#let murphy rest 2020 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nautiscarader · 3 years

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2020 in animation - recap

So, 2020.

Yeah, I have to say I’m not entirely satisfied. Would not recommend, 1 star.

But I would be willing to bump it to 1.5, if only because of one factor: the animation.

Because I have to say, this was the best animated end of the world so far! And if there was something that kept our spirits up, it was the cartoon industry!

Just like last year, I should preface this by saying that this is highly subjective selection. Even when one is confined to their Hobbit holes for better part of the year because of *waves hands* everything around,

day still only has 24 hours, so I have missed a few shows. (I should also apologise for omitting a few major ones last year, like Milo Murphy’s Law S2, Ducktales, or She-Ra. This is why I started keeping a track this year). I’m sure I will catch up with those I missed this year some time in the future, but for now, let’s see what this year has gifted us with.

And right from the start, January opens the race with very interesting propositions. We were still riding on an incredibly high wave from last year, with Infinity Train season 2.

This one focused on Tulip’s mirror, and pushed the season towards a much darker and complex story, diving deep into one’s personal journey and identity. There were tears, math, deer, and cops being murdered. Brutally.

t was followed by two newcomers: The Owl House and first season of Kipo and The Age of the Wonderbeast. Both of them would dominate first half of the year, with The Owl House’s traditional, week-to-week airings, and Kipo's seasons appearing in June and October.

The Owl House, a strong contender in "What will be the Next Gravity Falls?" contest, invited us to a world full of magic, mystery, elongated owl demons and some dark secrets. It has also created a milestone for Disney, introducing an LGBT couple with characters of bisexual Luz Noceda and lesbian Amity Blight. Their Grom dance has risen to the top of my animates scenes, polling very closely to the unforgettable Kataango.

On the other hand, Kipo has taken us to the post-apocalyptic world filled with mutant animals, revealing that despite the end of the world, our old vices and animosities have survived in underground burrows, and we have infected the overworld of giant doggos and suit-wearing frogs with them.

Kipo did not pull any punches regarding commentary about our society, at the same time giving us hope in the form of the main protagonist, who was able to spread friendship and understanding amongst the mutes, as well as the humans that had to survive. And in the world that we have found ourselves in, it was a pretty darn good lesson.

February would bring end to two seasons of airing cartoons, Big Hero Six season 2 and Miraculous season 3, as well as another newcomer that won the hearts of fans: Glitch Techs, with its "second" season arriving in August. And while in my opinion he show wasn't as good as the other two new titles, I am clearly in minority, as the show about Ghostbuters-like team of game console technicians gained huge popularity... though not enough to keep the show afloat. As of writing this, it is currently in limbo, which is a shame, as the second set of 10 episodes finally added some much needed ongoing story.

in March, another show from last year ended - Steven Universe Future. As we have expected, it tackled slightly more mature themes, showing how much Steven needed that therapy we have wished him, telling an important tale of finding one's worth and one's self. its ending might not have been as explosive as those of the original show, or the movie, but it left Steven’s story as open as an open road, and deep in our hearts, we all knew it would look like this.

March was also the time when majority of western world caught the coronavirus, and that caused quite a turmoil with the movie and animation industry. One of the first victim of changed schedule was Disney's Onward, which was released on-line on Disney+ quickly after its theatrical release.

I have mixed feelings towards “Onward”. For such interesting promise, I think it made a few questionable and down right boring turns, though the unorthodox message at the end of it was its strongest point, and it was one I haven’t seen in a while, so it was worth watching just for that.

April was relatively quiet (aside from more end of the world stuff); brought us third season of Ducktales that spread throughout the year, while May gave us final, fifth season of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power.

To my eternal shame, I missed on this show when it premiered, and due to the lockdown, I binge-watched the previous four right in time for powerful and explosive season 5. And even though Catra and Adora finally gave us exactly what we needed, some fans felt slightly unsatisfied, calling for a movie, like the Steven Universe one to be made. And I’d be all for it, the rest of universe needs saving from the Horde! Also, cats in space - hilarious.

May also revealed a new player on the streaming field: HBO Max, who surprised us with new Looney Tunes Cartoons, much more in the spirit of the legendary originals than the often-criticised Looney Tunes Show from 2011-2014. And in my opinion, it did; one could feel the same fluidity in animation, dedication to slapstick, and synchronisation with music than in the very first cartoons with Bugs and Daffy.

HBO Max would, however, return in June with first of series of Adventure Time original movies called "Distant Lands". The first centred around BMO, with second one - Obsidian giving us a glimpse into Bonnibel and Marceline's lives.

Distant Lands allowed people to revisit the odd, odd world of Ooo and learn about its colourful inhabitants, taking turns to seeing their past and the future, an, as usual, showing us that post-apocalyptic world can teach us valuable and meaningful lessons.

Just in time for full lockdown in our burrows, aforementioned Kipo season 2 premiered in June, together with another cartoon movie, this time featuring We Bare Bears. While their movie wasn't anything to write songs about, it was exactly like the show, providing some wholesome content right when we needed it.

And just in case you needed more wholesome adventures, Craig of the Creek's second season ended, and its third season began, reminding us of HOW COOL LIFE WAS WHEN OUTERNET WASN’T SCARY AND WE COULD STILL WALK OUTSIDE FOR FUN AND NOT TO HUNT TOILET PAPER.

Just like last year, July was not dogs' days, but frogs'. Amphibia season 2 started raining on our heads, but unlike last year, its schedule wasn't a daily one, spreading the episodes throughout the Summer and early Autumn, with its second part arriving in February of 2021. There were more roadtrips, more mysteries and MORE MARCY.

August was equally strong: aforementioned Glitch Techs "season 2" premiered, offering better and more plot-heavy episodes than the first ten episodes. Unfortunately, the show's future is unclear; the uneven divide of plot between the seasons probably contributed to the show not being renewed. 10 new episodes apparently are written, but await in sleep mode, until Nickelodeon remembers about it.

HBO MAX picked up Infinity Train for its third season, after being derailed by Cartoon Network. And if you thought that killing a mirror cop was shocking... then this season has pushed the limit of what can be shown in modern children's cartoon to a frightening degree. The schedule was once again, weirder, with first five episodes airing on the day of the premiere, ending with a cliffhanger (literally) that only contributed to the shock factor and made us wait anxiously for its conclusion. It was bold, it was dark, it was memorable.

And just like Glitch Techs, Infinity Train waits on a side track, unsure if it will be picked up, or will it be abandoned and left as a canvas for graffiti artists.

However, to end the Summer, a truly amazing TV movie has arrived on Disney Plus, where we came back to good, old Danville and could witness Candace against the universe. The new Phineas and Ferb movie brought back the glorious memories of this fantastic show, with the same humour, writing, abundance of catchy songs and a surprisingly deep moral.

In September we have seen the start of Big Hero 6 season 3 and a odd change of format. Instead of standalone 22-minute episodes, the show now consists of two 11-minute segments. In opinion of many, this weakened the stories, forcing them to be more comedy-oriented, and shortening the potential emotional drama. Still, it gave us funny, short stories, but they did clash with the two previous season, not to mention the movie.

However, if that wasn't up to your taste, Ducktales season 3 also started airing, and continued its first part up until December with more action- and plot-driven episodes, including the Darkwing Duck crossover, serving as a pilot of the spin-off.

Later in December fans have learned that Season 3 will be its last, which broke the hearts of many duck fans; however, it seems that the season has been written as the last one in mind, and the news of the ending was known to the creators, which gives us hope for a kick-ass finale somewhere in 2021.

Miraculous New York, telling arguably one of the most mature storylines, opened the "Heroez" world to some new characters and new opportunities, with two more specials, taking place in Shanghai and Brazil, meant to air somewhere next year. AND I DO HOPE WE WILL SEE MORE LOCAL FOOD VENDOR SUPERHEROES LIKE HOT DOG DAN.

October was the month of two season 3's: Carmen Sandiego and Kipo. In case of Carmen, as it is usual with Netflix, the "season" was only a half-one, with just a handful standalone episodes, and just a dash of more ongoing plot.

For Kipo, however, season 3 was the end, and what a glorious one it was. Fans were saddened to learn of it, but Kipo was always imagined as a 3-part story, and it showed. The finale proved more than satisfying ending to the plot, elevating Kipo to one of the smartest cartoon characters we should all try to aspire to.

In November, Distant Lands: Obsidian aired, focusing on everyone’s favourite candy/vampire couple, and the long and complicated love between Bonnibel and Marceline. And as usual, it showed us that relationships are not always as straightforward as we would like them to be, but with enough music and teamwork, no enemy is big enough.

For the next new show, I’ve waited with the most amount of excitement and anxiety. Because while I was completely fine with other reboots and re-imaginings to take creative takes, new Animaniacs, (airing on Hulu) had to be perfect and had to be the lightning that struck twice.

And sadly... it wasn’t. It was still good, but some people criticised (incorrectly imho) the amount of political topics, while I mourned almost total cast-ration of additional characters, aside from Pinky and the Brain. This truly weakened the possibilities it could have had. It was still very good, but you can feel that some of the original charm was lost, due to these odd, odd limitations.

December brought us a new original Apple TV movie, Wolfwalkers. A beautifully animated folk tale of friendship and social divides, and how short-sight can cause the collapse of both arguing sides, reminding me very much of the intelligence and heart of original “How to Train Your Dragon”.

We’ve had to wait two years for the return of arguably one of the most wholesome shows out there: Hilda. Second season dived into deeper mysteries that permeate the rich and colourful troll-ridden land, we saw the return of some familiar characters, and introduced a whole new storyline, that ended with a surprising cliffhanger. Still as wholesome, but now with a tiny bit of Police incompetence. Also Twig, lots of Twig.

Just like Onward, Pixar’s highly anticipated Soul aired on Disney+, telling a very mature story about finding one’s purpose in life, what that purpose actually means, and whether it exists at all. Beautifully animated, with fantastic soundtrack, it was a stunning tribute to creativity, and it never dumbed down its profound, open message about following your dream.

And just if you thought that Soul was going to be 2020′s last note (pun very much intended), right before the year ended, DC Super Hero Girls concluded its first season on a rather anti-climactic two-parter. That being said, the season, running from March of last year, was packed with short, bite-sized, funny stories, taking interesting spins on existing comic book characters. For a comic book noob like me, it was perfectly fine, and I can’t wait for the second season next year.

And so, we have reached the series finale of humanity.

2020 ends in just under a day. What will 2021 bring us? I do not know, and if the animated shows of this year have taught me anything, is that the future is an always open book, full of worries and challenges, but also opportunities and possibilities.

...

And in reality I was too lazy to check any news sites about upcoming projects.

#infinity train #glitch techs #amphibia #kipo and the age of wonderbeasts #animaniacs #carmen sandiego #hilda #DuckTales #big hero 6 #distant lands #dc super hero girls #Miraculous Ladybug #spop #The Owl House

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pythonees · 4 years

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Public — J.Murphy

POSTED: October 4th, 2020

WORD COUNT: 3,226

WARNINGS: Smutty

A/N: Part 2 of 11 (maybe) of Kinktober. Lets hope I don’t break this post like I did the last one. Also, this one is long af, so sorry. Or your welcome, whatever floats your boat.

The camp was loud, louder and more lively than their first day on the ground.

After Bellamy and Murphy returned from their rescue mission with the dead mountain lion, spirits were high, even though those with wristbands had to remove them to eat. The evening's excitement made it easy to forget Jasper, half-dead in the drop-ship. His moans of pain were drowned out by the partying teens, the sound of the makeshift drums carrying over their small clearing.

Y/N sits off to the side, watching as the line of people and the meat portions slowly go down. Her stomach growls as the wind changes, wafting the smell of roasted meat right at her. Her wrist band sits heavy on her wrist, the only thing keeping her from going over to get herself some food.

Sitting around the bonfire are Bellamy and three boys from his "army," split up into two groups to get through the mass of teens faster. From where Y/N is sitting, she can only see Murphy and Mbege, the former prying wristbands off in record time without a care for the person's well being.

Despite the rough treatment, Y/N can't help but admire the ease of his movements. They were swift, fluid motions, each wrist band taken off effortlessly even with people flinching and squirming away from him.

When Y/N looks away from the angry teen and to the line, she is surprised to see barely anyone left. Y/N fingers the edge of her wrist band, eyes darting up to watch The Ark, the huge hunk of metal looking like a star from on the ground. She watches it for a moment longer before making up her mind, pushing herself off of the ground with a groan.

The bonfire wasn't far from where she made up her tiny little camp, though it feels like it takes ages before she's standing in front of Murphy. He looks up at her silently, eyes dropping down to her wrist when he notices her fidgeting with it.

"Well, come on then. I don't have all night." Murphy says, though his words don't come out as harsh as Y/N was expecting, as she was used to hearing for him. The stump he gestures to is tall enough that Y/N doesn't have to bend over much to rest her arm on it. Its rough, bits of wood cutting into her skin when she moves.

When Murphy doesn't try to take the wristband off, Y/N looks up to find him frowning down at her hand. Confused, Y/N follows his line of sight, her hand shaking slightly.

"Sorry, I uh — I don't do well with pain," Y/N mutters, clenching her fist tightly to try and get the shaking under control. Thankfully when she opens her hand back up, it's no longer shaking, though when she looks back to a still unmoving Murphy, he's now frowning at her, "It's okay, I'll be fine."

Murphy looks unconvinced, though holds down her arm with a shrug. He's surprisingly gentle and deliberate with his movements. Y/N would have called it tender, but it felt weird to describe him that way. He brings the long piece of mettle up slowly, making a show of it as he positions it under the wristband. Again he hesitates, and Y/N is surprised to see genuine concern on his face when she looks back up at him.

Y/N gets lost in the blue of his eyes, feels her face get hot under the intensity of his stare. One of the guys calls for Murphy to hurry up, though he doesn't turn to acknowledge them. "Try not to move," Murphy mutters, and Y/N barely has enough time to nod before he's prying the metal wristband off faster than she could blink. It falls to her feet, rolling down the pile of bands and into the fire.

"It's going to bruise," Murphy says as he chucks the metal pole off to the side. Gently, Y/N pulls her arm free from his hold, turning over her wrist to examine the small streams of blood. It's nothing bad, but her wrist aches more than she thought it would, even with his gentle treatment, "Here."

Y/N looks up in surprise, coming face to face with the last piece of meat.

Bellamy calls for Murphy again, so Y/N takes the stick quickly, "Thank you."

Murphy gives her a barely-there nod, the corner of his mouth ticking up into the start of a smile before he turns away, stalking over to the group of boys waiting for him at the edge of the woods. He takes the torch Bellamy offers to him, and they disappear into the woods.

Y/N lets out a groan, stretching her arms up as far as they can go. With her stomach full for the first time since landing on the ground, Y/N can't help but notice the little, insignificant things that she overlooked before. Her clothes are filthy, covered in dirt and grime from when she went out to collect wood earlier that day.

Every inch of her skin feels dirty and itchy, and Y/N knows that she was never going to fall asleep since she noticed the state she was in. Y/N glances towards the surrounding forest, in the general direction of the river she came across earlier that day. Thankfully it wasn't that far, and from what she could tell, she was the only one that had come across it, so there was no fear of anyone discovering her.

Grabbing her only change of clothes, made of thin, itchy material, Y/N rushes over to the fire to grab a torch to help light her way. Nobody questions Y/N when she leaves and Y/N breathes a sigh of relief once she far enough away that the sounds from camp become background noise.

Y/N walks in the river's general direction, listening for running water as she carefully makes her way deeper into the dark woods. Holding her torch out in front of her, Y/N spots a familiar log and smiles proudly to herself, a small pep in her stem as she turns left. After nearly a minute of hiking, she can finally hear it, can nearly feel her skin get cleaner as the trees break away to reveal the shining, shallow water.

The river is tiny, if it could even be considered a river at all, with a small waterfall on her right that causes the water to spray up in a cool-mist around the area. The water slowly leads to a drop off to her left, another waterfall that's blocked by several large rocks, causing the water to move so slowly it's like it was barely moving at all.

Y/N quickly sheds out of her clothes, crouched at the river's edge in just her underwear as she furiously scrubbed her clothes clean. Her torch is sticking out of the ground next to her, flames dancing around, lighting up the water enough to see the smooth rocks lining the riverbed.

Her coat and shirt are the cleanest, so they're quickly washed and set aside on a nearby rock to dry. Y/N's pants, on the other hand, are a different story.

During her first day on the ground, Y/N spent her time exploring all the wildlife, taking in the plants she had never seen while helping her family in the Farming station. Now, days later, Y/N wished she was more careful with the little clothes she had, absently fingering at a small tear from a tree branch she had noticed a second too late.

"What're you doing?" Y/N takes in a gasp of air, choking slightly as she slaps a hand over her pounding heart. She looks over her shoulder to find Murphy standing behind her, torch held out in front of him. His eyes trace over her bare skin, and Y/N can't help but curl into herself slightly, face heating up under his stare.

"Washing my clothes," Y/N holds up her dripping pants as proof, then gestures to the still wet clothes drying next to her.

"It's not safe out here alone," Murphy says, though he doesn't seem to be afraid in the slightest, leaning casually against a tree as he watches her. He looks around the area pointedly, before settling his gaze back on her.

"I didn't want to bother anybody."

"Is that why you waited 'till everyone was gone before you got your wristband taken off?" The question throws her off guard, and she gapes up at him in surprise.

"What..?"

"I saw you watching us." Murphy pushes away from the tree with a shrug, walking over to a nearby rock to sit on, "Is that the last of what you're washing?"

"Was gonna bathe too," Y/N mumbles, watching Murphy curiously.

Murphy's face is unreadable as he stares silently at her, brushing his nose with a sniff as he thinks to himself. Then he gives her a nod, digging the end of his torch into the ground like hers, "Alright then, I'll wait."

"You really don't have to," Y/N rushes to say, noticing the deep bags under his eyes for the first time. Murphy doesn't respond, just gestures towards the water in front of her. He takes out his homemade knife, twirling it around in his hand, turning away from Y/N just enough to give the illusion of privacy while still keeping an eye on her.

Not wanting to keep Murphy out any later, Y/N scrubs her pants clean with newfound energy. When the water no longer streams brown, Y/N wrings out as much water as possible, watching the water ripple away while she drapes the pants next to her other clothes.

Kneeling in front of the river in just her underwear, Y/N takes a chance to look over at Murphy. He's staring intently down at his knife, head tilted away from Y/N.

It takes a moment for Y/N to realise that he was trying to giver her privacy while still looking out for her, and she can't help the warm smile that crosses her face at the discovery. Quickly, Y/N pushes her underwear down her legs, ripping her sports bra off as well.

The cold night air makes Y/N shiver, but with Murphy waiting for her, Y/N doesn't have time to get used to the cold, quickly slipping into the dark water before he could catch an eyeful. The water wasn't as cool as she thought it would be, though it's much deeper, a startled gasp from her as the water comes to rest just above the swell of her breasts.

"You okay?" Murphy asks, pushing up from the rock in case something was wrong.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay. The water was just a bit cold, sorry," Y/N says, dropping down further into the water so that only her head could be seen, "shit."

"What?"

"My bag," Y/N groans, gesturing to where she left it. It's on the other side of the rock, far enough away that she would surely flash Murphy if she tried to grab it, "I forgot my soap in it."

Murphy turns to where she gestured, spotting the bag set aside neatly next to her drying clothes. The bag is the same as the one he got, so he goes into the same pocket he knows his is in.

The bottle of hair and body wash is tiny, probably only enough to get one or two washes out of it. Murphy unscrews the cap, dropping it into the still open pocket of her bag.

"Thank you," Y/N reaches her hand up for her soap, swimming over to the edge of the water.

Murphy shakes his head at her, walking the short distance to kneel in front of Y/N, "Turn around."

"What..?"

"I'll do it, turn around." He's already squeezing some of the soap into his hand. With a sigh Y/N turns around, pushing her hair behind her shoulder.

Murphy dips his hand into the water, quickly rubbing his hands together to foam up the soap as much as possible. When his hand first touches her head Y/N jumps, water sloshing around her. Murphy's hands freeze the second it happens, though he slowly moves his fingers when Y/N doesn't make a move to get away from him.

The two of them sit there silently, the calming sounds of the forest washing over them in a calming blanket. Murphy's fingers work diligently through Y/N's hair, rubbing at her scalp to try and get the soap through as much of her hair as possible.

With every pass of his fingers, Y/N's head falls further back, the weight of it resting in Murphy's hands. Murphy chuckles under his breath, guiding her head back to rest against his knees. His fingers rub tight circles into her scalp, drawing breathy sounds from Y/N.

The dim light from Y/N's torch illuminates the water enough that Murphy can make out the curves of Y/N's body. "What's wrong with you?"

"Excuse me?" Y/N says, turning her head slightly to see his face.

"Nobody in camp can stand to be around me, but here you are, naked in a river with my hands inches away from your neck."

"If you were going to do anything to me, you would have done it when you first found me here," Y/N mumbles, pushing herself up and around to face Murphy, "But you won't. You're not a bad person."

Shadows dance along Murphy's face, making the already hard, guarded look on his face look even more threatening. Y/N wrests her arms on the ground in front of his legs, skin just nearly brushing against the rough fabric of his pants.

"Why, do you want me to be scared of you?"

"No, that's not-" Murphy cuts himself off with a shake of his head, face contorted in pain, "Why are you the only one?"

Vulnerable is not something Y/N though she would associate with Murphy, but that's all she can see when she looks up at him. He still looks angery, eyes watching her wearily as if waiting for an attack, but his entire body sags with his pain.

Taking a chance, Y/N pushes herself out of the water to bring their faces closer together, water dripping off of her exposed breasts and onto his pants. Murphy leans away from her as if shocked, eyes flicking down to her exposed skin before darting back up to her face, "What are you doing?"

Y/N says nothing, climbing further out of the water and into his lap. Murphy's eyes are wide, his hands hovering in the air. He's got his eyes trained on Y/N's face, trying not to look at the naked body on top of him.

"Y/N-" Murphy tries again, though cuts him-self off as Y/N hands gently cradle his face. His eyes flutter shut when Y/N's thumbs caress his high cheekbones, head leaning into her left hand just slightly. His hands settle high on her hips, though the touch is barely there, easy to break out of if Y/N wanted.

They stay like that until Y/N's skin is dry, and the shitty soap starts to itch her scalp. When she moves her hands away from Murphy's face, his eyes immediately snap open, the softness replaced by a hard, guarded look once more, as if waiting for her to make it into a joke, some kind of attack.

His pants stick uncomfortably to her skin, soaked through from where she was sitting on him. Murphy seems to notice at the same time, wiggling his legs around in his kneeling position.

"Murphy," Y/N starts, though she doesn't really know what she wants to say, looking away from his face and at the wet spots on the front of his shirt. A questioning noise is all she gets in response, "I - Can I kiss you?"

Silence is all that greets her. His hands tighten on her waist slightly, the only indication that he heard her at all. After a couple seconds pass without a response, Y/N takes a chance to look up at his face.

His face is flushed dark red, though he doesn't look disgusted by her question. When their eyes meet, he gives her a barely-there nod, but it's all Y/N needs to put her racing heart at ease. Slowly Y/N brings their faces together, watching as Murphy's eyes flutter shut once more.

The second Y/N brushes their lips together, Murphy surges forward, wrapping his arms around Y/N's waist to pull her flush against his body. The rough denim cuts into Y/N's skin, though she can't find it in herself to care when Murphy brings a hand up to tangle in her hair, tongue pushing past her lips.

"Wait, Murphy mumbles, pulling away from her lips, hooded eyes dark as he stars at lips, "your hair."

"My hair...?"

"The soap, it's all dried up now," Murphy tugs on a matted up strand, drawing a low moan from Y/N. He wraps up more hair into his hand, using it to pull her head back to expose her neck, sucking a mark right under her jaw.

"You should join me." Y/N says, pushing her hands into the open flaps of his jacket. He doesn't fight her, even removing his hands from her body to let it slide off his arms and onto the forest floor. His shirt follows after that, and Y/N leans in to press a quick kiss to his lips before sliding off his lap and into the water.

Y/N quickly submerges herself into the dark water, scrubbing at her hair to get the soap out as fast as possible. When she pops back out, it's to the tail end of Murphy pushing his pants down his legs. Murphy looks up at Y/N, still looking wary, though joins Y/N in the water before he second-guesses himself.

"F-fuck its cold," Murphy stutters, wrapping his arms around himself to try to keep in his warmth.

"You'll get used to it."

"I could, or..." Murphy trails off, closing the distance to wrap Y/N up in his arms, wet skin sliding against each other as he presses their lips firmly together.

His hands roam every possible inch he can reach before settling on her ass, pushing their hips tightly together. With Muphy distracted groping her, she walks them back to a rock hidden in the shadows, spinning them around last second to push Murphy against it, shoving her thigh between his legs to grind up against his growing erection.

Murphy pulls away from her with a moan, eyes full of surprise as he searches Y/N's face. Y/N pushes into his space to connect their lips again, hand trailing down his chest to wrap around his hard cock. Murphy immediately bucks up into her touch, moving one of his own hands between her legs.

"Lets make this fun, shall we?" Murphy moans, dipping down to suck a harsh mark into Y/N neck before pulling away with a wicked smirk on his face, "Whoever finishes first has to do what ever the other wants, whenever they want it."

"Mmm, cant wait to have you between my legs whenever I please," Y/N squeezes her legs around Murphy's hand, body shuddering as he rubs his fingers in tight circles against her.

"We'll see about that," Murphy removes his hand from Y/N to pull one of her legs up on his hip, pressing their bodies tightly together.

Y/N used the rock behind her to push herself up, wrapping her other leg around his waist to help keep her up. He slides into her easily, letting out a low groan as he bottoms out. He gives a teasing thrust into her, both of them moaning at the feeling.

Y/N grabs a fistful of his hair, pulling him away from her neck to see the challenging look in his eyes.

"Can't wait."

#john murphy #john murphy x reader #john murphy smut #The 100 #Ꮺ. my work #Ꮺ. smut warning #Ꮺ. kinktober

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hard-to-be-the-bard · 3 years

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Thomas Shelby X Modern!Reader

I feel like everyone really likes my modern readers haha.

I took this as, a reader who makes a lot of references, and dresses different, but is also sensitive to the fact he’s been in the war

Also i chose the black country museum cause it’s where part of peaky blinders is filmed and it’s actually an open museum, it’s pretty cool, i’d recommend visiting if any of y’all are in england

Also wasn’t asked for in the request but I liked the idea of the reader having a PhD in medicine

Part 2 anyone?

You didn’t know quite how you’d gotten there.

After all, one moment you’d been wandering through the Black Country Museum, taking pictures and talking about how’d it had been used for filming when another second someone had come crashing into you, knocking you to the floor

They reached down to pick you up quickly, an apology falling from their lips, and you heard the Birmingham accent

“It’s no problem, really, I wasn’t looking where I was going” And you looked up, pausing as your eyes met that of Cillian Murphy, and you paused slightly, seeing he was in costume, and when you looked around, worrying you’d stumbled into set, you realised it was suddenly busier than before.

“Are you alright?” He asks, before noticing your clothing, frowning at the way you were dressed.

You turned back to him, taking in a deep breath, nodding slightly

“Yes, yes of course, sorry” You stutter, taking out your phone, when you noticed you had no signal, or WIFI, which was strange considering there was 4G before

The man stared down at the device

“What’s that?” He asked, and you looked up at him frowning

“What this?” You asked, and then you took a step back

“Oh shit” You said, and he looked taken aback, and you turned around

“Oh shit oh no this isn’t good” You mumbled to yourself, realising just what had happened

“Miss, are you sure you’re alright?” He asks, and you spin around

“You’re Thomas Shelby” You mutter, and he pauses.

“Yes, I am, do, do I know you?” He asks, but knowing he would of remembered a face like yours

“I uh, no not exactly” You say, and he looks even more confused, before placing a hand on your shoulder

“Look, you, might of bumped your head when you fell, look my aunt can come take a look at ya, make sure you’re alright?” He asks, and you nod

“Uh yeah, maybe I hit my head” You mutter, and he beckons for you to follow, and shortly you’re at his house, he opens the door, letting you enter and you mumble a thanks

“Polly! Got a girl ‘ere!” He shouts, and a woman’s voice called back

“I don’t care who yer bringin’ to bed Tommy!” She shouts, and he almost falters

“She hit her head” He calls, and a woman appears in the doorway, but you know who it is.

“Well what did ya do to her Tommy?” She asks, and he explains he’d ran into you and she demands you sit down, glancing at your clothes while giving Thomas a look which he nods at, as they both enter the kitchen, and you know they’re discussing you

She soon comes out hold a glass of water, handing it to you

“Here dear, Thomas is never aware of his surroundings, now let’s take a look at that head” She says, and you suddenly blurt out

“I’m from the future” You say, and they both pause

“Well dear, I think you definitely hit your head” She confirms and you shake your head

“I’m serious I- I’m from 2020″ You say, and they watch you

“It’s 1919″ Thomas says watching you, and you nod

“Yes I know it is for you, I-” You say, how are you going to get them to believe them and then you remembered.

“The guns” You splutter out, and Thomas freezes, shooting Polly a look, and he stares at you

“How’d you fuckin’ know about that” He demands, and you told him

“I said, I’m from the future, I know what’s happened and is gonna happen” You say

“Who told you about the guns, who are you working for?” He asks, and you know he doesn’t believe you

“You were going to use them as leverage, but you made a deal with Campbell, and- and your sister, Ada, she’s pregnant, with the communist, Freddie” You say, and Polly freezes, looking at Thomas

“She couldn’t of known that Tommy” She says, and Thomas sits down

“So, you’re from the future” He says, and you nod

“Well then, this is gonna be fucking weird” He says

You spent the rest of the day telling them some basics of what happens in the future, brushing lightly over the subject of WWII, and you can see Tommy tense

“Another one?” He asks, and you nod lightly

“It’s worse this time” You whisper, and he leans back, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

You mention the virus outbreak, telling him about new technology, and things that have changed.

Polly asked about your clothes, and you told her women rarely wear dresses 24/7 and she almost looks surprised when you tell her any woman could vote, regardless of whether they were under 30, like was required in the recently passed 1918 law, as long as you were over 18 anyone was allowed

And not only that, women were allowed men’s jobs.

“Education is free, until 18, then you can go to university” You say, and Thomas looks at you

“You go to university?” He asked, and you nodded

“I’m a doctor” You say, and they both look surprised.

“Dr. y/n l/n” You informed them, and he nodded

“Well, I take it you don’t have anywhere to go?” He asked, and you shook your head as he looked at Polly

“She could be useful, she’s smart too” Polly said, and Thomas nods, before turning to you

“You can stay here” He says, and you let out a sigh of relief, thanking him, and he looked at your clothes

“Ya, can’t wear that, nor can you go round talking about all this future stuff, unles you wanna get locked up, and- men are gonna treat you rude, they don’t know about all this equality stuff” He says, as an afterthought and you nod

“No smart mouthing, no modern clothes, no future talk, standard fit in woman” You say, and he almost looks embarrassed to nod.

“Perfect” Polly says, as she beckons

“Come on dear, lets get you some clothes, don’t worry you can keep those, I should have a dress that’ll fit you” She says, as you get dragged to her room

It’s been a few weeks since you’d arrived. And with no idea of how you can get back, Thomas had allowed you to help with the betting.

After all, you were smart, you could easily, and do maths well.

Polly had a feeling he’d grown soft on you. She could see it in the way he looked at you, protective when a man would comment on your features. And quick to be by your side if you felt uncomfortable

It was common knowledge now that you were Thomas’ property

The comments lessening, men flirting had stopped, and instead gave you nods of the head as you passed.

You were practically part of the family. Polly loved you, so did Ada, making you tell her everything about the future, telling her where’d you’d travelled too as Thomas listened from a chair, pretending to be uninterested. When instead he was watching the way the firelight framed your face as you laughed

He still had nightmares

And one night it was bad.

You’d heard it, and you didn’t want to listen to it. So you’d crept out of bed, pushing open the door to his room, kneeling by the bed as you shook him awake gently

And he shot forward, sweat dripping from his forehead as his eyes went wide, adjusting in the dark until they landed on you

“What are you-” He asked, as you pressed a hand on his

“You were having a nightmare” You whispered, and he apologised

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything” You say, and he shrugged.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, go back to sleep” He said, and you shook your head before hesitating.

“You know... Thomas, sleeping next to some can produce oxytocin, which reduces stress.... And nightmares” You suggest, and wait for his reaction, he looks at you, before shuffling to the side

“If you wanted to get in bed with me you just had to ask” He whispered, trying to make light of the situation as you climbed into his bed, laughing softly

Your head lays on the pillow as he watches you

“You can go to sleep” You say, and he hesitates, sighing as a hand reaches out, pulling at your waist, surprising you as he pulls you into his chest, resting a chin on your head

“I know” He whispers

You fall asleep in his arms, and when he wakes up he smiles at you

“I didn’t have another nightmare”

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby imagines #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x s/o

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flightlessnightingale · 3 years

Text

Police teargas a candlelit vigil to prevent medics from saving a dying man, June 18th, 2020

Dameon Chambers, known as Murphy Ranks, lived less than a block from where George Floyd died. He was a local musician, performing music influenced by his native Jamaica, but the activists of Floyd Square knew him most for his kindness and willingness to help. Counterprotestor Keshawn Archer was known for just the opposite, harassing activists and threatening to kill people for weeks. Community members and protesters alike had reported him to authorities numerous times, but were denied and ignored at each turn. The Minneapolis Police Department refused to act, as a means of holding the city hostage and punishing it for daring to criticize them. The same tactic has been used by New York City Police, where it notably had a negligible difference in crime.

By Juneteenth, our national holiday celebrating emancipation, George Floyd Square was already a sacred and historical site. On that night mothers of those killed by police lead a candlelit vigil for their sons and all victims of police brutality. Archer was once again threatening crowds. Chambers, the man he was, tried to de-escalate, offering to take Archer anywhere he wanted if he would just leave these people alone. Keshawn got into the back of Chambers’ truck and in the midst of a u-turn shot him in the head.

A bystander called 911 and MPD officers rushed in shortly after, teargassing everyone, even the mothers of the dead, during a sacred ceremony in this sacred space. They searched the car and dropped cuntainted evidence into pools of blood on the asphalt. Encircled Mr. Ranks “protecting” him from help as they jabbed medics with billyclubs. 10 minutes later, EMTs arrived. It was too late. Murphy Ranks had bled out on the street in the presence of aid. Aid forced to let him die. The officers lied in the report, stating that there was nothing they could have done. They ruled his death an accident. Reported Ranks had shot himself in the chest multiple times. The only entry wound was on the back of his head.

We know the name of his murderer, there were dozens of witnesses. The MPD refuse to even open an investigation.

I got a report that by July we eventually got a location from the MPD to bring Keshawn Archer to so he could be apprehended. But after locals waited there for hours with a murderer in custody, the police appeared and instead of taking Archer kicked down those holding him, laughing as they jumped in their vehicle and sped off.

Murphy Ranks and those seeking justice for him were not activists but locals. They were not attempting to protest. They were simply trying to be good samaritans. That is what those paid with our tax dollars seek to punish.

People seem to mistake the fighting spirit of activists and marginalized peoples for a violent nature. It is not. It’s not that these individuals and communities wish to fight, but that they are determined to persevere.

Dameon Chambers was a father of four. A musician, a husband, and a well-loved community member. His widow Christine raised $6,608 for to lay him to rest in his homeland. Rest In Peace and Rest In Power, Dameon “Murphy Ranks” Chambers.

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thecaffeinebookwarrior · 3 years

Text

Monster of the Week: The Undead!

From spooky scary skeletons to the original zombies, let’s have a look at the undead who have risen around the globe! This will not include vampires (which I have already compiled a post on) or ghosts (which I plan to compile a post on.)

Note that many of these can best be understood -- or only understood -- in their original cultural context, and I encourage you to continue your research if the lore interests you.

Skeletons/Skeletal Creatures

I am, for whatever reason, enthusiastic about skeletons. There’s a drama to them. They look like they’re perpetually grinning, or grimacing, which makes them oddly relatable. As an artist, I’m always thinking about them as the framework for poses.

More importantly, there’s one in all of us -- sorry if that made you uncomfortable -- which makes them a universally recurring being in global folklore. Let’s take a look at just a few.

Gashadokuro

Literally translating to “rattling skull,” the Gashadokuro is also called Odokoru (giant skull) or simply “the hungry skeleton.” That basically tells you all you need to know.

These big boys (and I mean REALLY big) wander around the countryside at night. Their name derives from the eerie rattling noise produced by their giant skulls. As chill as this may sound, the Gashadokuro is not actually chill at all, and if you come across them they will not hesitate bite your head off. This may seem like a jerk move, since they don’t even have a stomach, but they need the energy of the living in order to sustain themselves.

Like most undead fellas on this list, the Gashadokuro has its origins in the real world. They are thought to originate from the mass-graves, usually of those who died under violent or inhumane circumstances, the supernatural byproduct of countless skeletons.

The first Gashadokuro was thought to have originated after a specific bloody rebellion, in which the bereaved, sorceress daughter of a samurai summoned a giant skeleton from the mass grave of the rebelling soldiers and used it to attack the city. Queen behavior, if you ask me.

Santa Muerte

Image Source

Let’s conclude this portion with my favorite skeleton (excluding Baron Samedi, who doesn’t count, as he is often depicted as a man, or a man with a skull-like face), the goddess/folk saint Santa Muerte.

I still have a lot to learn about the rich folklore surrounding Santa Muerte, but to my understanding, she was born of a combination of pre-Columbian Indigenous religions and Mexican-American folk Catholicism.

Depicted as a skeleton in beautiful, feminine attire and considered to be embodiment of death, Santa Muerte is a healing and protective figure. She is beloved by legions of worshippers, despite condemnations from the Catholic church, and symbolizes a culturally positive relationship with death.

Despite appearances, she is a life-affirming figure.

Zombies and Reanimated Corpses:

The Draugr

When we hear “zombie,” we don’t traditionally think of “Norse mythology.” And yet, the Nordics had their very own zombie mythos, boasting some truly terrifying undead.

It is said that they first emerge from their graves as little more than wisps of smoke and a stench of decay, before adopting a humanoid form that boasts superhuman strength, the ability to change size at will, and the ability to shape-shift.

They aren’t mindless -- far from it. They boast an anthropomorphic intelligence, which makes them all the more dangerous.

As to what drives them from their graves? Jealousy and bitterness towards the living. Relatable, honestly.

The Jiangshi

(Note: I wish they were all as adorable as the one in this gif.)

This Chinese hopping corpse may have evolved into more of a vampire by Western influences, but it was originally far more zombie-like. And a unique zombie at that.

Due to rigor mortis, the Jiangshi hops stiffly from place to place, holding its arms straight out. What’s even more singular is their origin. Try to guess. Go ahead, try. You won’t be able to.

The Jiangshi is what occurs when a bereaved family, lacking the proper funds to send their loved one’s body back to their ancestral land for burial, hires a necromancing corpse driver to reanimate the cadaver and guide it as it hops back to its resting place. They’d travel at night to avoid or minimize decay, either prodded by a stick or to the beat of a drum.

Other ways to create a Jiangshi include improper burial, suicide, or possession.

Looking upon a Jiangshi is said to be bad luck, and presumably very unpleasant. However, the real problem is their insatiable appetite.

But fear not: if you see an unhealthy looking fellow hopping towards you with pasty, possibly decaying skin, you can protect yourself with mirrors, the hooves of a black donkey, or the wood of a peach tree. They can also be scared off by the sound of a crowing rooster, though that would require a bit of planning, and the cooperation of the rooster in question. Which, knowing roosters, is unlikely.

Haitian Zombies

All legends of the undead have roots in real tragedies, but this one is particularly upsetting -- and the source of the zombie legend in the Western world today.

The enslaved people of Haiti believed that death would set them free, sending them back to an idyllic version of their homeland unburdened by colonialism. But only if death came naturally. Suicide would turn them into mindless husks, carrying out the drudgery of their captors. A haunting parallel to the practice of slavery itself.

The concept was introduced to a contemporary audience by the 1932 film White Zombie, which sees a white “voodoo master” (who clearly didn’t know anything about the actual Voodoo religion) using witchcraft to create obedient slaves. He eventually uses this (ahem) “”voodoo”” on a white woman to try and force her to fall in love with him.

With the term “zombie” in public consciousness, it became an applicable allegory for all of society’s ills, and can now be used to refer to anything from mob mentality to consumerism. But few are as haunting and as disturbing as its origins.

Videos on zombies:

The Origin of the Zombie, from Haiti to the US

Where Zombies Come From

100 Hundred Years of Zombie Evolution in Pop Culture

Best Contemporary Zombie Movies*

*That I know of. Will update with more.

Night of the Living Dead - Though White Zombie introduced the term, it was arguably this film that popularized zombies as we know them today, particularly as an allegory for herd mentality and consumerism. Its successors, including Day of the Dead and Dawn of the Dead, prove similarly influential.

The Evil Dead Trilogy - Established that zombies can be fun, while also serving as an allegory for various societal problems. Also features undead that are refreshingly ravenous and evil without necessarily being mindless.

The Re-Animator - These days, the average zombie movie pushes the bounds of creativity is “make ‘em faster!” The Re-Animator’s take on the genre, however, would make Mary Shelley proud. Based loosely on the Lovecraft story, “Herbert West - Reanimator,” the films greatest triumph is its ability to have fun with its grisly premise, and compel the audience to have fun, too. It’s also a cautionary tale about why it’s important to be careful while getting a roommate.

Shaun of the Dead - I’m not kidding. This film is great, and shows that you don’t need a serious tone to be heartfelt, scary, or provide a thought-provoking social commentary. Way back when I was a sixteen-year-old college freshman, I turned up to class as a zombie cheerleader, and my psychology professor recommended Shaun of the Dead to me. She’s a woman of impeccable taste, and it did not disappoint.

28 Days Later - Before Cillian Murphy gave us Tommy Shelby, a gangster so pretty he could give Al Capone a sexual identity crisis, he was proving his mettle in the zombie-addled UK. For 2020 reasons, watching him wander the abandoned streets of London with a questionable haircut feels very topical. Add a stellar performance from Naomie Harris, and there’s a reason it sent me into a bisexual panic it’s considered a modern classic of the genre.

Little Monsters - An egregiously underrated flick, featuring a kindergarten teacher (who happens to be, you know, Lupita Nyong’o) protecting her class during a zombie outbreak. A must watch if you want a zombie movie with a powerhouse lead, a happy ending, and perhaps the most badass kindergarten teacher in cinematic history.

#monster of the week #writers reference #writers resources #skeletons #zombies #blood for ts #racism mention for ts

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finnsgrin · 3 years

Text

Beauty and the Beast - John Murphy

John Murphy x reader

From my Wattpad: inanonacrimnalwayy

GIF: bellamysgriffin

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

John Murphy

Based on S1 E10

Spoilers: S1 E10

After Murphy is found, the sickness inflicted by the Grounders spreads like wildfire around camp, the thought of losing him is too much for you.

Word Count: 5,655

Published on: July 6, 2020

TW: Blood, sickness

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

♡Masterlist♡

Sleep became a rare occurrence for me.

When I did find the courage to shut off my mind, I was harassed with nightmares and plagued with horrific flashbacks that danced tirelessly behind my eyes.

I woke up every single time screaming for John to run.

It's no secret that the majority of camp hated John's guts.

But I was a different story.

Everyone in camp wanted to know me.

They wanted to know the kind girl who sang the younger fretful campers to sleep, and who always looked on the bright side no matter the circumstance.

They compared me and John to Beauty and the Beast.

"But the Beast is good inside. He just doesn't let anyone see that because when people see good, they expect good. And the Beast doesn't want to have to live up to anybody's expectations." I would always remind them.

Nobody seemed to care.

That's what angered me.

One night, while we were in our tent, I overheard several older campers badmouthing John.

I stood, hands balled into fists, eager to let off some of my steam on someone.

"Easy, babe. Don't stoop to their level." John had repeated the words I so often had to say to him when anything bothered him.

And I had to say them a lot, because everything bothers John.

I took a breath, and sat back down allowing him to massage my neck and shoulders which were tight and taut from the stresses of the day.

"They make me so angry. No one down here is innocent. We all have something that we did wrong. Why are they so quick to judge?" I lazily traced meaningless patterns on his hand which was riddled in scars and calluses.

I felt John chuckle, and he rested his chin in the crook of my neck.

"Because they're not you. They're not selfless, and kind, and forgiving. Some of them are ruthless murders."

I allowed his words to simmer in the heat of the tent.

I didn't like being called selfless.

John's just says that's another reason to call me selfless.

"I still don't like it." I pouted.

"No one says you have to like it. Now shut up and cuddle with me." John attacked me with tickles, peppering my face with kisses.

This is the side of John Murphy that no one else sees.

And that was the last night I had with John Murphy.

The morning brought uncertainty.

I could feel it in the air.

I've always been an anxious person, but John does his best to keep it at bay.

"What else could go wrong? We're miles away from home which isn't even on the planet, surrounded by crazy tree people who are hell bent on killing us all, and we're probably all gonna die before the snow falls."

I know his words were meant for comfort, but they always freaked me out even more.

I woke up, sorry - I mean I was trampled awake by a group of two dozen people who thrust their hands into the opening of our pathetic excuse of a tent.

I screamed as people grabbed my hair and scratched my arms.

What the hell was going on?

Were we being ambushed by Grounders?

"Murphy!"

"John Murphy!"

"Murphy, come out!"

Now I knew these were our people.

Why would Grounders be specifically after the most hated boy in our camp?

How would they even know his name?

We didn't even know if they spoke English.

"John, John, help me!"

My chest grew tight, and my legs felt like jelly, which was something that always happened to me before a panic attack.

"Hey, keep your hands off of her!" I saw John's fist come into contact with a boys face.

He was then physically dragged out of of camp, with me hot on their trail, slightly disoriented from what had just happened.

I spun around, frantic for the sight of someone, anyone who wasn't engrossed by the mosh pit with John in the center of it all.

"Harper, what's going on?" I found my good friend Harper, and clutched her arm.

She shook me free, disgust prominent on her face.

"Why don't you ask your boyfriend the killer? Wells was found dead this morning, and Murphy's knife was next to him."

What?

"Th-that's crazy! John did not kill Wells!"

"It sure looks like it!"

I wasn't about to argue furthermore with Harper. I needed to see Bellamy.

I found him in the mob, and yanked him free.

"Bellamy, this is crazy! Murphy didn't kill Wells! He couldn't have! He was by my side the entire night!" My words came out fast and jumbled.

"(Y/N), I know it's hard to comprehend, but Murphy killed Wells." Bellamy spoke to me in a calm manner.

"Bullshit! Harper said the knife was found near Wells? That wasn't Murphy! Even if he DID ever kill someone, he wouldn't be that sloppy. Please, Bellamy! You have to believe me!" Angry tears rolled down my face and panic grew.

"Bellamy! What do you want us to do with him?" Finn called over, stepping back and revealing a severely beaten Murphy who was now bound by the wrists and ankles, and gagged.

Bellamy took a final look at me. Once final glance at the broken girl who was on the cusp of a breakdown.

"String him up." Bellamy boomed, nodding to a large oak tree which housed thick and sturdy branches, a noose already tied securely around it.

They say adrenaline makes everything move quicker.

You run faster, you think faster, you act faster...

There must be something wrong with me, because I move in slow motion.

It's like when you're dreaming.

When you're dreaming and you're running away from a monster and it feels like your legs have been submerged in molasses. You scream at your legs to move faster, but they don't.

Everything was in slow motion.

I could see a struggling John being stood by an overturned bucket, using all of his strength to break free.

Chants and screams of those around us beckoning on his death.

Twigs snapping and dirt flying from beneath my bare feet as I sprinted towards John.

The cries out of my mouth, and the final gasp of breath when the bucket was overturned.

"No! No! Please! It wasn't him!" I shoved away bystanders, just inches away from the boy who I loved.

The boy on the drop ship who squeezed my hand telling me it was going to be alright.

The boy in the forest who picked flowers for me and presented them with a dopey smile.

The boy in the tent who held me close our first nights on the ground after Jaspers attack.

The boy who was now dangling from a tree, his hands working relentlessly to loosen the pull of the rope.

Someone was holding me back, and I clawed at their hands. But that just added another person, and another...

I fought and screamed and cried against the arms that held me back.

Feet were stomped on, wrists bitten, fingers bent back...

But they didn't let go.

His face was now purple, eyes bulging and red.

"It was me! It was me, okay!" A small voice screamed from the hill to my right.

There stood Charlotte, a twelve year old girl with blonde hair that was in two braids.

I heard she had been sent to the ground after attacking the guards that floated her parents.

"I killed Wells! Not Murphy!"

As her words were being registered, the arms and hands that were holding me hostage, loosened, and I lunged toward John, who was now limp.

"Cut him down! Somebody, please!" I begged as I jumped in the air in a pathetic attempt to reach him.

"Cut him down!" Bellamy ordered.

His body feel to the ground with a thud, and I shook his shoulders.

"John, please wake up!" I sobbed.

He gasped, sitting up and yanking the rope off of his neck.

"It's okay, you're okay. You're safe now." I engulfed him in a hug as he trembled beneath my touch.

All eyes were now on Charlotte, who had Bellamy next to her, crouched down so he could be at eye level with her.

She honestly couldn't have been bigger than a dog. A tiny thing, she was.

Did she really kill Wells? Or was that just a desperate ploy to save John's life?

"Charolette, what are you talking about?" Bellamy asked in disbelief.

Fear in her eyes made her seem even more vulnerable than she already was.

"You told me to slay my demons, Bellamy. Jaha killed my parents, and I can't get to Jaha, so I killed his son."

Everyone went quiet.

"Charlotte that's not what I meant. You KNOW that's not what I meant." Bellamy grabbed the young girl by her shoulders and shook her.

She nodded, tears falling to the ground.

"Well I say we kill the little bitch the same way you tried to kill me." John was now on his feet, angry marks on his neck bleeding and raised, crimson red and berry purple...

Agreement stirred amongst the crowd, and Bellamy stood in front of the girl.

"John, she's just a child." I reminded him softly, reaching out and touching is arm. Surely he had more sense than this.

"Pick, (Y/N). Me, or the kid?" He rasped.

I stuttered, words failing.

His eyes were cold.

"Just as I suspected. Maybe they got that part wrong. Maybe you're the Beast," He shoved me away, the rope still in his hands.

"Who's with me?!" Several people raised their fists and shouted in agreement.

"She could have killed any one of us, and the blame could have been on you, or you!" He thrusted his index finger toward people at random in the crowd.

"Nobody is dying today!" Bellamy hollered, Charolette still cowering behind him.

John flung the rope to the ground.

"A little to late for that, Bellamy. Why not her, next? She killed one of our people!"

No one could argue against that.

John lunged forward, and Bellamy held his arms out protectively.

After that, it was a madhouse.

People rushing from our side to Bellamy's to protect the little girl, and people joining John.

I was shoved from behind, and everything went black.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

"John! Run!"

I'm in a small tent, yet I still throw the blankets about, searching for him.

The first few days after his banishment, I convinced myself it was all a bad dream.

I wish it was.

Now over two weeks had passed and I still woke up screaming.

I made my bed, picking up John's sweatshirt as I did so, and inhaled his scent.

How long did I have until it faded?

There was a rap on the flimsy material of the tent, and Harper appeared, smiling.

"(Y/N), breakfast."

I turned away, my arms crossed and bottom lip jutted out like I was a four year old losing an argument.

She sighed, leaving a small bowl of berries next to the entrance of the shelter, and left.

After Clarke and Bellamy were the only ones to return from the woods, I cut everyone else off.

I didn't talk to anyone, let alone acknowledge their existence.

I still helped around, but that was for my sake. They would banish me, too if I wasn't of any use.

I fell into a rut the day John left.

His final words to me played like a broken record.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Wake up.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Make my bed.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Have breakfast.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Work.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Break time.

"Maybe you're the beast."

More work.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Dinner.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Bed time.

"Maybe you're the beast."

Repeat.

Maybe I was the beast.

Was I really as selfless as people made me out to be?

No, I was being smart. No one knows what happened to John, or if he was even still alive.

But what would John have done if the situation were reversed?

He would have gone after me, no questions asked.

I hated myself for the fact.

I had become the bitter girl.

I no longer sang the little ones to sleep.

I no longer offered hugs or advice.

I sat on a log, skinning squirrels and rabbits, staring blankly ahead as the day progressed.

Forgiveness had always been my thing.

Not anymore.

Bellamy had tried on more than one occasion to apologize to me, as did Clarke, and everyone else who took part in the hanging of John Murphy.

And every time, I told them to stick it where the sun don't shine.

"You have to talk to us eventually." Octavia approached me, knife in hand.

Silence.

"You can't keep ignoring us forever."

You wanna bet?

"(Y/N), I-."

"What? If I don't speak, you gonna string me up too? Like you did to John?"

I blinked away tears.

"We didn't know. We thought-."

"There's the thing, Octavia. You DID know. You knew John was innocent. You just wanted someone to pin it on." I interrupted her once more, tears breaking through the dam behind my eyelids.

The unmistakable bang of a gunshot made everyone jump. We all turned our heads to the source of the sound. Nate Miller was on guard, and he shot once more.

"Hold it!" Octavia yelled, running to Nate, me hot on her trail.

"Is it a Grounder?" Octavia asked Miller.

He blinked several times.

"I-I don't know. I just saw movement, and-."

"You could have just shot one of our people! I need a team with me. Let's move out."

Octavia grabbed a gun, and someone opened the gate.

I tagged along, not even caring if it was a Grounder.

What did I have to lose?

We jogged through the forest, eyes wide and alert.

Nothing.

No sound or movement of any kind. Whatever animals that had been around here were probably chased away by Miller's shot.

"Octavia, up there." Someone pointed in the distance to someone laying on the ground, unmoving.

I lurched forward, ignoring the hisses and orders of "Get back here!"

Really, what did I have to lose?

John was gone.

He called me a beast.

I picked Charolette over him.

Maybe what I deserved was a Grounder killing me.

That would be less painful than what I dealt with each day.

But it wasn't a Grounder.

Through caked mud, dried blood, and cracked leaves and debris, I could still make out the broken boy who was indeed John Murphy.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

"Clarke! We need Clarke!" Octavia screamed as several boys hauled John back to camp.

Was this a nightmare, too?

"What's going on?" Clarke jogged to Octavia's side, and glanced at me.

Clarke frowned, and grabbed my face.

Her hands felt hot.

I felt like I couldn't breath.

"She's in shock. Octavia what-."

"It's Murphy. He's alive. We found him outside of camp." Octavia panted.

The blonde girls attention turned to Murphy, who was now half conscious and confused.

"Bring him into the drop ship." Clarke ordered.

I began to follow, but my knees gave out and I collapsed.

Bellamy barely caught me by my elbows, and lead me to a makeshift chair where he called over Monty and Jasper to keep an eye on me.

Part of me wanted so badly to be with John. To ask him where he had been, what had happened...

Finally, Clarke emerged from the drop ship, hands stained a blood red, brows furrowed.

I jumped up so fast I nearly fell down again.

"What's going on? Is he okay?" My throat was tight and it burned to speak.

Clarke bit her lip, silent.

"Is he-."

"He's alive, but he's not in good shape." She answered, a hundred pound weight was lifted off my chest.

"What happened?" Jasper stood with me, unaware of the current situation.

Clarke hesitated, something she hardly ever did.

"A few days after we banished him, Murphy had been with the Grounders. He told them everything about our camp, and...they just let him go."

Monty scowled.

"Yeah, right. Murphy's always been a liar. He'll say anything to-."

"His fingernails have been ripped off, Monty. He was tortured. He's not lying."

Silence fell over us, and a wounded animal sound escaped my lips.

Clarke turned to me, harshly rubbing her hands on her pants in an attempt to scrub off the blood.

"He's asking for you, (Y/N). Don't be surprised when you go in there and see him chained up."

I had left before she had even finished her sentence.

John was alive... John was alive, and he wanted to see me.

I tripped over the threshold at the entrance, but that didn't slow me down.

He was indeed chained.

His wrists were bound with shiny handcuffs to a thick pole.

I lunged towards him, dropping on my hands and knees, taking his filthy face in my hands.

"John, oh, John, you're alive!" I exclaimed, tears sprouting in my eyes.

He smirked the same smirk I had grown to love, and the chains rattled as he tried to move his hands to wipe away my tears.

"It's okay. Let's clean you up." I stood, Bellamy's eyes focused on the two of us.

Of course, there had to be an armed guard.

"You could at least lower the gun." I seethed.

He didn't.

I had retrieved a wet cloth, and a cup of water to bring back to John.

He drank thirstily as I held the cup to his lips.

He gasped, exasperated by the little movement he had made.

I took the cloth, and began dabbing away the dirt that was caked onto his forehead. Some of it mixed with blood, and it looked painful.

He winced, and coughed.

"Sorry. I'm trying to be as gentle as I can." I apologized, pressing softer on the spots that appeared to be more tender.

"(Y/N)-."

"Hush, now. It's okay. Save your breath. We can talk later."

He relaxed a bit as I cleaned his face, humming as I did so.

Although my touch was gentle, he reacted otherwise, flinching away every time the wet cloth was brought to his face.

Unbeknownst to me, my eyes wandered aimlessly to his hands which were cracked, bleeding, and caked with dried tree sap, and dirt. My stomach did a flip as I realized Clarke was telling the truth. His fingernails were gone.

My throat grew tight, and I struggled to swallow the lump that had formed.

He was tortured.

He was really tortured.

"(Y/N)..." He spoke my name, his voice raspy, and his shackled hands reached up to my face once more, and I allowed him to wipe away the falling tears which had began to stream down my face again.

We didn't speak after that. Although I was positive that the salt was entering his wounds, hurting him furthermore, he wiped every single tear away as I dabbed at his face.

I took deep breaths, willing myself to calm down.

It's okay, (Y/N). Focus on one thing at a time.

Nearly all of the blood and grime had been washed away from his face, when John gasped and cupped his hand over his throat, sputtering and frantically flailing his arms about as if oxygen had suddenly refused to enter his lungs.

I don't even have time to turn my head before thick, hot blood was spewed into my face along with an array of the food that had been keeping John alive these past few weeks.

I heard Bellamy curse, and he dropped his loaded gun to the floor, sprinting out of the drop ship, screaming for Clarke as he did so.

John was on his side now, his face in a puddle of his own bloody vomit.

I struggled to keep down my meager breakfast.

Clarke rushed in, her cheeks alive with a red rouge.

She inched past me and kneeled down next to John, who was just beginning to catch his breath.

Clarke's hands were steady as she checked his pulse. She frowned, and then felt his forehead with the back of her hand.

She jerked away like his skin was as hot as a flame.

"What's happening to me?" John sniffed, blood now protruding from his terrified eyes.

The color in Clarke's cheeks was gone now, and she turned to both Bellamy and I.

"What is it? What's wrong with him?" Even Bellamy struggled to remain composed.

Clarke blinked a few times, debating if whether or not we should know.

"Clarke!" Bellamy's voice was full of worry.

The blonde girl shook her head, and gathered her senses.

"It's biological warfare. The Grounders infected him when they held him hostage. They knew he would come back, and they knew we would take him in. We don't have the genes to fight it off. They're trying to kill us."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Two different sections had been set up in the drop ship, now.

The lower level is where the sick and dying lay on stained blankets, and cold metal. The upper floor held both those who were showing symptoms, or those who had been around anyone who was already infected.

Clarke urged me to seek refuge in the upper level, where the coughs and groans and hacking of the lungs were suppressed by the thick metal trapdoor.

I bluntly refused, explaining that I was the first one to even touch John, and I was likely already infected. It wouldn't make sense to hole me up with people who possibly weren't even sick.

She halfheartedly agreed, only to the advantage that an extra pair of hands was helping. And God knows she needed them.

Whatever this was, it was spreading, and it was spreading fast.

Within the hour, twenty other cases were diagnosed by Clarke, and she, Bellamy, and I worked feverishly to get everything situated and keep everyone comfortable.

I had possibly seen more blood now than I had even seen back on The Ark when our class went on a field trip to Medbay, where we were given a tour of the blood bank, and explained to how transfusions worked.

At first, I attempted to tiptoe around the stringy vomit and clotted blood, but gave up when Clarke informed me that my shoes would protect my feet from contact.

Out of all of those who were afflicted, John was passed the most by the reluctant volunteers who wiped away blood and tears, and handed out cups of water.

My feet sloshed in stale vomit with a pungent smell as I witnessed John begin to convulse with shivers from fever.

The once wet compress that had been laid across his forehead, was now warm, and served no purpose. If anything, it was trapping the fever inside of him.

I removed the cloth, and dipped it in a nearby bucket of water that had been dispersed throughout the room for purposes such as this.

His teeth chattered violently.

"(Y-Y/N)." John's chest heaved with unfinished breaths, and I wiped the overgrown bangs away from his face.

"It's okay. Just rest." I hushed him.

If it were even possible, his skin blazed hotter than before, and his eyes grew dark.

"You haven't let me s-say a damn word every s-since I got h-here." His attempt to come across as angry and menacing was lost in a fit of dry coughs.

I helped him sit up, and rested his head so it was laying on my chest.

Once he had managed to catch his breath, I made him drink a few sips of water.

"You've spoken enough. You need to rest." I laid him back down, removing my sweatshirt and propping up his head with it so he could breath a bit easier.

He reached out for my hand, and I grabbed his fingertips, forgetting the absence of his nails.

He yelped, and pulled away instinctively.

I took his hand more gently this time, and traced meaningless patterns on the rough skin.

"They t-tortured m-me, y'know?" His eyes found mine.

Another flip in my stomach.

"I know." I whispered, my voice barley audible to myself.

John closed his eyes, his shoulders relaxing a little as he came to the realization that I wasn't going to hurt him.

"They beat me, and b-burned me, and tore off my nails, and cut me-."

"John, stop." I interrupted, feeling guilty the moment I did so.

If it helped him to talk about it, why stop him?

"But none of that compared to the torture it was of being w-without you," His eyes opened once more as he continued, and I saw something I thought I would never see again.

The John Murphy that I know and love.

"Th-they kept asking me for your name. I was so afraid they were going to h-hurt you, (Y/N). I told th-them they could know everything e-else, but not you."

His words were both comforting, and painful at the same time.

John cared about me this whole time? This entire time he was away?

And even though John cared for me, and I for him, how much time did he have left?

I suddenly wished he didn't confide in me. It would be easier to move on with his death thinking that he hated me.

And death was inevitable.

Two people had died already, after the fever basically melted them from the inside out.

Their deaths were bloody and violent, accompanied with choking and tears.

No one, not even Clarke had hope for them. The best we could do was hold their hand and whisper "May we meet again." as they took their final breath.

My fingers had ceased to move across his skin, and both my mind and my mouth struggled to find the right words.

"I thought you hated me." Was the best I was able to come up with in the heat of the moment.

John's sarcastic scoff was accompanied with saliva and blood which dribbled down his chin. He raised his hand weakly to wipe it away.

"Did the B-Beast ever stop loving the Beauty?" He asked me, voice low, and words slurred. Fatigue seemed overcome him, and he fought to remain conscious.

I blanked, my mind combing through the story I had grown up on. What had the Beauty done to the Beast? Sure, he was angry for whatever she had done, but did he ever really stop loving her?

"To put it simply, no. He was just... angry. He didn't mean anything he said." I whispered.

John yawned, and his lips curled up a bit into a half smile.

"And the Beauty forgave the Beast. No matter how much of a douchebag he was to her. Just proving how amazing she is." John smirked weakly.

"Rest, now." My hands became slick with perspiration as I pushed away the hair from his forehead which began to stick.

There was a song that went with the story, and I began to hum it as John's eyes closed, and sleep overcame his battered body.

Reality settled over me like a thick and heavy blanket, and I realized how awful the atmosphere was inside.

How long I had been tending to the sick, I don't know. But I did know that I needed to get some fresh air before I completely lost my mind. The enclosed space and the oder of the blood and vomit made me feel nauseated.

I tiptoed over bodies and cups of water to the opening of the drop ship, and stepped outside.

Twilight was fast approaching, and the few people who were experiencing no symptoms at all sat huddled together by the fire speaking in hushed voices.

"Hey, wanna hear a joke?"

Jasper Jordan stood a good ten feet away from me, his hand holding the leg of a rabbit which he ravenously consumed.

I weakly smiled, grateful for the shred of positivity the boy had the offer.

"Sure, why not?" I grinned.

Jasper smirked, and spoke through a mouthful of food.

"So a sick Grounder walks into a hospital and says-."

Jaspers eyes suddenly widened, and he stumbled back, tripping over a stick, dropping his food onto the soil as his hands instinctively brace himself.

I placed my hands on my hips, waiting for the punchline.

"Well?" I tapped my foot impatiently. A joke shouldn't take this long to tell, and I had to get back to the sick.

"Your-your eyes. They're bleeding." Jaspers voice was high pitched, and he continued to back away until his body hit the fence.

I scowled, not in the mood for a prank.

"Jasper, that's not funny. There are people in there who are-."

My voice came to a halt when I reached up to my eyes to prove there was no blood, but was met with it.

It coated my fingers and dripped onto a rock.

I screamed, backing away from Jasper, and my back hit the drop ship.

I sunk to the ground, my hands feverishly wiping the blood from my eyes which were now mixed with tears, creating the effect of more blood than there was.

Bellamy ran out of the drop ship, machine gun in hand, his eyes frantic for the sight of whatever he thought was in camp.

The last thing I remember is his brown eyes meeting mine, and his lips forming an incoherent sentence which I failed to hear as everything went black.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Something weighed heavy on my chest. I remember, once, when I was younger and recovering from pneumonia, a doctor had stacked a few books on my chest and made me breathe with them on me. He said the point was to strengthen my lungs and my breathing, but it only added anxiety and claustrophobia.

It was like I couldn't move, and I was grateful when someone turned my head to the side for me where I noisily began to vomit.

I could taste the blood, but there was no food to come up. Just acidic bile. It burned my throat and I cried out.

"It's okay. I'm right here." A familiar voice sounded far away, and everything moved in slow motion.

"John?" I think I spoke between the firs of coughing.

I was dizzy, but a hand made me sit up and drink some water which I immediately threw up.

My vision was blurry, but I could make out what was around me.

John looked so much better. It was like he was never even sick. His cheeks were still a bit pale, but he was sitting up, and sweat wasn't dumping from his pores anymore.

Less than a half dozen people lay around me on worn out seat cushions and soiled sheets of cloth. Bellamy Blake was to my right, and Octavia was helping him drink some water.

"Wh-." My questions were cut short as John shushed me and held me close to his chest.

Tears fell from his eyes and landed on the top of my head.

"Why are you crying?" It hurt to speak, and I wondered how long I had been unconscious.

He didn't speak right then, but held me tighter.

"I thought I lost you. I heard you scream and then I saw Bellamy carried you inside. I thought you were dead." His voice turned quiet as he spoke the last sentence, and it was my turn to comfort him.

"But I'm here. You're here. And we're okay." I rubbed his arm soothingly.

He helped me lay back down, the simple act of even being propped up exhausted me.

As he situated himself next to me, I noticed those who were sick not only five minutes ago up and about.

John noticed my frown, and he pushed a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

"What?" He questioned, mimicking my frown.

"How-how long was I asleep?" I asked.

He sighed.

"Almost a day. Clarke thinks this is just a 24 hour thing. Once you've had it, you can't get it anymore."

It made sense. Some of the sicknesses on The Ark were similar to the 24 hour period.

The wool blanket over me offered little warmth, and I shivered.

John held me closer, and made it to where my head was laying on his chest.

"You cold?" He asked me, already worming his way out of his jacket.

He laid it on top of me, and a fresh set of tears pooled in my eyes.

"What's the matter? Where do you hurt?" Murphy's eyes darted to Clarke for assistance, who also lay shivering on the floor of the drop ship.

"It smells like you." I whispered, my words weighing foolish and pathetic.

I could feel his head cock to the side on confusion.

"I used to sleep with your sweatshirt in the tent. I was worried that the scent of you would fade too soon, and I would have nothing left to hold on to."

It really did hurt to talk, and the fact that a lump was forming in my sandpaper dry throat didn't help matters.

John's strong hands took mine and forced me to look him in the eyes.

"But I'm here, now," He said firmly.

I nodded, crushing myself up against him, afraid that he would disappear into thin air.

He stroked my hair, and I listened to the comforting and familiar beat of his heart.

"I'm here."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

♡Masterlist♡

Don't forget to like and comment!

#the100 the100imagines the100xreader xreader xreaderimagines cwthe100 the100cw johnmurphy johnmurphyimagines the100murphy the100johnmurphy th

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camelotsheart · 4 years

Text

MERLIN CHALLENGE 2020 Day Thirteen - Favourite Cast Member Katie & Julian in 5x13 commentary

I know this is a very big stretch from the theme, but Katie and Julian in this commentary were honestly iconic. Includes: mentions of bondage, incest, so, so much subtext and just a horrendous amount of queerbaiting. I’ve compiled a list of the funniest/most important exchanges below the line.

At the start of the commentary:

J: There are no homoerotic undertones to Merlin of any kind.

K: I think so. I mean, whenever I played any scenes with Millie it was always straight in my mind.

J: No, there are definitely lesbian undertones in those.

When Merlin tells Arthur he has magic:

J: It's a very beautiful moment between two men. [Katie tries to hold her laughter]

K: ...You are not helping this commentary at all, by the way, Julian.

J: No, I'm not.

K: I think you possibly have been waiting for the sixty-five episodes to do this one commentary.

J: Yes. I've always been a bit more serious in the previous ones.

K: No he hasn't, actually.

Also in this scene:

J: ...On no level is magic metaphorical in this show.

K: It's funny, because I don't actually feel like you're being sincere.

J: I'm always sincere.

K: You're the exec. You are never sincere.

J: Believe me, I'm a fountain of truth and honesty.

K: Julian is lying right now. Lying.

When Gwen is back in the castle and Leon reports to her that Arthur is still missing:

J: We've gone to the spurned wife who wants to know where her husband is.

K: But she has Sir Leon. Why would she need...?

J: Ah... Well you see, that's another undercurrent in Merlin, isn't it?

K: Sir Leon?

J: Sir Leon.

K: Oh no. It's definitely-

J: Sir Leon and Gwen.

Also in this scene:

K: ...We know that you never gave me any love interests.

J: I gave you Morgause.

K: [She laughs] He says -- in all seriousness!

J: Incestuous lesbianism. What more can you want?

K: You cannot make a show without lesbianism, in all fairness.

J: It's gotta be said.

Also in this scene:

K: I do worry about you guys, actually. I worry that there are men sitting in a room with Merlin just trying to come up with the most ridiculous scenes that they could get past the BBC.

J: That's...

K: He's nodding.

J: Not true.

K: He is nodding! He's nodding -- it's so true!

J: It's a family show.

K: Not in your head.

When Arthur tells Gaius Merlin is a sorcerer:

K: Did Gaius know?

J: What, that he was a sorcerer?

K: That's not what I asked. About the undertones.

J: No, Richard would never think of anything like that.

K: You're right, he's a gentleman.

J: He's a gentleman... A man of genuine innocence.

When Arthur gives Gaius the royal seal:

K: The seal... He's passing the mantle to the woman-

J: Yep. That's the last vestige of his heterose-- I mean, sorry. That's the last vestige of his marriage--

K: Oh my god! [They laugh] This has descended to a level. I mean, I thought I was bad in these - playing up - but I have got nothing on Julian Murphy here. I think we should just throw it all out the window.

J: The way we directed the scene where Gaius tells Gwen is basically the thing of it.

K: I think you must just think of most of these scenes in this episode (as the thing of it), if you don't go-

J: It always helps, I swear.

K: You know, he ain't lying again. He has told me this.

J: If you want to find the emotional truth of it, it does help.

When Gaius comes back to Camelot and talks to Gwen:

J: That's a tricky one for Gaius to explain - why he's not come back to his wife.

K: You-- You're seeing an entirely different show here than a lot of people, aren't you?

J: Yeah, I know. I do.

When.... er, Julian describes it better:

J: This is the scene where Merlin feeds Arthur... I'll just let that hang in the air.

K: I will input what I can. Alex Vlahos is lost in laughter listening to this. He can't quite believe what's coming out of your mouth.

J: It's actually quite a moving scene.

K: And yet that's not what you want to comment on.

And uh, yeah... another one:

J: Now Merlin is giving Arthur a drink.

K: I think he's just giving him a drink there.

J: Yes. They just spend the whole episode on this journey. It's quite simple.

K: Feeding each other?

J: The feeding thing, I think, is in your mind, Katie.

K: You just said it then. I'm just repeating back to you what you said. Don't try and blame this on me! For a start, you guys came up with the episodes!

When Gwaine and Percival are attacking Morgana:

J: This entire sequence is actually a homage to Tom's arms.

When Morgana has tied them up:

J: Oh, Katie. You've tied up the man again.

K: I know. I just like them where I want them, you know. I don't want them to go far.

J: And as you say, thousands of girls watching Merlin want them in that position.... You've tied them both up!

K: Well, like I said - I don't want them to run away when I want them.

When Merlin uses his magic to lead Saxons on a false trail:

[Arthur: All these years Merlin, and you never once sought any credit.

Merlin: That's not why I do it.]

K: Liar!

J: Well, he knows.

K: What are you--

J: You can never be too sure about these things.

K: It's all the meaningful glances now after this DVD commentary that I'm just going--

J: I should say that Katie, just before we wrote this episode, insisted that it ended with a kiss between Arthur and Merlin.

K: That is not what I said. That's what you put into it. I had the most amazing ending.... My ending, which you didn't use, which I thought would have been amazing, is -- Arthur. Mortally wounded on the battlefield. Merlin comes up and cradles him in his arms. Merlin to Arthur: I have magic. Arthur takes his face in his hands: I know. I think I've always known.

When Arthur and Merlin rest for an hour:

[Arthur: Whatever happens--

Merlin: Shh. Don't talk.

Arthur: I'm the king, Merlin. You can't tell me what to do.]

K: Awww

[Merlin: I always have. I'm not going to change now.]

K: [laughs] oh my god....

[Arthur: I don't want you to change.]

K: [continues laughing] Do you know how much trouble we're going to get in from people saying this was a beautiful moment and all you guys can do is laugh?

J: Well I think you need to have both sides of it. And to be fair, we did genuinely think of the episode as a love story between two men. That's what I think it is. Jokes aside and innuendos aside, I remember talking to Justin and saying that's what it's about.

K: You can't deny that Merlin and Arthur love each other. On whatever love way you want to think. There is no denying it.

J: I think it's a purer love than you, say, had for your sister.

K: You say I had for my sister. [Julian laughs] Ok. I don't know how you read that into it.

J: No. We'll stop there.

K: Oh, we won't.

When Morgana rides her horse through the woods:

K: More Katie galloping.

J: I think you did that just so you could see my boobs.

K: I definitely didn't.

When The Scene happens:

J: Now we're nearing the moment. I'll show you where exactly I'd pick is the...

K: ...where it's all been building to -- almost sixty-five hours of TV. Special moment.

... [Arthur: Just hold me, please.]

J: There you are.

K: [gasps] I can't believe you put that in.

J: Well I think it's... you know, he's dying. The man he loves is dying, so he's holding him.

K: I don't think that's what you meant at all when you put that line.

J: It is!

Shameless trivialisation of ruining everyone’s holiday:

J: I don't know how the nation's gonna feel on christmas eve, but anyway.

K: Yeah, it's kind of a downer.

Katie being literally everyone in the Merlin fandom:

[Kilgharrah: No man, no matter how great, can know his destiny.]

K: Hold on a second here, hasn't the dragon been telling him his destiny this entire time?

J: Yeah, but that's the sort of annoying comment that people make when they're not just going with the flow.

K: Oh really? Oh really, is it? [they laugh] Fine then!

#no edits today #but it was enjoyable nontheless #this is the only commentary I've listened to #will listen to the others if i get time #bbc merlin #merlinchallenge2020 #katie mcgrath #julian murphy

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whatiwillsay · 4 years

Text

late stage swiftgron - the folklore era - 1.0

this post will include all relevant and major activities between taylor and dianna since taylor announced folklore on the morning of July 23, 2020.

click here for a dianna’s spotify masterpost (we are only including the most loud spotify activities on this post but it’s all very interesting)

tagging @jennyboom21, @goldenageofsomethingblue, and @tayloragron to help me out if i miss something (and ofc all of you swiftgrons who help out with the blog, don’t hesitate to let me know if i miss something major)

JULY 23, 2020

- 8 AM EASTERN - TAYLOR ANNOUNCES FOLKLORE TO COME OUT AT MIDNIGHT

- THAT AFTERNOON - DIANNA UPLOADS A NEW PLAYLIST TO SPOTIFY ENTITLED I’LL BE AROUND, WITH ONE SONG ON IT - ‘I’LL BE AROUND’ BY FLOOR CRY:

- DIANNA ALSO STREAMS THE SONG ‘I LOVE YOU SO’ BY THE WALTERS:

this song contains a very loud lyric that makes us believe ‘the 1′ is about dianna:

JULY 24, 2020

- MIDNIGHT - FOLKLORE COMES OUT

- SOME TIME THAT AFTERNOON - DIANNA ATTENDS NAYA RIVERA’S FUNERAL IN LA

JULY 25, 2020

- AFTERNOON - DIANNA TURNS OFF HER SPOTIFY LISTENING FOR THE REST OF THE DAY AND INTO THE NEXT DAY (WE THEORIZE TO LISTEN TO FOLKLORE)

- DIANNA’S SOON TO BE EX HUSBAND, WINSTON MARSHALL, POSTS THIS SHADY ASS PIC TO INSTAGRAM WITH THE CARDIGAN LYRICS WHILE HE PLAYS A BOARD GAME WITH HIS BAND MATE

JULY 29, 2020

- DIANNA POSTS A LOUDLY DOLLY BIRTHDAY POST FOR MOLLY’S BIRTHDAY

- TAYLOR RELEASES THE “cabin in candlelight” VERSION OF CARDIGAN

JULY 30, 2020

- DIANNA IS RATHER ACTIVE ON SPOTIFY INCLUDING A STREAM OF ‘HAPPY TOGETHER’ COVERED BY FLOOR CRY WHICH SEEMS TO BE A DOLLY SONG (there is a very cute video of them goofing around on a beach, pretending to make out, being very adorable and affectionate with each other - dianna posted it and specifically edited it to add the song happy together)

- THE BLOG GETS AN ANON REMINDING US HOW DIANNA WOULD LISTEN TO PALE BLUE EYES BY THE VELVET UNDERGROUND AROUND THE TIME SWIFTGRON WAS BREAKING UP IN 2013, WE PUBLISH AND DISCUSS ON MAIN

AUGUST 4, 2020

- DIANNA STREAMS PALE BLUE EYES BY VELVET UNDERGROUND ON HER PUBLIC SPOTIFY 5 DAYS WE DISCUSSED HER LISTENING TO THAT SONG IN 2013 HERE ON THE BLOG

- TAYLOR IS SPOTTED IN CAPE COD

AUGUST 5, 2020

- TAYLOR NO-HOMO’S BETTY ON COUNTRY RADIO

- DIANNA STREAMS PALE BLUE EYES AGAIN

AUGUST 6, 2020

- KEVIN TEASES SWIFTGRON ON SHOWMANCE AND TALKS ABOUT TAYLOR LOOKING FOR SOMEONE (LIKELY DIANNA) ON THE GLEE SET IN FEBRUARY OR MARCH 2014, POSSIBLY CONFIRMING THAT SWIFTGRON PINING WENT ON LONGER THAN WE EARLIER THOUGHT

- TAYLOR IS SPOTTED BRIEFLY IN LA WITH JOE

AUGUST 8, 2020

- DIANNA IS CONFIRMED TO BE BACK IN NYC

AUGUST 9, 2020

- DIANNA TRULY SNAPS, CRAVES WET PUSSY ON MAIN IN THE PLATFORM PRESENTS EDWARD SNOWDEN SKIT. WE LIKE TO PRETEND THAT SHE DID THIS TO MAKE UP FOR TAYLOR’S NO-HOMO OF BETTY

AUGUST 15, 2020

- BOTH OUR GIRLS POST TO SOCIAL MEDIA ABOUT SUPPORTING THE USPS WITHIN THE SAME HOUR

- DIANNA IS ON A FRIEND’S SOCIAL MEDIA IN CONNECTICUT

AUGUST 18, 2020

- THE LAKES (WHICH IS A SONG ABOUT TAYLOR WAITING FOR HER MUSE) AND THE DELUXE VERSION OF FOLKLORE COMES OUT

- TAYLOR DISCUSSES THE MEANING BEHIND EXILE ON RADIO

AUGUST 19, 2020

- DIANNA’S DIVORCE IS ANNOUNCED AROUND 8 AM EASTERN TIME

AUGUST 20, 2020

- ESCAPISM FOLKLORE CHAPTER RELEASED

AUGUST 21, 2020

- DIANNA IS SPOTTED IN NYC WITH HER HAIR CUT AND FRESHLY DYED

- DIANNA GAY RUMORS SWIRL AS WELL AS HER CONNECTION TO TAYLOR, IT ALL SEEMS TO BE PICKING UP STEAM, THE BLOG PREDICTS A JOE x TAYLOR STUNT

- DIANNA’S WIKIPEDIA PAGE IS EDITED, A MORE FEMININE PICTURE IS MADE HER MAIN PICTURE, SEVERAL PEOPLE ARE EDITING HER PERSONAL LIFE SECTION. SWIFTGRON RUMORS ARE ADDED TO IT:

IT APPEARS AS THOUGH A USER GOING BY KINGSIF MAKES THESE EDITS:

AUGUST *22*, 2020

- IT IS ONE OF DIANNA’S GOOD FRIEND’S, SELBY’S BIRTHDAY. SELBY (WHO WAS AT THE FUN CONCERT IN FALL 2013) POSTS TO INSTAGRAM WITH BOTH MTR AND WILDEST DREAMS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND. DIANNA DOES NOT PUBLICLY WISH HER A HAPPY BIRTHDAY (tho she didn’t post for selby’s birthday last year, however she didn’t like molly’s selby birthday dedication and she usually does comment on posts molly has made for selby’s birthday or like it or both in the past, she also didn’t comment on or like tracy dubb’s selby birthday post)

AUGUST 23, 2020

- SLEEPLESS NIGHTS FOLKLORE CHAPTER RELEASED

AUGUST 24, 2020

- DIANNA IS IN CHILMARK, MA AT A LAKE WITH FRIENDS (it’s probably a coincidence but this location is not too far a drive or ferry ride from taylor’s place - about an hour)

AUGUST 25, 2020

- DIANNA IS HAPPY AND FRESH AND CUTE ON THE SHIVA BABY LIVE STREAM

AUGUST 26, 2020

- SALTBOX FOLKLORE CHAPTER RELEASE

- THE BLOG POSTS THE SPOTIFY SINCE FOLKLORE MASTERPOST

- A FEW HOURS LATER SPOTIFY GLITCHES AND/OR DIANNA GOES PRIVATE ON SPOTIFY, IT IS HARD TO TELL WHICH HAPPENED OR IF BOTH THINGS HAPPENED. SHE DOESN’T STREAM AGAIN UNTIL 9/2/2020

- DIANNA IS PAPPED IN NYC CARRYING A BOOK DESCRIBED AS RAUNCHY AND QUEER LMAO

- DIANNA SHOWS UP IN INSTAGRAM STORIES OF SOMEONE WEARING A MASK AND A DETROIT BLOWS SHIRT

AUGUST 28, 2020

- DIANNA SHOWS UP IN A DOG’S INSTAGRAM POSTS, RARE BTS FOOTAGE OF HER IN HER AMAZING ROMEO DRAG FOR HER ROMEO AND JULIET PHOTOSHOOT FROM 2019

- TAYLOR NATION POSTS A PICTURE OF TAYLOR WITH WINE FROM THE FOLKLORE LIVE CHAT THAT TOOK PLACE THE EVENING OF THE 23RD RIGHT BEFORE FOLKLORE DROPPED TO CELEBRATE NATIONAL *RED* WINE DAY

AUGUST 29, 2020

- DIANNA’S INVOLVEMENT IN A PLAY OR FILM ADAPTATION OF A TALE OF TWO CITIES GOES PUBLIC ON INSABELLA MACPHERSON’S INSTAGRAM. THE QUOTE REFERENCED IS, “IT WAS THE BEST OF TIMES IT WAS THE WORST OF TIMES”

- THE OSSA YOUTUBE CHANNEL SNAPS AND SENDS SWIFTGRON MAINSTREAM SHOWING THAT NO, THEY’RE NOT OVER SWIFTGRON SO WHY SHOULD WE BE OVER IT? THEY ADD SWIFTGRON RUMORS TO A VIDEO TALKING ABOUT WHO ALL THE GLEE CAST HAS DATED.

as of 9-4-2020 9 am central this video now has 115 k views:

AUGUST 30, 2020

- DIANNA’S OLD BOSS RYAN MURPHY FOLLOWS TAYLOR ON INSTAGRAM, MAKING HER THE 13TH PERSON HE FOLLOWS (we speculate that taylor’s music will be featured on his upcoming movie, the prom)

- TAYLOR WINS VMA FOR BEST DIRECTION FOR THE MAN, SHE GIVES A DIGITAL ACCEPTANCE SPEECH AND ENDS IT WITH A TENDER “I HOPE I GET TO SEE YOU SOON.”

AUGUST 31, 2020

- THE BLOG REQUESTS DIANNA TO COME BACK TO SPOTIFY:

SEPTEMBER 2, 2020

- DIANNA COMES BACK TO SPOTIFY WITH TWO VERY INTERESTING PLAYLISTS (songs that seem to specifically and blatantly reference taylor’s lyrics)

SEPTEMBER 3, 2020

- DIANNA PAPPED IN NYC OUT BOOK SHOPPING

SEPTEMBER 4, 2020

- CAM SNAPS AND DECIDES TO CELEBRATE THE FAIRFAX FLEA MARKET ANNIVERSARY BY MAKING THIS MASTERPOST. HAPPY SWIFTGRONTEMBER.

what does it all mean?

as you all know, this blog does not think swiftgron is together (other than being friendly and on cordial or even close terms) however we do think swiftgron is being referenced by kevin, her wikipedia, and that news video as part of a narrative. we are not entirely sure what that narrative is but we have two very specific ideas. if you hang around the blog or discord you probably know what our two theories are. we are not comfortable blogging them publicly right now.

the usps post coordination is very loud to us as well along with the outside sources commenting on swiftgron.

it is not just our small circle of delulu 2020 swiftgrons that notice something going on with the girls. they are referencing each other and seem to be circling one another and normal people are taking note.

i probably missed a lot so please ping me if i did (esp about taylor, we don’t track her as closely as we do dianna, we’re going to start though) and please read over this post with big swiftgron intelligence agency eyes 👀👀👀! if there are connections and “coincidences” that stand out to you anon the blog or comment please!

and that’s what you missed on swiftgron

#timeline #late stage swiftgron #swiftgron folklore era 1.0 #spotify #magick #swiftgron #gaylor swift

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ahouseoflies · 3 years

Text

The Best Films of 2020

I can’t tell you anything novel or insightful about this year that has been stolen from our lives. I watched zero of these films in a theater, and I watched most of them half-asleep in moments that I stole from my children. Don’t worry, there are some jokes below.

GARBAGE

93. Capone (Josh Trank)- What is the point of this dinner theater trash? It takes place in the last year of Capone's life, when he was released from prison due to failing health and suffered a stroke in his Florida home. So it covers...none of the things that make Al Capone interesting? It's not historically accurate, which I have no problem with, but if you steer away from accuracy, then do something daring and exciting. Don't give me endless scenes of "Phonse"--as if the movie is running from the very person it's about--drawing bags of money that promise intrigue, then deliver nothing in return.

That being said, best "titular character shits himself" scene since The Judge.

92. Ammonite (Francis Lee)- I would say that this is the Antz to Portrait of a Lady on Fire's A Bug's Life, but it's actually more like the Cars 3 to Portrait of a Lady on Fire's Toy Story 1.

91. Ava (Tate Taylor)- Despite the mystery and inscrutability that usually surround assassins, what if we made a hitman movie but cared a lot about her personal life? Except neither the assassin stuff nor the family stuff is interesting?

90. Wonder Woman 1984 (Patty Jenkins)- What a miscalculation of what audiences loved about the first and wanted from the sequel. WW84 is silly and weightless in all of the ways that the first was elegant and confident. If the return of Pine is just a sort of phantom representation of Diana's desires, then why can he fly a real plane? If he is taking over another man's soul, then, uh, what ends up happening to that guy? For that matter, why is it not 1984 enough for Ronald Reagan to be president, but it is 1984 enough for the president to have so many Ronald Reagan signifiers that it's confusing? Why not just make a decision?

On paper, the me-first values of the '80s lend themselves to the monkey's paw wish logic of this plot. You could actually do something with the Star Wars program or the oil crisis. But not if the setting is played for only laughs and the screenplay explains only what it feels like.

89. Babyteeth (Shannon Murphy)- In this type of movie, there has to be a period of the Ben Mendelsohn character looking around befuddled about the new arrangement and going, "What's this now--he's going to be...living with us? The guy who tried to steal our medication? This is crazy!" But that's usually ten minutes, and in this movie it's an hour. I was so worn out by the end.

88. You Should Have Left (David Koepp)- David Koepp wrote Jurassic Park, so he's never going to hell, but how dare he start caring about his own mystery at the hour mark. There's a forty-five minute version of this movie that could get an extra star from me, and there's a three-hour version of Amanda Seyfried walking around in athleisure that would get four stars from me. What we actually get? No thanks.

87. Black Is King (Beyonce, et al.)- End your association with The Lion King, Bey. It has resulted in zero bops.

ADMIRABLE FAILURES

86. Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (Cathy Yan)- There's nothing too dysfunctional in the storytelling or performances, but Birds of Prey also doesn't do a single thing well. I would prefer something alive and wild, even if it were flawed, to whatever tame belt-level formula this is.

85. The Turning (Floria Sigismondi)- This update of The Turn of the Screw pumps the age of Miles up to high school, which creates some horny creepiness that I liked. But the age of the character also prevents the ending of the novel from happening in favor of a truly terrible shrug. I began to think that all of the patience that the film showed earlier was just hesitance for its own awful ending.

I watched The Turning as a Mackenzie Davis Movie Star heat check, and while I'm not sure she has the magnetism I was looking for, she does have a great teacher voice, chastening but maternal.

84. Bloodshot (David Wilson)- A whole lot of Vin Diesel saying he's going to get revenge and kill a bunch of dudes; not a whole lot of Vin Diesel actually getting revenge and killing a bunch of dudes.

83. Downhill (Nat Faxon and Jim Rash)- I was an English major in college, which means I ended up locking myself into literary theories that, halfway through the writing of an essay, I realized were flawed. But rather than throw out the work that I had already proposed, I would just keep going and see if I could will the idea to success.

So let's say you have a theory that you can take Force Majeure by Ruben Ostlund, one of the best films of its year, and remake it so that its statement about familial anxiety could apply to Americans of the same age and class too...if it hadn't already. And maybe in the first paragraph you mess up by casting Will Ferrell and Julia Louis-Dreyfus, people we are conditioned to laugh at, when maybe this isn't that kind of comedy at all. Well, don't throw it away. You can quote more--fill up the pages that way--take an exact shot or scene from the original. Does that help? Maybe you can make the writing more vigorous and distinctive by adding a character. Is that going to make this baby stand out? Maybe you could make it more personal by adding a conclusion that is slightly more clever than the rest of the paper?

Or perhaps this is one you're just not going to get an A on.

82. Hillbilly Elegy (Ron Howard)- I watched this melodrama at my mother's encouragement, and, though I have been trying to pin down her taste for decades, I think her idea of a successful film just boils down to "a lot of stuff happens." So in that way, Ron Howard's loss is my gain, I guess.

There is no such thing as a "neutral Terminator."

81. Relic (Natalie Erika James)- The star of the film is Vanessa Cerne's set decoration, but the inert music and slow pace cancel out a house that seems neglected slowly over decades.

80. Buffaloed (Tanya Wexler)- Despite a breathless pace, Buffaloed can't quite congeal. In trying to split the difference between local color hijinks and Moneyballed treatise on debt collection, it doesn't commit enough to either one.

Especially since Zoey Deutch produced this one in addition to starring, I'm getting kind of worried about boo's taste. Lot of Two If by Seas; not enough While You Were Sleepings.

79. Like a Boss (Miguel Arteta)- I chuckled a few times at a game supporting cast that is doing heavy lifting. But Like a Boss is contrived from the premise itself--Yeah, what if people in their thirties fell out of friendship? Do y'all need a creative consultant?--to the escalation of most scenes--Why did they have to hide on the roof? Why do they have to jump into the pool?

The movie is lean, but that brevity hurts just as much as it helps. The screenplay knows which scenes are crucial to the development of the friendship, but all of those feel perfunctory, in a different gear from the setpieces.

To pile on a bit: Studio comedies are so bare bones now that they look like Lifetime movies. Arteta brought Chuck & Buck to Sundance twenty years ago, and, shot on Mini-DV for $250,000, it was seen as a DIY call-to-bootstraps. I guarantee that has more setups and locations and shooting days than this.

78. Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga (David Dobkin)- Add Dan Stevens to the list of supporting players who have bodied Will Ferrell in his own movie--one that he cared enough to write himself.

Like Downhill, Ferrell's other 2020 release, this isn't exactly bad. It's just workmanlike and, aside from the joke about Demi Lovato's "uninformed" ghost, frustratingly conventional.

77. The Traitor (Marco Bellochio)- Played with weary commitment by Pierfrancesco Favino, Tomasso Buscetta is "credited" as the first informant of La Cosa Nostra. And that sounds like an interesting subject for a "based on a true story" crime epic, right? Especially when you find out that Buscetta became a rat out of principle: He believed that the mafia to which he had pledged his life had lost its code to the point that it was a different organization altogether.

At no point does Buscetta waver or even seem to struggle with his decision though, so what we get is less conflicted than that description might suggest. None of these Italian mob movies glorify the lifestyle, so I wasn't expecting that. But if the crime doesn't seem enticing, and snitching on the crime seems like forlorn duty, and everything is pitched with such underhanded matter-of-factness that you can't even be sure when Buscetta has flipped, then what are we left with? It was interesting seeing how Italian courts work, I guess?

76. Kajillionaire (Miranda July)- This is another movie so intent on building atmosphere and lore that it takes too long to declare what it is. When the protagonist hits a breaking point and has to act, she has only a third of a film to grow. So whispery too.

Gina Rodriguez is the one to inject life into it. As soon as her motormouth winds up, the film slips into a different gear. The atmosphere and lore that I mentioned reeks of artifice, but her character is believably specific. Beneath a basic exterior is someone who is authentically caring but still morally compromised, beholden to the world that the other characters are suspicious of.

75. Scoob! (Tony Cervone)- The first half is sometimes clever, but it hammers home the importance of friendship while separating the friends.

The second half has some positive messaging, but your kids' movie might have a problem with scale if it involves Alexander the Great unlocking the gates of the Underworld.

My daughter loved it.

74. The Lovebirds (Michael Showalter)- If I start talking too much about this perfectly fine movie, I end up in that unfair stance of reviewing the movie I wanted, not what is actually there.* As a fan of hang-out comedies, I kind of resent that any comedy being made now has to be rolled into something more "exciting," whether it's a wrongfully accused or mistaken identity thriller or some other genre. Such is the post-Game Night world. There's a purposefully anti-climactic note that I wish The Lovebirds had ended on, but of course we have another stretch of hiding behind boats and shooting guns. Nanjiani and Rae are really charming leads though.

*- As a New Orleanian, I was totally distracted by the fake aspects of the setting too. "Oh, they walked to Jefferson from downtown? Really?" You probably won't be bothered by the locations.

73. Sonic the Hedgehog (Jeff Fowler)- In some ways the storytelling is ambitious. (I'm speaking for only myself, but I'm fine with "He's a hedgehog, and he's really fast" instead of the owl mother, teleportation backstory. Not everything has to be Tolkien.) But that ambition doesn't match the lack of ambition in the comedy, which depends upon really hackneyed setups and structures. Guiding Jim Carrey to full alrighty-then mode was the best choice anyone made.

72. Malcolm & Marie (Sam Levinson)- The stars move through these long scenes with agility and charisma, but the degree of difficulty is just too high for this movie to reach what it's going for.

Levinson is trying to capture an epic fight between a couple, and he can harness the theatrical intensity of such a thing, but he sacrifices almost all of the nuance. In real life, these knock-down-drag-outs can be circular and indirect and sad in a way that this couple's manipulation rarely is. If that emotional truth is all this movie is trying to achieve, I feel okay about being harsh in my judgment of how well it does that.

71. Beanpole (Kantemir Balagov)- Elusive in how it refuses to declare itself, forthright in how punishing it is. The whole thing might be worth it for a late dinner scene, but I'm getting a bit old to put myself through this kind of misery.

70. The Burnt Orange Heresy (Giuseppe Capotondi)- Silly in good ways until it's silly in bad ways. Elizabeth Debicki remains 6'3".

69. Everybody’s Everything (Sebastian Jones and Ramez Silyan)- As a person who listened to Lil Peep's music, I can confidently say that this documentary is overstating his greatness. His death was a significant loss, as the interview subjects will all acknowledge, but the documentary is more useful as a portrait of a certain unfocused, rapacious segment of a generation that is high and online at all times.

68. The Witches (Robert Zemeckis)- Robert Zemeckis, Kenya Barris, and Guillermo Del Toro are the credited screenwriters, and in a fascinating way, you can see the imprint of each figure on the final product. Adapting a very European story to the old wives' tales of the American South is an interesting choice. Like the Nicolas Roeg try at this material, Zemeckis is not afraid to veer into the terrifying, and Octavia Spencer's pseudo witch doctor character only sells the supernatural. From a storytelling standpoint though, it seems as if the obstacles are overcome too easily, as if there's a whole leg of the film that has been excised. The framing device and the careful myth-making of the flashback make promises that the hotel half of the film, including the abrupt ending, can't live up to.

If nothing else, Anne Hathaway is a real contender for Most On-One Performance of the year.

67. Irresistible (Jon Stewart)- Despite a sort of imaginative ending, Jon Stewart's screenplay feels more like the declarative screenplay that would get you hired for a good movie, not a good screenplay itself. It's provocative enough, but it's clumsy in some basic ways and never evades the easy joke.

For example, the Topher Grace character is introduced as a sort of assistant, then is re-introduced an hour later as a polling expert, then is shown coaching the candidate on presentation a few scenes later. At some point, Stewart combined characters into one role, but nothing got smoothed out.

ENDEARING CURIOSITIES WITH BIG FLAWS

66. Yes, God, Yes (Karen Maine)- Most people who are Catholic, including me, are conflicted about it. Most people who make movies about being Catholic hate it and have an axe to grind. This film is capable of such knowing wit and nuance when it comes to the lived-in details of attending a high school retreat, but it's more concerned with taking aim at hypocrisy in the broad way that we've seen a million times. By the end, the film is surprisingly all-or-nothing when Christian teenagers actually contain multitudes.

Part of the problem is that Karen Maine's screenplay doesn't know how naive to make the Alice character. Sometimes she's reasonably naive for a high school senior in 2001; sometimes she's comically naive so that the plot can work; and sometimes she's stupid, which isn't the same as naive.

65. Bad Boys for Life (Adil El Arbi and Bilall Fallah)- This might be the first buddy cop movie in which the vets make peace with the tech-comm youngs who use new techniques. If that's the only novelty on display here--and it is--then maybe that's enough. I laughed maybe once. Not that the mistaken identity subplot of Bad Boys 1 is genius or anything, but this entry felt like it needed just one more layer to keep it from feeling as basic as it does. Speaking of layers though, it's almost impossible to watch any Will Smith movie now without viewing it through the meta-narrative of "What is Will Smith actually saying about his own status at this point in his career?" He's serving it up to us.

I derived an inordinate amount of pleasure from seeing the old school Simpson/Bruckheimer logo.

64. The Gentlemen (Guy Ritchie)- Look, I'm not going to be too negative on a movie whose crime slang is so byzantine that it has to be explained with subtitles. That's just me. I'm a simple man. But I can tell you that I tuned out pretty hard after seven or eight double-crosses.

The bloom is off the rose a bit for Ritchie, but he can still nail a music cue. I've been waiting for someone to hit "That's Entertainment" the way he does on the end credits.

63. Bad Hair (Justin Simien)- In Bad Hair, an African-American woman is told by her boss at a music video channel in 1989 that straightening her hair is the way to get ahead; however, her weave ends up having a murderous mind of its own. Compared to that charged, witty logline, the execution of the plot itself feels like a laborious, foregone conclusion. I'm glad that Simien, a genuinely talented writer, is making movies again though. Drop the skin-care routine, Van Der Beek!

62. Greyhound (Aaron Schneider)- "If this is the type of role that Tom Hanks writes for himself, then he understands his status as America's dad--'wise as the serpent, harmless as the dove'--even better than I thought." "America's Dad! Aye aye, sir!" "At least half of the dialogue is there for texture and authenticity, not there to be understood by the audience." "Fifty percent, Captain!" "The environment looks as fake as possible, but I eventually came around to the idea that the movie is completely devoid of subtext." "No subtext to be found, sir!"

61. Mank (David Fincher)- About ten years ago, the Creative Screenwriting podcast spent an hour or so with James Vanderbilt, the writer of Zodiac and nothing else that comes close, as he relayed the creative paces that David Fincher pushed him through. Hundreds of drafts and years of collaborative work eventuated in the blueprint for Fincher's most exacting, personal film, which he didn't get a writing credit on only because he didn't seek one.

Something tells me that Fincher didn't ask for rewrites from his dead father. No matter what visuals and performances the director can coax from the script--and, to be clear, these are the worst visuals and performances of his career--they are limited by the muddy lightweight pages. There are plenty of pleasures, like the slippery election night montage or the shakily platonic relationship between Mank and Marion. But Fincher hadn't made a film in six years, and he came back serving someone else's master.

60. Tesla (Michael Almereyda)- "You live inside your head." "Doesn't everybody?"

As usual, Almereyda's deconstructions are invigorating. (No other moment can match the first time Eve Hewson's Anne fact-checks something with her anachronistic laptop.) But they don't add up to anything satisfying because Tesla himself is such an opaque figure. Driven by the whims of his curiosity without a clear finish line, the character gives Hawke something enigmatic to play as he reaches deep into a baritone. But he's too inward to lend himself to drama. Tesla feels of a piece with Almereyda's The Experimenter, and that's the one I would recommend.

59. Vitalina Varela (Pedro Costa)- I can't oversell how delicately beautiful this film is visually. There's a scene in which Vitalina lugs a lantern into a church, but we get several seconds of total darkness before that one light source carves through it and takes over part of the frame. Each composition is as intricate as it is overpowering, achieving a balance between stark and mannered.

That being said, most of the film is people entering or exiting doors. I felt very little of the haunting loss that I think I was supposed to.

58. The Rhythm Section (Reed Morano)- Call it the Timothy Hutton in The General's Daughter Corollary: If a name-actor isn't in the movie much but gets third billing, then, despite whom he sends the protagonist to kill, he is the Actual Bad Guy.

Even if the movie serves up a lot of cliche, the action and sound design are visceral. I would like to see more from Morano.

57. Red, White and Blue (Steve McQueen)- Well-made and heartfelt even if it goes step-for-step where you think it will.

Here's what I want to know though: In the academy training sequence, the police cadets have to subdue a "berserker"; that is, a wildman who swings at their riot gear with a sledgehammer. Then they get him under control, and he shakes their hands, like, "Good angle you took on me there, mate." Who is that guy and where is his movie? Is this full-time work? Is he a police officer or an independent contractor? What would happen if this exercise didn't go exactly as planned?

56. Wolfwalkers (Tomm Moore and Ross Stewart)- The visuals have an unfinished quality that reminded me of The Tale of Princess Kaguya--the center of a flame is undrawn white, and fog is just negative space. There's an underlying symmetry to the film, and its color palette changes with mood.

Narratively, it's pro forma and drawn-out. Was Riley in Inside Out the last animated protagonist to get two parents? My daughter stuck with it, but she needed a lot of context for the religious atmosphere of 17th century Ireland.

55. What She Said: The Art of Pauline Kael (Rob Garver)- The film does little more than one might expect; it's limited in the way that any visual medium is when trying to sum up a woman of letters. But as far as education for Kael's partnership with Warren Beatty or the idea of The New Yorker paying her for only six months out of the year, it was useful for me.

Although Garver isn't afraid to point to the work that made Kael divisive, it would have been nice to have one or two interview subjects who questioned her greatness, rather than the crew of Paulettes who, even when they do say something like, "Sometimes I radically disagreed with her," do it without being able to point to any specifics.

54. Beastie Boys Story (Spike Jonze)- As far as this Spike Jonze completist is concerned, this is more of a Powerpoint presentation than a movie, Beastie Boys Story still warmed my heart, making me want to fire up Paul's Boutique again and take more pictures of my buddies.

53. Tenet (Christopher Nolan)- Cool and cold, tantalizing and frustrating, loud and indistinct, Tenet comes close to Nolan self-parody, right down to the brutalist architecture and multiple characters styled like him. The setpieces grabbed me, I'll admit.

Nolan's previous film, which is maybe his best, was "about" a lot and just happened to play with time; Tenet is only about playing with time.

PRETTY GOOD MOVIES

52. Shithouse (Cooper Raiff)- "Death is ass."

There's such a thing as too naturalistic. If I wanted to hear how college freshmen really talked, I would hang out with college freshmen. But you have to take the good verisimilitude with the bad, and good verisimilitude is the mother's Pod Save America t-shirt.

There are some poignant moments (and a gonzo performance from Logan Miller) in this auspicious debut from Cooper Raiff, the writer/director/editor/star. But the second party sequence kills some of the momentum, and at a crucial point, the characters spell out some motivation that should have stayed implied.

51. Totally Under Control (Alex Gibney, Ophelia Harutyunyan, Suzanne Hillinger)- As dense and informative as any other Gibney documentary with the added flex of making it during the pandemic it is investigating.

But yeah, why am I watching this right now? I don't need more reasons to be angry with Trump, whom this film calmly eviscerates. The directors analyze Trump's narcissism first through his contradictions of medical expertise in order to protect the economy that could win him re-election. Then it takes aim at his hiring based on loyalty instead of experience. But you already knew that, which is the problem with the film, at least for now.

50. Happiest Season (Clea Duvall)- I was in the perfect mood to watch something this frothy and bouncy. Every secondary character receives a moment in the sun, and Daniel Levy gets a speech that kind of saves the film at a tipping point.

I must say though: I wanted to punch Harper in her stupid face. She is a terrible romantic partner, abandoning or betraying Abby throughout the film and dissembling her entire identity to everyone else in a way that seems absurd for a grown woman in 2020. Run away, Kristen. Perhaps with Aubrey Plaza, whom you have more chemistry with. But there I go shipping and aligning myself with characters, which only proves that this is an effective romantic comedy.

49. The Way Back (Gavin O’Connor)- Patient but misshapen, The Way Back does just enough to overcome the cliches that are sort of unavoidable considering the genre. (I can't get enough of the parent character who, for no good reason, doesn't take his son's success seriously. "Scholarship? What he's gotta do is put his nose in them books! That's why I don't go to his games. [continues moving boxes while not looking at the other character] Now if you'll excuse me while I wait four scenes before showing up at a game to prove that I'm proud of him after all...")

What the movie gets really right or really wrong in the details about coaching and addiction is a total crap-shoot. But maybe I've said too much already.

48. The Whistlers (Corneliu Porumboiu)- Porumboiu is a real artist who seems to be interpreting how much surveillance we're willing to acknowledge and accept, but I won't pretend to have understood much of the plot, the chapters or which are told out of order. Sometimes the structure works--the beguiling, contextless "high-class hooker" sequence--but I often wondered if the film was impenetrable in the way that Porumboiu wanted it to be or impenetrable in the way he didn't.

To tell you the truth, the experience kind of depressed me because I know that, in my younger days, this film is the type of thing that I would re-watch, possibly with the chronology righted, knowing that it is worth understanding fully. But I have two small children, and I'm exhausted all the time, and I kind of thought I should get some credit for still trying to catch up with Romanian crime movies in the first place.

47. Borat Subsequent Moviefilm (Jason Woliner)- I laughed too much to get overly critical, but the film is so episodic and contrived that it's kind of exhausting by the end--even though it's achieving most of its goals. Maybe Borat hasn't changed, but the way our citizens own their ugliness has.

46. First Cow (Kelly Reichardt)- Despite how little happens in the first forty minutes, First Cow is a thoughtful capitalism parable. Even though it takes about forty minutes to get going, the friendship between Cookie and King-Lu is natural and incisive. Like Reichardt's other work, the film's modest premise unfolds quite gracefully, except for in the first forty minutes, which are uneventful.

45. Les Miserables (Ladj Ly)- I loved parts of the film--the disorienting, claustrophobic opening or the quick look at the police officers' home lives, for example. But I'm not sure that it does anything very well. The needle the film tries to thread between realism and theater didn't gel for me. The ending, which is ambiguous in all of the wrong ways, chooses the theatrical. (If I'm being honest, my expectations were built up by Les Miserables' Jury Prize at Cannes, and it's a bit superficial to be in that company.)

If nothing else, it's always helpful to see how another country's worst case scenario in law enforcement would look pretty good over here.

44. Bad Education (Cory Finley)- The film feels too locked-down and small at the beginning, so intent on developing the protagonist neutrally that even the audience isn't aware of his secrets. So when he faces consequences for those secrets, there's a disconnect. Part of tragedy is seeing the doom coming, right?

When it opens up, however, it's empathetic and subtle, full of a dry irony that Finley is already specializing in after only one other feature. Geraldine Viswanathan and Allison Janney get across a lot of interiority that is not on the page.

43. The Trip to Greece (Michael Winterbottom)- By the fourth installment, you know whether you're on board with the franchise. If you're asking "Is this all there is?" to Coogan and Brydon's bickering and impressions as they're served exotic food in picturesque settings, then this one won't sway you. If you're asking "Is this all there is?" about life, like they are, then I don't need to convince you.

I will say that The Trip to Spain seemed like an enervated inflection point, at which the squad could have packed it in. The Trip to Greece proves that they probably need to keep doing this until one of them dies, which has been the subtext all along.

42. Feels Good Man (Arthur Jones)- This documentary centers on innocent artist Matt Furie's helplessness as his Pepe the Frog character gets hijacked by the alt-right. It gets the hard things right. It's able to, quite comprehensively, trace a connection from 4Chan's use of Pepe the Frog to Donald Trump's near-assuming of Pepe's ironic deniability. Director Arthur Jones seems to understand the machinations of the alt-right, and he articulates them chillingly.

The easy thing, making us connect to Furie, is less successful. The film spends way too much time setting up his story, and it makes him look naive as it pits him against Alex Jones in the final third. Still, the film is a quick ninety-two minutes, and the highs are pretty high.

41. The Old Guard (Gina Prince-Bythewood)- Some of the world-building and backstory are handled quite elegantly. The relationships actually do feel centuries old through specific details, and the immortal conceit comes together for an innovative final action sequence.

Visually and musically though, the film feels flat in a way that Prince-Bythewood's other films do not. I blame Netflix specs. KiKi Layne, who tanked If Beale Street Could Talk for me, nearly ruins this too with the child-actory way that she stresses one word per line. Especially in relief with one of our more effortless actresses, Layne is distracting.

40. The Trial of the Chicago 7 (Aaron Sorkin)- Whenever Sacha Baron Cohen's Abbie Hoffman opens his mouth, the other defendants brace themselves for his dismissive vulgarity. Even when it's going to hurt him, he can't help but shoot off at the mouth. Of course, he reveals his passionate and intelligent depths as the trial goes on. The character is the one that Sorkin's screenplay seems the most endeared to: In the same way that Hoffman can't help but be Hoffman, Sorkin can't help but be Sorkin. Maybe we don't need a speech there; maybe we don't have to stretch past two hours; maybe a bon mot diffuses the tension. But we know exactly what to expect by now. The film is relevant, astute, witty, benevolent, and, of course, in love with itself. There are a handful of scenes here that are perfect, so I feel bad for qualifying so much.

A smaller point: Daniel Pemberton has done great work in the past (Motherless Brooklyn, King Arthur, The Man from U.N.C.L.E.), but the first sequence is especially marred by his sterile soft-rock approach.

GOOD MOVIES

39. Time (Garrett Bradley)- The key to Time is that it provides very little context. Why the patriarch of this family is serving sixty years in prison is sort of besides the point philosophically. His wife and sons have to move on without him, and the tragedy baked into that fact eclipses any notion of what he "deserved." Feeling the weight of time as we switch back and forth between a kid talking about his first day of kindergarten and that same kid graduating from dentistry school is all the context we need. Time's presentation can be quite sumptuous: The drone shot of Angola makes its buildings look like crosses. Or is it X's?

At the same time, I need some context. When director Garrett Bradley withholds the reason Robert's in prison, and when she really withholds that Fox took a plea and served twelve years, you start to see the strings a bit. You could argue that knowing so little about why, all of a sudden, Robert can be on parole puts you into the same confused shoes as the family, but it feels manipulative to me. The film is preaching to the choir as far as criminal justice goes, which is fine, but I want it to have the confidence to tell its story above board.

38. Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets (Turner Ross and Bill Ross IV)- I have a barfly friend whom I see maybe once a year. When we first set up a time to meet, I kind of dread it and wonder what we'll have to talk about. Once we do get together, we trip on each other's words a bit, fumbling around with the rhythm of conversation that we mastered decades ago. He makes some kind of joke that could have been appropriate then but isn't now.

By the end of the day, hours later, we're hugging and maybe crying as we promise each other that we won't wait as long next time.

That's the exact same journey that I went on with this film.

37. Underwater (William Eubank)- Underwater is a story that you've seen before, but it's told with great confidence and economy. I looked up at twelve minutes and couldn't believe the whole table had been set. Kristen plays Ripley and projects a smart, benevolent poise.

36. The Lodge (Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala)- I prefer the grounded, manicured first half to the more fantastic second half. The craziness of the latter is only possible through the hard work of the former though. As with Fiala and Franz's previous feature, the visual rhymes and motifs get incorporated into the soup so carefully that you don't realize it until they overwhelm you in their bleak glory.

Small note: Alicia Silverstone, the male lead's first wife, and Riley Keough, his new partner, look sort of similar. I always think that's a nice note: "I could see how he would go for her."

35. Miss Americana (Lana Wilson)- I liked it when I saw it as a portrait of a person whose life is largely decided for her but is trying to carve out personal spaces within that hamster wheel. I loved it when I realized that describes most successful people in their twenties.

34. Sound of Metal (Darius Marder)- Riz Ahmed is showing up on all of the best performances of the year lists, but Sound of Metal isn't in anyone's top ten films of the year. That's about right. Ahmed's is a quiet, stubborn performance that I wish was in service of more than the straight line that we've seen before.

In two big scenes, there's this trick that Ahmed does, a piecing together of consequences with his eyes, as if he's moving through a flow chart in real time. In both cases, the character seems locked out and a little slower than he should be, which is, of course, why he's facing the consequences in the first place. To be charitable to a film that was a bit of a grind, it did make me notice a thing a guy did with his eyes.

33. Pieces of a Woman (Kornel Mundruczo)- Usually when I leave acting showcases like this, I imagine the film without the Oscar-baiting speeches, but this is a movie that specializes in speeches. Pieces of a Woman is being judged, deservedly so, by the harrowing twenty-minute take that opens the film, which is as indulgent as it is necessary. But if the unbroken take provides the "what," then the speeches provide the "why."

This is a film about reclaiming one's body when it rebels against you and when other people seek ownership of it. Without the Ellen Burstyn "lift your head" speech or the Vanessa Kirby show-stopper in the courtroom, I'm not sure any of that comes across.

I do think the film lets us off the hook a bit with the LaBoeuf character, in the sense that it gives us reasons to dislike him when it would be more compelling if he had done nothing wrong. Does his half-remembering of the White Stripes count as a speech?

32. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (George C. Wolfe)- This is such a play, not only in the locked-down location but also through nearly every storytelling convention: "Where are the two most interesting characters? Oh, running late? They'll enter separately in animated fashion?" But, to use the type of phrase that the characters might, "Don't hate the player; hate the game."

Perhaps the most theatrical note in this treatise on the commodification of expression is the way that, two or three times, the proceedings stop in their tracks for the piece to declare loudly what it's about. In one of those clear-outs, Boseman, who looks distractingly sick, delivers an unforgettable monologue that transports the audience into his character's fragile, haunted mind. He and Viola Davis are so good that the film sort of buckles under their weight, unsure of how to transition out of those spotlight moments and pretend that the story can start back up. Whatever they're doing is more interesting than what's being achieved overall.

31. Another Round (Thomas Vinterberg)- It's definitely the film that Vinterberg wanted to make, but despite what I think is a quietly shattering performance from Mikkelsen, Another Round moves in a bit too much of a straight line to grab me fully. The joyous final minutes hint at where it could have gone, as do pockets of Vinterberg's filmography, which seems newly tethered to realism in a way that I don't like. The best sequences are the wildest ones, like the uproarious trip to the grocery store for fresh cod, so I don't know why so much of it takes place in tiny hallways at magic hour. I give the inevitable American remake* permission to use these notes.

*- Just spitballing here. Martin: Will Ferrell, Nikolaj (Nick): Ben Stiller, Tommy: Owen Wilson, Peter: Craig Robinson

30. The Invisible Man (Leigh Whannell)- Exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I needed.

I think a less conclusive finale would have been better, but what a model of high-concept escalation. This is the movie people convinced me Whannell's Upgrade was.

29. On the Rocks (Sofia Coppola)- Slight until the Mexican sojourn, which expands the scope and makes the film even more psychosexual than before. At times it feels as if Coppola is actively simplifying, rather than diving into the race and privilege questions that the Murray character all but demands.

As for Murray, is the film 50% worse without him? 70%? I don't know if you can run in supporting categories if you're the whole reason the film exists.

28. Mangrove (Steve McQueen)- The first part of the film seemed repetitive and broad to me. But once it settled in as a courtroom drama, the characterization became more shaded, and the filmmaking itself seemed more fluid. I ended up being quite outraged and inspired.

27. Shirley (Josephine Decker)- Josephine Decker emerges as a real stylist here, changing her foggy, impressionistic approach not one bit with a little more budget. Period piece and established actors be damned--this is still as much of a reeling fever dream as Madeline's Madeline. Both pieces are a bit too repetitive and nasty for my taste, but I respect the technique.

Here's my mandatory "Elisabeth Moss is the best" paragraph. While watching her performance as Shirley Jackson, I thought about her most famous role as Peggy on Mad Men, whose inertia and need to prove herself tied her into confidence knots. Shirley is almost the opposite: paralyzed by her worldview, certain of her talent, rejecting any empathy. If Moss can inhabit both characters so convincingly, she can do anything.

26. An American Pickle (Brandon Trost)- An American Pickle is the rare comedy that could actually use five or ten extra minutes, but it's a surprisingly heartfelt and wholesome stretch for Rogen, who is earnest in the lead roles.

25. The King of Staten Island (Judd Apatow)- At two hours and fifteen minutes, The King of Staten Island is probably the first Judd Apatow film that feels like the exact right length. For example, the baggy date scene between a gracious Bill Burr and a faux-dowdy Marisa Tomei is essential, the sort of widening of perspective that something like Trainwreck was missing.

It's Pete Davidson's movie, however, and though he has never been my cup of tea, I think he's actually quite powerful in his quiet moments. The movie probes some rare territory--a mentally ill man's suspicion that he is unlovable, a family's strategic myth-making out of respect for the dead. And when Davidson shows up at the firehouse an hour and fifteen minutes in, it feels as if we've built to a last resort.

24. Swallow (Carlo Mirabella-Davis)- The tricky part of this film is communicating Hunter's despair, letting her isolation mount, but still keeping her opaque. It takes a lot of visual discipline to do that, and Claudio Mirabella-Davis is up to the task. This ends up being a much more sympathetic, expressive movie than the plot description might suggest.

(In the tie dispute, Hunter and Richie are both wrong. That type of silk--I couldn't tell how pebbled it was, but it's probably a barathea weave-- shouldn't be ironed directly, but it doesn't have to be steamed. On a low setting, you could iron the back of the tie and be fine.)

23. The Vast of Night (Andrew Patterson)- I wanted a bit more "there" there; The film goes exactly where I thought it would, and there isn't enough humor for my taste. (The predictability might be a feature, not a bug, since the film is positioned as an episode of a well-worn Twilight Zone-esque show.)

But from a directorial standpoint, this is quite a promising debut. Patterson knows when to lock down or use silence--he even cuts to black to force us to listen more closely to a monologue. But he also knows when to fill the silence. There's a minute or so when Everett is spooling tape, and he and Fay make small talk about their hopes for the future, developing the characters' personalities in what could have been just mechanics. It's also a refreshingly earnest film. No one is winking at the '50s setting.

I'm tempted to write, "If Andrew Patterson can make this with $1 million, just imagine what he can do with $30 million." But maybe people like Shane Carruth have taught us that Patterson is better off pinching pennies in Texas and following his own muse.

22. Martin Eden (Pietro Marcello)- At first this film, adapted from a picaresque novel by Jack London, seemed as if it was hitting the marks of the genre. "He's going from job to job and meeting dudes who are shaping his worldview now." But the film, shot in lustrous Super 16, won me over as it owned the trappings of this type of story, forming a character who is a product of his environment even as he transcends it. By the end, I really felt the weight of time.

You want to talk about something that works better in novels than films though? When a passionate, independent protagonist insists that a woman is the love of his life, despite the fact that she's whatever Italians call a wet blanket. She's rich, but Martin doesn't care about her money. He hates her family and friends, and she refuses to accept him or his life pursuits. She's pretty but not even as pretty as the waitress they discuss. Tell me what I'm missing here. There's archetype, and there's incoherence.

21. Bacurau (Kleber Mendonca Filho and Juliano Dornelles)- Certain images from this adventurous film will stick with me, but I got worn out after the hard reset halfway through. As entranced as I was by the mystery of the first half, I think this blood-soaked ensemble is better at asking questions than it is at answering them.

20. Let Them All Talk (Steven Soderbergh)- The initial appeal of this movie might be "Look at these wonderful actresses in their seventies getting a movie all to themselves." And the film is an interesting portrait of ladies taking stock of relationships that have spanned decades. But Soderbergh and Eisenberg handle the twentysomething Lucas Hedges character with the same openness and empathy. His early reasoning for going on the trip is that he wants to learn from older women, and Hedges nails the puppy-dog quality of a young man who would believe that. Especially in the scenes of aspirational romance, he's sweet and earnest as he brushes his hair out of his face.

Streep plays Alice Hughes, a serious author of literary fiction, and she crosses paths with Kelvin Kranz, a grinder of airport thrillers. In all of the right ways, Let Them All Talk toes the line between those two stances as an entertaining, jaunty experiment that also shoulders subtextual weight. If nothing else, it's easy to see why a cruise ship's counterfeit opulence, its straight lines at a lean, would be visually engaging to Soderbergh. You can't have a return to form if your form is constantly evolving.

19. Dick Johnson Is Dead (Kirsten Johnson)- Understandably, I don't find the subject as interesting as his own daughter does, and large swaths of this film are unsure of what they're trying to say. But that's sort of the point, and the active wrestling that the film engages in with death ultimately pays off in a transcendent moment. The jaw-dropping ending is something that only non-fiction film can achieve, and Johnson's whole career is about the search for that sort of serendipity.

18. Da 5 Bloods (Spike Lee)- Delroy Lindo is a live-wire, but his character is the only one of the principals who is examined with the psychological depth I was hoping for. The first half, with all of its present-tense flourishes, promises more than the gunfights of the second half can deliver. When the film is cooking though, it's chock full of surprises, provocations, and pride.

17. Never Rarely Sometimes Always (Eliza Hittmann)- Very quickly, Eliza Hittmann has established herself as an astute, empathetic director with an eye for discovering new talent. I hope that she gets to make fifty more movies in which she objectively follows laconic young people. But I wanted to like this one more than I did. The approach is so neutral that it's almost flat to me, lacking the arc and catharsis of her previous film, Beach Rats. I still appreciate her restraint though.

GREAT MOVIES

16. Young Ahmed (Jean-Pierre Dardenne and Luc Dardenne)- I don't think the Dardennes have made a bad movie yet, and I'm glad they turned away from the slight genre dipping of The Unknown Girl, the closest to bad that they got. Young Ahmed is a lean, daring return to form.

Instead of following an average person, as they normally do, the Dardenne Brothers follow an extremist, and the objectivity that usually generates pathos now serves to present ambiguity. Ahmed says that he is changing, that he regrets his actions, but we never know how much of his stance is a put-on. I found myself wanting him to reform, more involved than I usually am in these slices of life. Part of it is that Idir Ben Addi looks like such a normal, young kid, and the Ahmed character has most of the qualities that we say we want in young people: principles, commitment, self-worth, reflection. So it's that much more destructive when those qualities are used against him and against his fellow man.

15. World of Tomorrow Episode Three: The Absent Destinations of David Prime (Don Hertzfeldt)- My dad, a man whom I love but will never understand, has dismissed modern music before by claiming that there are only so many combinations of chords. To him, it's almost impossible to do something new. Of course, this is the type of thing that an uncreative person would say--a person not only incapable of hearing the chords that combine notes but also unwilling to hear the space between the notes. (And obviously, that's the take of a person who doesn't understand that, originality be damned, some people just have to create.)

Anyway, that attitude creeps into my own thinking more than I would like, but then I watch something as wholly original as World of Tomorrow Episode Three. The series has always been a way to pile sci-fi ideas on top of each other to prove the essential truths of being and loving. And this one, even though it achieves less of a sense of yearning than its predecessor, offers even more devices to chew on. Take, for example, the idea that Emily sends her message from the future, so David's primitive technology can barely handle it. In order to move forward with its sophistication, he has to delete any extraneous skills for the sake of computer memory. So out of trust for this person who loves him, he has to weigh whether his own breathing or walking can be uninstalled as a sacrifice for her. I thought that we might have been done describing love, but there it is, a new metaphor. Mixing futurism with stick figures to get at the most pure drive possible gave us something new. It's called art, Dad.

14. On the Record (Kirby Dick and Amy Ziering)- We don't call subjects of documentaries "stars" for obvious reasons, but Drew Dixon kind of is one. Her honesty and wisdom tell a complete story of the #MeToo movement. Kirby Dick and Amy Ziering take their time developing her background at first, not because we need to "gain sympathy" or "establish credibility" for a victim of sexual abuse, but because showing her talent and enthusiasm for hip-hop A&R makes it that much more tragic when her passion is extinguished. Hell, I just like the woman, so spending a half-hour on her rise was pleasurable in and of itself.

This is a gut-wrenching, fearless entry in what is becoming Dick and Ziering's raison d'etre, but its greatest quality is Dixon's composed reflection. She helped to establish a pattern of Russell Simmons's behavior, but she explains what happened to her in ways I had never heard before.

13. David Byrne’s American Utopia (Spike Lee)- I'm often impressed by the achievements that puzzle me: How did they pull that off? But I know exactly how David Byrne pulled off the impish but direct precision of American Utopia: a lot of hard work.

I can't blame Spike Lee for stealing a page from Demme's Stop Making Sense: He denies us a close-up of any audience members until two-thirds of the way through, when we get someone in absolute rapture.

12. One Night in Miami... (Regina King)- We've all cringed when a person of color is put into the position of speaking on behalf of his or her entire race. But the characters in One Night in Miami... live in that condition all the time and are constantly negotiating it. As Black public figures in 1964, they know that the consequences of their actions are different, bigger, than everyone else's. The charged conversations between Malcolm X and Sam Cooke are not about whether they can live normal lives. They're way past that. The stakes are closer to Sam Cooke arguing that his life's purpose aligns with the protection and elevation of African-Americans while Malcolm X argues that those pursuits should be the same thing. Late in the movie, Cassius Clay leaves the other men, a private conversation, to talk to reporters, a public conversation. But the film argues that everything these men do is always already public. They're the most powerful African-Americans in the country, but their lives are not their own. Or not only their own.

It's true that the first act has the clunkiness and artifice of a TV movie, but once the film settles into the motel room location and lets the characters feed off one another, it's gripping. It's kind of unfair for a movie to get this many scenes of Leslie Odom Jr. singing, but I'll take it.

11. Saint Frances (Alex Thompson)- Rilke wrote, "Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us." The characters' behavior in Saint Frances--all of these fully formed characters' behavior--made me think of that quotation. When they lash out at one another, even at their nastiest, the viewer has a window into how they're expressing pain they can't verbalize. The film is uneven in its subtlety, but it's a real showcase for screenwriter and star Kelly O'Sullivan, who is unflinching and dynamic in one of the best performances of the year. Somebody give her some of the attention we gave to Zach Braff for God's sake.

10. Boys State (Jesse Moss and Amanda McBaine)- This documentary is kind of a miracle from a logistical standpoint. From casting interviews beforehand, lots of editing afterwards, or sly note-taking once the conference began, McBaine and Moss happened to select the four principals who mattered the most at the convention, then found them in rooms full of dudes wearing the same tucked-in t-shirt. By the way, all of the action took place over the course of one week, and by definition, the important events are carved in half.

To call Boys State a microcosm of American politics is incorrect. These guys are forming platforms and voting in elections. What they're doing is American politics, so when they make the same compromises and mistakes that active politicians do, it produces dread and disappointment. So many of the boys are mimicking the political theater that they see on TV, and that sweaty sort of performance is going to make a Billy Mitchell out of this kid Ben Feinstein, and we'll be forced to reckon with how much we allow him to evolve as a person. This film is so precise, but what it proves is undeniably messy. Luckily, some of these seventeen-year-olds usher in hope for us all.

If nothing else, the film reveals the level to which we're all speaking in code.

9. The Nest (Sean Durkin)- In the first ten minutes or so of The Nest, the only real happy minutes, father and son are playing soccer in their quaint backyard, and the father cheats to score on a children's net before sliding on the grass to rub in his victory. An hour later, the son kicks the ball around by himself near a regulation goal on the family's massive property. The contrast is stark and obvious, as is the symbolism of the dead horse, but that doesn't mean it's not visually powerful or resonant.

Like Sean Durkin's earlier film, Martha Marcy May Marlene, the whole of The Nest is told with detail of novelistic scope and an elevation of the moment. A snippet of radio that mentions Ronald Reagan sets the time period, rather than a dateline. One kid saying "Thanks, Dad" and another kid saying, "Thanks, Rory" establishes a stepchild more elegantly than any other exposition might.

But this is also a movie that does not hide what it means. Characters usually say exactly what is on their minds, and motivations are always clear. For example, Allison smokes like a chimney, so her daughter's way of acting out is leaving butts on the window sill for her mother to find. (And mother and daughter both definitely "act out" their feelings.) On the other hand, Ben, Rory's biological son, is the character least like him, so these relationships aren't too directly parallel. Regardless, Durkin uses these trajectories to cast a pall of familial doom.

8. Sorry We Missed You (Sean Durkin)- Another precisely calibrated empathy machine from Ken Loach. The overwhelmed matriarch, Abby, is a caretaker, and she has to break up a Saturday dinner to rescue one of her clients, who wet herself because no one came to help her to the bathroom. The lady is embarrassed, and Abby calms her down by saying, "You mean more to me than you know." We know enough about Abby's circumstances to realize that it's sort of a lie, but it's a beautiful lie, told by a person who cares deeply but is not cared for.

Loach's central point is that the health of a family, something we think of as immutable and timeless, is directly dependent upon the modern industry that we use to destroy ourselves. He doesn't have to be "proven" relevant, and he didn't plan for Covid-19 to point to the fragility of the gig economy, but when you're right, you're right.

7. Lovers Rock (Steve McQueen)- swear to you I thought: "This is an impeccable depiction of a great house party. The only thing it's missing is the volatile dude who scares away all the girls." And then the volatile dude who scares away all the girls shows up.

In a year short on magic, there are two or three transcendent moments, but none of them can equal the whole crowd singing along to "Silly Games" way after the song has ended. Nothing else crystallizes the film's note of celebration: of music, of community, of safe spaces, of Black skin. I remember moments like that at house parties, and like all celebrations, they eventually make me sad.

6. Crip Camp: A Disability Revolution (Nicole Newnham and James Lebrecht)- I held off on this movie because I thought that I knew what it was. The setup was what I expected: A summer camp for the disabled in the late '60s takes on the spirit of the time and becomes a haven for people who have not felt agency, self-worth, or community anywhere else. But that's the right-place-right-time start of a story that takes these figures into the '80s as they fight for their rights.

If you're anything like my dumb ass, you know about 504 accommodations from the line on a college syllabus that promises equal treatment. If 2020 has taught us anything though, it's that rights are seized, not given, and this is the inspiring story of people who unified to demand what they deserved. Judy Heumann is a civil rights giant, but I'm ashamed to say I didn't know who she was before this film. If it were just a history lesson that wasn't taught in school, Crip Camp would still be valuable, but it's way more than that.

5. Palm Springs (Max Barbakow)- When explaining what is happening to them, Andy Samberg's Nyles twirls his hand at Cristin Milioti's Sara and says, "It's one of those infinite time-loop scenarios." Yeah, one of those. Armed with only a handful of fictional examples, she and the audience know exactly what he means, and the continually inventive screenplay by Andy Siara doesn't have to do any more explaining. In record time, the film accelerates into its premise, involves her, and sets up the conflict while avoiding the claustrophobia of even Groundhog Day. That economy is the strength that allows it to be as funny as it is. By being thrifty with the setup, the savings can go to, say, the couple crashing a plane into a fiery heap with no consequences.

In some accidental ways, this is, of course, a quarantine romance as well. Nyles and Sara frustratingly navigate the tedious wedding as if they are play-acting--which they sort of are--then they push through that sameness to grow for each other, realizing that dependency is not weakness. The best relationships are doing the same thing right now.

Although pointedly superficial--part of the point of why the couple is such a match--and secular--I think the notion of an afterlife would come up at least once--Palm Springs earns the sincerity that it gets around to. And for a movie ironic enough to have a character beg to be impaled so that he doesn't have to sit in traffic, that's no small feat.

4. The Assistant (Kitty Green)- A wonder of Bressonian objectivity and rich observation, The Assistant is the rare film that deals exclusively with emotional depth while not once explaining any emotions. One at a time, the scrape of the Kleenex box might not be so grating, the long hallway trek to the delivery guy might not be so tiring, but this movie gets at the details of how a job can destroy you in ways that add up until you can't even explain them.

3. Promising Young Woman (Emerald Fennell)- In her most incendiary and modern role, Carey Mulligan plays Cassie, which is short for Cassandra, that figure doomed to tell truths that no one else believes. The web-belted boogeyman who ruined her life is Al, short for Alexander, another Greek who is known for his conquests. The revenge story being told here--funny in its darkest moments, dark in its funniest moments--is tight on its surface levels, but it feels as if it's telling a story more archetypal and expansive than that too.

An exciting feature debut for its writer-director Emerald Fennell, the film goes wherever it dares. Its hero has a clear purpose, and it's not surprising that the script is willing to extinguish her anger halfway through. What is surprising is the way it renews and muddies her purpose as she comes into contact with half-a-dozen brilliant one- or two-scene performances. (Do you think Alfred Molina can pull off a lawyer who hates himself so much that he can't sleep? You would be right.)

Promising Young Woman delivers as an interrogation of double standards and rape culture, but in quiet ways it's also about our outsized trust in professionals and the notion that some trauma cannot be overcome.

INSTANT CLASSICS

2. Soul (Pete Docter)- When Pete Docter's Up came out, it represented a sort of coronation for Pixar: This was the one that adults could like unabashedly. The one with wordless sequences and dead children and Ed Asner in the lead. But watching it again this week with my daughter, I was surprised by how high-concept and cloying it could be. We choose not to remember the middle part with the goofy dog stuff.

Soul is what Up was supposed to be: honest, mature, stirring. And I don't mean to imply that a family film shouldn't make any concessions to children. But Soul, down to the title, never compromises its own ambition. Besides Coco, it's probably the most credible character study that Pixar has ever made, with all of Joe's growth earned the hard way. Besides Inside Out, it's probably the wittiest comedy that Pixar has ever made, bursting with unforced energy.

There's a twitter fascination going around about Dez, the pigeon-figured barber character whose scene has people gushing, "Crush my windpipe, king" or whatever. Maybe that's what twitter does now, but no one fantasized about any characters in Up. And I count that as progress.

1. I’m Thinking of Ending Things (Charlie Kaufman)- After hearing that our name-shifting protagonist moonlights as an artist, a no-nonsense David Thewlis offers, "I hope you're not an abstract artist." He prefers "paintings that look like photographs" over non-representational mumbo-jumbo. And as Jessie Buckley squirms to try to think of a polite way to talk back, you can tell that Charlie Kaufman has been in the crosshairs of this same conversation. This morose, scary, inscrutable, expressionist rumination is not what the Netflix description says it is at all, and it's going to bother nice people looking for a fun night in. Thank God.

The story goes that Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, when constructing Raiders of the Lost Ark, sought to craft a movie that was "only the good parts" with little of the clunky setup that distracted from action. What we have here is a Charlie Kaufman movie with only the Charlie Kaufman moments, less interested than ever before at holding one's hand. The biting humor is here, sometimes aimed at philistines like the David Thewlis character above, sometimes at the niceties that we insist upon. The lonely horror of everyday life is here, in the form of missed calls from oneself or the interruption of an inner monologue. Of course, communicating the overwhelming crush of time, both unknowable and familiar, is the raison d'etre.

A new pet motif seems to be the way that we don't even own our own knowledge. The Young Woman recites "Bonedog" by Eva H.D., which she claims/thinks she wrote, only to find Jake's book open to that page, next to a Pauline Kael book that contains a Woman Under the Influence review that she seems to have internalized later. When Jake muses about Wordsworth's "Lucy Poems," it starts as a way to pass the time, then it becomes a way to lord his education over her, then it becomes a compliment because the subject resembles her, then it becomes a way to let her know that, in the grand scheme of things, she isn't that special at all. This film jerks the viewer through a similar wintry cycle and leaves him with his own thoughts. It's not a pretty picture, but it doesn't look like anything else.

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crimsoncityhq · 3 years

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While the night is far from quiet, what with all of the costumed patrons milling about the lobby and rubbing elbows on a too-crowded bench, it is peaceful. It’s been at least an hour of carefree mingling, and the only inconvenience anyone has found thus far is the guy dressed as H.H. Holmes being a little too method in his acting, stalking around amongst the crowd before disappearing the moment you see his blur in your periphery. Those who haven’t indulged in the open bar serving jello shots downstairs have likely opted to wait until after their tour through the undoubtedly haunted house, while others nurse their flasks and plead with whatever cosmic force they believe ( or don’t believe ) in that the line will shuffle a touch more quickly so they can black out for the night.

Fortunately for the impatient, a handful of groups are called to enter their respective rooms, though instead of enjoying the night with the ones who came here on their arms, they’re suited with a handful of strangers, acquaintances, and enemies. Now isn’t the time to brandish your weapons—let’s call it a truce for Halloween. Each group is assigned a specific room, and, satisfied with their groupings or not, they press forward. At first glance, no room looks any different than what you’d expect, maybe more void of furniture and spooky decor than ideal for the holiday which revolves around that sort of thing, but for once, it appears the night may go smoothly. Until the doors lock behind them.

Part II of the Halloween Murder Castle event has begun ! Your characters are assigned to a group, which then are assigned to rooms. It is up to you and your groupmates how they will survive the obstacles hindering the exit—but be warned; there’s an imposter in your midst. Someone in your group, who agreed to what they now realize is a test of their wit and strength, may opt to take the selfish way out and preserve their own life over the lives of their teammates. Imposters, determine whether you will prioritize yourself or your group to escape each room. Good luck !

This event will last until 9 PM EST on NOVEMBER 3RD, 2020. Under the cut are your group assignments, plus room assignments. PLEASE collaborate with your groupmates to determine how your characters will solve their rooms and make their escape. If you have any questions, always feel free to reach out ! Happy Halloween !

GROUPS

GROUP #1: Alejandra Ruiz, Beau Griveaud, Marie-Anne Beaulieu, and Wren Lucas are in ROOM 19. (BARBED)

GROUP #2: Nova Deveraux, Orion Andersen, Ivy Ivashkov, and Rahi Kumar are in ROOM 24. (CHALICE)

GROUP #3: Addison McKinnley,Veronica Pierce, Maite DeLeon, Blythe Sweetwine are in ROOM 7. (BANSHEE)

GROUP #4: Aries “Rhys” Rigsby, Cassidy Faust, Barnaby Eaton, Vitomir Kipriyanov are in ROOM 12. (DESCENT)

GROUP #5: Charlotte “Charlie” Arden, Marissa Atkinson, Levi Bohan, and Jean Jacque Baptiste De Romanet are in ROOM 20. (CLOSURE)

GROUP #6: Armande Ivashkov, Jessika Delmonico, and Josephine “Josie” Leon are in ROOM 30. (TUNDRA)

GROUP #7: Oakley Butler, Birdie Mendoza, Harlow Dumas, and Andrew “Drew”Whitemore are in ROOM 16. (ELEVATOR)

GROUP #8: Zoe Washington, Jesse Valencia, Logan Walsh, and Effie Faust in ROOM 4. (TUNDRA)

GROUP #9: Katarina Vasile, Saskia Vasile, Genevieve Basset, Callan Quinn in ROOM 14. (VOLTAGE)

GROUP #10: Taron Lynch, Rosalie Halliday, Tyson Kane, and Andrea “Andy” Perez are in ROOM 18. (MIRRORS)

GROUP #11: Sutton James, Juno Song, Oisin Donnelly, and Violet Madden are in ROOM 11. (CLOSURE)

GROUP #12: Billie Washington, Leo Vasile, Erin Cerci, and Milo Arrington are in ROOM 15. (BARBED)

GROUP #13: Liam Walsh, Audric Noire, Monika Adler, and Angelo Faust are in ROOM 10. (EXHALE)

GROUP #14: Braden Kahale, Gwen Arnolds, and Audrey Rousseau are in ROOM 5. (OVEN)

GROUP #15: Wyatt Leon, Ariela Leon, Fabian Drake Kalashnyk, and Milicent Washington are in ROOM 31. (KEY)

GROUP #16: Maisie Kane, Linus Arnolds, Sasha Ivanov, and Lev Vasile are in ROOM 17. (TAR)

GROUP #17: Lorelai Faust, Oliver Faust, Anastasia Sahin, and Glenda Ray are in ROOM 8. (FLASH )

GROUP #18: Konstantin Vasile, Fletcher Hargrave, Igor Vasile, and Cecilia Cavendish are in ROOM 23. (VOLTAGE)

GROUP #19: Abel Washington, Zane Washington, Holden Mercer, and Nadia James are in ROOM 25. (OCEAN)

GROUP #20: Autumn Dawson , Olivia Madden, and Auron Wright are in ROOM 21. (VIEW)

GROUP #21: Anatayla Vasile, Killian Walsh, Hana Faust, and Caoilainn “Callie” Walsh are in ROOM 2. (OCEAN)

GROUP #22: Atticus Mercer, Carrigan Connolly, Viktoriya Vasile, and Alejandro ‘Jano’ Solano are in ROOM 22. (HOURGLASS)

GROUP #23: Catriona O’Shea, Joey O’Shea, Lee Malkovich, and Lavrentii ‘Lav’ Vasile are in ROOM 3. (VIEW)

GROUP #24: Lincoln Dawson, Ira Evans, Rosalia Leon, and Amara Ricci are in ROOM 27. (EXHALE)

GROUP #25: Letitia ‘Tia’ Valentine, Teddy Cohen, Layla Jiminez, and Mikhail Morosov are in ROOM 1. (PIT)

GROUP #26: Noah Etkin, Blair Faust, Stefano Vittori, and Mathias Attano are in ROOM 6. (HOURGLASS)

GROUP #27: Callum James, Faith Williams, and Dominika Romanov are in ROOM 26. (MIRRORS)

GROUP #28: Jackson Martson, Anton Volkov, Lada Antonovna, and Arlo Flores are in ROOM 29. (TAR)

GROUP #29: Diamond Washington, Darren Murphy, Zedekiah “Zed” Vasile, and Esmeray Demir are in ROOM 9. (CHALICE)

GROUP #30: David Sharpe and Edith Cohen are in ROOM 28. (BANSHEE)

GROUP #31: Caroline Shepherd, Nicholas Krieger, Christine Lin, and Constansia Fournier are in ROOM 13. (KEY)

ROOMS

ROOM 1 — THE PIT

SUMMARY: You and your fellow group members enter the room, and it seems relatively normal, if not a touch boring. The walls are a sleek chrome with a matching floor and ceiling, and the only thing that stands out is an ornate door opposite from—and identical to—the one you entered through. You try it, but it doesn’t open, and the door you just came through suddenly decides not to open either. Then, you feel the tremble, and the center of the floor begins to open up into an abyss lined with jagged glass, and metal, and everything else that screams tetanus. In the center of the new floor is a pedestal, and atop the pedestal is a key—surely the way out. CHALLENGE: You and your teammates must find a way to retrieve the key before the floor fully gives way and engulfs all of you. How you do this is up to your own discretion, but you’d better count on some injuries.

ROOM 2 — THE OCEAN

SUMMARY: You and your fellow group members enter the room, which is devoid of any furniture, and, well, much of anything, really, besides what looks like a hatch on the ceiling. Oddly enough, the walls look like glass—or some version of it—though they’re not as breakable as they seem when you rap your knuckles against them. For the first minute or so, you’re confused, but then a pipe creaks somewhere overhead, and water bubbles up from under your feet. You all realize it at once—the room is filling up fast, and the door you entered through is deadbolted. You’re trapped in here. CHALLENGE: Find a way out of the room before the water reaches the ceiling. You’ll only have about twenty-five minutes to determine which part of what wall is breakable enough to escape through. Alternatively, you can test your swimming skills—and gamble with what’s left of your oxygen—to get the hatch on the ceiling open. It will take all of you, so no matter your allegiance, it’s imperative you work together.

ROOM 3 — THE VIEW

SUMMARY: This room is not what it appears—it’s decorated floor-to-ceiling like the streets of France, complete with a gaudy painting of the Eiffel Tower, street lamps and mannequins in period clothing. It’s beautiful, and a far cry from scary—that is, until you start to lose your breath standing in place. At first you wonder what’s wrong with you, until you realize your partner’s breath is becoming ragged and wheezy, too. It strikes you a second too late; the oxygen is being removed from this room little by little, and suddenly the breathtaking view makes sense. ( What a horrible pun, eh ? ) You’ll suffocate if you stay in here any longer, so it’s up to you and the rest of your teammates to find the exit. CHALLENGE: The door you entered through is locked, so weave your way through the “street” to find the other exit. You should know it’s locked, too, so you’ll have to work together to find the key. It could be in a flower pot, it could be inside the skull of a mannequin—but if you don’t find it, this cheap version of Paris is the last thing you’ll ever see.

ROOM 4 — THE TUNDRA

SUMMARY: The moment you cross the threshold of this room, you feel the drop in temperature, and the door falls shut behind you. The moment you turn for it, you realize it’s jammed, and your only choice is to get comfortable. You look around, your eyes wandering across the painting hung ceiling-to-floor on the walls and wonder how many of them are watching you back. For the minute or so you stand in place, you feel the temperature get somehow lower. Those around you seem to notice the same thing, and the epiphany strikes at once—someone is freezing you into the room. CHALLENGE: There is a locked door on the opposite wall that is surely your exit. Collaborate with your teammates to find the key inside the paintings before the room freezes over. You only have fifteen or so minutes to leave the room.

ROOM 5 — THE OVEN

SUMMARY: The room you enter with your teammates is an obnoxious white, and the lights seem a little too bright for anyone’s liking. It’s also warm enough to have anyone shedding an extra layer, and the longer you explore the room the hotter it becomes, as if you’re baking alive. The realization hits you all at the same time, but the exit at the end of the room won’t budge. A voice over the speaker above you—was that there before ?—urges you to sacrifice one member to the room. CHALLENGE: You must decide who will stay behind so the others can escape. If you choose the correct imposter, you may leave the room, thus sacrificing the imposter to the room.

ROOM 6 — THE HOURGLASS

SUMMARY: This room looks relatively average at first—you toddle in a couple of steps, and it doesn’t seem particularly out of the ordinary, save for the junk pile stationed in the corner of the room. You think it might be a prop closet, but when you feel the first trickle of—is that sand ?—sweep over you, there’s suddenly a weight in your gut. The room is filling up with it, and in the center of the junk pile sits an hourglass that dwindles down in sync. You’ll be buried in the next twenty minutes if you don’t find a way to escape. CHALLENGE: You turn to the door you just entered through and realize there’s a keypad you may use to unlock it from the inside. Now all you have to do is find the four-digit code ( and the order in which to input it ) separately hidden in the junk pile to escape. Just don’t take too long.

ROOM 7 — THE BANSHEE

SUMMARY: Nothing seems out of the ordinary in this room, save for the padded walls and the giant, creepy painting of the man of the hour—H.H. Holmes—on the opposite side of the entrance. You get a brief look at the room, the four buttons on the floor, the fine china lining the shelves on the walls, before the room goes dark. The floor trembles beneath your feet, and sure, it’s a little campy with the filtered-in gunfire, but then the sounds get louder, and louder, and louder. You can hardly listen to it without physically wincing, and there’s no doubt the looming possibility of hearing damage, not to mention loss. You can practically feel your eardrums beginning to drip—you have to get out of here. CHALLENGE: You have to escape the room to avoid causing irreparable damage by searching with your teammates in the dark for the buttons you saw earlier. Find all four buttons, then press them simultaneously to pop open the painting, which doubles as an exit. If you don’t get out, someone will get you out, but they’ll be far less welcoming than a few loud noises.

ROOM 8 — THE FLASH

SUMMARY: In this room, all of the empty walls are a stark white, almost hard to look at when you first enter. The lights above your head are bright enough to radiate heat, and you can already see colors swirling in your vision. The floor pulses in a pattern, lighting up red like a guide to the exit on the other side of the room. Before you take the first step, the lights flash brighter, so much so the whole room melts into a blur in front of your eyes. You take a moment to get your bearings, then blink away the moisture spawning at your lash line. When you open your eyes again, the room is back to normal, but the pattern on the floor has changed. CHALLENGE: You and your teammates must navigate the floor tiles before the room resets. If you simply approach the door, it will remain locked, and the puzzle will simply reset. The longer you’re in this room and exposing yourself to the flashes, the more likely you are to leave with permanent damage to your retinas. Also, you’d better work quickly, because that ticking sound underneath your shoes probably isn’t a good sign.

ROOM 9 — THE CHALICE

SUMMARY: This room, compared to its predecessors, is pretty tame—the four walls are a dark velvet with a golden table in the center. On the table are a set of four chalices, each more ornate than the last. The voice that plays on a loop overhead establishes the rules; choose who will drink from which chalice, but be warned: three of them are poisoned, and only one holds an antidote. Determine who will be sacrificed to which chalice. To escape this room, everyone must take a drink. CHALLENGE: There’s no way around it—no one is leaving this room until each chalice is sampled. Each member will have to sample their assigned chalice, and only time will tell who has the antidote. There is a possibility of exiting the room alive if the one left standing can evenly portion the antidote.

ROOM 10 — THE EXHALE

SUMMARY: As you enter the room, you instantly recognize the theme of charred remains, with a splintered set of dining chairs and the matching table, peeling wallpaper, and singed curtains decorating the walls that wrap around you. It even smells like smoke in here, and the longer you wander around the still smoking debris, the more saturated the atmosphere becomes. Soon, you and the other occupants of the room begin to cough, and you realize it’s not your imagination that’s making the air thicker—it’s the vent leaking a grey cloud into the room. CHALLENGE: The door at the far end of the room must be opened with a code, and you must find the code scattered among the debris. You’ll find four numbers in total stamped on various items—input the numbers in the correct order to escape the room.

ROOM 11 — THE CLOSURE

SUMMARY: You and your group step through the door into a room bare of anything as far as the eyes can see. After everyone is inside the door locks behind you and the small bits of confetti fall from the ceiling as a warm distraction. You missed the different patterns on the ground of your feet. CHALLENGE: The walls start to close in on your and the group. You notice the door in the opposite direction get crushed as the walls inch closer. You must solve the puzzle to get out of the room before the walls make you a Chicago style pancake.

ROOM 12 — THE DESCENT

SUMMARY: Everything about this room when you and your group enters seems mundane. An old fashioned study is stocked with bookcases against both walls. An old fashioned globe with a mini bar inside of it lays in the center.The door locks behind you, but then you take a glance to the ceiling and notice the sinister sleek metal inching towards you. CHALLENGE: The ceiling in the room starts to lower. You must locate the key to get out of the room in time to not be flattened.

ROOM 13 — THE KEY

SUMMARY: You and your group enter a moderately furnished room. Some small chairs, a small children’s desk, among other mundane objects like pencils and pens. A few books that are on the desk. In the center of the room is where your vision is drawn to a circular crater that holds an overabundance of keys. With a glance you can wager that the key to open the door across from you is within this pit. CHALLENGE: A ticking above your heads alarms you to the fact that there are wired explosives ahead that are counting down. You must locate the correct key among dozens of faux ones. However, if you take too long the explosives will go off.

ROOM 14 — THE VOLTAGE

SUMMARY: Once you enter the room a soft breeze touches your face. You and your group take notice after the door locks behind you that the room is covered with different paintings of a cloudy sky. Lightning bolts painted on several places in the room scattered from wall to wall. Up above on the ceiling are shapes that seem to have formed grey clouds. All you’re missing is a nice cup of warm drink and a chair to leisure in. CHALLENGE: At first you feel it, and you hear the zap. Small bits of electricity shoot up your leg, and then it grows worse and worse. As if someone has turned on the electric chair for everyone in the room. You must locate the key to get out of the other door.

ROOM 15 — THE BARBED WIRE

SUMMARY: You and your group enter a room that you would have thought was created in a horror movie flick. From the ceiling to barely above the ground are barbed wire. The door is on the other side that will grant you the way out. That is if the barbed obstacle doesn’t grapple any of you first. CHALLENGE: You will need to get to the other side of the room through the barbed wires. Then you will be able to exit out the door, but you might want to be mindful not to become a mangled livestock on the conquest to escape.

ROOM 16 — THE ELEVATOR

SUMMARY: You and your group enter what you think is a normal room. However, once the regular door closes it locks. The room itself moves, and you’re presented with an elevator door in front of you. The keypad shows the different levels of the castle to the right, and there’s even a counter on the floors above the locked elevator door in front of everyone. THE CHALLENGE: The room goes between dropping at an alarming rate to rising upwards quickly. There’s no end in sight no matter what buttons you press on it. The elevator doesn’t stop on any floors. The group will need to figure out a way to disable the power inside the elevator and escape out the ceiling of it. But be careful it’s a finicky machine.

ROOM 17 — THE TAR

SUMMARY: The darkness captures you and your fellow group members at first. There is a light switch in this room that buzzes a dim cheap light onto the ground. Once everyone shuffles in you notice that the ground you step on is black, thick, and sticky. Black tar coats the ground of the room, and you notice it on the mediocre furniture that adorns it. A makeshift map with pins and faces of H.H. Holmes’s alleged victims are strawn out. You can take a breather or two, but then. THE CHALLENGE: The mechanic clink is heard around the room as panel boards slide apart. Through these panels projectiles are aimed into the room. Arrows & darts fly towards the group. Normally these would be easy to dodge, but you are stuck in place. You must work to get to the exit door on the other side of the room.

ROOM 18 — THE MIRRORS

SUMMARY: You and your fellow group members enter the room, the room is empty of furniture. Visibly on the roof are cogs and attached to them are large thick mirrors. The end isn’t in sight for anyone to see, and the only thing that looks back at you is your multiple reflections. The walls are lost and you swear they’re mirrors themselves. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. Are these two-way mirrors? CHALLENGE: The mirrors move with each step in a manner as if to smash or crush the opponent. The movements of them are precise and you can almost feel yourself being enclosed into a box of mirrors that gets smaller. The objective is to make it out of the reflective maze in one piece.

ROOM 19 — THE BARBED WIRE

ROOM 20 — THE CLOSURE

ROOM 21 — THE VIEW

SUMMARY: This room is not what it appears—it’s decorated floor-to-ceiling like the streets of France, complete with a gaudy painting of the Eiffel Tower, streetlamps and mannequins in period clothing. It’s beautiful, and a far cry from scary—that is, until you start to lose your breath standing in place. At first you wonder what’s wrong with you, until you realize your partner’s breath is becoming ragged and wheezy, too. It strikes you a second too late; the oxygen is being removed from this room little by little, and suddenly the breathtaking view makes sense. ( What a horrible pun, eh ? ) You’ll suffocate if you stay in here any longer, so it’s up to you and the rest of your teammates to find the exit. CHALLENGE: The door you entered through is locked, so weave your way through the “street” to find the other exit. You should know it’s locked, too, so you’ll have to work together to find the key. It could be in a flower pot, it could be inside the skull of a mannequin—but if you don’t find it, this cheap version of Paris is the last thing you’ll ever see.

ROOM 22 — THE HOURGLASS

ROOM 23 — THE VOLTAGE

ROOM 24 — THE CHALICE

ROOM 25 — THE OCEAN

ROOM 26 — THE MIRRORS

ROOM 27 — THE EXHALE

ROOM 28 — THE BANSHEE

ROOM 29 — THE TAR

ROOM 30 — THE TUNDRA

ROOM 31 — THE KEY

#crimson.event #oc rp #appless rp #crime rp #gang rp #mature rp #drowning tw #burning tw #violence tw #gore tw #death tw #body horror tw

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thominho-incorrectquotes · 3 years

Text

Important

This is my entry for Thominho Week 2020, Day 3 “College AU” (alternative prompt)

Characters: Thomas x Minho

2396 words

Tags: College Au, Modern Au, Mention of child abuse, Angst with happy ending, Mutual pining, Oblivious Thomas, Jealous Minho

Summary: “You’ll have to talk to him one day soon” Teresa repeated for the umpteenth time. “And you’ll have to go back to your dorm, you cannot sleep on the floor of my room for the rest of the semester.” Thomas groaned. He knew it.Few months ago, Thomas realized that the feelings he had for his best friend weren’t just platonic. It had hit him, suddenly, without even giving him a moment to think about it. He was madly in love with Minho.

You can also read it on AO3 and ff.net

________________________

“You’ll have to talk to him one day soon” Teresa repeated for the umpteenth time. “And you’ll have to go back to your dorm, you cannot sleep on the floor of my room for the rest of the semester.”

Thomas groaned. He knew it.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to. But how could he make up with Minho? It felt impossible.

Few months ago, Thomas realized that the feelings he had for his best friend weren’t just platonic. It had hit him, suddenly, without even giving him a moment to think about it.

He was madly in love with Minho.

Ever since High School, where they met for the first time, the Korean has been his best friend. They were that inseparable pair that everyone envied. Their friendship was just that strong. They were always there for each other, even in the worst moments, which Thomas had a lot. But Minho always supported him.

They were now in their second year of University. They obviously shared a dorm room and both took part in the Track team as they both loved running. They spent even more time together because of this, sometimes staying up all night talking or watching movies on Minho’s computer, studying together in the library, showering together in the changing room, going to parties together… Seeing them alone was unusual. Their friends often joked that they sometimes looked like an old couple.

However, when Thomas realized he fancied his best friend in a way that wasn’t just friendly, he started felling nervous around Minho. He would flinch a bit when his friend put his arms around his shoulders, as he was used to, and would blush whenever he was around. Even just a small smile directed at him gave Thomas butterflies.

And soon enough, his heart started aching every time he looked at his best friend. Because he knew they will only be that: best friend. One day, Minho would find someone and Thomas would have to watch them be happily forever in love. It made him cry every time he thought about it.

But point is, after the realization that he was in love with the person that meant the most to him - really, he should have realized it sooner, thinking about it - , he just didn’t know how to act around Minho. He didn’t want to ruin his friendship, but he just couldn’t be next to his friend without feeling all sort of things.

He told Teresa about his all this. He couldn’t talk about it with Newt, the guy would just go tell Minho, laughing is ass off. So he went to Teresa. She became his friend in his first year in university even though the Asian never liked her.

Overtime, he spent more and more time with her. It was easier for him, just to be away a bit from his best friend for a bit, it gave his heart a break. However, Minho noticed the distance between them and confronted Thomas about it few days ago.

“You don’t even talk to me anymore!” Minho had yelled. They had been arguing for minutes now, ever since Thomas came back to their room after eating with Teresa. “You avoid me and act like we don’t even know each other!”

“You know that’s not true!” Thomas argued back “We’re like always together!”

“Not for the past weeks.” The Asian had left out a sigh of frustration, running his hand on his head, ruining the perfect dark hair. “If I did something that pissed you off, just tell me dude!”

“You did nothing!”

“Than what is it!?” Minho was getting more and more frustrated. Thomas of course knew about the hot temper of his best friend, but it had never been directed towards him. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. He couldn’t tell Minho he was in love him.

“I-I..”

“See, you don’t even have an explanation! If you don’t like me anymore, please tell me!”

“No it’s not..”

“Or is it that your girlfriend Teresa takes so much of your time that you can’t even have time for me?” Minho interrupted him.

“She’s not…”

“I don’t wanna know Thomas” he cut him again, before sighing sadly. “I guess I’m not that important to you anymore.”

“Min it’s not- ”

“Don’t ‘Min’ me okay. I’m done. Go see your bitch or something, but leave. I don’t want to see you.”

“Teresa is not a bitch.” Now Thomas was angry too. Minho was acting like an asshole right now and didn’t even let him talk. He started packing his backpack with some clothes, desperate to leave the room as soon as possible. He didn’t want the Korean to see him crying. His heart was clenching in pain; his best friend was rejecting him.

“What are you doing?” Minho asked.

“Leaving, like you asked me to.”

“Tommy I wasn’t seri- “

“Slim it.”

That was the last thing Thomas said to his friend before leaving, tears rolling on his cheeks.

He had went to Teresa and cried in her arms the whole night. He was sure that Minho hated him now. He could have went to Alby and Newt’s room, but since they were also friend with the runner, it felt wrong. And part of him wanted to piss off Minho for being such an ass.

“You need to tell him how you feel Tom” Teresa told him again. “You’re destroying your friendship by keeping this to yourself.”

“I’ll ruin it anyway if I tell him.”

“You don’t know that.”

Thomas sighed. He really didn’t know what to do. His friendship with Minho was the most important thing for him. He couldn’t imagine a world without the other man in it. Telling his friend he wanted more… it could go so wrong. He didn’t know if he could do it.

“But anyway, you have to go back to your room” Teresa continued. “You have an exam tomorrow and it’s not on my floor that you’re going to have a good night’s sleep.”

“I could sleep with you” he proposed, even if he already knew the answer.

“Yeah, no chance.” Teresa sighed “I’m serious Tom, at least go sleep in your bed tonight and if the situation with Minho doesn’t get better I guess I’ll make you some place.”

“Ok” he accepted, defeated.

He reluctantly started packing his stuff, trying to prepare mentally to see Minho again. What was he going to say? What he going to ignore him? Thomas didn’t think he would survive a silent treatment from his best friend. Were they still even friend?

Once he was ready to leave, Teresa came to hug him.

“It’s gonna be fine Tom” she reassured him. “I’m sure of it. Now go, it’s getting late.”

Thomas gave her a small smile before leaving.

On his way back, his stress was just going up every second. His heart was aching to see Minho again, but at the same time he dreaded it. Sooner that he would have liked, he was in front of his room door. Sighing, he unlooked it, getting ready for what was about to come.

The moment he entered, he felt two eyes staring at him.

“Where were you?” Minho asked. His tone sounded annoyed. Maybe there was also a bit of concern into it.

But Thomas kept his lips shut, now knowing what to respond. He was in fact too shock to see the state his friend was in. Minho’s perfect hair was all messed up, he wore a baggy shirt – which never happened, he liked showing off his body too much – and his eyes were all red and puffy and even dark circles were showing up under them.

Well, Thomas couldn’t judge, his own appearance wasn’t really better.

“Teresa” The Asian answered for him. “I should have guess.”

Surprisingly, his tone wasn’t harsh or even accusing, as the brunet had expected. It sounded defeated. And sad. Thomas’s heart ached even more.

“Min..”

“No.”

The raven-haired man turned away and started getting ready to sleep, ignoring his friend still standing in the door frame.

Silent treatment it is.

Thomas sighed softly. It was late anyway, he didn’t have the energy to try convincing stubborn king Minho to talk to him. Maybe tomorrow.

He quickly prepared himself to go to bed, trying not to think too much of the other man already deep into his blankets. He was sure he was going to cry, again, if he did.

He still cried himself to sleep that night.

He woke up few hours later, because of another nightmare. He often had them, even if the last one was a month ago. He sat up in bed, trying to calm his breathing while fighting the images that were still invading his mind. It had been a particularly horrible one.

“Your dad again?”

Thomas jumped at the sudden voice. He turned to see Minho looking at him, sleepiness still visible on his face.

Of course. Ever since they started sharing a room together, the Asian developed this strange sixth sense which allowed him to wake up every time the brunet had a nightmare.

“Yeah, my dad…”

It wasn’t actually weird really, that Minho had this weird super power. He had been there when he and Thomas went to the police station to file a complaint against Janson Murphy, the boy’s father, back in High School. Janson was this abusive man who was always drunk and who took his anger on his only son, beating him almost every night. His mom could only watch in horror.

Minho had noticed the bruises on his best friend’s body. He convinced him to go seek help. He gave Thomas courage to stand up against his father. He had been there during the trial. He had been there when Janson was sent to prison. He had been there when the boy needed someone to rely on.

And he has always been there every night Thomas woke up because of yet another nightmare. And as Minho looked at him with concern eyes, he was reminded once again of the importance of his best friend in his life.

Said best friend who was getting out of his bed to slip into Thomas’s.

“What are you doing?”

“We both know you won’t be able to go back to sleep if I’m not there” the young man explained. Of course Thomas knew it. Whenever he had a nightmare, Minho would always sleep with him until morning. The buff arms and muscled chest were just that comforting. Furthermore, the other’s presence was something he craved in those moments, as if it was his younger self who once again need his best friend to help him against his dad.

“And you have an exam tomorrow, you need sleep” Minho added.

He remembered.

Why was Minho so considerate? Why was he so attentive? It was overwhelming.

As Thomas was drowning in different emotions, the other boy pulled him so his chest, laying him back down. The brunet began sobbing softly his best friend’s arms.

“I’m sorry” the Korean said. “I acted like an asshole.”

Thomas stayed silent, but nuzzled deeper into the warm body.

“I-I…”

Minho was nervous? Minho was never nervous. This was weird.

“I-I’m… I’m jealous” he admitted. At that, Thomas lifted his head and looked at his friend in shock.

“What?”

“I know, I… if you’re happy with Teresa, I guess I should be happy for you, but I can’t help feeling jealous…”

“Wait what? I’m not with Teresa, she’s just a friend” Thomas defended, surprised by Minho’s comment.

“What?” It was now also surprised. “But you’re spending more time with her then me now.”

“It’s because…” Should he say it? But then, something clicked. “Wait, you were jealous… because… you want to… be with me?”

“Yeah shank, I’m in love with you” Minho replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “All the flirting I did throughout all those years really went over your head?”

Oh. So all those compliments, all this touching, this closeness they had… Everything made sense now.

Happiness started spreading in his body and before he could stop himself, Thomas kissed his best friend. He immediately felt butterflies flying in his stomach and went to grab the raven hair, pressing the other man closer to him, already wanting more.

Minho quickly responded, capturing the brunet’s bottom lips between his own before diving into the kiss more, completely loosing himself into it. He had his arms wrapped tightly around Thomas and honestly? This was just the best feeling in the world, having the boy he loved all for himself. He could have stayed like this forever.

They deepened the kiss even more, moaning into it as their tongues danced with each other. They had wanted to do that for so long and now? They just never wanted to stop.

Breath was however becoming short and they had to separate their lips. Thomas had the happiest smile on his face and a tear was shining in the corner of his eye.

“I’m in love with you too’ he whispered, afraid of ruining the atmosphere they were in if he spoke to loud. “I realized it few months ago.”

“Only few months ago?” Minho replied softly, smirking, resulting in Thomas lightly slapping on the chest. “I’m joking. But is it why you’ve been acting weird?”

“Yeah, I just… didn’t know how to act around you anymore” the brunet explained, avoiding the Asian’s gaze in slight embarrassment. “I went to Teresa to talk about how I feel about you…”

“We’re really dumb shanks” Minho laughed.

“Yeah, we are.”

Thomas chuckled before he went to kiss his best friend again, but was stop before he could put their lips together by a finger on his mouth.

“As much as I would love spending the night making out with you, you need rest. We’ll have plenty of time of time after your exam tomorrow to do that.”

The brunet pouted, but he knew his friend was right.

“And I’m gonna take you on a date. How does that sound?”

“It sounds amazing” he smiled before snuggling in Minho’s warm chest, making himself comfortable. He soon felt asleep, Minho’s heartbeats as a soft melody.

He was woke up few hours later by light kisses on his noses, given by his boyfriend.

_______________________

I'm actualy pretty with this one, I think it's my favorite one yet.

Hope you enjoyed it!

#Thominho Week 2020 #tmwd3 #college au #alt #modern au #mention of child abuse #fanfiction #thominho fanfic #thomas #the maze runner #maze runner thomas #tmr thomas #thominho #minho #maze runner minho #thomas and minho #tmr minho #tmr fanfiction

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