#(I was projected an A and ended up with a C) and ended up with a first!!

[chanranghaeys]

🎥 chemistry read

in which junhui’s casting director gets a little bit too jealous during a chemistry read

pairing: actor!junhui x afab!casting director!reader word count: 2.1k+ genre: hurt, comfort, nsfw rating: r-18. nsfw, mdni! tags: established relationship, JEALOUSY, fluffy ending, reader is mentioned to be smaller than jun, i claim no accuracy over the movie industry processes nsfw warnings: heavy makeout, petting, voyeurism (if you squint?) a/n: mainly inspired by lana condor and noah centineo’s chemistry read for “to all the boys i’ve loved before” and it still lives rent-free in my head because it made me feel so, so many things. also my first nsfw-rated fic oh my. took me a while to make sense of where the story was going but it seemed all roads led to this. credits to @strxwberry-skiess, @diamonddaze01, @haologram, and c for beta reading because this took a village to get out!! thank you bless your souls 🫶

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Do you believe in the red string of fate?”

“The what?”

“The red string of fate. Have you seriously not heard of it?”

Jun was pulling out all the stops for this one. He had cranked up his charm to the max level evident in the smiles and subtle glances towards her direction. He knew exactly what he was doing.

It was sickening.

You were sitting on the opposite end of the screen in another room. Yes, you chose to go into a separate room today.

“It’s to see the literal on-screen chemistry,” you said. “We can’t have the face-to-face chemistry not translating well on camera.”

Just as well. You’d had enough of them making heart eyes at each other right in front of you anyway.

Today’s schedule was packed with absolutely no time for breaks in between and no time to even sit for a proper meal which you knew you’d only get by the end of the day.

And no time to actually sit down with the actor you were working with—who you were also lucky enough to call your boyfriend.

If you too were an actor, you’d truly believe that Jun was the perfect fit for you. It was something about his carefree presence and easygoing demeanor that turned shy when praises were directed at him no matter how much he deserved it. It was something that made you want to keep rooting for him.

He saw precisely that in you: your unwavering dedication and quiet support, whether in giving him insider tips and tricks to get ahead or letting him run wild with his character at every casting call. It was something he had never seen so strongly in someone during his time as an actor.

“You remind me of my members,” he told you the very first time you had coffee together—as colleagues who were on the verge of becoming something. “They’re my brothers. And I mean that in the best way possible! Not that you’re my brother in the messing around and crazy kind of way,” he quickly added when you raised your eyebrows in question. “I mean in the ‘always being there to stand by your side no matter what’ kind of way.” He sips from his drink nervously. “Don’t ask me to explain please, because I will not stop rambling until I say something even more stupid than I already have.”

You laughed because he’d already rambled more than he usually did. As a casting director, it was your job to match actors to roles that suited them perfectly. But as people, you both could say you did a mighty good job in matching each other’s quirks and freaks.

Professional mode on during work, you two agreed. And you two did very well on that promise.

But bringing her in for the role made it infinitely difficult for you to keep up your end of this deal.

“She’s an old friend of mine! We worked together on one of my very first projects, the small ones I used to tell you about.” He said this when you asked about her. You knew all that already, of course—it was part of your job.

But when the two finally met again in person, you saw it. As a casting director, your professional instincts felt it. You saw it in the way they instantly gravitated to each other, the way their eyes both sparkled, the way their hands naturally connected even after all those years apart.

They were perfect for the role.

And in your head, a small voice continued the thought you didn’t want to touch.

They were perfect for each other.

It was the same voice nagging in your head throughout the duration of the chemistry read. You knew this scene by heart as if you were the one auditioning for the role. You’ve watched how many callbacks and chemistry reads of this scene. And you knew what came next.

After the back-and-forth dialogue was a moment of silence, followed by a lingering gaze, which was sealed with a kiss that escalated to a bed scene. It was a pivotal moment in the film so it had to be perfect.

You’d almost been desensitized to your boyfriend doing such scenes—professional mode on as always. But all that work crumbled the moment you saw their eyes lock onscreen. Slowly, slowly, their faces inched closer together to meet in a kiss.

Your eyes burned. Your fist clenched as you saw his hand fist in her hair. Your jaw tightened when you saw her lips land in the corner of his jaw. And just as he brought her head down on the couch, the director called “Cut!” and you stood up to walk out of the room, not without feeling a stray tear fall down your cheek.

Jun heard the slam of the door and jerked his head toward the sound. That was all it took for him to know what happened.

He wasn't the only one to notice. Jun found the director’s eyes meeting his with a knowing look. “Alright,” the director started. “Well, they don't call it a chemistry read for nothing!” Scattered laughs filled the small room. “Thank you to both of you, that was absolutely amazing.”

The producers took the actress aside for a few words with other managers and staff. Your presence was notably absent.

Before Jun could slip away, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “That was the best read so far,” the director said.

“I know,” and with his eyebrows raised he continued, “I heard the door.”

The director just gave him a lighthearted laugh. “I’m sure we all did. But you know she would agree.”

Jun knew. So while everyone was preoccupied, he glanced at his manager—who already knew what he’d do—and set off to find you. It wasn’t a hard task because he opened the nearest door to the stairwell and found you leaning against the wall.

You met his eyes when you heard the door open, following him and his slight smile until he ended up a short distance beside you with his shoulder against the wall. You were adamant about not wanting him to see you break. You’re a professional, right?

“You know it’s not real,” he starts.

You scoff. “How is it not real when it was right in front of me?”

“Stop that, green isn’t a good color on you.”

“What?” Jarred, you look down at your staple all-black ensemble. “But green’s my favorite color. You told me you liked me in green.”

“Not when it’s green with jealousy.”

It took you two seconds to register what he said. The corner of your mouth twitched involuntarily at the quip. “I am not jealous.”

Jun barely held in a laugh. “Yeah, sure you aren’t.”

“I’m not!”

“Jealous you’re not the one I was kissing?”

“No, I—”

“Jealous you’re not the one I’m holding?” He reaches out and loops his finger through one of your belt loops to pull you closer, closer, until you’re both joined at the hip. He shifts to effectively pin you against the wall with his height. You shiver against his touch when his fingertips graze the base of your neck.

“Now, you stop that,” you breathily let out.

“Stop what?” He asks oh so innocently.

“This.”

“No. Not until I prove to you how real this is.” He grabs ahold of your hand, and places it somewhere you did not expect it to go: right over his clothed crotch.

He was wearing loose slacks, a piece that could easily hide things that need to be hidden. But if there was one thing you did know about Jun is that he gets hard quick and easy and it takes him a while to calm down. With your hand on it, you could feel it was anything but hard.

“You know me. You tell me if that read did anything remotely close to what you do to me.”

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can let out a reply, his lips land on yours. His actions catch you off-guard and you instinctively clutch onto his arms and your last bits of sanity. Just as quick, he breaks away and grabs your hand again to return it to where it came from.

“Keep it here, love. I need you to have the proof in your hands.” He brushes a stray hair from your face, and you see your own desire in his eyes reflected back to you. He leans in, but stops short of your lips, leaving you to chase after his touch. The smirk that followed was telling of his thoughts. He was teasing you. God.

You had no more patience for his fun and games. You could feel the pent-up frustration building. Whether from anger or sexual arousal, the line has been blurred irrevocably. With your free hand, you latch onto his hair and pull him in aggressively into an open-mouthed kiss.

It was at this moment that you both decided to think “fuck it” to all modes of professionalism.

He takes advantage of your open mouth and wastes no time diving deeper. You find yourself reciprocating his kisses, pulling him in closer as if recreating the scene you watched him do but making sure it was imprinted with your mark on him.

“I love you.” You hear it whispered, feel it muttered against your lips. “I love you, and only you,” he continues in between kisses. “I love you.”

And there it is: the proof you could feel quite literally in your hand, at the crux between his legs. If you weren’t too in the heat of the moment, you could almost laugh. He decided to prove his loyalty to you by showing that he did not get a boner during the chemistry read. It was your lips and your hands, and yours only, that could do this to him. It was peak Junhui.

But now, you were only aroused beyond comprehension, apparent in the pit of your core and the slick pooling in your panties. You squeeze him through his slacks and he moans lewdly in your mouth, echoing in the empty stairwell bearing witness to this obscenity.

He starts kissing and licking down your neck as you feel his hands snake under your blouse and your bra to squeeze in return, earning a gasp from your swollen mouth. You fist the hand you had in his hair tighter, fully aware that you are indeed messing it up and you will very much get a word from his stylist about this.

Your ringtone effectively silenced all other sounds you both made before things could go any further. You both stopped to look at each other with expressions that were hard to decipher whether in alarm or in exhilaration.

“Hello?”

You hear your director on the other end. “So have you two kissed and made up yet? Not literally, I hope.”

From the corner of your eye, Jun chuckled. You cleared your throat, but your voice was still a pitch too high when you replied, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Alright, now come on back here. We have dinner prepared for everyone, including the new girl. We still need to talk about her.”

“Got it, boss.”

“Now, okay? We’ve been stalling for you two.”

Ah, shit. “Okay. On the way.” You dropped the call and looked at Jun leaning back against the wall, whose hair he managed to salvage and whose clothes were almost presentable. You couldn’t say the same for your half-open jeans and messed-up lipstick.

Wordlessly, he pulls you in and helps tidy you up—fixing your hair as you put your clothes back together and wipe off the stray lipstick from your face.

“For the record,” he says as he tucks your hair behind your ear, “whatever chemistry you see on the screen is only because I have you in my head to draw inspiration from. There’s a reason why people close their eyes when they kiss. It’s you I see every time.”

You usually love it when Junhui rambles like this. You still do now, but you also recall his “green with jealousy” line and it fills you with embarrassment.

“It’s just…it looked so real. It felt so real. That was the best chemistry read out of all of them.”

“So I was told earlier.”

“It made me feel so many things.” The exasperation was evident in your voice.

He takes your hands this time and holds them tight. “I’ll make you feel even more things, I’m sure. But I will not let you forget that I will make you feel loved the most. Okay?”

You sigh. You love him. “I love you, Jun.”

“I love you, too.” He raises a hand to press a kiss on your knuckles.

“Also remind me to call building security. I must tell them to delete that footage from the stairwell.”

Jun gives you a quiet smile, one full of mischief. “Not without securing a copy first. For me. Please?”

“I thought we were professionals!”

“We could add professional rule-breakers to that title, you know.”

Hmm. You reconsider his request. Yep, you could definitely match his freak. Perfect chemistry.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

post a/n: inbox is open for requests or additions to taglists!

[sammylkcho]

I have a jealous human seb request 👉👈, The highschool au is pretty cool maybe something with that? Or whatever u think works :)))

  ༷  ㅤ !    ﹢High School AU - Jealous, jealous   ִ     ੭

Did I end up creating an AU without realizing it? Yes. Am I now obsessed with human Seb and Y/N in these kinds of scenarios? definitely

Hope you like it, my dear anon! Btw, for the fans of Epic the Musical, I was inspired by certain scenes in the song Little Wolf heheh

Warnings/Notes: escena de pelea, golpes, physical insecurities, me inspiré en human painter en el Painter de Streamer AU, using pronuns she/her with Y/N (sorry :c)

You allowed yourself to lift your head from the desk as the bell rang, signaling the start of the first recess. At that precise moment, all your classmates sprang from their seats and bolted out of the room like wild animals, desperate to escape the classroom for even a second.

You waited until at least half of them had left to avoid being pushed and squeezed between their bodies just to get out yourself. After all, your entire group of friends was absent today, so there wasn’t anyone you were particularly waiting for.

“Get up. I don’t want the cafeteria to run out of empanadas,” Sebastian said.

You lazily glanced over your shoulder and saw him standing there, hands tucked into his sweater pockets, his messy, wavy black hair as unruly as ever, and his blue eyes sparkling with that peculiar glimmer they always seemed to have.

It had only been a few weeks since you’d started talking to him—or rather, since he started talking to you. It had surprised you when he chose to pair up with you for a group project, especially since your friend didn’t protest or complain about not doing the assignment together as you two usually planned.

And it just happened—you didn’t even know how you ended up getting closer to him. Once again, you were amazed that your social anxiety hadn’t caused you to say something stupid as it often did in so many situations.

A quick snap of fingers broke your trance, making you blink and focus on the tanned fingers in front of you.

You smiled and apologized before standing up to walk alongside him, leaving the classroom to head toward the place Sebastian’s stomach most desired: the cafeteria.

“How are your siblings?” you asked, trying to start a conversation to distract yourself from the overwhelming noise around you.

“They’re fine, though… my sister’s been annoying lately, and I have to be her poor victim. So unfair!” Sebastian complained, frowning dramatically.

His exaggerated gestures made you laugh. You always enjoyed hearing how he made every situation with his siblings seem over the top. There was never a dull story about them.

Hearing your laugh, Sebastian glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. A flush of warmth rushed to his cheeks, and his palms began to feel sweaty. He quickly looked away, pulling a childish face. Loverboy.

“Hey, I’m gonna head to the bathroom for a moment. Don’t wait too long for me,” you said, stepping slightly away from his side.

He gave you a confused look for a moment before snapping out of it and flashing you a lazy smile, giving you a thumbs-up in approval.

“Just don’t take too long. I won’t promise to leave anything half-eaten,” he called out, raising his voice to make himself heard over the growing crowd of students in the courtyard.

You walked off with a small “uh-huh” in confirmation, heading straight for the bathrooms. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding it in until your bladder gave you a signal that if you didn’t go now, there’d be a bit of trouble.

It was no secret that the girls’ bathroom always had at least five people inside, most of them standing in front of the mirrors for at least ten minutes. Luckily, you only needed to take care of business and wash your hands before heading back out.

You recognized three girls from your class in there and two others who you guessed were a year or two ahead of you.

You’d always felt a bit uncomfortable around them, especially since some of them drooled over Sebastian and fit the classic “queen bee” stereotype. Honestly, you never liked them.

You entered the stall without any issues and finished up quickly before heading to the sinks to wash your hands.

Catching your reflection in the mirror, you felt a twinge of self-consciousness as you took in your appearance. You felt uncomfortable with yourself. How could you even show up to school looking like this? How could you stand next to him when—

You shook your head quickly, pushing those intrusive thoughts aside as you hurriedly left the bathroom. You’d gotten better; you didn’t need to dwell on those things—at least not as much.

Your eyes widened as you stepped outside and saw the courtyard completely packed. It was almost impossible to make out individuals in the sea of students.

You began weaving through the crowd, narrowly dodging a small paper ball some boys had decided to use as a makeshift soccer ball.

Your eyes scanned every corner of the courtyard near the tables, searching for one specific person. It was challenging, considering almost everyone had black hair. But no matter—you’d find your favorite Chilean.

Your gaze landed on a head of snow-white hair, and a smile crept onto your face as you spotted Vincent Painter in the crowd. You knew full well that where Vincent was, Sebastian was sure to be close by.

You pushed your way through, tuning out the rest of the world as you zeroed in on those two specific people.

“Painter, Seb—” The words died in your throat in an instant, the air abruptly leaving your lungs as you felt a sudden force. A hand clamped down firmly on your shoulder.

A chill ran through your body from head to toe as your heart began pounding faster and faster. You forced yourself to relax enough to turn and see who had grabbed you like that.

“Clay.”

The name seemed to slip instantly from your lips as you turned to see who it was.

It might sound cliché to say it this way, but it was the number one bully, troublemaker, and overall pain in the ass for both students and teachers alike. Always bothering people in the most unpleasant ways just to have something to do—including you.

You’d struggled to turn him into background noise back in sophomore year. Every time a teacher publicly scolded you for being late or some other "important" issue, he was always there to rub it in, mocking you for every mistake.

"Busy?" he asked with fake interest, his hand still firmly gripping your shoulder.

"A little, yes, maybe. Actually doing something worthwhile, unlike some," you muttered the last part under your breath, quickly and quietly, cursing yourself a thousand times over the moment you realized what you'd said.

His grip on your shoulder seemed to tighten and grow more forceful. You’d struck a nerve.

"Why don’t you come hang out with me and my group for the rest of the break? We’re not as boring as some," he said, maintaining that same hypocritical tone.

His hand slid down until it rested around your shoulders, as if you were lifelong friends. The gesture made your skin crawl with disgust. You wanted to shove him away, to curse him out in every way possible, to give him the slap he’d deserved for ages.

Your mind screamed yes to all of those thoughts, but your body froze, paralyzed with fear of what might happen if you so much as moved an inch while he had his arm around you.

Your legs felt like they were bolted to the ground, refusing to respond to the demands your brain was frantically making. Even though no one else could clearly see it in that moment, it was humiliating.

"No, I’m busy—"

"Someone like you is never busy."

"SHIT, NO!" you yelled with all your strength. Before he could react, you jerked your shoulders forcefully, a sharp motion that broke his grip. You freed yourself and stepped back, your body trembling with pure adrenaline.

You exhaled all the air you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in, gasping desperately for the oxygen you’d been depriving yourself of. The suffocating feeling still lingered, especially after your outburst and the scene you’d unintentionally created in front of the other students.

The noisy schoolyard, which had been alive with chatter and laughter just moments ago, fell deathly silent at your shout. Those closest to you and Clay stood frozen, watching in stunned silence to see how the situation would unfold. Further back, murmurs started among the students, curious and uncertain about what had caused the commotion.

You looked at Clay, trembling, noticing how his muscles tensed and his eyes stayed locked on you, unyielding. Neither of you said anything, locked in a tense standoff, like a predator trying not to scare off its prey.

Time seemed to stop for a moment, the only sound being your heavy, shaky breaths if someone were to listen closely enough.

Then, you clearly saw his right hand—the same one that had been draped over your shoulders—rise aggressively toward you, giving you no time to react or process what was about to happen.

The blow landed hard and fast, a lightning strike of pain erupting like a volcano in your cheek and spreading through your entire head. Your vision blurred for a moment, a dull ringing filling your ears as the world around you tilted unsteadily.

You lost your balance, stumbling to the side. Your hands instinctively reached for the ground, but the force of the impact left your arms trembling under your weight. Your skin burned where his hand had struck, a searing sensation that seemed to etch the violence into your body.

"Stop acting like a wild animal toward me! You’re that guitarist’s lapdog, so act like it—"

His words were abruptly cut off when something struck him out of nowhere, silencing him mid-sentence.

You didn’t take the moment to lift your head and see what had happened; your mind was still struggling to process the words he’d just yelled at you.

“Who the hell threw a damn empanada at me?!” he roared, utterly agitated, his fury palpable from miles away.

“Who taught you to hit a woman like that?!”

A new voice broke into the scene, one you recognized instantly.

You wanted to lift your head, even just a little, but the wave of dizziness and trembling that overtook you made it almost impossible to move.

“Shh... Come on, get up slowly and carefully. Let me help you. That bruise looks nasty,” another voice said softly, this one closer to you.

They helped you up, letting you lean on them for support as you steadied yourself, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other. Squinting, you tried to make out who it was, though you already knew.

“Painter… Seb’s—” you murmured weakly, trying to get him to stop the sudden impulsiveness of the other man.

“I know. That idiot’s trying to act tough,” Painter cut you off, rolling his eyes at the unfolding situation.

“You want to put on a show for the whole school? Fine, Solace! Let’s see how you handle this!”

Clay’s voice sent a shiver down your spine as you watched the scene play out in front of you.

Clay was advancing, his steps slow but deliberate. Sebastian instinctively stepped back, trying to keep some distance, his eyes locked on Clay’s movements, searching for any clue of his intentions.

But the gap between them was closing rapidly, the circle of onlookers around them seeming to shrink with every passing moment. Each step back was a concession, and each step forward from Clay was a reminder of who was in control.

“DON’T BE A COWARD!”

That shout rang out like the toll of a bell, marking the inevitable start of what was about to happen.

Clay lunged forward, his fist raised, ready to land a solid blow. As he closed the last few inches between them, he swung with brutal force, grabbing Sebastian roughly and shoving him back. The shove was so forceful it left Sebastian struggling to regain his balance.

Sebastian didn’t waste a second to catch his breath. He recovered immediately, ignoring his body’s cries for rest; there was no time for that now.

“Uppercut him. NOW” Painter shouted, almost as agitated as Sebastian himself at the sight of his friend fighting.

Without hesitation, Sebastian followed Painter’s instruction.

His fist shot upward with calculated precision, aiming for his attacker.

The sound of the impact was the only thing that could be heard in the courtyard—a crack that left more than a few eyes wide at the sheer violence of the scene. Clay’s jaw snapped upward with the force of the punch, sending him stumbling back, reeling from the sudden blow.

Clay forced his gaze back toward Sebastian, his face twisted into a deranged grin full of rage.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the furious voice of a new arrival shattered the overwhelming silence of the courtyard.

“Solace and Torres! I want both of you in my office NOW!” bellowed the principal, his uncontrolled fury directed at the two named offenders.

. . . . . . . . . .

“That was stupid.”

Silence.

“Impulsive. Way too impulsive.”

Silence.

“Something you’d never do. Especially getting involved in something like this.”

Silence.

“Did I mention how much of an idiot you were?” You tightened the bandage around his palm.

“Ow!” he hissed, wincing at the sting from your touch.

You shot him a glare, still struggling to understand why his foolish mind had decided to intervene and start a fight—especially one that escalated so violently.

He avoided your eyes, turning his head to the side, causing strands of his dark hair to fall across his forehead like a curtain, partially obscuring his vision.

You let out an audible sigh, one that sounded more like an exasperated groan than anything else.

Your hand was still holding Sebastian’s as you finished wrapping the bandage. Even though his palm had small, raw scrapes, his touch was warm and comforting. A part of you didn’t want to pull away.

“I just… I felt awful seeing him hit you, and I couldn’t do anything. You didn’t deserve that—especially not from a guy like him!” he muttered, pressing his other palm against his cheek in frustration.

He looked endearing like this, grumbling while trying to explain why he’d felt the need to protect you from someone like that.

“Don’t worry about it anymore, okay? I’m fine, and so are you,” you reassured him, offering a soft smile.

A faint hum, something like an “mmh,” escaped his lips.

You laughed a little more at his antics, catching a brief glimpse of crimson red coloring his cheeks. How cute.

[b-skarsgard]

Exclusive Interview: Bill Skarsgård On Making Orlok His Own In NOSFERATU

Bill Skarsgård has been in the Nosferatu loop since writer/director Robert Eggers first began conceiving it almost 10 years ago. This was before Skarsgård had his horror-star-making turn as Pennywise in It, so initially, he auditioned for the part of Friedrich Harding, friend of central couple Thomas and Ellen Hutter. Then he read for and landed the part of Thomas before the project fell apart. Nosferatu, in fact, went through a few stops and starts before finally coming to fruition, with Skarsgård ultimately taking on the titular role of the hundreds-of-years-old vampire Count Orlok.

Eggers’ reimagining of the 1922 silent landmark gives Orlok a new look but the same goal: to possess Ellen (Lily-Rose Depp) and drain the life from those around her. The film, which also stars Nicholas Hoult as Thomas, Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Harding, and Willem Dafoe as occult expert Professor Albin Eberhart Von Franz, presents Orlok as a resuscitated, centuries-old nobleman driven by obsession as much as bloodlust. (You can read more of this interview in FANGORIA #26, on sale very soon.)

read at the link or under the cut

Do you happen to know what Eggers’ change in thinking was, from seeing you in one of the heroic roles to playing the villain?

I don’t know if there are any heroic roles in the movie [laughs], apart from Ellen, in a way. I don’t know what changed in him, but that’s just how it ended up. At one point I was devastated because when it did finally look like Nosferatu was coming around for the third time, he was looking into other actors for Thomas, and then I heard that Nick got the part, and I was like, OK, what about the Harding role?

I also once read for that one. And then Aaron got it, and I was like, OK, I have to divorce myself from the idea of being part of this movie now, even though I felt so, I don’t know, destined to be a part of it. So it was a surprise and shock to me when he approached me with Orlok. In a lot of ways, it was a much more daunting task to undertake as an actor. It was as terrifying as it was exciting.

This is obviously a very different Orlok than we saw in the previous versions of Nosferatu. How did you view the character when you first took the role, and how did you develop him with Eggers?

Robert had obviously done a lot of thinking about what his Orlok would be like. And when he reached out to me about the possibility of playing him, I think he was a lot more confident that I could do it than I was [laughs]. But I was so thrilled for the opportunity, and I told him, “OK, now we’ll have to convince everyone”; we had to submit to the studio and whatnot.

We had this kind of 10-day workshop where he shared with me a lot of the material he had used for inspiration—different performances in different movies, what Orlok would have been like when he was alive, all that kind of stuff. And also how he saw Orlok’s look, which was quite specific. Then I started working on it.

I began with voice memos, and then I would send little clips of myself doing certain things. This was all before the actual screen test; it was all during COVID. Those 10 days were a very deep dive into the process of developing this guy, and proof for myself that I could do it. It was a great sort of dating phase with Robert as well, to see how we would collaborate. Auditions are usually horrible, but with this particular way of doing it, it was quite creative.

Then the movie fell apart again, so when we actually got to shoot it, I believe it had been two and a half years since I did the tape. So I almost had to restudy what I did for the tape in order to start re-prepping for the movie because, at that point, I was at the same place of, how the hell did I do this, or can I do it? I had to go through all that again, you know?

What were some of Eggers’ specific inspirations for Orlok that he shared with you, and were there any you came up with yourself?

There were a lot of different things. There was a Bulgarian movie called Time of Violence—a great movie, over four hours long, set in Bulgaria in the 17th century. And there’s this guy, the antagonist of the movie, taking over a village and forcibly converting Christians, and it’s incredibly violent and horrible. That performance was something Robert talked a lot about in terms of who Orlok could have been when he was alive. We talked about that one a lot, and various different things—little snippets from here and there.

But that was during the very early stages. Once you start delving deeper into a character, hopefully, you start getting inspiration from whatever it is you’re actually working on, and that creates seeds that come out of it. Robert also wrote a backstory for Orlok, just a few pages, that he shared with me, which was also very helpful.

You said before that there aren’t many heroes in Nosferatu except for Ellen. Would you consider Orlok a villain, or do you see him more as a tragic character?

He’s the romantic lead, isn’t he [laughs]? Yeah, it’s tricky. Is he a villain? Yeah, of course; I mean, he’s Nosferatu, he’s Dracula, he’s one of the most, if not the most iconic horror villain there is. But I think the script has nuances that make it more complex, more layered, in the sense that the movie is sort of a love triangle with Ellen in the middle. She’s torn between a good, stable, benevolent, loving husband and something that is very powerful, very destructive, but also very alluring to her, and you watch her being torn between these two forces.

How was it working with the heavy prosthetics that transformed you into Orlok?

David White did the prosthetics and the design, and he’s incredibly talented. And Stuart Richards and his wife were the ones who applied it on me every day. You tend to become very close to those people, because they’re the ones you spend the most time with when you’re playing a character like this. Just immensely talented, and very, very sweet.

And then there’s the process of getting it on for the first time and you’re like, OK, what works and what doesn’t work? How do my face and my expressions translate onto this new face that they’ve glued on top of mine? It becomes a whole process where you need to familiarize yourself with how your performance is being translated through the prosthetics. But I never felt like Orlok without the makeup, so the prosthetics and the costume were all pieces that I needed to perform him.

Since you were attached to the role for a few years, did the concept of Orlok change at all from the beginning to what we see in the final film?

Actually, not too much. Robert shared with me, when I was being considered for the role, a digital drawing he had made of Orlok, and that was pretty close to what he ended up looking like in the actual movie. Obviously, there were little changes here and there, but the essence of it, the mustache and so forth, stayed pretty close.

A lot of the character’s look is, what did a Romanian or Hungarian nobleman look like in the 16th century? As you probably know, Robert does extensive research and tries to be as historically accurate as possible in anything he does. So, the look is a representation of that. It’s a historically accurate Romanian nobleman [laughs]. And the same with the costumes. It was pretty specific, and what Orlok looks like in the movie is pretty close to what Robert initially envisioned.

Can you talk about working with Lily-Rose Depp?

It was an absolute pleasure working with Lily. I haven’t seen many people with such raw talent as she possesses, and how much she gives to the movie. It’s not an easy role at all; it was so emotionally demanding, and the way she could just turn it on every single time, take after take, was awe-inspiring.

The first few scenes I did with her, I wasn’t even acting; I was just a shadow hand behind the camera. And I could just see how gifted she was, and the nuances she brought. Then once we started doing scenes together, I couldn’t appreciate it as much because I was also performing, and we were dancing together. But she’s incredible, and an undeniable force in the movie. •

[paper-possum-party-pal]

Our favorite British bastard in situations!

Companion piece to the Stanley drawings!

Closeups!

And an extra older sketch featuring a centaur narrator based on @cosmokrill’s drawings of the narrator as a centaur which tells you I made these drawings after little after June 22! Go look at their art it’s so huggable looking!

[spade-deck]

*Sees a fictional character*

You know what, I like you

*plans out a fanfic/fanfics where they attempt suicide*

[charcarts]

gwitch asking real questions like: could a tanuki girl fall in love with a kitsune girl?

[petalsandpurity]

It’s almost like those students were able to improve their skills because they studied a single subject that they were genuinely interested in and passionate about for three years

[yellllowstar]

you can make songs be about The Character if you try hard enough.

(song is "deep in the ocean" by lemon demon)

[karliahs]

going through my old bnha drafts and there's like 5k of bullying-related hurt/comfort that's maybe 80% finished? and I'm annoyed bc I want. To read the end. Who would be so cruel as to abandon this without a conclusion. 25 year old me you have a lot to answer for

[loving-jack-kelly]

it is Extremely funny that the whole watcher thing just ended after one weekend of people being like hey this was poorly thought out and a terrible idea. lmao. cringe fail financial decision.

[mutalune]

me when people hate on aos trek:

[dapperrokyuu]

Kudos to Link Click for introducing me to some of the most losershit characters Ive ever experienced, lol.

[blondiest]

With the way you write Mello's perspective more than Near, I bet on 1890$ that you are a variation of his female version.

being attacked in my own goddamn home rn. can't have shit in [LOCATION REDACTED]

[oflostinfound]

✨ I like your writing and I love learning more about your characters through my characters. Alius Orbus sounds fun- I'll be a reader of the comic when it starts for sure!

send ✨ if you like my writing and feel free to tell me why !! the rpc is in serious need of some positivity.

{ I'm glad you like them and their world!! I've been working on them for years and it always makes my day to know people like them!! 🥺🥺 }

[bleue-flora]

Read your discussion with elmhat and I have to add that c!Quackity was basically canonically abused by c!Schlatt. Like, on-screen. He gets threatened, insulted, sexually harassed, and even physically beaten into obedience at least once. It's a huge thing and it's taken as seriously as anything involving Schlatt can be.

It's not an excuse for Q later being abusive himself, but Schlatt mistreating him is a HUGE part of his motivations later, so I needed to correct/add that

I mean… ok that’s fair. I apologize. And I mean that. :) Let’s make sure the facts are straight for sure. So yeah you’re right that did happen but just not to the like extremes that some people portray I guess is what I was more referring to (as far as I remember). Though I am always down for some clips if you have any that come to mind. But I see what you are getting at… though as you said it doesn’t justify it really, but it is still important for making the audience sympathetic and understanding towards a character. (And perhaps take this with a grain of salt because I haven’t been in a real actual like romantic/sexual relationship… though I guess to be fair I do have experience with pretty severe sexual harassment and manipulation (minus the beating)..…but that’s really besides the point) I think in the scale of the dsmp it’s just kinda…. Meh….(don’t apply this to irl btw) for me perhaps the biggest thing is that it was ultimately his own fault and no one forced him to stay and he was already ruthless before c!Schlatt. And it may have been cruel and terrible and screwed him up but ultimately it never really changed his motivations and actions that much… like he ran in an election before c!Schlatt, he serves as an influential government official and forms countries after c!Schlatt. I mean the whole bet thing with c!Schlatt about getting the book ultimately could be taken out of lore and it wouldn’t change much… I don’t know. In the skewed world of the dsmp, abuse is a standard afternoon so it’s hardly that consequential in my opinion of course. That may make me sound cold hearted but… egh like in the same case as c!Tommy for exile. They faced the consequences of their own actions, consequences that on the scale of cruelty on the dsmp are just not on the same scale as what is considered note worthy abuse in the real world. And if we are saying that counts as his traumatic backstory that is both supposed to somewhat make the audience feel for him and make him understandable then it just… isn’t enough? Isn’t substantial?… I don’t know. Maybe that makes me heartless but I’m not saying c!c!Quackity is a one dimensional heartless, control freak, sadistic villain, he’s still a person however flawed and broken and misguided. But I don’t think we can blame c!Quackity’s behavior and cruel delusion as being from c!Schlatt nor do I think he did things because he has a deep care for other people… but then again maybe that says more about me then him, that perhaps my views are scuffed…I don’t know….

[akkivee]

the absolute comedic artistry that was iwasaki-san and takeuchi-san continuing to struggle with their rice planting as shinjuku style became prominent in the bg and hayami-san rolled up in that automatic planter LOL