got curious and wanted to try himself but we saw how that ended

an addition to the hc above, sukuna also has forgotten the flavours and textures of all kinds of foods. modern era foods would really mess with his taste buds because heian period food wasn’t particularly known to be as flavourful as it is today + they didn’t really use oil back then. sukuna would certainly be insanely overwhelmed if given a modern meal

this is not really a headcanon but also not canon because gege never specified it: only cursed spirits can see sukuna’s tattoos. there’s several indications in both manga and anime that humans & shamans alike cannot see the tattoos (correct me if i’m wrong) but in season 2 jogo’s inner monologue proves that he can see them. i’d like to think it must be because he’s a cursed spirit, which means all cursed spirits (or high ranked ones) are able to see the marks

when satoru held yuuji in that basement for two months, yuuji taught him how to cook because “sensei, you’re an adult. how do you not know how to make tamagoyaki??? we can’t order takeout twice a day!” (yes yuuji, he can, he’s gojo fucking satoru, he has a black card and swims in money)

yuuji is good at every sports, even the ones he’s never played before

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

amber freeman x reader with 14 would be soooo good

14. ‘’Picturing you with someone else makes me sick.’’

SCREAM WEEK PT 3/7

I got multiple requests for this one character/prompt combo. I couldn't not write it

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Amber smiled at the party-goers inside her house as she walked through the kitchen, pleased to see that people were having a good time. Her house was the perfect place for parties. It was massive and her parents were out of town almost every weekend. 

She got roped into a conversation with Wes and Tara, sipping her beer every now and then. 

‘’We should go. I’ll ask Mindy if she wants to come,’’ Wes said, looking forward to tomorrow’s double feature. ‘’The drive-in is an hour from here, but I’ll ask to borrow my mom’s car.’’ 

Amber wrinkled her nose. ‘’Do we really have to invite her? I don’t want to deal with her detailed critiques on the drive back.’’ 

‘’They’re showing her favorite movie. We can’t not invite her, Amber,’’ Tara reasoned, not wanting to be the one to exclude a friend — even for understandable reasons. 

‘’The last time we went to the theater with her, she didn’t shut up the whole walk to your house,’’ Amber countered, her irritation evident in her voice. ‘’I do not care what she will write in her Letterboxd review or what she—’’ She didn’t get to finish her sentence, her jaw tightening when she caught a girl chatting you up on the couch. She had a mischievous grin as was leaning in close, her hand resting dangerously high on your thigh. ‘’I’ll be right back,’’ she told Tara and Wes, her eyes not withdrawing from you.

She made her way through the crowd, quickly coming up with a way to get the brunette to go away. You were her girl. 

‘’Sorry to interrupt,’’ she interjected, approaching the couch with a practiced smile. "Didn't you leave with Sabrina last week? You might want to have a chat with her. I overheard her mentioning something about chlamydia and possibly spreading it around. It might be a good idea to schedule a check-up with your doctor." 

The brunette beside you thanked Amber for the information and hurried off in search of Sabrina. Amber’s warning made her look like a good person, like she was looking out for that girl, but you knew her too well to believe her intentions were good. 

Amber took a sip of her beer, then huffed a laugh. ‘’They think that because they’re lesbians they can’t catch anything.’’ 

‘’Sabrina does not have chlamydia,’’ you asserted, eyeing Amber skeptically.

She shrugged nonchalantly. ‘’She might. She’s making out with Connor on the porch, the guy gets around a lot.’’

You gave her the benefit of the doubt for this once. ‘’I’m gonna get another beer,’’ you said, standing up to get a bottle in the kitchen, but Amber grabbed your arm. 

‘’Actually, we’re low on beer. Can you help me get some?’’ 

Following someone into their dark basement was on the list of things to never do in horror movies. That’s how a lot of idiots get murdered. But you doubted Amber would ever plot to kill you. She could be evil-minded, but she wasn’t a psychopath.

The basement door closed behind you, making you jump. ‘’How many beers do you need to bring up? Because if it’s more than a dozen, we should ask Chad for backup.’’

Ignoring your question, Amber halted at the bottom of the stairs, her gaze piercing into you like daggers. ‘’What the fuck was that?’’ she snapped, her tone sharper than the edge of a knife.

Caught off guard by her sudden outburst, you blinked in confusion. ‘’What was what?’’ 

‘’Don’t play dumb with me. I saw you flirting with that bitch upstairs. You let her put her hand on your thigh. On my couch.’’

Ah, so that's what all the tension was about upstairs. Why she made up that nasty rumor about Sabrina. Amber was jealous. 

‘’I thought we weren’t exclusive.’’ 

‘’We’re not,’’ she grumbled, defensive.

‘’Then why are you barking at girls that get anywhere close to me?’’ you pressed as you took a step forward, a hint of amusement creeping into your voice. ‘’Are you perhaps…jealous?’’ 

Amber's reaction was immediate, her pride refusing to let your insinuation slide. She let out an indignant huff. ‘’I’m way better looking than that girl,’’ she retorted, her voice dripping with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

She wasn’t wrong. No girl in Woodsboro was prettier than Amber. 

‘’Then why are you acting like she can take me from you? That girl and I were just flirting for fun — at least, I was.’’ 

Despite your reassurance, Amber didn't release her grip on her emotions. Instead, she closed the remaining distance between you, standing so close you could feel her breath as she spoke. ‘’Never do that again, got it?’’ she hissed with a possessiveness to her tone that made your core clench. ‘’Picturing you with someone else makes me sick.’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman  @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe  @gizmodecaprio @bingsbitch @buckyswhxre  @emerald-09

All and more taglist:  @kenqki  @hawkegfs  @gillybear17   @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade   @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff  @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

[sinclairstarz]

for the cinephile byler truthers. i made the party’s modern au letterboxd accounts

in my head mike wheeler is the film bro cinephile of the party. hes a big brad pitt fan and fincher is his favorite director if you even care.. dirty dancing would be in his top 4 if he was honest. he went to see dune cause hes a scifi nerd, ended up hating it so much and complained about it to will but still gave it 2 stars cause it was pretty. did leave a very mean review. very critical rater but mostly leaves high ratings because he just doesn’t watch things he doesnt wanna see.

alternative movies i considered putting: pulp fiction (5 stars), the killer (1 star), se7en (5 stars), across the spiderverse (5 stars), nope (5 stars) , the batman 2022 (4 stars), once upon a time in hollywood (5 stars), inglorious basterds (5 stars), the matrix (half a star)

the thing is so good and he has a poster of it on his wall in canon so it felt right. it just feels wrong not to do ghostbusters (plus its one of my favorite movies…) and yall need to hear me out on brokeback 😭😭😭 ur telling me he wouldnt bawl his eyes out??? ur wrong. will byers is a jake gyllenhaal lover. he watches dirty dancing a lot for mike, and loves ghibli movies a lot. he cried during rain man. honest rater but doesnt take it too seriously, mostly 4/5 star ratings

alternatives: saltburn (half a star), asteroid city (5 stars), blackkklansman (5 stars), the force awakens (3.5 stars), the perks of being a wallflower (4.5 stars), back to the future (5 stars)

rogue one because lucas has taste. its the best star wars movie, if u care. he would love how fun and goofy ghostbusters 2 is. in my head Wes Anderson is like the party’s claimed director and they all watch his movies together and do marathons because the weirdness, comedy, and emotional commentary is a perfect mix for them. so. bottle rocket. lucas’ favorite wes anderson is the grand budapest hotel if u wanted to know. he rates things pretty highly and isn’t super critical.

alternatives: dodgeball (5 stars), scream 5 (4 stars), the matrix (3 stars), good will hunting (5 stars), jurassic park (5 stars), die hard (5 stars),

likes making lucas watch gone girl on valentines day and telling him shes gonna do that to him next time he annoys her. v for vendetta is her favorite romance movie and shes a big marvel fan (in a cool way. kind of .) but thor ragnarok is probably one of her fav marvels, along with spiderman far from home and iron man. i just know she watches Casino Royale and decided she hated James Bond and then ended up watching all the Daniel Craig Bonds with Mike and loved Skyfall so much. the song is on her playlist and she did cry after No Time To Die.

Alternatives: Superbad (5 stars), baby driver (5 stars), bottoms (5 stars), 10 things i hate about you (3.5 stars), scream (5 stars), kill bill (5 stars), lord of the rings: the return of the king (1.5 stars)

also a bit of a film nerd. i considered giving him a star wars and i know in my heart he’d probably have empire somewhere in his top 4. but star wars is lame and i wanted to give him se7en so he fucking gets se7en. he knows john wick is objectively dumb but he doesnt care hes just here for a good time. the party probably watched saltburn together and all fucking hated it. I just know hes a kurosawa nerd and always goes when the local theatres do very rare special showings of his movies.

alternatives: baby driver (4 stars), the ewok adventure (5 stars) hot fuzz (5 stars) harry potter and the sorcerers stone (4 stars) legally blonde (5 stars) spirited away (5 stars) dazed and confused (5 stars)

she likes movies that make her feel all warm and fuzzy and hopeful. i wanted to give her breakfast club, but i think she’d honestly like sixteen candles more (even though breakfast club’s better). she cried at almost every movie in her top 4 and makes max rewatch juno with her like once a month. she gives most movies 5 stars unless she really hates them, and loves any movie thats fun to watch, even if its bad. she likes movies with pretty girls and fun colors.

alternatives: barbie (5 stars), legally blonde (5 stars), inception (2 stars), heathers (5 stars) pretty in pink (4.5 stars (she was mad andi didn’t end up with ducky)) my neighbor totoro (5 stars)

in conclusion if you haven’t seen They Cloned Tyron (2023) go watch it it deserved the oscar

[weirdstuffinthewoods]

Jane Schoenbrun and the Screen Trilogy

Director Jane Schoenbrun’s “Screen Trilogy” seems set to define a period that feels deeply personal to those whose adolescence was shaped by the meteoric rise of the internet and the isolating comfort of technology.

Using a cohesive blend of glowing cool-toned hues, long, lingering shots, and scores and soundtracks that perfectly evoke teen ennui and lonely melancholy, Schoenbrun has used the allure of the screen to craft dreamlike meditations on identity, isolation, and transness that leave viewers feeling so seen.

A quick glance at the tumblr tag, letterboxd reviews, or TikTok videos shows one common thread: Thank you, Jane. And it's well-earned from the beginning. (More under the cut)

With the first installment of the Screen Trilogy, Schoenbrun tackles the questioning of identity through fears generated from unrestricted childhood internet access (something that usually gave the millennial generation something we can never unsee). we’re all going to the world’s fair follows Casey, a teen who partakes in the viral World’s Fair Challenge that leads to an ambiguous separation of self that leaves the audience questioning whether Casey was truly losing herself or merely participating in an elaborate, creepypasta-fueled MMORPG. When speaking about the film with The Hollywood Reporter, Schoenbrun says,

“It really resonated and reminded me of something I went looking for online in my own youth, which was an effort to remove myself from my body and my identity and exist in a space where I could express myself creatively, and perhaps even explore myself personally, outside of ‘the real world.’”

Casey mentions at one point that she can feel herself leaving her body, adding to the overarching theme of dysphoria.

This and many other vulnerable moments are shared through video which is really the only way the audience gets to know Casey, a key piece of information when JLB comes into play. Like us, JLB sees Casey expressing a number of concerning symptoms and thoughts. JLB reaches out to Casey, an adult man reaching out to “save” a teenager he knows nothing about. The adolescents of the internet age know this character all too well.

Between the unspoken disquiet of JLB’s “guardianship” and the time spent with Casey out in the barn in the middle of the night watching ASMR videos with her stuffed lemur, Poe, Schoenbrun’s work reaches out to the kids who, like them, found solace on the internet. We found a world that was bigger than our little towns, we found ways to self-soothe (visual stim videos come to mind as the new ASMR), and sometimes we found people like JLB (we basically made Chris Hansen the hero he is- we love Chris Hansen). For the first time, the isolated, sometimes trans or questioning, internet kid in us felt seen.

Schoenbrun slapped us with nostalgia again in 2024’s I Saw the TV Glow, a magenta-saturated amalgamation of teenage ennui and suburban melancholy that pushes through your ribcage, reaching for your heart without you even noticing until 2/3 of the way through, your frantically beating heart is ripped from your chest among screaming tv static and sparks, leaving you silent in the face of wails of unimaginable pain and need.

Soft-spoken 7th grader Owen meets 9th grader Maddy who’s reading the episode guide for The Pink Opaque- a Buffy-style 90s paranormal teen show Owen has only caught glimpses of, but that he’s totally fascinated with. The two watch an episode together, and as Maddy leaves Owen tape after tape to watch on his own, the pull of The Pink Opaque becomes impossible to ignore.

Schoenbrun is open about it- “I really did live and breathe Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I cared about Buffy more than I cared about my real life”. The same was true for a lot of us. Millennial kids weren’t quite the latchkey kids of the 80s but also weren’t yet the iPad kids of the late 00s. Parents were still learning how to parent and were either too controlling (like Owen’s parents) or too absent (like Maddy’s). Piggybacking on the theme of identity from world’s fair, the kids that didn’t see themselves reflected in popular media or the cliques at school would become masters of escapism, using books, movies, or TV shows like Buffy (it was Charmed for me) to create an inner world where they felt safe, wanted, seen.

Where world’s fair is about the loss and search for identity, I Saw the TV Glow tackles the question of “what next?” What do you do when you know time isn’t moving right, that life isn’t supposed to feel like this? When you learn exactly how to fix it but it sounds absolutely terrifying and insane?

Maddy has no hesitation. “I’m getting out of this town…I’ll die if I stay here. I don’t know how or when exactly, but I know it’s true.” Owen, like Isabel in The Pink Opaque, Maddy says, is afraid of what’s inside him. In Variety, Schoenbrun comments on their differences.

“What we experience through Maddy is this ultimate self-liberation: you have to destroy yourself totally in order to be reborn as who you really are. … Maddy knows that there’s somewhere where she can be full and it’s not worth staying in this place.”

The film encloses a number of deeply disturbing, viscerally upsetting scenes in monologues that connect the audience with feelings of dysphoria, of the disjointed way trans people experience time, and the fear of that time running out in conjunction with the fear of the future. Like world’s fair, the conclusion is ambiguous, but more hopeful in its way. It acknowledges the pain, the fear, the sheer exhaustion of transitioning, but proves it as a method of survival, and reassures the audience, “there is still time”, before leaving them with a cut to pink static where they can cry it out to some Frances Quinlan.

Not too much is known about their third installment, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, but Schoenbrun explains that it both pays homage to and critiques the lineage of trans and queer villains as sexual deviants. The New Yorker sums it up as follows:

“[Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma] follows a queer filmmaker hired to direct a new installment of a long-running slasher franchise. The director fixates on the prospect of casting the “final girl” from the original movie, and the two women descend into a frenzy of psychosexual mania.”

Slated to be gorier and funnier (thank God) than the previous installments, Schoenbrun is now turning to the aftermath of transition and the reclaiming of identity through sex, an important and often overlooked facet of transness. They’ve also sold a book, Public Access Afterworld, originally meant to be a TV show but now taken down in literary form. Schoenbrun hopes it will rival franchises like Sandman or Lord of the Rings in its scope, finally giving trans media an epic of its own.

All this fan can say is I can’t wait.

Sources:

Jane Schoenbrun Finds Horror Close to Home | The New Yorker

'I Saw the TV Glow' Director Jane Schoenbrun on A24 Film's Trans Meaning (variety.com)

How We’re All Going to the World’s Fair Grew Out of Internet’s Subconscious (hollywoodreporter.com)

[bettsfic]

i can't stay quiet about this anymore. for weeks now i've thought, noo i won't write about knights of the zodiac on my blog. nobody cares. BUT it is the weirdest fucking movie i've ever seen and i need to tell you about it.

knights of the zodiac is an american made live action adaptation of the anime/manga saint seiya. before this film, i'd never even heard of it, but that doesn't matter, because i watched an interview with mackenyu (who plays seiya) who said that the director told him not to bother watching the anime or reading the manga, because he wanted this movie to be its own thing. you know, which is always a great way to bring in your core audience.

with that said, i'm viewing this film entirely on its own merit, with no context of the source material. so saint seiya fans may not want to read this.

the movie came out this past may. i was excited about it for no other reason than mackenyu starring in an american action movie. i'm honestly a little surprised people weren't more jazzed about that. there aren't a lot of japanese actors starring in big budget american action movies.

other cast members include sean bean (who, spoiler alert, dies), famke janssen, and mark dacascos. in case you don't recognize those names, they are, respectively, boromir/ned stark, jean grey from x-men, and the iron chef. if nothing else, i think it's worth watching for the utterly bizarre casting.

the premise, sort of: mackenyu, who appears to be contractually obligated to play angsty younger brother characters (i think this is the 7th thing i've seen him in where he is an angsty younger brother), has an older sister who is missing. he's a poor orphan boy who gets by on winning cage fights. or something. so boromir finds him and tells him he's destined to be athena's bodyguard, and he gets on board with this alarmingly fast, but not after antagonizing athena (who is not yet athena) and throwing out some snarky one-liners. he trains in the middle of nowhere with a masked lady who repeatedly kicks his ass, and he never changes clothes the entire time. there's other stuff too but it's secondary to the absolute batshittery of this movie.

i saw it on premiere night, which was also the premiere night of the new guardians of the galaxy movie. again, A+ move by the promotional team. so there i was on a saturday at 7pm. prime movie going time. and my best friend and i were the only ones in the theater.

although i had no real expectations for this movie beyond Mackenyu Hits Things And Is Sad, i believed one of two things would happen: it would be as terrible as it sounded, or it would actually be phenomenal. but no, it was neither bad, nor good, but a secret third thing: it scratched a deep and rabid part of my id.

and by that i mean, it appeared to be a very high budget love letter to glaringly submissive men.

here's my letterboxd review that i wrote in the brief hypomanic episode succeeding my initial viewing:

okay so first and most importantly, this scene made me actually scream:

it's a joke line, sure, but 1) he definitely means it, and 2) he immediately calls her "princess," which if you've ever read my fic, you'll know that that's a one-hit KO for me.

(putting this under a cut because it's already long)

you see how athena is framed above seiya? that is one of approximately 1000 shots where this occurs. to every male character. at one point, mackenyu perches gingerly on the back of athena's motorcycle. in fact the only male character who attempts to be dominant aggressive and toxically masculine becomes the punching bag of the film.

in the beginning, seiya is in a cage match where people are getting angry at him for "dancing," which means he doesn't fight so much as avoids getting hit and looks pretty doing it. a solid third of the movie involves a very large lady beating the crap out of him. the premise of the film is getting him to devote his entire life to a goddess and obey protect her at all costs.

i'm probably the only one who watched this movie and was like, hmm is this kink coded? am i insane for seeing this? usually when i think of kink coding i think of quentin tarantino's foot fetish, these long gaudy shots of women's feet hanging out of car windows. it's in the imagery and shot composition and power dynamics.

here, the imagery is a lot of kneeling men, the shot compositions repeatedly place the men lower than the women, and the power dynamics are simply that the women have all the power, and the men have a little, as a treat. jean grey is a straight-up femdom, leather and all.

by the end of the climax, seiya is naked, having been stripped of his (magical and very powerful) armor as pre-athena becomes athena and uh, blasts his clothes off in the process. there's probably something to be said there about, you know, literally stripping him of his power.

i think what i find particularly remarkable about this is that the repeated feminization of the male lead is treated as a good thing. a self-actualizing thing. it's the process through which he accepts himself and his destiny. that's the reason i say it's a love letter--i've known a lot of submissive men and many of them really struggle to accept that part of themselves. i had a friend once who was so ashamed of himself--not just that he was submissive, but that submission was an integral part of his identity--that he had a breakdown in my car over it. so i think it's nice seeing a vaguely positive portrayal of finding oneself through (textually) devotion and (subtextually) submission.

god help me, seiya spends the entire film being irritating and bratty. this movie is my personal kryptonite.

don't get me wrong, it's a terrible movie. the writing is awful, the direction is awful, and if it gets a second film, i'll be shocked. it received a 1.9 (out of 5) on letterboxd and a 4.4 (out of 10) on imdb.

but i've also always been a lover of the star wars prequels (and oh boy there's a lot to be said there about submissive men) and so my patience for bad writing is infinite in the face of interesting things happening on a character level. in a world of disneyfied stock plots and bloated marvel franchises, i appreciate when a movie tries to do something different, even if it doesn't do it very well.

anyway, i can't in good conscience recommend it, but i for one plan to watch it at least a hundred more times.

[mbat]

fuck it, have my unnecessarily personal review that i left on letterboxd (i literally only made a letterboxd account like 3 days ago and this is my first and only review ahfhdg)

"i only just finished watching this film about 2 hours ago and for the first while after, i didnt know how to feel. i went into this movie knowing it was a trans metaphor (and that was the only thing i knew), and it definitely was. there were some things i didnt understand until i saw other peoples discussions of it, and some parts i still dont entirely understand, but i think i understand enough.

mind you, i am trans and ive known for years, im just bad at picking up metaphor sometimes. i think it doesnt help that i went into it expecting it to be a very different kind of metaphor because, well... i dont think ive ever seen a trans story like this. the one where they explore someone rejecting their identity and living their life refusing to believe it, even though theyre suffocating to death. i love any trans story (that isnt hateful of course), but they tend to be the same kind. this one wasnt. im glad it wasnt.

for about an hour after i couldnt stop thinking about the final scene, in the birthday room. i hoped i would stop thinking about it eventually, i was trying to move on with my day, but it just wouldnt leave. i rewatched it on youtube and i read the comments, and as i made my own comment i just started sobbing, and i couldnt stop.

that breakdown scene in that birthday room has been how ive felt for so long, but i cant just scream like that. hell, ive felt like that in so many ways that arent even related to my trans identity. just that throat-tearing scream, begging for help, im dying, help me... and then being sorry that i even dared feel that way, and then screaming for my mother. i am so weak when it comes to stories about mothers nowadays, i lost my own mother a few years ago. so hearing that scream hurt.

and of course, the fact that no one acknowledges it. everyone else is frozen, like they arent even there. no one even looked their way for those last few minutes. no one responded. even as they apologized to everyone in sight, no one cared. someone asked if they were okay, but we dont even see them.

my entire life has been me screaming from the inside, but never out. and no one sees it. no one sees me. ive never seen another scene like this ever. it tore into my soul and plastered it into the screen, telling me to look at myself.

im also in a big time of change in my life. im about to go back to school after dropping out, and ive been isolated for 7 years from the world... on the youtube video of the final scene, someone said 'this is what its like going down a path in your life, and then realizing it was the wrong one, and that you wasted years of your life that you will never get back' and that hurt. that hurt so much because it was true. i went down a path that i can never change, and i just want to scream until i cant anymore. i just wanted someone to help me. all i could ever do was help myself.

what an amazing movie. there will always still be time. never forget that there will always still be more time."

[cadmium-free]

Day 2 of 26 with @neopetsdotcom

POISON FOR THE FAIRIES (1986)

Lauren's review (from letterboxd)

First of all this happened to me in real life. Secondly it’s really cool to have a movie that explores the specific flavor of horror of like. Being a child, and not having been in the world long enough to be sure of what is true or not. The world felt more magical to us as children, the boundaries of what is possible had not been filled in yet, the yet unknown world was filled with endless potential. but for these same reasons, it felt equally more terrifying to us too. This movie captures that really well

While watching this, we know that Veronica is lying to Flavia, we as adults know that witches aren’t real, and that Veronica is just a neglected child who has experienced terrible tragedy and is grasping at whatever power she is able to. But you can feel Flavia’s fear just as strongly as if you didn’t know, her mind caught right on the edge between the absurdity of Veronica’s claims and the fact she has been shown just enough evidence that it’s impossible for her to write Veronica off completely. You can feel horror of the toxic friendship she falls deeper and deeper into, the sheer helplessness of the situation. It generates true horror, and completely without any true supernatural elements and little to no violence. With one. Notable exception

Also I have GOT to give a shout out to like, costuming, set design, cinematography, sound design, etc, for genuinely tricking me into thinking this movie was made when it was set (1965) and not when it came out (1986)

Awl's review (from letterboxd)

There is a niche of horror films interested in friendships between young girls, but none tackle it quite so well as Poison for the Fairies. I think these movies often take the stance that something is wrong with one of the girls, or that the act of separating two girls is what leads them to do something terrible. Poison for the Fairies deftly states that little girls are weird. They like to play in the mud and catch frogs just as much as they like to pamper dolls and puppies.

That isn't to say there is nothing deeper going on than weird girls in this film. This is a movie about an absence. Flavia has everything: wealthy parents who adore her, nice toys, a beautiful dog, and love. Veronica's parents are dead, and she is left in benign neglect in her grandmother's home in her nanny's care. She wants terribly, and Flavia has no defence against her. 

And so the pair flit between gentle goofy play and Veronica asserting power over her new friend. She is full of tales of witches and fairies from her nanny and she aspires to the power the figure of the witch commands in a world where her classmates mock her. For all her bossy cruelty, she strikes a tragic figure.

And the two are trapped in an insular world separate from adults. The film reinforces this cleverly by making the adults a faceless authority. They are abstracted into rules and love by filming them from behind or their faces cut out of frame. We only see the faces of dead adults or the terrifying visage of the old witch.

This all worked for me because I've been in these childhood friendships. I've been taken in by the charm of a domineering friend and then rushed home terrified at the ghost stories other little girls told me. Toys they covet demanded from me between making witch brews in the mud. These friendships hurt in ways you're too young to know how to deal with yet. But each side of that relationship is struggling to find their own place in the world.

In the end, only one girl holds herself as a witch, familiar cradled in her arms, and cruel deeds laid bare.

[the-holy-ghosted]

*putting on a moustache and sunglasses*

So like what’s the deal with ghosted what’s that about

now see the deal with Ghosted is that it's not what happens within the events of the film that captivates me so much, though don't get me wrong i love this film to bits, but rather, it's the idea of what happens after the whole thing that makes me FUCKING NUTS

because the whole thing is relatively cut and dry in the sense that we don't have to guess about what happened before and we don't have to guess about how everybody is feeling in the present. we know (MOST) important characters backgrounds and what they're doing at Falkhill and slowly revealing Paul's context was pretty interesting if not a little abrupt at the end there but its the very last scene of this film down to the very frame that flips the whole hour and a half you just watched over on its head and prevents me from getting a good night's sleep because i can't stop thinking about it

ELABORATING WITH A LOT OF SPOILERS UNDER THIS

explaining the plot of this movie is hard without sounding like im writing a pretentious review and not just talking out of my ass on tumblr but for my followers who haven't watched this movie and dont care enough to: Ghosted (2011) is set in a british prison in which Jack (John Lynch) is a long time prisoner who's wife just dumped him apparently on the anniversary of their sons death (tough break) and is being advised by his friend and cellmate Ahmed (Art Malik) (who does NOT get HALF as much screen-time or plot relevance as he DESERVES,) to find something to put his mind to and be proud of outside of his failures Paul (Martin Compston) is a prisoner who was just transferred out of a Young Offenders prison AS FAR AS WE'RE TOLD... though its noticeable from the beginning that hes not a very good liar and his story is suspicious at best Clay (Craig Parkinson) is kindof The Guy of their prison wing whos dealing drugs to other prisoners and assumes the position of authority over everybody else, though compared to other inmates with bigger cliques, his foundations are shaky. the description of this film on letterboxd calls him "the wing beast" and i have never cried laughing so hard reading something in my life

Clay and Jack both hone in on Paul immediately for different reasons. Jack, after his pep talk with Ahmed, sees Paul as a source of "a little self belief, something to be proud of", but Clay scoops him under his wing for being relatively young and impressionable. This puts Jack and Clay at odds with each other. after some plot, Paul gets into very big trouble with Clay and after An Incident is promptly plopped into Jacks hands, who had requested Paul move into his cell earlier but didn't have a good enough excuse for it. Well You've Got A Bloody Good Reason Now ect ect

Jack and Paul buddy up immediately and its noticable that Paul is sort of filling in the empty space where a son would be for Jack, however we discover that Paul has been lying about his past to everybody, including Jack. he lied about his family and he lied about having only just been transferred from Y.O. and hadn't been telling the whole truth about his sentence. what the truth ends up being, in a nutshell, is that Paul is accidentally responsible for the death of Jack's son, having been the one who started the house fire he died in (we were never even told that Jack's son died in a house fire before this, we are only told this in Paul's flashback at the end of the movie and are supposed to act, like, surprised?? whatever). consequentially, Jack flips his lid and prompts my personal favorite scene in this film in which he beats the living shit out of Paul with his bare hands and immediately regrets it the second the adrenaline wears off, hitting an alarm button within the cell that alerts the guards.

the guards whisk him away and he is put in solitary confinement, which we find out was actually the first sequence of the film where hes shown with an absurdly long beard, and considering every other fucking scene he's in is of him shaving his face, i assume this is to show just how long he's been kept in solitary confinement, which quite honestly was kindof exciting to realize at the end of the film.

and then. the end scene.

after solitary, Jack is put in cuffs and brought to see Paul who looked Extremely Dead after Jack had him, but hes not dead! just almost dead. Jack is sat next to him and tries to apologize but starts to cry, reaching out a hand to hold Paul's but retracting it regretfully. Paul, having looked unconscious not five seconds before, moves his hand to place it over Jack's...

and then the movie ends. and i am left writhing on my floor in anguish BUT NOT BEFORE I EXPLAIN TO YOU THAT THIS

THIS is what the deal is with Ghosted

the pathetic gestures of "im sorry" and "its okay" are what kill me. sorry is nowhere near enough to justify anything that EITHER of them did, NOR should they be forgiven. AND YET.

and what gets my gears going is the thought of what everything looks like AFTER this scene. after they've bonded so close and after Jack already thought that Paul stopped lying to him, thinking that he could protect Paul from Clay now... after they started to fill the spaces for people they were missing in their lives... and after they've RUINED each others lives. They Have Ruined Each Others Lives and yet Paul probably would have had to DELIBERATELY ASK for them to bring Jack to see him because he just BEAT Paul within an INCH of his life and would NOT !! have brought Jack to see him upon Jack's own request!! Paul would have wanted to see him too!! after all this what does their relationship look like now... the image of father and son has been all but shattered in each other's eyes, one can assume, but are they still close... does the guilt and responsibility drift them apart or does it pull them inseparably together? Ahmed tells Jack that "there is no such thing as coincidence, only fate" but what does their fate look like... does it end here or does it mean that they're together indefinitely? the end of this film swings the door wide open and i think about it. way too often. unacceptably often, even.

all in all theres no reason that this should be my favorite film but it is. if nothing else it's made me look into the other actors involved and branch out with a to-watch list as long as my arm that will only get longer once i branch out from there. is it the perfect movie? no this film is mediocre at best. have i made a number of my friends sit down and watch it and listen to me yell incoherently about it? of course i have.

[t-800]

me if writing letterboxd reviews no one cares about was a job 💸

[okaystoptellingmetomakeanaccount]

Man you know what i would really want. Kind of like a site that could compare all duck media (or hell, all disney media would be cool too) and how much people like them. Like put the ducktales finale against a barks 10 pager and see which one people prefer, which one has a higher score. If the entire top 100 would be dominated by comics or if a few animated things would slip in too.

And you cant like compare imdb scores to inducks scores because 1 inducks has a weird rating system, and 2 the people voting are completely different audiences. It’s never gonna be a fair logical comparison. But imagine if there was like a site where they had both and where everyone was equally fan of everything and then they would fairly vote i just want to knowww.

Ratings are cool, but cross media ratings are even cooler. How does episode 3 of the this duckburg life podcast/audioplay compare to Paperino skipper from Giorgio Pezzin. I need to know. Has chapter 5 of totem decapitato a higher rating than the first ever episode of dt87? Do people like the ducktales lost lamp movie more than the solving mysteries and rewriting history book? Has the first story of PKNA more historical significance to the fans than Donalds first ever appearance in general? Will they go as far as rate Evroniani higher than The wise little hen?

These ridiculous questions about things that are impossible to compare but I just want to because it’s fun i need that. Because Duck Avenger: Shadow of venus is completely different from: Mickey Mouse Clubhouse: mickey gets sick (or whatever i dont actually remember any episode titles) or Mickey Donald and Goofy go on a roadtrip (whatever that cartoon was with the trailer its a fun one) but they’re somehow also all the same ‘mickey and friends’ franchise. I just think it’s interesting and i will probably now not rest until these questions are answered oh help

How does the Scrooge McDuck and money cartoon compare to the kingdom hearts manga? Is Donald Duck going quackers better than episode 7 season 1 of darkwing duck? Is Donalds appearance in who framed roger rabbit better than his orange juice? Is the Toontown in Disneyland Epcot a better experience than The Dark Side from MMMM? Would you rather be stuck in a room for an hour with only a donald duck colouring book from the zeeman or disney crossy road? Do the fans like the donald duck clock more than an extremely goofy movie? Is the Scrooge McDuck boardgame a better experience than that Donald Duck’s birthday childrens book? Did people get more enjoyment out of Sora’s super smash bros ultimate trailer or the Daisy Duck lego brickhead?? IS THAT BOOTLEG DONALD DUCK UMBRELLA FROM CHINA I GOT AS A KID BETTER OR THIS YOUTUBE VIDEO I WATCHED YESTERDAY ABOUT MICKEY MOUSE COPYRIGHT??? (both those last two things did not happen to me im sorry)

going a bit far there but thats because the general idea without all of the insanity just seems so incredibly fun to me. Even the brickhead and trailer comparison. Yknow what who cares about unfair voting. Just compile all the normal unweighted inducks scores, all imdb and letterboxd and rotten tomatoes and whatever more exists ratings, amazon reviews, to videogame ratings that you always see on wikipedia and just put them all together and see what the result is and also implement the inducks ratings because its a very easy and handy rating system and let people rate on the site on too of that.

Okay no dont do that that would be stupid but like all the cartoons and comics and audio things and games and boardgames and books and maybe not boardgames but everything that is a story and see which stories people like the most i just think that would be so cool.

I dont think im making sense i think Im going to bed now lmfao.

[meloncolliemovies]

THE SUBSTANCE (2024)

Director: Coralie Fargeat

Demi Moore (Elisabeth Sparkle), Margaret Qualley (Sue)

"Take care of yourself."

4.5/5

REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS

TW// BODY HORROR, GENDER DYSPHORIA, NEEDLES, PROFANITY

Ok- I know what you're all thinking. "This is a queer film blog, The Substance isn't queer!" and let me state this- nothing can sum up the feeling of gender dysphoria more than some good uncomfortable body horror.

The Substance is almost like what Poor Things wanted to be (I am uploading my Poor Things review oh so very soon). I came out of the cinema at exactly 5:30pm with a feeling in my body which can only be described as euphoric disgust. From start to finish, Fargeat set out to do something phenomenal, and that is what she did.

I think my best springboard for this review would be the sound. Fargeat opens this film with an egg, injected with brat green "substance" and I was immediately disgusted. We hear everything. The visceral sound of everything in this film, needles, heels, eyes, and of course a body being morphed into a horrific pile of skin and bones, accompanies a score from Raffertie like no other. The score is punchy, funky, and dark, and it's even got song names like "Blood, More Blood". I'm sure you could figure out the plot of this film from song titles alone. But my favourite part, the "2001, A Space Odyssey" needle drop. It reminds viewers of who Fargeat is- she's asserting a genre which Kubrick couldn't even begin to create, in my opinion. That needle drop sums it all up, this hope for filmmaking, this new invention which made me think "we are so fucking back".

The Kubrick references in this film got a cinephile like me excited for horror again. My favourite little reference was the classic hallway from "The Shining"- the mise-en-scene of the "Hall of Fame" which Elisabeth (Demi Moore) once walked down, and now Sue (Margaret Qualley), was very similar to the classic horror film, and it also represented the reminder of blood- I mean, what is a film without blood? This film was not short of it. It made me question my body as an afab person, how much blood really is in me? This film felt like my period. My body being destroyed and the insecurity which comes with it. I think that many a body dysmorphic person can relate to this feeling. Now, I'm not saying that Elisabeth is trans, but I am saying that Fargeat has captured an experience, maybe purely by accident, of the negative feelings that come with womanhood as someone who was born differently from it.

Which leads me on to talk about performance, Dennis Quaid as the disgusting, exaggerated male he is. "Girls look prettier when they smile", is unforgettable. The line delivered at the perfect point, as if it is a punchline to the whole film, and we watch as his "beautiful creation" becomes a monster worth shooting, one who smiles for nothing. On the topic of, "we are so fucking back", Demi Moore was perfect for her role because she is Elisabeth, an unfortunately fading star, and this role reminds viewers, that this is Demi Moore after all, and she can act. I love anything with Margaret Qualley in it, she's fucking fantastic.

My only criticism about this film is really quite silly, but I think it is slightly obvious. I was trying to find deeper and different meanings to it, because I wanted to think more, but it didn't require me to think more, which was enjoyable except when I found myself thinking about heroin, motherhood and all sorts of stuff which Fargeat probably didn't even think about during the creation of this film

Summing up this review, I think this film is everything it needs to be. It's here, it's new, it's satirical and completely unrealistic and it is down right disgusting. Fargeat is bringing back films in a big way, and I can't wait to see her next.

If you liked my review my letterboxd is @1nd1g0o, I review on there too.