#and that's all the actors with their little name and character name thing appearing next to them

[felixravinstills]

Actors Being Interviewed (4/4)

—Predator or Prey: Making The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes 8-Part Documentary

[naughtyneganjdm]

Sneaking in a Quickie

Summary: Taking your niece to a haunted farm attraction turns out to be a fun night when you convince Joel to sneak off with you to enjoy one another.

Characters: Joel Miller & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59500783

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, public sex, rough sex, unprotected p in v, Halloween themed, no use of Y/N, female reader, little to no plot, mentions of Sarah, etc.

Notes: This is day 3 to go with this kinktober list. The prompt I chose was "public sex".

What you thought was going to be a boring night babysitting two kids was actually turning out to be a whole lot more interesting than you thought it would be. When your niece asked you to take her to a haunted farm with multiple attractions for Halloween, you happily accepted. You wanted to spend more time with her, but when you found out she just wanted you to go in order to be a guardian to watch over her and her friend because her parents didn’t want to take her, that’s when it seemed like it was going to be boring. It had been a long time since you had gone to a haunted house of any kind and you thought you were going to be a third wheel.

Instead, when you got to the place, you were pleasantly surprised that your niece’s friend, Sarah, had brought her father along with her. That way you wouldn’t be the only adult there. And it didn’t hurt that he was incredibly good looking.

Joel Miller was his name, and, at first, he was very shy. Soft spoken. Avoided eye contact. Before the event started, you were all sitting at a picnic table with the girls talking back and forth which left you trying to make conversation with him. It was hard, but eventually you got him talking. And once he did, you couldn’t get enough of his southern drawl. From his chocolate brown eyes to his dimples and dark messy hair, you found yourself swooning over this man.

If you were in other situations, you wouldn’t have had a hard time making a pass at him. Unfortunately you were in front of children and that wasn’t going to happen. So you could only flirt with him in the most innocent of ways.

Most of the haunted attractions didn’t start until sundown, so the four of you walked around a scare zone that they had for what appeared to be the younger children. There were mazes with paintings on the walls, a spinning tunnel, a corn maze and other odds and ends. Truthfully? You didn’t care what you were doing as long as you were close to Joel. You wanted to make a good impression on him and by the lack of a ring on his finger you knew that it’d be okay with you trying so hard.

Once the sun went down, you were enamored by how much he visibly loved his daughter, but also by his smartass attitude. When the girls asked you and Joel to go first into the haunted barn attraction that they had because they were scared, Joel reminded them that the actors often went after those in the back. And he was right. Multiple times the actors would work twice as hard to scare the girls and when they got out of line, Joel would make his presence known. So while the teens were happy to be there, they also had their bodyguard to keep them safe.

Together as a group, all of you had spent a lot of time together and the more time you spent with Joel, the hotter you were for him. And by the way he was looking at you toward the end of the night, you wondered if he felt the same.

Part of you was incredibly excited when a group of girls showed up that were friends with your niece and Sarah. They begged to go spend time with them since there was a mother with that group as well. Joel agreed but requested them to meet back at a certain time.

This was exactly what you wanted. Joel suggested the two of you take a walk through the corn maze which wasn’t incredibly busy. Walking side by side with Joel felt nice. It was a cold night and the warmth of his body radiated next to yours warming you right up.

“So…” you finally let the thing that you had been wondering all night escape you. “Are you dating anyone?”

“I don’t have time for that,” Joel admitted with a nervous breath, his brow line furrowing with him shoving his hands further into his jean pockets. “Between Sarah and work, not much time for anything else.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, giving him a small nod. You didn’t want to look too happy to hear that so you looked away. “So does that leave a lot of time for sex?”

“Wow,” Joel chuckled, stopping in his tracks to give you a once over. “You just jump right in, don’t you?”

“I’m curious,” you felt a warmth flooding into your cheeks wondering if you had overstepped with the question. “Someone who looks like you…”

“What do you mean?” Joel question, his eyebrow arching in amusement.

“I mean you’re gorgeous,” you were blunt with your response. How else could you put it? “Look at you Joel.”

“Thank you,” Joel chuckled under his breath, his dimples becoming more visible. You couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or charmed by your comment. It was also somewhat dark so it didn’t allow you to see the full emotion in Joel’s dark eyes. “As are you.”

Hearing that sent a rush through your veins.

“And to answer your question,” Joel began, pulling his right hand from his pocket to reach up to brush his fingers through his messy hair. “Not really.”

“Not really?” you repeated, confused what question he was referring to. You were still focused on the idea that he thought you were gorgeous.

“Sex. I don’t have much of it,” Joel admitted, biting at his bottom lip when his dark eyes locked with yours.

“That’s a shame,” you frowned realizing that you had reached the end of the corn maze leading you back out into the open area of the scare zone again. Most of the crowd was at the haunted hayride or the haunted barn. And anyone else was really sitting at the tables talking or hanging out. The area you were walking around was more for the younger kids and since it was nighttime, the area was rather empty. “How brave are you?”

“That depends on what you’re asking,” Joel asserted, turning to face you with a confused expression. “Why do you ask?”

“I would happily take you behind the building and give you a blowjob,” you offered in a whisper having Joel release a long exhale of air from his throat. His shoulders slouched forward, his brow line rising before he looked over his shoulder to see if you were alone. “I noticed that anyone that leaves that building goes out the side. No one goes behind it.”

“Wow,” Joel muttered and it made you panic. Yeah, that was forward, but you were jumping on what you could, hoping that you could get something from this moment. You were heavily attracted to this man and you had the time to try. Looking back toward the building that you were referring to, Joel seemed to actually be considering what you said. “You know…” Joel paused, looking back toward the large group of people again, “A blowjob sounds nice, but I’d much rather fuck you.”

Hooking his fingers firmly around your wrist, Joel led you through the field. Your heart was hammering inside of your chest with the excitement flooding your veins. As you rounded the corner of the building to the maze, you made sure that no one was watching when Joel firmly pushed you against the wall eliciting a surprise gasp from you.

“Can you be quiet?” Joel wondered waiting for your answer before he did anything else. Giving him a nod, you couldn’t form words. Or maybe you were just trying to prove already that you could be quiet. Smirking, Joel bobbed his head about and looked around you to check to make sure you were alone. Once he was certain that you were, he stepped forward trapping you between him and the building. Caressing in over your hips, his large palms squeezed at them with the warmth of his breath lingering over your mouth. “You are wild, y’know that?”

“Only in the best of ways,” you whispered, your hand pressing in over the center of his firm chest. It was then that Joel stole a kiss from your lips. It was actually pretty sweet for a first kiss in a moment like this. It lingered and it felt good. Tipping back, his eyes gazed over you and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. There was only a small amount of light that allowed you to see him from the flood lights the place had set up in the main area and the light from the moon. Palming up over his chest, you slid your fingers in underneath the jacket he was wearing to caress over his arms. Underneath you felt the firmness of his biceps and it took your breath away. “You are a fine specimen of a man Joel Miller.”

“Just you wait until you realize just how fine,” Joel growled, hammering his mouth down over yours. This time it was a very dominant, passionate kiss that had you tipping up on your toes to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Parting your lips allowed him to brush his tongue between your lips and you happily returned the gesture. Gasping out, you were surprised at Joel’s quickness when he turned you to face the wooden walls that someone had thrown up quickly in order to make this place. “We have to be quick, otherwise, I reckon I’d love to kiss you all night.”

Sucking in a sharp breath of air, your eyes slammed shut and you purred out at the feeling of Joel pressing in behind you. His hands caressed up over the sides of your body and then back again. Pushing his hips forward toward your bottom had your eyes coming to a tight close. God, you wanted this so bad. And it was super naughty considering you were in public, not far away from a large group of people.

Forcefully, Joel pushed up the material of your shirt and the light jacket that you were wearing. Finding the top of your pants, he hastily tugged the material getting it down to the bottom of your thighs along with your panties. The sudden coolness of the night air sent a shuddering chill throughout your body. What followed was the sound of Joel swiftly pulling open his belt and working his pants open.

“This is going to be hard and fast. We have to make it quick, but don’t make a sound or else we can get caught. D’you understand?” Joel grunted in your ear, pressing in closer to you and it took your breath away. “D’you?”

“Yes sir,” you panted, hissing out at the incredible amount of pressure that was put over your hips with Joel moving you where he wanted you. Bracing your hands against the wall of the building, you licked your lips and did your best to hold back the whine that you wanted to let out when you felt the tip of Joel’s cock tracing over the length of your sex. God, you wished you could have seen it, but all you could do was picture it when he teased it over your clit and back toward your entrance. A moment later, Joel’s hips bounced up toward yours filling you. “Fu…”

You had to bite down on your bottom lip to silence yourself, knowing the rules. The stretching feeling was immediate. Fuck he was big. Joel stepped forward, forcing you closer toward the building with your face pressing against the coolness of it. Once he got his footing, Joel’s thrusts were meticulous. They were hard and focused. Other than his breathing growing louder, Joel was doing a pretty good job at staying quiet.

You on the other hand were fighting to stay quiet. Every bounce forward of his hips had a smacking sound filling the air. Faint winces were falling from your lips and you started to eagerly bounce your hips back against Joel’s movements. You wanted to feel every part of him inside of you. It was an addictive feeling and you hadn’t even had it that long.

The smacking of his testicles against your clit with every forceful thrust forward was driving you crazy with desire. God, you wished this didn’t have to be a quickie, but still you were loving every second of it. Pressing his head further against the side of your neck, Joel’s breaths were more broken.

“You were a happy surprise,” Joel alerted you with a quiet voice, the warmth of his breath sending chills down your spine. Dropping your left hand down, you wrapped your arm around you to cup at Joel’s bottom. Beneath your fingertips, it flexed with every thrust forward he made. Soon with your urgings, he was pounding into you and you were having a hard time hiding the sounds. Curling his fingers around your mouth had you moaning out into his palm. An amused rumble fell from him with him angling his hips differently. “We have to keep you quiet now.”

Your legs felt like Jell-O. If he didn’t have you pressed up against the wall and he wasn’t keeping you up with his other arm wrapped around your waist, you were certain that you wouldn’t be able to stand on your own.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Joel slurred in your ear and it had your eyes closing shut tightly. The tip of Joel’s cock was hitting your g-spot with every forceful thrust that he made forward. Your thighs were tensing up with a fire building in the pit of your stomach. So badly you wanted to make a noise, but Joel’s hand was keeping you from doing so. With the way you were shaking, Joel must have picked up on it with his thrusts becoming more powerful. They slowed down, but the force of them had you bouncing up on your toes toward the building. And after a few more determined thrusts, it had Joel pulling his hips back and away from you when your body shuddered and a wet sound followed. With an amused rumble, Joel still kept his fingers wrapped around your lips with your body now slouched forward shaking. “I did not picture you squirting during this, but I like it…”

Joel’s free hand found it’s way between your legs to caress at your clitoris, his fingers having you bucking up toward his touch, “how do you want me to finish?”

Shakily dropping to your knees had Joel smiling when you turned to face him. Stepping forward, he allowed you to grab at his hips to pull him closer to you. Taking your time, you curled your fingers around Joel’s length, pumping his flesh in your grasp. And when he let out a shuddering breath, you took him into your mouth, working to bob your head over his cock at the same tempo you were caressing over the base of it with.

“That’s it,” Joel licked his lips, his fingers pressing in over the back of your head to help lead your movements over his erection. Wet sounds were falling from his parted lips with the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Thrusting toward your mouth, Joel was undoubtedly wanting to get that quick release so no one would catch the two of you. “Fuck…”

In that moment you felt Joel tensing up, his cock throbbing inside of your mouth. Bouncing his hips forward, Joel pressed you further down his length. The first line of his cum hit the back of your throat and you did your best to swallow it down. Continuing his release, Joel clung tightly to your head biting back the sounds that he wanted to make.

By the time he was done, he released you allowing you to pull back and away to rest on your knees. Joel’s cock twitched and you licked your lips, cherishing the taste of him that was still there. Reaching for his pants, Joel pulled them back over his hips. Working his softening cock back into his pants, Joel was quick to fix his clothes before helping you up.

“Come here,” Joel nuzzled his nose in against the side of your neck while he helped work your pants back up over your waist.

“So you’re a gentleman too?” you teased still feeling uneasy on your legs, thankful that Joel was holding onto you.

“Something like that,” Joel snorted, collecting your chin between his thumb and index finger. Gifting you with another kiss, Joel hummed against your flesh. You assumed he tasted himself against your flesh with him drawing his tongue out over his bottom lip. Looking to his watch, Joel huffed and shrugged his shoulders. “We need to get going.”

“That’s a shame,” you frowned hating how quickly something this amazing had to end.

“Nothing about tonight was a shame,” Joel corrected you, outstretching his hand to caress his thumb in over your bottom lip. “We’re just going to have to find a time where we can do this again and make it last all night.”  

[thesilverdoll]

This is the chance of ten lifetimes.

Every five years, twenty breakthrough actors compete over ten weeks for the name of TVs newest obsession, the silver doll. The winner, decided by the global audience, is historically known to make it big. You auditioned on a whim alongside your best friend, and somehow the both of you have made it to the final round of auditions!

Now, all you have to do is make the final cut, get along with your celebrity mentor, remember your lines and... win—all with a camera (or ten) in your face. Don't get discouraged, you made it this far for a reason.

❖ FEATURES

› Customise yourself! Groom yourself into TVs next biggest thing—pick your style, your approach to scenes, your public image, your strengths and weaknesses as an actor. As well as your appearance, personality, gender and your plan b... if you have one.

› Establish relationships with your peers! Befriend your competitors or betray them... engage in a behind-the-scenes rendezvous or two, try and gain a more intimate look into your celebrity mentors life, try and befriend everyone on stage, or keep to yourself and focus on winning.

› Compete! Participate in different challenges throughout the show. Put your best dance shoes on for theatre week, practice your screams for horror week, hope you don't get paired with someone waspish in romance week... decide how you approach each performance, and see how your choices impact your results!

› Furthermore... interact with your fans! Viewership is your best friend in The Silver Doll, so make sure you're on top of your social media game... or you can try to play the mysterious cards and keep away from public eye as much as possible, if you think that'll work out for you. Just... be careful how much you share, there's a gossip blog following the shows BTS that seems to know a little too much.

❖ ROMANCE

*full character profiles coming soon.

- Beck Taylor; he/him or she/her, 21.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Your childhood best friend that convinced you to audition beside them. Computer science student turned dropout to pursue a life on the big screen, Beck may not have years of acting under their belt, but they do have a natural talent for the dramatics. Plus, with you by their side and their on-and-off girlfriend, Sarika, at home cheering them on, they can do anything.

Beck is tall at 6'6, black, with dark braided hair and brown eyes.

- Stirling 'Sekani' Stokes, he/him, 24.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Sekani, as he wants to be known as, is the textbook example of a nepo baby. Born to two of TVs most recognisable faces, he's grown up in the spotlight. Sekani is here to prove to the world that he has the talent to grace the big screen, despite his family name... and also to prove to himself that acting is something he actually likes doing in the first place. Yeah… he’s a bit of a mess.

Sekani is 5'10, white, with messy black hair and pale green eyes.

- Troy Allard-Rose, she/her, 23.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎An aspiring actress since she was making her barbies perform dramatic monologues at six, Troy is here to win, and she’ll be damned if she lets some amateurs stop that from happening. Acting is all Troy knows, she’s been in performing arts schools and film camps alike— this is her dream. She won’t let anyone tell her she’s not worthy of achieving it.

Troy is 5’5, white, with platinum blonde hair and dark brown eyes.

Esra Ihimaera, they/them, 27.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Esra is a member of the production crew, and your very own cameraperson. They’re in charge of doing the closed interviews, and also take care of a lot of the day-to-day filming. A little less extroverted than the celebrities surrounding them, but their sweet heart and eye for detail makes them a whole lot more interesting in other aspects.

Esra is 5’11, Māori, with short bleached hair and dark brown eyes.

Bethany Tian, she/they, 28.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎One of the best stylists on the show, Beth is in charge of your hair, makeup and wardrobe for the next ten weeks. Talkative and energetic beyond belief, Beth is hard to get rest around, but she’s good to keep morale up. She’s styled celebrities for red carpets and space-exploration scenes alike. From SFX makeup to high glamour looks, there’s nothing you can’t pull off when Beth is the one styling you.

Bethany is 5’2, Chinese, with long pink hair and black eyes.

❖ THE MENTORS

*both mentors are romanceable

- Rome Alivia, he/him, 26.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A successful child-actor turned even more successful actor into his adulthood, Rome is a family name. Though he’s scrutinising and hard to wrench out of his working mindset, Rome hasn’t let the fame get to his head. He’s dedicated to improving his mentee’s abilities as actors rather than having a focus on winning.

Rome is 6’2, white, with brown hair and brown eyes.

- Shaan Jha, they/them, 30.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The last Silver Doll, Shaan is happy to return to the set that kickstarted their fame and fortunes five years prior. Eager to mould their best mentee into a winner, Shaan is optimistic in the best of times and downright delusional in the worst. They've proven their talents, though, and are positive it will be one of their mentees that win.

Shaan is 5'8, Indian, with long brown and blonde hair and brown eyes.

The Silver Doll is rated 18+ for depictions of drug and alcohol consumption, strong language, infidelity, and optional sexual scenes.

[01zfan]

vice | p. wb

stylist!wonbin x actress!reader | 5.7k words

why was this so fun to write LMFAOOO maybe i’m insane for real you guys. this was a request kinda but i went off on my own. needy lil freak wonbin we love you.

contains: metaphors and allusion to drugs, power imbalance (wonbin works for the reader)

at first to wonbin you were like dessert. a sweet treat for the end of the night to take the edge off of his long days.

he first met you after a long bout of unemployment, something that was common in his line of work. stylists were in an abundance these days, and each time wonbin thought he had a gig it fell through. because of his desperation for work, he ended up agreeing to take a job offered to him by his friend. the pay was shit, the photoshoot was in a studio that would take an hour to get to on public transportation, and wonbin was taking a professional step backwards by joining the team as an assistant stylist. he knew he couldn’t afford to say no so he agreed, not even bothering to ask who the subject of the photoshoot was.

when wonbin arrived the next day, he was greeted by the friend that got him the job. like always, wonbin got the rundown of the day and heard that several things had already gone terribly wrong. he nodded and followed closely behind shotaro, trying to understand what the concept of the photoshoot was and what brands they were allotted to use.

wonbin saw you for the first time when shotaro guided him behind the wall where he saw flashing lights and heard camera shutters. he barely got a glance at you, his view obstructed by a photographers and the makeup team that swarmed you between each camera click. wonbin was amazed at the amount of people, nothing like the low-brow photoshoot he was expecting. when he finally weaved through the crowd of people he caught up to shotaro and asked him who you were.

shotaro was taken aback by his question. wonbin saw his friend stop going through the clothing rack to turn towards him with his eyes wide. wonbin was informed through a tight-lipped whisper that you were an up and coming actress, one of the biggest new names on the scene. shotaro told wonbin that he was lucky to land such a good gig and if he was able to get a permanent role on the team he would be more than well off. wonbin looked back to you as he got a fast explanation and rundown of all the things you were featured in. he could see your side profile, how your hair blew in the artificial wind of the fans. 

“you know i don’t watch movies.” wonbin said, still looking towards you. 

“i suggest you at the very least watch hers.” shotaro looked back to the clothing rack, pulling the next outfit off its hangers to have it ready. “she’s pretty talented.” shotaro says.

wonbin found himself more interested you the longer he looked. you knew your angles, working them well for the camera as the raw photos appeared on the prompter. wonbin watched each one come out flawless, how you took the photographers pointers and acted on them immediately. he had seen too many actors in his time know nothing about posing for a camera, treating every photoshoot like it was a movie. but you did it well, maybe a little too well.

wonbin was only pulled away from you when he heard the director of photography call for the next outfit. wonbin turned to shotaro quickly, recalling all of his prior experience as the assistant stylist. shotaro carefully laid the clothes across wonbin’s outstretched arms and wonbin made his way over to you. 

when you looked up at wonbin from the white block you posed on, he was taken aback. he could admit he wasn’t the best judge of character but something about you just seemed to pull him in. you tilted your head and thanked him for the clothes, motioning for him to lay them beside you. wonbin complied immediately, letting the clothes rest in the free space before bowing away back to shotaro. 

the rest of the day was spent like that. wonbin running around like he was a newbie again, doing everything shotaro needed. the only relief he felt was when he would steal your attention for a moment and when he would be your only focus for a second. each time you thanked wonbin he could feel the heat across his cheeks. he didn’t know what it was, everyone else seemed to be fine around you. you had even built up a rapport with shotaro and the rest of the crew. but when it came to wonbin he was a mess, reduced to deep bows and nods of acknowledgment anytime he got your attention.

wonbin pat himself on the back when the work day was over. he came to the conclusion that being in your presence was inherently embarrassing, that he would never be able to overcome his reddening cheeks or hesitant movement when it came to you. wonbin was excited to go, but when shotaro asked him to come in the next day per your request, something in his mind shifted. he suddenly remembered your lingering looks, the way you grazed his hand and said a shy sorry afterwards. wonbin agreed faster than he should’ve, reasoning that he was just grateful to have a job for another day.

when wonbin first saw you outside of work he was experiencing another late night scouring job listings and watching youtube videos to play in the background. you came on his television due to autoplay, something only slightly related to what he was watching prior. regardless, you came on his screen bright eyed with a wide smile, and a bubbly lift to your voice as you introduced yourself to the camera. 

wonbin tried to ignore you at first, to banish your voice to the backburner of his mind as he focused on more important things. you were meant to purely be white noise to occupy his overactive brain but he kept hearing you. the sentences wonbin typed into his job applications turned into whatever you were saying on his television. so he took a break, closing his laptop as he turned his attention to you. he watched a full thirty minute video of you breaking down scenes of a movie you were in. wonbin watched the whole thing intently with zero prior knowledge of the film. the way you spoke was sweet and expressive, the complete opposite of how you treated him. 

he reasoned with himself that he pulled out his phone to figure out more about you. shotaro’s advice to watch a movie of yours played in his mind as he saw the prices to rent your most recent film. he spent twenty dollars he didn’t have to rent it, and he watched the whole thing curled up on his loveseat.

he was becoming obsessed and before he knew it, wonbin’s whole day started revolving around you. the next day wonbin came to work early with a new appreciation for you. he found himself desperately wanting to make a good second impression, to show you that he was really grateful for the opportunity to work under you. wonbin didn’t know why he wanted to show the good side of himself to you so badly, but he arrived to the studio long before your team came. he found himself lingering outside of the studio waiting for shotaro to park his car, but his friend was forgotten when your sleek black car pulled up to the curb. 

wonbin watched you hop out of the car in an outfit to match. he watched you walk through the parking lot with your entourage huddled around you like fans. you were unbothered with your black shades that you only lifted when you made it past the entryway of the studio. you casted a glance to wonbin at the last second, and he continued to turn his head to follow you. he understood in that moment why you were up and coming, you had something that could only be described as it. wonbin realized the second day how refined you were, how much you advocated for yourself. you could wear anything, from the all black street style to the colorful designer brands they had you dressed in for the photoshoot. 

when he got home after working for you he would scour the internet looking for things about you. in an effort to figure you out wonbin had seen your entire filmography within the month and he could recite almost all of your interviews. it had gotten to the point that you were getting in the way of the work he was trying to do and he was almost alarmed that he didn’t care in the slightest. he was lucky that he had been offered a position as your permanent assistant stylist after shotaro put in a good word for him.

as time went on, whatever wonbin had with you had gotten out of hand. he was able to convince himself that he was just learning about you, but he found that he needed more and more. niche interviews didn’t cut it anymore, he was searching the internet high and low for deep cuts of you. that’s when wonbin began to admit to himself he never had much of a sweet tooth. something as sugary as icecream sated his need after a bite or two. if he had to compare his relationship with you now he would compare you to the bottles of liquor or the powdery white substances that he always saw at the parties you steered clear from. you were something he got hooked on and by the time he realized it was too late.

he couldn’t blame you for being addicting, you were simply existing the same way all vices did. if anything it was wonbin’s fault. he wasn’t diligent enough, he didn’t administer you in small doses. drugs weren’t necessarily was bad if you did it in moderation. but your personality and proximity to wonbin made that impossible. he was all in, up to his neck in you and he was only sinking lower and lower.

you were just so much like him and you didn’t even know it. wonbin blamed it on the fact that he couldn’t wear the clothes he actually wanted to wear at work. he had to make sure that he was comfortable, that he could move the way he needed to when gathering clothes or running around on set. what wonbin really wanted to wear to work was the clothes he had in his closet that you also happened to own. he was able to convince himself that it was always completely by coincidence that the clothes you would wear would appear in his closet in his size. like there was someone else blowing his paychecks to have your exact wardrobe. but wonbin wore it well, and he believed that you would agree with him. 

you were mysterious just like him, a little off-putting but alluring nonetheless. you were his carbon copy—if only he could get the words out to tell you that. wonbin was only able to confess to you in his moments of solitude, when your face would flash through his mind like a bolt of lightning. he got used to whispering your name over and over again at night, just to take the edge off. you were all consuming and you didn’t even know it, the same way all vices were. wonbin believed that if he didn’t have you it would only be something worse. 

as wonbin stayed on your team as a stylist, you eventually took off. you booked important movies projected to be blockbuster hits, you were constantly booked for photoshoots and interviews. he was able to stave off his addiction to you by working for you. he was forced to be the most respectful version of himself to be in your good graces. he was lucky you had taken a liking to him to the point that he became your personal assistant. this meant wonbin got the privilege to follow you around all day like a lost puppy, doing your chores and walking your dog when it visited you on set. he fetched your food when you didn’t feel like getting up. wonbin had become your servant, and he didn’t want anything else. 

being your servant meant he got to see the most intimate aspects of your life. he knew who was in your phone, what you wore and where you ate. he was able to see the things you shared in common and the things he suddenly felt himself taking a liking to. 

the best perk was that he was able to sit in your trailer with you while you napped. after everyone else on the stylist and makeup team was shooed out of your trailer for lunch he had the unspoken permission to stay. truthfully it was because you needed someone to be there to wake you up in time. but you were nice enough to let wonbin take a nap on your tiny couch. you retreated to your bed in the back of the trailer while your manager reminded wonbin what time he needed to be back on set. wonbin nodded gently, settling deeper into the couch as his phone vibrated in his hand. 

right as the door closed wonbin slid down his notifications bar to see what it was. a new interview of yours had just dropped, a picture of you in thumbnail smiling wide with your things spread out in front of you. wonbin looked into your area of the trailer over his shoulder. he saw your feet gliding across the mattress as you laid in bed. he wondered if you were on your phone watching videos like he was. whatever you were doing, he just hoped you were distracted enough.

wonbin knew better than to watch your videos while you were in the other room. he had picked up the nasty habit of losing himself when you appeared on the flat dimensions of his phone. it was like you were in the palm of his hands, the adrenaline of feeling you talk right to him made him lose all self control. he would’ve been able to talk himself out of doing something so bold especially when you were less than a yell away. but that’s what happens when people have addictions—they do stupid things because enough is never enough. that’s why even when wonbin was on the job where you were the topic of every sentence you weren’t talked about enough. in the moments when he would literally on his knees fixing your garment he wasn’t worshipping you enough. he needed his fix and he couldn’t wait another moment. so while wonbin chewed on the nail bed of his index finger he clicked on the video with his thumb.

the orientation lock was already off from the night before and automatically went to landscape mode. the intro music crackled through his speakers in the split second it took him to turn it all the way down. wonbin looked behind him quickly to see that your motions had ceased on top of the bed. he sunk further into the mattress and spread his legs trying to keep up appearances for the invisible audience in front of him. wonbin was solely just doing his job, looking closely at your eyes to make sure the makeup came out well on camera and that your hair was styled right. he cursed himself for letting his bluetooth earbuds die, he needed to hear your voice even though he had been hearing it all day. he was forced to settle for the subtitles and reading your lips. glossy and plush, drawing into a smile each time you sheepishly explained another item in your bag. wonbin felt the urge to look over his shoulder again but he didn’t want to miss a moment. 

he abused the rewind ten seconds button while he pushed down on the tent that always formed in his pants like muscle memory. he brought his leg over the other when he saw you pull out the same sunscreen he owned.

wonbin was always in a negative feedback loop when it came to your videos. he would find a part he liked the most, a little moment of you looked at the camera with big eyes when you were asked a question or a small reaction where you would chew on your lip while in deep thought. no matter how short it was wonbin became obsessed, he would rewind it again and again. he saw you look up to the staff behind the camera for approval a million times, rewinding the video just to have it seared into his eyelids. he watched your delicate hands fiddle with each item as you pulled it out of your bag, how you took the time to sincerely explain each one.

he was too distracted by you that he didn’t know you were right behind him, watching him rewind the same part over and over again. as soon as he felt like something was behind him he heard your voice right next to his ear.

“you really are obsessed with me, huh?” you said.

wonbin instantly let his phone drop to the ground and yelled. it was the loudest he had ever been, the sound bounced off of the walls of your trailer and even made you jump. wonbin stood up from your tiny sofa quickly, rubbing his sweaty hands down his pants as he tried to think of an explaination.

“i was just making sure…” wonbin stammered.

all the excuses he had made up in his head for this exact moment were leaving him. he couldn’t think of anything when you cocked your head to the side with that knowing smirk.

“just making sure what?” you mocked.

wonbin felt red hot shame bloom over his entire body. his eyesight felt like it was blurry even though he wore his glasses and he felt short of breath. he was sure you saw the tips of his ears turn red and his hands instinctually clenching. 

you only watched him, not saying anything else as wonbin pathetically tried to think about anything else other than the churning feeling in his stomach. being underneath your scrutinizing gaze only made everything worse. when wonbin tried adjusting his pants your eyes immediately flickered down to what he was so desperately trying to hide.

he didn’t have the time to decipher the look in your eye. he just knew he had to get out of there as soon as possible. wonbin got up from the couch and headed to the door, pulling down his sweater as low as it would go.

“wait.” you said calmly.

wonbin turned around to see that you held his phone in your hand. he could see your video still playing on his screen, your demeanor on the screen completely opposite of your expressionless face. you held out wonbin’s phone slightly, moving it back and forth for emphasis.

“don’t forget this.” you said casually.

when he reached for his phone you let it fall from your hand. wonbin watched his phone fall to the floor, making a dull thud when it made contact with your carpet. he looked up to you, trying to figure out what you wanted from him. the shame coursing through his veins turned to fire as he watched you settle into the same spot wonbin was in on your couch. his phone was right by your foot, a silent dare for him to come closer.

wonbin wasn’t sure if he was still reeling off of you causing his mind to make up things. was your hand that moved to rest on your knee beckoning to him? were your eyes staring at him with intent or disgust? he didn’t know what to do anymore. he felt himself getting weak, getting closer and closer to the ground until he was on his knees in front of you.

he couldn’t mistake the smile that spread across your face as your eyes followed him all the way to the floor. wonbin remembered seeing that exact smile in the first interview he ever watched of you. it was even more intoxicating in person, the different intent in your curled lips made the churning in his stomach worsen. you looked down quickly to his phone that was by your foot and back to his widened eyes.

“come here wonbin.” you moved your foot to lightly hit the edge of his phone where the video of you still played. “come get your phone.” you said.

your words were innocent and you had genuine curiosity across your face when wonbin stayed in place. you’re one hell of an actress wonbin thought to himself. you played the role of someone who was as non-assuming and confused. he tried to figure out what his role in all of this was, who you needed him to be in your movie. he remembered that he was your loyal servant who heeded your every request. so wonbin slowly started closing the space between his body and his phone, crawling on his hands and knees slowly.

when wonbin was close enough to reach his phone he was beside your leg. he kept an eye on you the whole time, now afraid to move an inch underneath your gaze. when you leaned back on the couch wonbin drew in a breath. you opened your mouth and his body straightened and his eyes widened. 

“what do you want to do to me?” you ask.

when wonbin didn’t have the words you tilted your head to the side and batted your eyelashes. you looked so perfect from down here. pure and unsullied like snow. wonbin wanted to lean forward and take you in deep through his nose.

“i want to smell you.” wonbin sniffled.

when you spread your legs further wonbin couldn’t stop himself from shuffling forward on his knees, almost falling to his hands in desperation. before he could touch you, you put up a hand. wonbin stopped instantly, his shaky gaze going up to you.

“you have to be quiet.” you said, holding up a single finger to show that was your one rule.

when wonbin went back on his haunches to nod eagerly. you waited a beat before nodding to wonbin, hands creeping up your legs until they rested on your waist.

instantly wonbin closed the space between your legs and his body. he attached himself to one of them, kissing your jean clad knee before breathing you in deeply. he couldn’t stop himself from groaning, knowing exactly which perfume you had over your body.

“you smell like me.” wonbin murmurs.

“no.” you lift wonbin’s chin so he looks up at you. you see the blush across his cheeks when you shake your head. “you smell like me.”

you lean back on the sofa and wonbin lets his head drop, cheek resting on your knee. you can hear the whimpers bubble from his mouth, how they turn into whiny little groans when his crotch makes contact with your leg. 

“i can’t tell if you wanna fuck me or be me.” you scoff.

wonbin knew he was told to be quiet but he couldn’t help himself. not when he could feel the patchwork of your jeans rub against the most sensitive part of him. he remembers scouring the internet high and low for your pants only to find out they were custom made, one of a kind. something that was previously so unattainable was in the palm of his sweaty shaking hand. 

wonbin pressed his fingers deep into your leg as he shuffled forward to straddle your foot. he felt your skin dimple underneath his grip and you hissed before jolting your leg. the sudden movement made wonbin cry out pitifully, the pleasure of your leg moving against his crotch was so intense it was nearly painful. he moved his head to hang between your two knees as he stilled to catch his breath. he panted while pressing his forehead into the cushion of your sofa, trying his best to regain his composure. you only watched him and laughed, reaching down to manually loosen the white knuckle grip his fingers had on you.

“don’t leave a mark.” wonbin instantly loosened his fingers at your order. “i have a photoshoot tomorrow.” you said.

wonbin nodded because he knew. vogue italia. you were going to be on the cover, you and your costar were going on the spread. they were dressing you in missoni. the direction was were going for was young and fresh, marking a new generation of actresses and you were the leader. he knew and here he was, holding onto you so tight you could break.

“sorry.” your hand wedged between wonbin’s chin and the couch cushion to lift his gaze again. he looked into your dark eyes, having to swallow to try and mend his meek voice. “sorry.” he repeated.

wonbin didn’t move his hips against your leg again as a way to punish himself. he wanted to show you he had some semblance of control, that he was able to follow orders. he didn’t mind acting becoming your dog—by the way he was panting and whining he was already half way there.

“it’s okay.” you said after a beat. 

he was positive you liked torturing him. the glint in your eye never went away, and your lips were stuck in a permanent smirk at his state. wonbin was sure you tsked at him just to see the dejection across his face, that you responded only after short silences to see his pupils shake. he was sure that you unbuttoned your shirt just to watch the color drain from his face and to see his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nothing. you took the underside of your chest in your hands, pushing them upwards for wonbin to see. 

you were making a show of it just to see him become even more pathetic. you started slowly raising and lowering your leg and pressed your shin into wonbin’s crotch. he looked down at your moving leg, resisting the urge to move his hips by biting his lip.

“keep going.” you said after planting your feet into the ground.

you leg went back to not moving, but wonbin didn’t mind. he made up for it three times back, dragging his crotch on the bottom of your foot and then against your shin. 

it wasn’t long before wonbin was unraveling again, humping your leg like the dog you were turning him into. he didn’t remember what he was like before this, if he was always this desperate. he didn’t remember ever needing something as bad as he needed you. even though he would eventually get off he could tell that he would need more. you opened wonbin’s world simply by sitting in a chair, he knew that he would leave your trailer he’d be thinking about his next high.

the thought of you declining something like this happening again made wonbin want to savor it. he listened well this time, one of his hands clutched the armrest of the couch and the other gripped the cushion between your two knees. he looked away from your chest, afraid that too much of you would lead to an overdose. with his cheek pressed into your knee again wonbin started rutting his hips against your leg, trying to find any stimulation possible. 

“look at me wonbin.”

he brought his chin to rest on your knee, eyes closed as the even tone in your voice made him feel even more pathetic. it was as exhilarating as it was embarrassing, wonbin switched from rutting is hips back to the slow circular motion he started out with. the pain in his pants made him shudder, his straining dick had at some point made it out of the fly of his boxers and pressed into the cold metal of his zipper. he needed to keep his eyes closed, atleast long enough to focus on only one sensation so he didn’t start crying.

“i said look at me, bin.” you ordered.

wonbin opened his eyes, he could tell they were watery by the stinging feeling of tears threatening to break past his waterline.

his face must’ve been pitiful, because he saw the smirk go away as you tilted your head affectionately. you even looked at wonbin like he was a helpless dog. your hands went to his face, and wonbin preened his head off your knee towards your hands to feel your touch faster.

“i bet you would’ve fucking killed anyone who got the job if it wasn’t you.” you cooed.

wonbin closed his eyes to remember the feeling of your fingers holding his face then opened them just as fast. he was nodding at your statement even though your question was fuzzy in his mind.

“that’s what you wanna hear?” wonbin nodded again, not sure what he was agreeing to—he just needed you to keep talking “you probably shouldn’t even be near me.” you say.

for the first time wonbin found himself disagreeing with you. he didn’t know where he was meant to be, he lived day to day and paycheck to paycheck as a freelancer in a highly competitive profession. but he had no doubt in his mind that he was where he was meant to be, desperately humping your leg in your hotel room biting his lip to stay quiet. he just wished he could’ve articulated this to you—or at the very least shook his head. but wonbin was so caught up in that familiar tightening in his stomach that he continued nodded as he started rubbing against your leg faster.

wonbin nestled into your soft hands. he could smell the shae butter and the minty smell of the medicated ointment your coated on your nail beds. he took in another shaky deep breath that he let out when you tucked a piece of hair behind his ear.

“i can’t deny that you’re cute though.” you said.

you pulled your hands away from wonbin and propped your elbows on your thighs. you looked down at him, how he was so close to tears. you could see his large eyes begging you for more, not even bothering to hide it. there was no way this was the same quiet, elusive, and mysterious wonbin shotaro talked about constantly.

wonbin watched you lean forward until chin rested in your hands. his breathy pants got louder and he dug so hard into the cushion he felt his nails starting to bend. as you leaned closer wonbin strained his neck to get closer to your face before letting it fall back to your knee. you were testing him by bringing your face so close. wonbin could see the blemishes in your skin and the eyebags that were beginning to set it from lack of sleep. wonbin wanted to reach out and caress the apples of your cheeks that glowed in front of him.

“you’re beautiful.” your voice is sweet, and wonbin’s eyes look like they are shimmering for you. “you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen actually.” you coo.

wonbin kissed your knee and you can see the drool seeping past his lips in between his heavy moans. you can tell he’s close, his desperate hips move even faster than before and you can see his knuckles turn white from the way he grips the cushion. you rack your mind for the final blow, trying to think of the thing wonbin needs to hear to get him to make a mess in his pants. he parts his swollen lips, a tiny exhale slipping past before he strings his declaration together.

“i’m close.” he whimpers.

“mhm.” you lean close to wonbin, adjusting yourself off the couch so you can whisper directly into his ear. “we’d make a pretty cute couple, don’t ya think?” you smirk.

almost instantly, a prolonged whine erupts from wonbin’s throat. it’s high-pitched and bounces off the walls of your trailer. you feel his hips still against your leg, and wonbin pulls away from you to press his face into your leg. he muffles out the rest of his whines in your denim, and you can feel the drool filtering through the thick fabric to wet your leg. you would tell wonbin that they’re custom made and he needs to be careful, but your sure he already knows that. you only pull away and lean back into the couch to watch the man get lost in pleasure. he gives your leg a few final thrusts, and then he slumps completely against you. 

when wonbin pulls away from your leg to look back up at you, his eyes are still blown out and glassy. his chest rises and falls quickly, but he doesn’t move himself from against your leg. you start buttoning up your shirt and you can tell so clearly that wonbin wants to help you. when you let your hands rest at your sides wonbin gets the hint quickly. he stands up from his spot on the ground with shaking legs, and puts his fidgeting hands to your blouse. he focuses on the fabric as he buttons up your shirt, and you laugh at wonbin finally showing you a shred of shame. when you look up to him you purposefully bat your eyelashes and bring your hands to gently hold his bicep. he freezes against your hand and bites on his bottom lip quickly. when his unsteady hands successfully button your blouse he pulls his hands away quickly and stands in front of you. you can see the small dark splotch in the front of his pants. you motion towards the spot and wonbin looks too, awkwardly shifting on his feet when he notices.

“do you want me to send you home early?” you ask.

wonbin shakes his head no and adjusts his pants but pulling at the material gathered at his upper thigh.

“i’m okay.” wonbin says.

“you know.” you cross your legs and look wonbin up and down. you’re sure you could eat him whole and you’re positive he would let you. but you’re better at hiding your desperation behind smirks and shoulder shrugs. “maybe if you’re good we can do a little more next time.” you say nonchalantly.

wonbin adjusts his pants again when there’s a knock at your door. a moment later your shotaro comes in, takes a look at the both of you and checks the time on his phone.

“lunch is over, are you ready?” he says.

you get up quickly, shaking yourself off and casting one more look to wonbin before looking to shotaro.

“i’m ready.” you say, grinning ear to ear.

[steveharrington]

major hornets nest moment here but i must speak my truth. its so fascinating to me how will byers was clearly written with the driving motivation and intention of making him a beloved fan favorite character and instead he falls so flat that, if you asked the average casual viewer of the show who doesn't engage in the fandom like, say, your coworker, the odds of him even being in their top five of favorite characters is pretty low.

will's disappearance kicks off the plot, singlehandedly. the first episode is literally called the vanishing of will byers. his name is shouted so much in the first season that most people would recognize the reference if you used the right cadence and desperation that winona ryder does. after not being featured much in season one, you'd think season two would've just like launched will/noah schnapp into stardom with how much more screentime he's given and how dramatic his plot is that season. but instead the fan favorites of season 2 were by and large el, hopper, dustin, steve, max, even bob who's barely there. that's not to say that there AREN'T will fans out there (and online i understand there are like entire armies dedicated to him/byler, but i'm talking about the average opinion of viewers as a whole, not just in fandom spaces) but think about all the stranger things merch you see in stores, the halloween costumes, the characters that appear in promotional materials when the show has partnerships with brands....will is so rarely featured. idk if any of yall ever got the chance to visit the stranger things pop up shop in any of its various locations, but there was such little mention of will in the stores theming or merchandise that it was almost funny. actually it WAS funny, to me, someone who does not care for him

i think the flop can be attributed to many things. one, noah schnapp is just not a very good actor and he doesn't have the same appeal in his performances that millie, sadie, caleb, gaten, priah, or finn do (although finn i've noticed is also kinda falling out of favor from majority audiences). one could argue that noah schnapp intentionally isn't given much to do, which is true and i'll circle back to that, but the decline in his acting between seasons 2 and 3 is truly a sight to behold. when he's not like tied up and screaming, he reallllllly struggles on the smaller scale performances compared to the other cast members his age. he doesn't really have the charm that gaten does or the humor that priah does or the depth that caleb does. (i don’t feel bad about saying this, btw, given noah schnapp’s behavior)

back to the vanishing of will byer's screen time. my beloved prettymuchit's eric striffler commented on how diminished will and mike's roles in the story have become in s4. "noah schnapp is below the grips on the call sheet" is my fav line, but he also makes an observation on finn's role that i think is soooo accurate. when mike and will are kneeling down next to the pizza dough freezer and watching el just kinda twitch while she fights vecna in her mind, eric and his co-host miles say "this is so embarrassing! finn's like, 'oh so gaten's fighting the monster? and i'm kneeling next to a tub at a pizza place? i used to be this show" and i think the same exact sentiment can be superimposed onto will

but i think this happened naturally, as the nature of the show is to shift its focus from character to character. not to mention the duffer brothers' obsession with tweaking their story to give audiences what they want. i've always held the belief that there isn't one main character of stranger things, rather a rotating circle of characters depending on the season you're watching. season one is mike, season two is hopper, season three is el, season four is max imo. again that's a little subjective and arguments could be made to swap those a little, but overall i think those characters stories and point of views take center stage during each of their respective seasons. by season 3, the duffers wanted to kick things up to a larger scale. the UD is no longer targeting just will, it's targeting the entire town. this works because a THIRD season in a row where this one kid specifically gets possessed would just be bonkers, so they kinda had to let him take a backseat. i'm not sure why they didn't let will be more involved in the mystery-solving portion of season 3....to this day that decision baffles me, but what's done is done and the will that everyone watched in season 3 literally just kinda follows everyone around and gets a small little slice of a plotline about wanting things to go back to normal, but alas

it like totally worked, though. though there are MANY complaints commonly made about season 3, i've never heard anyone offline complain that there wasn't enough will byers. i think the group in s3 that had the most success like, commercially, would be scoops troop and then a bit farther back i think most audiences enjoyed hopper/joyce/murray's dynamic. i think if there had been a huge outcry in the minimizing of will's role, the duffers would've backpedaled immediately. they aim to please. they can't even commit to killing of a main character out of fear that audiences will lose interest if we permanently lose hopper or max, so they just do some creative writing that allows them to milk the emotional consequence of those characters deaths without actually writing them off. if audiences on a large scale demanded that will be center stage, he would be. but they dont!

final point: i think will gets fucked over by the duffers obsession with romance. in season one, two of will's strongest dynamics are with his mom and brother. which like, yeah. theyre his immediately family and he is 12. but in seasons 2 and 3, jonathan spent all his screen time with nancy and from 2-4, joyce has spent all her screen time either with hopper or in the pursuit of finding hopper. these characters are written together as a package deal, typically. it was refreshing and unexpected to see jonathan get a whole season with a friend of his very own and his siblings, but they barely took advantage of that. jonathan and will get ummmm one (1) scene to talk about their emotions in a fucking 20 hour season. it's hard for will to be a main character when he rarely gets to interact with the people that make up the other half of his main dynamics.

as for byler, im of the belief that it will not be endgame because i just don't think they're going to break up mike and el at this point. i could be completely wrong and stand corrected, but im like 90% sure lol. i do think that will's s4 storyline resonated with a lot of people. even eric striffler! i think the issue is that the vastttt majority of people who watch this show above the age of like 15 do not feel invested about the romantic relationships between any of the kids. because why would they!!! theyre literally in middle school for 3/4 of the show. you would be hard pressed to find a vocal will stan online who doesn't also dedicate 90% of their engagement with the show to byler. which makes sense, because most if not all of will's scenes revolve around mike to some degree. but according to neilsen, the majority of stranger things audience is consistently in the 18-49 age range season by season. its more likely for adult audiences to identify with adults (or characters who are narratively treated like adults, like steve and nancy) than with any of the kids. esp when the kid in question, despite being written as the focal point of the show, has less relevant plotlines, less interaction with other characters, and an actor who just doesn't deliver on charm the way his fellow younger costars do

[should-know-better]

I think that Silverscreen is about that horrible interview

I've looked at the lyrics to Silverscreen over and over again, and just couldn't relate to them being about Alex or Hannah. Something just didn't feel right. For a start, when the song was written, Miles and Hannah hadn't broken up - in fact, they were together for another four months - so although the song appears to be about acting, I felt it couldn't be about her.

Then, there was consideration, that it could have been about Alex and the façade of his straight behaviour but the line 'patent boots, lipstick rouge' didn't fit (interestingly years later, Alex did have some patent boots for The Car tour).

I think that this is Miles' angry song about the RB interview in Spin Magazine (I refuse to even use her name).

Two-faced Johnny, hotel lobby A two-faced person is someone who is not sincere and says complimentary things to your face, but horrible things behind your back. 'Johnny' or 'Little Johnny' is a character often used in funny jokes or anecdotes, so Miles is creating a juxtaposition here. The interview did take place in the lobby of the Bowery Hotel in New York. In many of Miles' songs, he sets the scene in the first line.

I won't go up without you This is similar to what she reported he'd said. Growing up, Miles and Alex would have seen many British tv shows which had many double entendres in them (the Carry On films, Open All Hours, Are You Being Served to name but a few), and much of this humour is seen throughout their interviews. It's of a specific time and it's difficult for some non-UK people to fully appreciate. This is why she took the quip the wrong way. When interviewers say that Miles and Alex are talking in their own language, I feel that they don't realise that they are quoting different comedy lines to each other, to make each other laugh.

Patent boots, lipstick rouge, For the first time today, I looked up online pictures of RB and discovered that she does indeed wear bright red lipstick. There's black boots, but too difficult to say if they are patent.

hang on the edge of champagne flutes She works by writing about people who are rich and successful, literally, a hanger-on to the music industry.

Misdemeanour, gossip cleaner, She's made out that he has done something wrong, and she's created gossip. 'Cleaning up' is a phrase that means making money.

overacting table reader. Ego driver, loose-lip liar A table read is a run through of the script, done by actors just speaking the lines, i.e. there's no action. Nothing happened. She's making it out to be more than it actually was, (building up her ego) by suggesting that a rock star would try to seduce her. She's a liar.

driving my head in A colloquialism - 'doing my head in' is a phrase used in the North of the UK, meaning, it's making me so angry, I can't stop thinking about it.

I can't see silverscreens, He's saying to her, it's no good acting, this is not a film

you won't leave it alone, I don't care what you mean, I don't buy your next scene She repeatedly interpreted aspects from the interview the wrong way and he can't believe what she's written about him. Also, the repeat of 'you won't leave it alone' could refer to that it was reported that she didn't accept his apology.

Surface tension, I won't mention, liar, liar, liar ha This either refers to the tension in the interview itself, or the tension that the interview has created afterwards for Miles. She lied about it and made his comments out to be more than they were.

Dirty finger, constant linger, driving my head in A dirty finger means 'fuck you' as in when you show the middle finger to someone. Miles is still angry about this interview, months later, when he's writing the song. The interview was in March, he wrote the song in September. Perhaps the repeated phrase of 'you won't leave it alone,' also is him talking to himself. He can't get over it and he thinks about it a lot.

We know that Miles says that he is truthful in his lyrics, but in the John Kennedy interview, he says: "yes, it's a real angry one, it's like, I wanna keep a bit of the mystery there..." knowing full well that bringing this up again would do him more harm than good.

As usual, these are just my thoughts and interpretations on the lyrics and I don't mean to open up a can of worms about the RB interview again. Any comments are welcome 😊

[ooeygooeyghoul]

How to make a child model in Anam/Ktisis!

Disclaimer: I am NOT an expert in the use of these mods! I'm still very new and learning the ins and outs of them! This method worked for me, and maybe there are better ways to do it, but I'm just explaining how I created my baby Shiun. If you know of a better way, or have any tips and tricks, please feel free to comment or reblog with your advice for the sake of other gpose newbies! :D Link to Ktisis's download page | Link to Anam's download page Guide and Tips/Warnings below the cut! Hope this helps <3

Summon your partner in crime. So first off, I equipped my summoner job stone and summoned my trusty companion, Carbie.

2. Add your Carbie to your actors. Open up Anam and add your carbie to your list of actors, by clicking the plus sign at the top of the menu next to your character's name (remember that with Anam, you can only edit appearances OUTSIDE of gpose). Click on the little button labeled "Carbuncle" to add them.

3. Turn your Carbie into a person. With your Cabie selected, go to the "Import NPC" at the bottom right and pull up the list. Find an NPC that is the same race as your desired character and select it. In this example, I just chose the first au ra NPC I saw in the list. (You can also directly choose your desired race in the customize menu and start from scratch, but I just do it the Import way, lol) ⚠️As far as I've experienced, it's a 50/50 chance on whether or not you can alter the age of your character's actor directly. Every time I've tried this, it breaks the model and never works the way it should. For simplicity's sake, I've always just used my friend Carbie.

4. Change the age of your new actor. Now if you look at the top left of the Anam window, there's a series of dropdowns next to "Race."

What you want is the bottom right menu. Click it and you'll see "Old," "Normal," and "Young." Clicking "Young" will turn your carbie into the child version of the race it's currently disguised as!

5. Customize and boot up gpose! Now you can customize them to be the adorable mini version of your beloved WoL/OC!! The bones are compatible with Ktisis and should be as easy to manipulate and pose as adult models. If you use the Carbie method as I have in this explanation, you can simply hide your main model in the default Gpose menu for pictures.

Some things to keep in mind! ----

⚠️Not every race has a child model. The only races that have child models are:

au ra - male & female

hyur - male & female

elezen - male & female

miqo'te - female only

⚠️It is very likely that the models will break or look a little funky when you first spawn them. They have a very limited number of faces, and a limited number of available hairstyles. If you choose an option the game does not have, it will create some... interesting results. Most other customizations beyond skin color, hair color, and eye color will also likely not work (tail type/length, jaw type, etc.).

Left: invalid face selected --- Right: invalid hairstyle selected

Usually, faces 1 & 2 are the only viable options, and hairstyles 1-5 are okay. (Note: the pictures of the hairstyle icons will NOT match the hairstyle on the model.)

⚠️Clothing is also fairly limited! I'm not sure what dictates what child models can and cannot wear, so as far as I know, it's just a game of trial and error. You'll know immediately if an article of clothing isn't compatible lmaoo. Hats... rarely ever work...

✨Don't forget that you can save your model's data! When your model is customized to your liking, click "Export" at the bottom right of the menu to save the data to Anam. That way, you can load the appearance immediately without rebuilding it every time!

It's a mixed bag of what will and won't work on the model. My best advice is to experiment and play around with it! It took me a little bit to figure all of this out, so hopefully this silly little explanation helps out all the other new gposers out there :)

If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to reach out and ask! I'll do my best to help! I may edit this as I go to correct things and/or add onto it!

[littlecello]

Lazarus: An Autopsy

So. I just got back home, and though I have to get up at stupid o'clock for work tomorrow morning, I am sitting down at my computer to give you all as much of a detailed write-up of the table read as I can. Please bear in mind these are my and Fern's opinions personal opinions, so if you disagree with anything said here, that's totally fine! This is all coming from the perspective of people who have been in the fandom since 2012 and 2009 respectively, and both of us love the show very dearly.

Now, without further ado - here is a summary and discussion of the table-read of the pilot episode of Lazarus. The detailed write-up is under the cut, but I want to share this shaky train-doodle I banged out on the way home to give shape to my own feelings:

Set Up

This was a dramatic table-read, meaning actors were sat on stage, taking the roles of the main and side characters, plus one narrator who read out the scene-set ups in the script. This was a complete reading of the pilot-episode as it would have aired on TV, complete with songs playing over the speakers as they appeared in the show (off the top of my head - Another Brick In The Wall, Somewhere Over The Rainbow (Ukulele Version), Life on Mars (yes they went there), Merry Christmas Everybody, and several more). It's important to note that this was not performed by the original actors; rather, they brought in a troupe of actors associated with the BFI, called the BFI Players. Unfortunately they aren't credited on the BFI website and there were no printed programme notes, so I can't tell you their names. Notably, though, Ashley Pharoah (co-writer of LoM) was present; after the table-read, there was a short-ish Q&A session.

Lazarus Pilot: A Summary

We start in 2024, with a car chase. Sam Tyler, now DCI of Internal Affairs of Greater Manchester Police, is hot on the pursuit of a Constable who we later learn has raped multiple women while on duty. Notably, Sam is driving exactly the way Gene would, ignoring regulations, nearly running over pedestrians and a cyclist. Sam apprehends the PC on the campus of Manchester University, which is filmed by the assembled students of the lecture that's been interrupted (a quote from the script: "heteronormative queer trans students") - that video subsequently goes viral as another example of police violence. It's clear that the PC is guilty of his crime, but he's let off, and most of CID pretty much turns against Sam. Sam's DI, incidentally, is biromantic and asexual, which is also turned into a joke with Sam making some acephobic remarks.

The next day, Sam finds the rapist PC dead - hanging from a lamppost as though he's died by suicide. CCTV reveals that about an hour before his death, a car idled in front of his home, and the PC had hurled abuse at said car. The driver cannot be seen. That same car is seen at a carehome in Didsbury, idling there just like it did in front of that house... and that car is also confronted, by none other than a geriatric Gene Hunt.

Here is where we start to realise that this Sam is different. It seems he never went back to 1973. He never had that accident, he never met Gene Hunt - he is, however, married to Annie Cartwright (only until half of the episode though, at which point she says they need to get a divorce). A lot of anachronisms going on here, but those will get explained a little later in the episode. Sam also starts having visions - first of a Space Hopper that keeps passing him by, later Clangers from the Planet of the Clangers appear to him. He keeps remembering lines we've heard in Life on Mars ("I never stitched anyone up who didn't deserve it", "If you can feel things you are alive, but it's when you can't feel things that you know you aren't alive", etc). Eventually, he goes to visit Gene in the care home and invites him for a drive, to see if that will jog any memories.

Gene, however, has other ideas - he eventually forces Sam to stop by the roadside, insisting "I'm going back! I'm going BACK!" The two start arguing, and then it devolves into a physical fight, which pushes them into the road... at which point, they are both his by a car. A red Audi Quattro, in fact, and just as everything fades to black, we see someone with white cowboy boots and a white leather jacket get out of the car...

1977. Sam wakes up utterly hungover in the Cortina, next to Gene who's driving. These are their 70s selves. They get to the station, where they find out that they've both been suspended due to Gene assaulting the Superintendent ("I didn't assault him, I strategically placed him... in a bin."). The department has been disbanded and taken over by none other than Derek Litton. Sam and Gene leave, with Sam driving home... to his wife Annie. On his way, he realises that he must have dreamt about 2024, and obviously doesn't understand what is going on. He talks to Annie about it, who becomes upset that he's starting to talk about all the future stuff again. It becomes clear that the case that Sam was investigating in 2024 (the dead rapist PC) is mirrored in 1977. And, crucially, near the end of the episode we realise that Gene also has memories of what we saw happen in 2024... and just at the end, when Annie is on her own, she suddenly sees the video footage mentioned at the very top (the fight at the MU) playing on the TV, and realises that Sam was telling the truth.

The Good

Let me start with the really enjoyable part of this afternoon - the actors who performed the script for us. They all did a brilliant job, especially Sam's actor. I'm pretty sure he must have studied up on John Simm's performance, because he got Sam's tone and cadence so closely to the original that I could really believe he was the character. The production was done well too, with the songs being played over the speaker system; plus, the narrator was absolutely brilliant at setting the scene, reading the descriptive bits of the script with loads of character and humour. The other actors were great too (Litton got a fantastic impression). The only one I wasn't convinced by was Gene's actor, because he gave his Manc accent a very theatric drawl that sometimes made him sound like a pirate. Definitely didn't come close to Philip Glenister's brilliant delivery of his lines.

Speaking of lines, there were some genuinely funny jokes in this. The whole scene with Litton was hilarious, and some of the modern-day jokes landed quite well too (Sam's DI pulls an "ok boomer" on him, to which he responds "that's Gen X I'll have you know").

And of course, I have to mention that it was SO LOVELY to meet a bunch of you in person!!!! It was lovely to chat, and thank you especially to @bisexualroger and friends who came and said hello, you genuinely made my day 🥹 The Bad

Sigh. Buckle up.

This table-reading really cemented for me what I've been saying for several years: The writing in Life on Mars is very mediocre. What made the show so amazing and special was the fact that the crew and actors took that material and elevated it to the heights we know and love. If you take that away... All of its shortcomings become very glaring.

This was even more obvious with Lazarus. Although we have to remember that this was a pilot, which means it was basically a sales pitch to studios and as such they tried to cram as much exciting stuff into it as possible, on the whole it just came across as very confused and embarrassingly self-referential. The characters often (but not always) came across as caricatures of themselves. The script often pointed out the race/ethnicity of characters in ways that felt very unnecessary and strange (more on that later). Most of the dialogue that took place in 2024 was incredibly stilted (again, more on that in a little bit). Most crucially, although it's clear that Lazarus was trying to bring Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes together to tie them up in a neat little bow, it just felt far too all over the place, even for a set-up episode (Lazarus as a whole was planned to be two series with 6 episodes each, like LoM). The Ugly

Basically, this show was supposed to be commentary on the present-day commentary between the public and the police... written from the perspective of two Old White Men(tm) with an unhealthy amount of nostalgia for the past who seem to think of the police as literal guardian angel, which is why they made Gene an actual angel (this is confirmed by what Ashley told us the ending of Lazarus would have been, which I will write up tomorrow because this would be too much for this post).

So, what does that mean in practice? It means that everything that was set in 2024 was an absolute shitshow. There were jokes about "wokeness" in every scene - things such as gender identities, diversity, ethnic food, vegan food, recycling, climate activism and more were only ever played for laughs, with a clear emphasis that everything was better in the "good old days". Especially all the jokes about gender and sexuality made me so angry, seeing as the fandom who has kept the show alive for the last 10 years is overwhelmingly queer.

Worse than that, this show would have been absolutely choc-full of copaganda. We already learn in the pilot that the entire philosophy is that "bad cops" are simply "rotten apples" that need to be removed from the force, which can only happen from the inside (this is Sam's role as DCI of Internal Affairs). And also, the public are just way too mean to cops, for no reason whatsoever - this is very literally shown in a scene in 2024 where a male PC touches a drunk woman's arm in sympathy and she yells at him "DON'T TOUCH ME", whereas in a mirrored scene in 1977 we see a PC giving a woman advice, who seems to be extremely grateful for it and even squeezes his hand for it. Which, if you know ANYTHING about what was going in Manchester at the time, in the wake of the Yorkshire Ripper and the associated police failings, is laughable at best, and an insult at worst.

Furthermore, during the Q&A, Ashley Pharoah unintentionally told on himself and Matthew Graham. I'm paraphrasing, but he basically said that when they both realised during the watchalong on twitter back in 2021 there still were a lot of fans of the show, that's when they felt compelled to properly give Lazarus a go. It very much came across as him saying "we loved the attention and wanted more of it, oh and also we thought we had something to say about the state of affairs regarding the police". Which, as I have laid out above, frankly is a sick joke. After everything that's happened - the protests in 2020, the way police forces in the whole country handled the Sarah Everard case, the fact that the current Chief Superintendent of GMP is an old conservative guy - the fact that Matt and Ash had the audacity to shop a show like Lazarus around to be picked up for TV is... astonishing. The confidence of white men, eh?

In Conclusion

Both Fern and I are very, extremely glad that Lazarus was not, and never will be made into a TV show. We are very glad that we get to keep Sam, Gene, Annie and all the others as they are. And we are also very glad that we went to this table-read, since we can now stop wondering what could have been. It's done and dusted. And, funnily enough, this has invigorated my fandom fire for LoM. I now want to create art of the characters I've come to know and love, to reinforce who they are to me. They are our characters now, Ashley and Matt. You don't get to play with them anymore. You don't get to twist them and put them through the wringer.

Tl;Dr

[godfrey-the-chaos-duck]

this is without a doubt the weirdest thing I have ever done

SALUTATIONS, HELLAVERSE FANDOM! 

You probably don't know me, but my name is Godfrey. (Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!) 

To be quite honest, I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing here. As I type this, I'm unspeakably nervous.

"Why are you nervous, Godfrey?" I hear you ask.

Well...

I have a dream

I'm here to tell

About a fanfic I wrote for Hazbin Hotel 

(sorry)

Okay okay serious director voice from now. 

Look, this is gonna sound absolutely unhinged, but hear me out. (insane rambles under the cut, this bitch is LONG)

In April, a friend and I had a conversation about a song I wrote and how it was. Well, kinda coded to Vox and Valentino.

Then one thing led to another, and two-and-a-bit months and twelve thousand words later, I had written an absolutely sprawling shitshow of a fic (details later in the post)

Even as I was writing it, I knew the written word didn't do it justice.

Hence, this post. 

(golly, this sounds really demanding, I am so sorry)

Fuck it, my mom always says "if you don't ask you don't get", and for once I want her to be right.

This is, I suppose, a sort of... call to action, for lack of a better term.

Artists, animators and voice actors, I'd like your help to turn this fic into an animatic, or if we can manage it, an actual animation.

ONLY if we can manage it, not if it's gonna stress anyone out.

IMPORTANT NOTE

Just to get this out of the way, not that I should even need to say this but it's unfortunately 2024. If anyone even SUGGESTS using A.I. your ass is getting blocked. I don't fuck with that artificial bullshit.

On to my next point: I am unequivocally in support of artists and actors being paid for their work. 

However, I am a Broke Bitch. Unless we could somehow do crowdfunding or something, I physically would not be able to pay people. This makes me feel like a very shitty person, but unfortunately it's the truth, and I want to be upfront and honest about that.

This is why I hope to get as many people on board as possible for this project, so nobody has to do a shit-ton of work.

I understand that most of you are busy, with work, school/college, or life generally life-ing. Join the club, my life is hectic too.

This is why I really have no set deadline for this. Whether it takes a few months or a few years, as long as it's done well with a minimal amount of stress.

Well, now that that's out of the way, time to go into details a bit.

Characters in order of appearance (this is mainly for VAs)

Vox

Valentino

Velvette 

Angel Dust

Charlie

Husk

Alastor

Vaggie

Lucifer

Niffty

Sir Pentious

Asmodeus (yeah this is slightly a Helluva Boss crossover)

Frank (the egg boi)

Fizzarolli

Katie Killjoy

Tom Trench

And lastly, depending on what everyone else thinks, I have an idea for how Verosika and Zestial can be involved. 

Will there be musical numbers?

The short answer is YEAH, cause Hazbin is a musical. I cannot stress enough how much the music is My Problem. Literally, apart from people singing, I will take care of that.

My Idea Of The Process 

(please bear in mind I have little to no idea of how the animation process works so this is almost definitely wrong, please feel free to correct me about it)

Step 1. Storyboard

Step 2. Voice lines and songs get recorded

Step 3. Animatic (this could very well end up being as far as it gets and that is absolutely cool beans)

Possible Step 4. Animation

Finally, I'd be more than happy to be the one to edit all the clips together. Editing is its own kind of hell, and I'm totally willing to take one for the team.

The Vision

This is. (fffffff) this is the part that's gonna make me sound like a Draconian jerk but I promise I don't mean to come across this way.

I'm hoping to have something that's as close to the style of the show as possible. (this video kinda has the right vibes) This is so the final project will look cohesive and somewhat professional. (god that probably sounded so bad but I genuinely have no idea how else to say it)

TO BE ABSOLUTELY CLEAR. I have nothing against artists with other distinctive art styles, in fact I've come across several that I absolutely love.

Regarding The Writing

I've never directed anything before, so forgive me if this is crossing a line, but like. 

I have my vision for how I want this to go and I'm kind of. not overly flexible on that. Obviously ideas that people have to get this to work good are more than welcome, but they might not end up happening.

Not to be a dick, but I am sorta the director so I do kinda get to make the call on that stuff. (ew god that felt odd)

If this gets off the ground, I'd have to turn this 12,000 word fic into a script to make it easier for people to read it and not get bogged down by my weird old-fashioned poetic style. This would be sent out to people who express interest at some point.

Just a heads-up: If you're expecting an AO3 link I am so sorry but it's Google Docs, mainly because this thing is wildly self-indulgent and I, for one, do not fancy attracting potential haters. Most people are nice, some are very vocally not. Besides, what would be the fun if everyone knew the story in advance?

BASICALLY

If you're interested shoot me an ask and I'll answer privately (OFF anon pls, I wanna know who I'm workin' with here!) or DM me and I'll get back to you.

If you see this and know someone who'd be interested, feel free to tag them or send this post to them.

I am gonna tag @achilleanauthor (my right hand man over here) @emeraldcity1900 and @onesidedradiostatic as they're kind of the only blogs I know who are I guess. Active in the Hellaverse fandom.

If this gains enough traction and I get people on board, I'll be setting up a Discord server (another first for me). 

Watch this space, and as Alastor would say, "Stay tuned..."

[denimbex1986]

'If Peaky Blinders made the Irish actor a household name, will Christopher Nolan’s nuclear blockbuster send him into the stratosphere? He talks about extreme weight loss, hating school and why his next character won’t be a smoker.

Cillian Murphy is struggling with what he can and can’t say about his title role in Oppenheimer, the latest Christopher Nolan epic, such is the secrecy surrounding this film. Murphy is under “strict instructions” not to talk about the content. Which is awkward when you’ve flown to his home in Ireland to interview him specifically about playing the physicist who oversaw the creation of the atomic bomb, later detonated over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It’s not clear who issued these instructions. Nolan? The studio? The US government? All I know is that as well as Murphy being gagged by hefty NDAs, I am not allowed to see it (“bit unfortunate”, he concedes).

So, yes, here we sit in an empty upstairs room of a restaurant near his house in Monkstown, Dublin, working out how to do this. The room is dark, the sun shining through a solitary Velux lighting his features like a Géricault. The only background noise is the low hum of a wine refrigerator. Murphy loathes interviews, looks visibly tortured at points. But he relaxes when I ask if he’s pleased with Oppenheimer. “I am, yeah,” he says. “I don’t like watching myself – it’s like, ‘Oh, fucking hell’ – but it’s an extraordinary piece of work. Very provocative and powerful. It feels sometimes like a biopic, sometimes like a thriller, sometimes like a horror. It’s going to knock people out,” he adds. “What [Nolan] does with film, it fucks you up a little bit.”

Nolan wouldn’t disagree. The director recently told Wired magazine that some of those who’d seen it were left “absolutely devastated … they can’t speak”. Which sounds like a bad thing, but is related perhaps to the thought of the 214,000 Japanese people, overwhelmingly civilians, who lost their lives when the bombs were dropped. Kai Bird, the historian who co-authored American Prometheus, the 2008 biography of J Robert Oppenheimer upon which the film is based, said he was still “emotionally recovering” from seeing the film, clarifying that it was “a stunning artistic achievement”.

Murphy’s portrayal is said to be astonishing (“Oscar-worthy” is the buzz). This is not unbelievable. While Hollywood might not know him as a leading man, this quietly intense actor has long been celebrated in the UK and Ireland, most notably for his nine-year stint as Tommy Shelby in Peaky Blinders. When he first appeared on our screens, looking like a renaissance painting of Saint Sebastian – chiselled head contrasting with translucent blue eyes – it was impossible not to be distracted. He appeared first on stage in Enda Walsh’s Disco Pigs, then the screen adaptation. Then 28 Days Later; Intermission; Ken Loach’s The Wind That Shakes the Barley. Previous collaborations with Nolan include the Dark Knight trilogy, Inception and Dunkirk, “significant milestones in my career,” he says, adding that Nolan “might be the perfect director”.

It was Nolan’s wife, the producer Emma Thomas, who called Murphy one afternoon at the home he shares with his wife, artist Yvonne McGuinness, and two teenage sons. Nolan doesn’t actually have a telephone, or an email, or computer for that matter: “He’s the most analogue individual you could possibly encounter.” So, Emma said Chris would like a word and passed the receiver, then the director came on the line. “Cillian, I’d love you to play the lead in this new thing,” he said. Murphy tries to recreate his response to this news. “I was lost for words. But thrilled. Like beyond thrilled.” It is characteristic of Murphy that the modulation of his voice barely changes as he expresses this. He was so stunned, he had to sit down. “Your mind explodes.”

In the absence of the three-hour feature, I scrutinise Oppenheimer’s three-minute trailer. It’s a rush of snapshots against the crackling of a Geiger counter. There’s Murphy, short back and sides, lifting 1940s eye goggles; blue and red atoms coming at him fast; orange light; white light; blackout; silence. Massive explosion against the backdrop of space. Overlaid is Murphy’s narration, “We’re in a race against the Nazis / and I know what it means / if the Nazis have a bomb.” There’s Matt Damon looking porky as army general Leslie Groves, director of the Manhattan Project: “They have a 12-month head start.” Murphy, pointing with cigarette: “18.”

He has put back on some of the weight he lost for the part, I’m relieved to see; his skin isn’t quite so taut over his skull and there are freckles over those eagle-wing cheekbones. He was determined to nail the scientist’s silhouette “with the porkpie hat and the pipe”, testing himself to see how little he could eat. “You become competitive with yourself a little bit which is not healthy. I don’t advise it.” He won’t say how many kilograms he lost, or what food the nutritionist told him to cut out. NDA? “Ach, no. I don’t want it to be, ‘Cillian lost x weight for the part’.”

Then again, the hurtling speed at which Nolan worked, crisscrossing the US, made it easy to skip meals. Murphy began to forget about food in the same way he began to forget about sleep. “It’s like you’re on this fucking train that’s just bombing. It’s bang, bang, bang, bang. You sleep for a few hours, get up, bang it again. I was running on crazy energy; I went over a threshold to where I was not worrying about food or anything. I was so in it, a state of hyper …” he gropes for the word, “hyper something. But it was good because the character was like that. He never ate.” Oppenheimer subsisted on little more than Chesterfield cigarettes and double-strength martinis, rims dipped in lime. “Cigarettes and pipes. He would alternate between the two. That’s what did for him in the end,” Murphy adds, a nod to the scientist’s death from cancer in 1967. “I’ve smoked so many fake cigarettes for Peaky and this. My next character will not be a smoker. They can’t be good for you. Even herbal cigarettes have health warnings now.”

I raise method acting and Murphy tilts his head and frowns. “Method acting is a sort of … No,” he says, firm but with a half smile. Oppenheimer had many defining characteristics, not least walking on the balls of his feet and a vocal tic that sounded like nim-nim-nim, but Murphy didn’t want to do an impression. Nolan was obsessed with the Brillo-texture hair, so they spent “a long time working on hair”. And the voice. The real question for Murphy was what combination – ambition, madness, delusion, deep hatred of the Nazi regime? – allowed this theoretical physicist to agree to an experiment he knew could obliterate humankind. “He was dancing between the raindrops morally. He was complex, contradictory, polymathic; incredibly attractive intellectually and charismatic, but,” he decides, “ultimately unknowable.

“Listen, it’s not like a spoiler,” he says, checking himself before he leans in, “but there are incidents in his early life that were quite worrying; very erratic.” They are in the film and the book, he steers. I suspect he is referring to Oppenheimer’s postgrad at Cambridge in 1926, when he placed a poisoned apple on the desk of a tutor towards whom he harboured complicated feelings of inadequacy and jealousy. Arguably, this was attempted murder. But Oppenheimer’s rich New York parents rushed in to bundle him into psychoanalysis. He was diagnosed with “dementia praecox”, a term describing symptoms associated with schizophrenia.

Murphy likes these complex characters; they’re his meat. People that don’t necessarily follow the – yawn – traditional transformative arc of storytelling. Not villains, exactly (although he’s played a few, including Scarecrow in Dark Knight and Jackson Rippner in Red Eye): “Villains are good if they’re well written, but if it’s one note or a trope, then they are dull.” He likes a script to stretch leisurely into all corners of the human condition, “all the shades”. At the same time, you have to understand his exceptional ability to portray interiority, physically manifesting intense human emotion without a word, radiating fierce, consuming energy. Which he does today, actually, when I stray off track.

Although Nolan is usually, shall we say, antiseptic in his approach to romance, Oppenheimer represents a significant shift. He told Wired the love story aspect “is as strong as I’ve ever done”. It features prolonged full nudity for Murphy and Florence Pugh, who plays Oppenheimer’s ex-fiancee, as well as sex, and there are complicated scenes with Emily Blunt, who plays his wife, “that were pretty heavy”. Murphy turns coy: “I’m under strict instructions not to give away anything.”

He asks if I’ve heard of chemistry tests. “They put two actors in a room to see if there’s any spark, and have all the producers and director at a table watching. I don’t know what metric they use, and it seems so outrageously silly, but sometimes you get a chemistry and nobody knows why.” This is a roundabout way of saying his scenes with Blunt and Pugh conjure this magic. His established bond with Blunt (they co-starred in A Quiet Place II) meant “the audience gets something for free”, he says. “You can be immediately vulnerable and open, and try stuff. There were moments where I remember saying, ‘I couldn’t have done that if it wasn’t with you.’”

Murphy, 47, grew up the eldest of four in Cork. His father was a civil servant, his mother a French teacher. They were a middle-class family, musical; his father “can pick up any instrument”, his brother played piano, and they regularly got stuck into “traditional Irish sessions”. Bookshelves were stuffed with literature, the radio often on, the “shitty” TV set not so much. Home life was busy but his parents taught him French and Irish, and sent him to an all-boys academic, rugby-playing private school. “I got all the education” he says, drily.

The story of how much he disliked the Presentation Brothers College, the hard-drinking masculine emphasis, how he found solace playing guitar in a band, is much rehearsed and he says today he doesn’t want “to slag the school off. I hear it’s great now.” Something about this experience seems nonetheless unsettling. He had one friend, who is still his best friend, “so I wasn’t, like, an outcast”. He played rugby for the first couple of years, but abandoned it “because everyone was all of a sudden towering over me.” Was it an unhappy time? He shifts. “It was OK. I was a bit of a messer, like I’d get in trouble and say nothing. It wasn’t the ideal school for me.”

He enrolled in and dropped out of a law degree at University College Cork, which created some friction with his parents (when I ask if his own sons will go to university in Dublin, he says, “Whatever they want”). He continued with the band, his first creative love but the one that got away. When they were offered a contract with Acid Jazz records, he turned it down for a number of reasons, he says, crucially that he didn’t feel good enough. He still writes and plays at home but, no, you won’t be hearing any of his recordings, ever, he says.

It’s a funny thing talking to Murphy. He’s at once garrulous (on the craft, or literature, or ideas) and reticent (pretty much anything else). I sense in previous interviews that he skates over issues close to his heart – such as the expression of emotion in Ireland and the need to teach empathy in schools. But when I try to drill in to these topics, get to the root, he clams shut, emitting energy like a nuclear reactor.

Later, in a different context, he will tell me a truth: “I’m stubborn and lacking in confidence, which is a terrible combination. I don’t want to put anything out that I don’t think is excellent.” But he clearly hates the pantomime of publicity, asking why I am returning to certain topics and repeating lines I’ve read elsewhere. I can almost see him at home with its views towards the Irish Sea, complaining to his wife as they tuck into supper: “Another one, asking the same fucking questions.”

If he could get out of going to Cannes, of standing on red carpets, dressed as is his habit for a funeral, hair shellacked, hands in pockets; if he could turn his back on the coloured-foam mics thrust in his face, he would. He really would. No, it dawns on him now, there’s something even worse than the red carpet; there’s the talkshow rounds. The very word “talkshow” comes out of him like a pain from his ribcage, as if the parcelling out of amuse-bouche anecdotes, offering them up to the forced laughter of that false god of show business, the studio audience, is in itself the most cheapening experience known to mankind.

“I do them because you’re contractually obliged to. I just endure them. I’ve always found it difficult. I’ve said this so many, many times.” Then there’s the double wince of realising that, yes, he’s done it again. He’s laid into the industry that feeds him. His hands raise slowly in surrender. “I want to just caveat this by saying, I’m so privileged. I’m so happy to be doing what I love. I’m really lucky. But I don’t enjoy the personality side of being an actor. I don’t understand why I should be entertaining and scintillating on a talkshow. I don’t know why all of a sudden that’s expected of me. Why?”

There’s an awkward silence. I say that he reminds me of Naomi Osaka, the tennis player who refused to talk to journalists after the French Open in 2021. He says he feels “100%” sympathy with her, “because why should she have to perform?” Then he relents. “But I get it. I get it’s a kind of ecosystem where the film feeds the publicity which feeds the talkshows which goes back and feeds the film, so, like, that’s how it works. I suppose I’m just not good at it. At interviews, at this stuff,” he gestures at me. He says after he leaves me today he’ll be going down the stairs thinking of all the things he’s said and worrying it’s come across all wrong. “Do you know what Sam Beckett said? ‘I have no views to inter.’ I love that. That should be the interview.”

We return to his art, the tension falls away and he’s back to his charming self, charged air evaporating. Since Oppenheimer, he’s also wrapped Small Things Like These, an adaptation of Claire Keegan’s brilliant novella set in 1985 in a small Irish town on the edge of which is a convent and “laundry”. Murphy is a huge fan of Keegan. He remembers reading her 2010 novel Foster on a train and having to pull his hoodie over his face because he was crying so hard. Anyway, he’d wanted to work with the Peaky Blinders director Tim Mielants and they were throwing ideas around in his sitting room when Murphy’s wife suggested Small Things. “No, there’s no way,” Murphy said. “That’s going to be gone already.” But when he called the agent, he found it was available. “I went, ‘No, you’ve got to be fucking kidding.’” Murphy pitched the idea to Matt Damon, who has set up a studio with Ben Affleck. “From there it all just happened really quickly.”

Murphy plays Bill Furlong who, funnily enough, is a man of few words. Keegan’s light-touch writing is everything he loves in art – the sense that you are not being bashed over the head by an idea. That’s how he tries to act, he adds. “I’m always trying to cut lines in scenes, because I feel like you can transmit it. Like when you see a person on a train thinking, or driving a car, and you are purely observing someone and feeling the energy that is vibrating from them. That’s the sort of acting I love. In a lot of film and television, they want to cut those bits to go to the action. I like films that pose the big questions and then leave it to the audience.” Perhaps this is at the heart of his reticence in interviews? That he doesn’t feel the need to explain.

He still finds it “nuts” that the last of the Magdalene laundries closed in 1996, that it was illegal to buy condoms in Ireland until 1985, that divorce was made legal only in 1996. He remembers vividly thousands of people still going to see moving statues in Cork when he was growing up. “Crazy. But, like, how far the country has come since then, we’re so socially advanced now compared with where we were. But you must look back. And art is a better way of doing that than reading all these reports [into the laundries].” (Afterwards, he emails me: “The nation is actually dealing with an unresolved collective trauma. Who knows how long this will take to heal, but I feel strongly that art, film and literature can help with that process. It’s a kinder and gentler sort of therapy. I hope that our movie can help with that in its own little way.”)

Because he’s a nice man, because he doesn’t want me to feel bad about our encounter, and because he’s generous and hospitable, Murphy finishes by telling me some of the best places to visit in Ireland. He and his family are staying here for the summer. They’ve had it with air travel and his home town of Cork is only a couple of hours away. He supplies me with other recommendations: a great book he’s just read, Brian, by Jeremy Cooper, oh, and there’s the Francis Bacon studio exhibition I should catch on my way out.

But before I go, what has he learned from playing Oppenheimer? Foremost, he says, that scientists think differently. He knew this already from playing physicist Robert Capa in Danny Boyle’s Sunshine (2007) and hanging out in Cern, home of the Large Hadron Collider in Geneva, for research. “I had dinner with all these geniuses. I’ll never understand quantum mechanics, but I was interested in what science does to their perspective.” He sought their opinions on subjects that matter – love, politics, our place in the universe, “infinity, or whatever the fuck. Because they have a completely different way of taking in information than we do. I remember one scientist saying, ‘I don’t believe in love. It’s a biological phenomenon, the exchange of hormones between the female and the male. That’s all. Love is a nonsense.’” Murphy taps the table with his hand. “I couldn’t go along with that, obviously.”

[aragarna]

Zorro Vive

And vive bien!

So, I've finished Season 1 of the new Zorro show (available through Amazon in the US and most Spanish and Portuguese-speaking countries), and I really enjoyed it!

Without spoilers, I'd say that its main qualities are that it's fun and earnest and more cosmopolite in its retailing of the old story. It doesn't take itself too seriously, there's plenty of little homages to previous adaptations. There's many interesting and well-developed characters - of all genders and ethnicities.

It's (literally) colorful, with a comic/pulp feel that suits it well. There's been a true care brought to the action scenes, and OMG the night scenes are damn well lit. It's rare enough nowadays so points for that. Generally, the show is quite beautiful.

More spoilery thoughts under the cut.

I honestly wasn't sure what to expect from a new show. It's always hard to bring new canon to something so established and so iconic. And even though the Disney show is *not* the original canon, for a lot of people, it is.

But as a principle, same as for book adaptations or remakes, I'm not opposed to variations or changes. As long as they're good changes.

And I have to say, the vast majority of the changes in the new Zorro show, to me, were actually good changes, or necessary improvements for today's audience.

The most obvious is giving back a real voice to the Natives and not sugarcoating the colonization aspect. There's tension there. Natives are angry. But as years passed, people born there consider themselves "true Californians". Natives aren't just background characters or peons anymore. They're a driving plot force. They're shown in their own environment, with their own rites (I don't know enough about Natives of this area to know how accurate it is, but it felt a lot more authentic and respectful to me than other versions).

I do like the idea that the Zorro character comes from the Native culture, and that it's been passed on from one person to the next. Though it also brings my one big issue with the show: Diego becoming Zorro reads a lot like "a white dude steals a Native heritage." And yes, it's symbolic, and yes the fox spirit chose him, Diego didn't pick him, but still. Given that the audience is meant to support Diego (who really is a sweet guy!), that the narrative keeps showing us that Nah-Lin is wrong and should accept it, given the colonization context of that story, it's sitting a bit wrong with me.

This aside, I do like the exploration of revenge vs. justice, violence vs. a more measured response, in the face of adversity. When a few months back, the tagline "revenge is personal, justice is for all" appeared on the first poster, I wasn't sure what to think. I don't like revenge-driven characters. It's cliché and wrong. But the fact that the show precisely explored that, both with Diego and Nah-Lin, was actually quite interesting.

Diego, as I said, is a decent guy. A sweet boy really, vaguely immature originally but having to mature really fast, as the death of his father, the business of the rancho, the Zorro thing and Lolita's wedding are all dropping on him at once. Miguel Bernardeau is a clear departure from most of the previous Zorros, who were played by older actors, giving a more "adult" vibe to the character, but given he's supposed to be fresh out of college and out of his element, Bernardeau's more juvenile features fit the character well.

Nah-Lin is a lot angrier, and while in the context of the story, she's shown to be going at it the wrong way, all that anger *is* justified, and not something that can just be brushed off. Peace can't come easy when you anger people that way.

And you know who else I really liked? That damn Capitan Monasterio! Who would have thought LOL No, but seriously. Not sure why they named him that way. He was actually more of a Sergeant Garcia (or Mendoza from the 1990 show) than a Monastario. Obviously without the comic relief and cutely incompetent side of the character, but as the character who is a decent guy stuck between a rock and a hard place, serving a tyrannic boss and chasing a heroic outlaw that he may not hate that much.

I also really liked what they did with Lolita. An opinionated young lady that throws away all the corseting conventions of her time is always very relatable to me. Also, I just love her fashion sense. I wasn't sure what they were going to do with that impossible love triangle (I thought for a long time the wedding wouldn't actually happen). I wouldn't have thought they'd have Lolita figure it out, but I'm glad she did.

I'm glad they kept Bernardo, the mute confident. And I love Mei, too. The dynamic between the three of them (with Diego) is great!

Also, it's great to finally have a Spanish-speaking production, and have the characters speaking in Spanish, instead of having American actors put on fake accents.

I may have a couple of minor complains: namely that I didn't care about Samael nor Alejandro's first love. Not sure planting so early something that they're keeping for S2 is a right move. Feels like a waste of screentime. Also, I'm not particularly found of secret societies trying to rule the world, but it seems to be mandatory to any Zorro story... And the finale episode didn't actually wrap up that many plotlines - every major villain escaped! So that kinda made it look like Zorro didn't accomplish much, apart from breaking Lolita's heart, and his. But none of this prevented me from having a good time watching the show. I just really hope there'll be a S2 cause it'd be a shame to leave things there!

How about you guys? What did you think of it?

[gabessquishytum]

(Based on a combo of someone else’s story somewhere on tumblr and an experience I had at a performance of Twelfth Night several years ago)

Normally, Hob wouldn’t be caught dead at a Shakespeare performance, even if it was at the Globe Theater itself. But thanks to a bet or a bribe or something, tonight he’s found himself attending a production of Hamlet.

Things are looking up though when the titular character appears; the actor, Morpheus Endless, is gorgeous in a bit of a haunting way, perfect for the brooding Prince of Denmark. And when he enters, before he even says his first line, “Hamlet” sweeps his eyes over the audience… and clearly does an interested double-take when his gaze lands on Hob.

Well then.

Morpheus is an excellent actor, and his performance alone might be enough to change Hob’s opinion on Hamlet (though not the rest of Shakespeare!). But whenever possible, he is frequently glancing over at Hob, and every time his looks are heated and intense—it almost doesn’t even appear to be breaking character at all, save for the fact that it’s always in Hob’s direction.

By the end of the show, Hob is already trying to work out the quickest route from his seat to the stage door (also wondering if it was presumptuous if he detoured to buy a congratulatory bouquet at the flower stall he saw on his way in next to the entrance, or if it’d be too great a risk of getting stuck in line and end up missing his chance). But then during the curtain call, someone brings out a bunch of red roses, and though it’s unclear who starts it, a brief little game begins of the cast tossing the roses out into the audience and the audience tossing the roses back onto the stage, rinse and repeat until the cast finally ends it and head offstage. In the midst of this, when Morpheus gets his hands on a rose he immediately tosses it to Hob, and upon seeing Hob catch it, he gives him a small devastating smile and lightly blows him a kiss before exiting.

Well then. Hob just thought he needed to fuck this man, but now clearly he needs to take him out on a date as well (and possibly marry him afterwards, depending on his opinions on Elizabethan drama beyond Shakespeare).

And that’s the meet-cute story of how Hob and Morpheus first met, having sex in Morpheus’ dressing room and then going out for a pint afterwards, talking until the early hours of the morning (then heading back to one of their apartments to have sex again).

And from then on, whenever Hob starts in on one of his Shakespeare rants, his husband Morpheus never fails to tease him about his soft spot for Hamlet.

-🪽anon

I love the idea of them being immediately and equally slutty + starstruck for each other!! Hob definitely has to reevaluate some of his prejudices (he prefers a good, bloody revenge tragedy - Hamlet is usually far too namby-pamby for his taste, but in this case... at least he's HOT).

Morpheus honestly wasnt expecting the hot guy with the gorgeous eyes from the audience to come and find him. He doesn't usually get that lucky with the guys he fancies. But Hob (and isn't that quite the name!) is even hotter when he gets closer, tugging shyly on his ear and congratulating Morpheus on his performance. He ends up getting on his knees for Morpheus right there in the dressing room and giving him the most spectacular congratulatory blowjob in the history of blowjobs. Morpheus has definitely never struck lucky like this before.

Of course, there has to be a catch. Morpheus discovers later that Hob thinks that John Webster was a better playwright than Shakespeare?! Obviously Morpheus has no choice but to educate him on the finer points of good tragedy. They stay at the pub until closing, arguing fondly and sipping on the (quite delicious) Shakespeare themed cocktail. Hob doesn't seem to be letting go of his wrong opinions, but his arm around Morpheus’s waist is enough to make up for it. Hob finally takes him home, lays him out on his sheets, and proceeds to make him cum so hard his legs are still shaking at the matinee performance the next day.

By mutual agreement, there is no drama, Elizabethan or otherwise, at their wedding. Despite Desire's best efforts...!

[random-imagines-blog]

Ambulances {Robert Downey Jr x Teen!Reader Oneshot} 

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3483 Summary: Being the youngest actor on the MCU is a dream come true - but why doesn't you feel as good as you should? Notes: Talks about depression.

This was meant to be everything that you ever wanted. The chance to work on one of the biggest franchises the world had ever seen. Appearing in a huge movie, and then getting the chance to star in a television show afterwards, all about your character. Possibly more movie appearances. Getting paid so handsomely that if you were careful, you wouldn’t ever go into debt. Rubbing elbows with some of the biggest and brightest stars in the world. Chris Evans, Robert Downey Jr, Scarlett Johansson, Benedict Cumberbatch. And you weren’t even out of high school yet. You were supposed to be living the dream.  

Then why did it feel like it was spiraling down into one of those nights where you don’t remember your dreams? It wasn’t a nightmare. There were negatives but nothing that you didn’t expect going into the acting profession. You didn’t hate your job. You didn’t hate your character. You just - started to feel nonchalant about the whole thing. Nothing at all. It started off with not feeling as excited as you used to when you woke up in your trailer to go to set. You were tired and had to drag yourself out of bed to go to hair and make-up.  

Robert was getting his done, his iconic Tony Stark facial hair being trimmed and shaved perfectly. You muttered a good morning before taking your seat, and one of the makeup artists came to work on you. 

“Rough night, kid?” Robert asked, raising an eyebrow at you.  

“I don’t think I slept that well,” you said. “Just - couldn’t get out of bed today.” 

“That’s called being a teenager,” He chuckled.  

“Yeah, probably,” you said, forcing out a chuckle back. You would just chalk this one up to a bad day. Everyone had those. You were able to pep yourself up for your scenes, and work through them without any issues. It was good to focus on something other than yourself for once. Get into the character. Become someone else for a little while. Someone who was mighty, and strong, who got out of bed each morning without trouble - unless they were beat up, which because this was a superhero movie, happened quite often. But you declined going out for dinner with everyone else, just saying that you were tired and headed back to your trailer while they went out to enjoy themselves.  

You looked around your trailer once you were inside. It was quiet in there, save for the very faint buzzing of electricity that was powering the lights. You collapsed down on the small couch where you usually went over your lines but - you couldn’t think of what to do. You didn’t feel like doing ... anything. There was your gaming console set up by the tv, a stack of games - but you didn’t feel like playing them. There was Netflix and Amazon Prime and Disney Plus and Hulu - but you didn’t feel like watching anything. There was your laptop, but you didn’t feel like website surfing. So, you just - sat there. Doing nothing. Feeling nothing.  

Your phone went off. You could see the name on top. One of your best friends from back home. Someone that you usually loved to talk to. But you just ... didn’t feel much like talking to them. A stab of guilt made its home in your stomach once the screen went dark again, knowing that you should have answered it. There was no reason to ignore them. But you still didn’t move. Just letting this feeling of ‘you should you should you should’ take you over.  

-- 

You didn’t even remember falling asleep - and you couldn’t remember if you dreamt or not. One minute, you were sitting on your couch, staring blankly ahead of you, not even thinking of anything, and the next, you were still sitting there but there was light coming in through the curtains and your alarm was going off on your cellphone.  

You were astounded at yourself. You’d never done this before, never felt this way before. You forced yourself up and into the shower but there too, you didn’t feel like doing much of anything. It all felt so ... tedious and worthless. How many times in your life were you going to waste time, standing here in the shower, washing your hair? How many times were you going to cover your loofa in bodywash and lather yourself up? Doing it all today just to do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day. It felt so dull. 

And when you got out, all squeaky clean and put on a random hoodie and jeans to head out to hair and makeup, yet again, you didn’t feel as good as you usually did. Usually, a shower was just the thing that helped you start the day. You felt good when you were clean. “God, what’s wrong with me?” You muttered to yourself as you went into trailer and took your seat. 

This time it was Chris Evans that got there the same time you did, sitting in the opposite chair. “You missed a fun night,” he said, grinning at his phone. 

“Oh,” you said, looking straight ahead of you into the mirror. You forced out a laugh that didn’t feel real. “Next time, next time.” 

“I’ll hold you to it. They had some of the best tacos that I’ve ever had-” Chris said, turning into an excited puppy as he often did when he found something that he liked. Usually, it was enough to make you cheerful. But you just tuned him out, not having the attention span for this conversation. Or maybe it just wasn’t the energy. 

The makeup artists started on you, having to use a bit more concealer than they usually did. “Make sure you get all eight hours,” The artist reminded you.  

“Yeah, sorry about that,” You forced a chuckle. She covered your dark circles expertly, patting on powder to try to make it look more natural, and then you were out there to get ready for the shot of the day. You had a bit of time until you actually had to be on the set, since you were just coming in at the end of the scene, so you sat down and just ... watched. You didn’t really say anything to anyone. You weren’t in the most sociable mood. You let your mind wander, your body being present, but your mind was far away.  

“Hey kid,” A voice snapped you out of it. You blinked a couple of times and looked to see that Robert was sitting right next to you. You hadn’t noticed because you had been so busy thinking about ... you couldn’t even remember. That was more startling than Robert’s voice coming out of nowhere. You had no idea what you had been thinking about.  

“Hey,” You nodded, and then looked back out to the set, watching Chris Evans and Scarlett working together on a scene. “I didn’t know you were supposed to be on set today.” 

“‘m not, but I got bored so though I’d check it out,” he said, crossing his arms in front of him. Robert Downey Jr was intimidating, not because he was tough or scary, but because of his long career, and how he managed to recover from some pretty drastic dips. “You seem a little glum, chum.” 

“No, I’m just ... tired,” you said. It felt like a flimsy excuse, but you didn’t have one that felt better. It must have sounded weak as well, because Robert took off his sunglasses in a very Tony fashion and slipped them into his front pocket.  

“Just tired?” He asked. “You coming down with the flu or something?” 

“That could be it,” You nodded, clutching onto that idea. Maybe you had just gotten sick. Maybe there was a bug going around. There was always some kind of bug going around. It would explain your increase in listless behavior. You weren’t always the most active person, but you had been able to keep up with Marvel’s standards for their actors, but now that you were finding it harder, the flu made perfect sense. “Yeah, I think it’s just the flu. Better not get too close, huh?” 

“I’m not worried, I get my shot every year,” Robert said, casually. “You know - you could come to one of us if something is wrong, right?” 

It almost felt like an accusation of sorts. Like he could see right through you. See something that you were having trouble seeing in yourself.  

“Yeah, of course, you’re like - the best mentor ever,” You nodded, forcing on another smile. Just the flu, nothing was seriously wrong, it’s not like you could be ... depressed or anything. You didn’t have time to be depressed. You weren’t in the right business to be depressed.  

Your name was being called by the director, so you stood up quickly. “Gotta go. Good talk.” 

“Yeah, good talk,” Robert said, watching your back as you walked away. He saw something in you that he saw in himself, saw the beginning of something that he had struggled through for a lot of his adult life. And he didn’t want to see you struggle through it, at least not alone. He was going to be keeping an eye on you - two if he could spare them. 

-- 

It felt like the longest month of your life. It just dragged on, and on. There were at least four times that you had almost quit the movie. Where you brought up your manager’s number on your phone and almost pressed dial because you wanted out of your contract. It didn’t matter how much money you would owe the studio, or that you would be blackballed in Hollywood. Nothing felt like it mattered anymore. Your gaming system and laptop were collecting dust, literally, you had drawn a sad face on the system in the dust. You didn’t go out with the rest of the cast anymore, claiming other plans or that you weren’t feeling well, and spent the time in your trailer alone, with the lights off. Not because you were hiding but because you didn’t care to turn them on. You’d just be turning them off when you went to sleep so what was the point? You woke up, you dragged yourself out of bed, you went to set, and then you went back to your trailer and back into bed. You’d doom scroll through social media but not interact with anything.  

You went through the horrors of the world like you were trying to prove something. Or use it as a reason to be the way that you were being. The world was a crazy, unhappy place, so of course you were unhappy. Of course, you were falling into a depression - which was something that you could no longer deny. This wasn’t a few bad days, or the flu, or just feeling uneasy. This was full on, falling through the cracks, feeling worthless, depression.  

You didn’t deserve to be here. You weren’t putting in the work that you should be, which made you anxious about your performance, which made you feel even worse. You felt like you were just an imposter among all of these stars, you didn’t earn your place among them. It should be someone else here. A star like - Jenna Ortega, or Noah Schnapp, would fit in here better than you could. You were messing up your lines, having to have someone feed them to you through a small earpiece that couldn’t be seen on camera. You were given warnings by the director to shape up. You didn’t even cry when you were given that criticism. You didn’t get mad, you didn’t feel proud that he cared enough about you to want you to do better, you just felt numb to it, and returned to your bed like you did time and time again.  

It was after you spent an entire weekend in your bed, not showering, only eating what you could grab quickly and bring back to the bed, which was all the unhealthy stuff, not even changing your pajamas once, that you admitted that you had a problem. That you were forced to deal with the cold reality that - you weren’t coming down with the flu, but that this could seriously be depression. You couldn’t live in the denial of it anymore. 

You knew you should call your parents. Maybe your manager. Maybe even your family doctor to get a referral to a therapist or something along those lines. But there was only one person that you could think of talking to. 

You forced yourself into a shower, found some clothes that smelled relatively clean and didn’t have any stains on them, and put your shoes on for the first time in days. The sun was shining, and you had to admit that it felt kind of nice on your skin after so long. The crew were running around, getting things prepared for today’s shoot, which you didn’t have any part of. A free day, at least for now.  

You walked past a couple of the trailers, looking for the right one. A sign in the door had his name in big block letters, and you saw that he had drawn a little Iron Man underneath it. It wasn’t very well done but it was recognizable. You knocked on the door and then put your hands in your pockets, looking around to see if anyone was noticing you lingering outside. 

The door opened and Robert poked his head out. His cool expression warmed up when he saw you standing there. “What’s up kid?” 

You looked at him and you tried to think of exactly how you were going to say this. He already knew the meaning behind you coming to his door. But - he was still going to make you say it. You just had to say it. 

“I think - I have a problem, Robert,” You admitted. It was the first time that you said it out loud. Your first outside admission that something was wrong. You were putting it out into the universe because that’s the only way that you could get any sort of help.  

“I thought so,” Robert said, stepping out of his trailer. “Come with me.” 

-- 

He didn’t take you straight to a therapist or to the hospital or anything else that you had fared he was going to do. Instead, he took you to a small ice cream parlor near the studio. He bought you a sundae, loaded with all of your favorite toppings, even if you didn’t necessarily feel like eating something sweet right now. You didn’t feel like you deserved the treat. 

“Go on,” Robert urged, digging into his own with a plastic spoon. “You admitted you have a problem. That’s step number one, you deserve it.” 

It was like he could read your mind. He knew exactly what you were thinking and why you weren’t eating. So, you picked up the spoon and you dug it into the mess of ice cream and toppings and sauces and took out a large scoop and put it into your mouth. The sweetness ... actually tasted sweet. It didn’t taste like ashes on your tongue like a lot of food does these days. Eagerly, you went for a second scoop, and Robert was looking at you like you were a child of his that he was proud of.  

“I - I don’t know if it’s depression exactly. I’ve never really been depressed before,” You admitted, stirring your ice cream to make it a little softer, a little easier to eat. “As far as I know, it doesn’t run in my family. And ... it’s not like ... I feel sad or anything. I don’t cry...” 

“Depression isn’t just about feeling sad. Everyone feels sad,” Robert said, taking a bite of his own. “It sucks the life right out of you. It makes you lose your spark. Your passion. Any pleasure that you have in life, it just ... takes it away.” 

“That ... is how I’ve been feeling,” you said with a small nod. “I know it’s ridiculous, like, I’ve got my dream role and -” 

“It doesn't matter, kid,” Robert said, kindly. “You could be the happiest, richest person on the planet, and you can still get depressed. It’s not about deserving it. It’s just something that unfortunately happens.” 

You kept stirring your ice cream rather than eating it, watching the toppings drown under the melting cream. It was hard to take in that this was something that was actually happening to you. It was like a car crash in a way. It happened to other people. It was never supposed to happen to you. 

“So, what do I do?” You asked, slumping back. “Because I can’t ... I can’t be this way. It’s exhausting. I’m forgetting my lines, I can’t concentrate, I keep fucking up scenes and I feel like everyone is mad at me -” 

“No one is mad at you,” Robert said, pointing his spoon in your direction. “Everyone is worried about you. I think we all had it figured out before you did. Did you know that Evans has social anxiety? He works on it every day. He’d be another good person to talk to about all of this stuff. It’s different from depression but ... it has some of the same struggles.” 

“I’ll try to remember that” You mumbled. “So really, what do I do? How can I... get over this?” You plead. You put all of your trust in Robert here. He’d become a leading figure in your life since you joined the MCU.  

“It’s a disease,” Robert said, sadly. “It’s not something where you just take two pills and you’re done. There are medications that’ll help you out, but they take a little while work, and sometimes, you have to go through a couple of different ones to find out what works for you. Though what I’d recommend is therapy.” 

“Therapy?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed together. “I don’t even know what I’d say. I don’t have some ... deep childhood trauma that I can just point my fingers to. I don’t even ... know how to explain how I feel.” 

“You did a good enough job with me,” Robert pointed out.  

“That’s because I know you. I’m comfortable with you. And you knew what it was before I did...” 

“Why don’t I give you the name and number of the therapist I’ve been seeing for years. They’re really good,” Robert said, taking off his sunglasses and making straight up eye contact with you. “Or - they can help you find someone who fits you best. That’s important. You have to feel comfortable talking to them. There’s no shame in trying to find the one for you.” 

You groaned and put your head down on the table, the metal feeling cold against your forehead. You were hoping it was going to be easier than that. That it could just be like antibiotics, take two a day and scare the depression away. But of course, nothing was ever going to come that easy in this life. You were going to have to work for it. Just like how you worked hard for everything else that you achieved.  

“It’s going to be a trek,” Robert said, clicking his tongue, spooning up more of his ice cream. “But I think you can handle it. You took that first step, now you just have to make a phone call.” 

He took a card out of his wallet, and he slid it across the table to you. A professional business card, the name and number of a therapist. You just looked at it from your position on the table, your head turned onto its side now. “Do I have to do it right now?”  

“You don’t have to do anything,” Robert shrugged. “It’s up to you when you’re ready.” 

You sighed again. You missed the days when your parents used to make the phone calls. Used to schedule your appointments for you. Made sure that you got there on time. That was one of the annoying parts of being an adult. You had to do it yourself now. 

You raised your head and read the card again. The name of the doctor in a neat, no-nonsense font. You took another spoonful of your ice cream, took your phone out of your pocket, and started to dial the number, looking at Robert the whole time who gave you a thumbs up. It was going to be a rough road but - at least you could honestly say that you were not alone. That helped more than anyone could ever understand. 

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

Chaeri's Masterlist

Take it too far

❒ words: 1.1k+

❒ summary: In which Namjoon is concerned about Chaeri's health

❒ prompts requested: 29 "When was the last time you ate something?"

❒ warnings: Weight loss; neglecting

Early 2021

Chaeri stepped off the scale, pleased with her results. She had never been fixated on being very thin; she had always eaten healthily and exercised often to achieve a body that she was proud of. But due to her role as the lead in the TV series 'My Name,' producers asked her to lose a few pounds. 'Our leading character neglects herself and is obsessed with revenge. Her physical appearance should reflect this idea' they said. Chaeri thought it was fair; actors frequently take drastic measures to best portray their characters, such as shaving their heads, gaining weight, slimming down or growing beards. Shedding some pounds wouldn't hurt her.

But as the filming began, she realized that losing weight wasn't the only thing she had to sacrifice for the role. Long hours on set coupled with her busy schedule as an idol left her with little time to eat. She often forgot to have meals or skipped them altogether, and it wasn't long before she started feeling the effects of it.

Yet, she refused to acknowledge the impacts of her actions as if ignoring them would make them go away.

She had lost count of the number of times they had rehearsed Butter's choreography, but it didn't matter because they still weren't perfect. Sweat poured down her face and stuck to her neck as she took a swig from her water bottle in the corner of the practice room. She couldn't believe how tired she was, and they hadn't even been there for two hours yet. 

"Let's break for lunch and then try again" Hobi suggested as he picked up his gym bag from the floor and grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his face.

Chaeri nodded, her stomach growling as if in agreement. At that moment she would've eaten anything.

"I just hope all this sweat doesn't fall into the bowl" she joked, taking a playful swipe at Taehyung, who was walking past her.

Taehyung playfully dodged Chaeri's swipe, laughing. "Don't worry, we'll get you a bib" he said, grinning. 

As they made their way to the cafeteria, Namjoon walked up beside Chaeri. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, noticing the tiredness in her eyes and the way her hand rested protectively over her stomach. 

Chaeri offered him a smile "Yeah, just a little hungry." 

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, "That's all?" he asked skeptically, knowing that there was more to Chaeri's exhaustion than just hunger "You have been working very hard lately. Don't tire yourself out"

"I'm fine, really. Just need some food and I'll be good to go"

Namjoon didn't look convinced, but he didn't push her further. Instead, he decided to keep a closer eye on her from then on.

By then, Chaeri’s meals were often interrupted by someone from the staff reminding her of her obligations. She would apologize to everyone at the table for having to leave, insist they save her plate, only for it to be thrown away the next day. This became a frequent occurrence, as did being woken up at all hours by her manager since most of her TV series filming started before sunrise due to her grueling idol schedule that kept her active until late into the night.

"How long have I been asleep?" he had heard her say sleepily to her manager.

"Forty minutes sweetie. I'm so sorry to wake you up, but we have to go."

"Don't worry, just give me a couple of minutes."

Namjoon watched as Chaeri struggled to keep up with the demands of her busy schedule. He noticed how she had lost weight since filming began, and her energy levels seemed to be at an all-time low. He had to help her.

As they rehearsed their routine, Chaeri stumbled and nearly tumbled to the ground. Namjoon caught her in time, and her frame leaned into his body. "I'm sorry," she spoke weakly. As he clasped her arm to hold her upright, Namjoon felt a deep sensation in his gut upon feeling how light she was.

"Let's take a break, ok?" 

Chaeri nodded, following him as everyone dispersed to make the most of those minutes of break time.

She sat on the floor, resting her back against the huge mirrors in the room, her breathing laboured. Namjoon crouched beside her, his hand resting on her leg. "Chaeri, have you been eating well?" he asked gently. "Because if you're only eating what I see, I'd say you're really not"

Chaeri bit her lip and nodded slowly, her eyes cast downward. "I have been trying to," she admitted in a voice barely above a whisper, "but it's hard with everything going on."

"When was the last time you ate something?" he asked gently

Chaeri furrowed her brows, trying to remember. "I had half a sandwich yesterday morning" she said after a few moments.

Namjoon frowned, concern etched into his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself as he watched Chaeri’s fatigue deepen with each passing moment. In that moment, he knew what he had to do "That's not enough" he began, squeezing her leg reassuringly "You need to take care of yourself, Chaeri. You can't keep going like this"

Chaeri sighed, leaning her head back against the mirror. "I know, but it's difficult. I don't always have time to sit down and eat a full meal. And when I do, it's usually something quick and easy, like a protein bar or cup noodles."

Namjoon took a deep breath, watching as Chaeri's eyes began to droop and her body grew even more tired. He knew he had to do something to help her before things got worse. 

“I’m going to make sure you’re eating better, okay? I’ll bring you food and make sure you have time to eat properly. You can't keep going like this. It's not good for you." He spoke with a firmness that belied the warmth of his gaze as he made his way towards the door. "I'll bring you something to eat right now," he promised, "and after we finish rehearsing, we'll sit down and have a proper meal together."

Right as Namjoon was about to leave the room, a man from Chaeri's staff came barging in. Without skipping a beat, Namjoon turned and pointed his finger at him, "Don't you dare try and bother her. She's on a break."

The man seemed startled at first, but then regained his composure. "I apologize, Namjoon-ssi, however we must speak with Chaeri urgently."

Namjoon's eyes narrowed as he took a step closer to the man. "Whatever it is, it can wait. Chaeri needs some time to rest and eat."

The man hesitated for a moment, but then nodded reluctantly before leaving the room.

Namjoon slowly shifted his gaze to Chaeri. Her face was tired, her eyes were rimmed in a deep red, and there was a look of deep appreciation in her expression. "Thank you, Namjoon," she said softly. "I'm not sure what I would do without you."

He smiled reassuringly at her "You won't ever have to find out, I'm here for you now and always"

taglist @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @ycuvi

[olympiansowl]

Look, I don’t know if I’m passing as an anti-shipper or not, everyone kinda knows that I’m obsessed with Miriel and Elendil, but I’m a little bit traumatized when actors say nice things about a shipp, and then they proceed to go to the “might never happen, the character isn’t emotionally available” thing. Anyone who knows me from the Ted Lasso fandom might actually remember what I said on Twitter about that kind of behavior. Specially when they say something nice on interviews and in the next they’re like “not gonna happen” and even more when they switch modes. One says something, the other says another, they switch roles and the first is saying what the second said, but the second changed his mind and now is saying the same as the first one.

Like, everyone knows, at this point, what happens in the books and what doesn’t happen, but the thing is that nobody is 100% sure of what they can and cannot adapt since they use things from Silmarillion, like the names, but they also create things. The producers said that they only have the rights to the four books (lotr trilogy and the hobbit) so we don’t know if they’re going to proceed with her death or whatever. It’s kinda sad having a cold water being thrown in my face in the very end of the season, after such a hopeful episode. And a very romantic one, regarding the shipp. Everyone sees the romance, it’s not just on the fandoms mind, so, in my opinion, it’s kinda sad when people just demise it as a “it is what is, it might never happen, they might never talk about it” specially when we consider that none of those characters had a single moment of peace. Even the characters who most give the “we want but we can’t, it won’t ever happen” vibes (Sauron/Galadriel) kinda have an admission and these two don’t? Like, they’re just letting each other die or go away without even saying it? I’m sorry but I find that sad, a bit cruel and even unbelievable.

I know that a lot of couples simply don’t end up being fine in the Tolkien world, but we’re talking about an adaptation that had the main villain proceed to make the heroine have a crush on him and she admits to that connection like…we have someone who despises him, have a crush on him. They’re opposites, like night and day. And now we probably won’t even have an admission between two people who shared a lot of things and are out there collecting trauma together? That woman was ready to die for him and he won’t say anything to her after?

He also said that Elendil is grieving his wife, and grief just don’t go away, but like…why didn’t they make her appear then? Why did they place another person to be his potential romantic partner? I understand the grief, but it’s actually frustrating to see him, who lost his wife years ago and thinks he lost his youngest son (also doesn’t know where the oldest is) might just commit the same mistake of not saying anything at all to the woman he does feel things for. After the new interviews I actually believe that Earien might be the one who will have to say to Miriel that Elendil loves her.

[mikuni14]

Sugar Dog Life Ep 2-3 There's practically nothing going on in this series in terms of romance, I don't even feel any chemistry or anything between the MLs, and yet I really enjoy watching it - mainly because of Isumi 💖 What a cute and charming character, the actor is just just perfect. He's not only charming in appearance, with his big eyes and sweet face, but he's also a great character, so ineresting and lively. I love his inner voice, he's like the best seiyuu who can perfectly convey all emotions with his voice, and who is also naturally comical. I love all the sounds he makes, his "tch" 😒 "uuaahh" 😧 and stuff. Tanaka Koki as Isumi is 10/10. The funny thing is, I ship him more with his schoolmate who he's constantly fighting with lol. I genuinely like this show, I don't even care about the romance tbh, probably because it's non-existent anyway and I didn't have time to get invested, like in I hear the sunspot 😄

Cosmetic Playlover - Ep 4-6 I also like this series, the MLs have intense, interesting lives, their careers, I also like how their romantic and work lives are shown with all the good and bad things. I like how the pride, ethic and commitment to work and support in a good team are shown but also the toxicity of relationships between envious coworkers, bullying, overworking, building their careers, ect. I really like how they talk to each other a lot, how they screw up but apologize and try to explain themselves. I like how they discuss themselves, their feelings, their relationship. I like that uke is not shown as a helpless doll to be possessed and controlled by a "perfect" seme who seems to know everything. I like how they are different from each other and how this relationship works for them despite these differences, how they try to understand and complement each other. I like watching their efforts to make their relationship happen and work. I REALLY liked that a character writes a sincere, emotional text to their beloved and SENDS IT. In 99% of these types of scenes, someone writes a heartfelt text about their feelings and then deletes it, creating another drama...

I'm praising this series now because the trailer suggests that the next episode will suck and all their healthy communication will go to hell in the name of the most hated tropes ever, like "noble sacrifice" and "I know what's best for you without asking you about it" lol But for now - this is a really nice little series 😊

Takara's Treasure - Ep 7-8 I'm still fascinated/mortified by this relationship and how it's presented. Takara, who is perfectly aware and in tune with his feelings, his experiences, traumas, needs. He can identify and name what he feels, as well as control himself and his feelings. And Taishi, who can't do any of that. Takara, who consciously leads his own life and Taishi, who is unable to do anything, make any decision on his own without the influence of others, without asking them what he should do, even for others to tell him what he feels. Takara, who has his own life and Taishi, who has Takara's life, who built his entire being around him, went to his university, constantly checks what he likes, stalks him and stares at him to catch even the slightest changes in his face, completely losing himself in what Takara wants, likes, feels, putting him on a pedestal where everything Takara does and likes is perfect. Even their date, which was shown as Takara wanting to know what Taishin likes, actually IS about Takara. Taishin is constantly making sure that Takara is having fun, that the food is to his liking. It is significant, for example, that Taishin never says "I'm hungry/ I'm thirsty, let's go eat something, what do you think?" he just has to make sure that Takara wants it first. There is no "I" in Taishin's life, it's only senpai. And their scene from the previous episode, when Taishin is scared of Takara's reaction (!!) and literally shrinks and tries to appaer smaller when Takara tells him to come closer and when he sits there crying and small and it all ends with a kiss - ngl, as an adult woman, the only thing I felt for Taishin at that moment was the need to comfort him that no, honey, no one is mad at you and maybe call his mom. I'll be honest, I have no idea how someone could think at that moment: yes, I want to kiss this terrified, lost, emotionally undeveloped person. Maybe because of my age, maybe because people who need to be taught about life and their own feelings remind me too much of children for my own comfort, but I will never understand this type of relationship portrayed as something romantic and cute. Maybe in the manga it makes sense and has a different tone and there Taishin is not so blatantly childish, but simply innocent and an airhead. But the series Taishin IS mentally a child (and in behavior, movements and speech), especially compared to the mature, self-aware Takara. This relationship is not and will never be equal, which can be seen in literally every aspect (including the way they walk together, Takara always in front, Taishin toddling timidly behind), which will never be healthy. No matter how much Takara sincerely likes Taishin now. Because leading someone through life who should be your equal and support you exactly the same in life, but is not, is not possible in the long run. At some point Takara will also need help and support, something that can't be fixed with a smile and a crystal ball. And it may turn out that this relationship stands entirely on Takara, on his strength and his leadership.

I Hear the Sunspot - Ep 9 Wow, 3 episodes in a row when I don't have a good time, and only feel frustration and bitterness. I feel like I have to praise them for their commitment lol