#and that gives the film more to play with

[seewetter]

My first thought at hearing horror described as "a predatory force seeking out the exposed and vulnerable elements of society" made me think of a movie about a monster tormenting people who refuse to be vulnerable and at the end the "final girl" has vulnerability but must spend a highly uncomfortable eternity with the monster.

But then I realized that while that would make a good horror movie, it would just be the flip side of the coin of horror movie avoidance. The audience then simply gets "action movie"-like gratification where the victims have to open up and be vulnerable and laughs in schadenfreude when they fail at this task. It could be good horror, but it wouldn't challenge its target audience, who don't relate to the victims in the film. The audience would side with the monster, and watching the predation with a certain level of emotional detachment. "Ahaha, that frat bro couldn't show vulnerability, go get him". This could be a fun movie, but it's not a template for the appeal of horror. And people who don't want to be vulnerable in that particular way can become more entrenched in their mindset, because the film isn't just victimizing (people like) them, it mocks its victims, it addresses the audience as people superior to those victims.

If, say, a slasher movie features a bunch of frat bros who never open up to each other, this doesn't reflect real vulnerabilities of frat bros, who IRL do tell each other pretty harrowing stories and show emotional vulnerability in the right social setting -- the reason shitty men bully emotional or "weak" men in group settings is cishet patriarchal pecking order / violence. These guys do all these weak and emotional things all the time, just under the "right" pretense. So a horror film where frat bros are killed for being repressed kind of misses its mark as social criticism.

But even if the film killed frat bros or karens or other groups of privileged people who either repress something or hide a violent underbelly of their group, a challenging horror film walks a fine line.

Any horror film that simply *gives them what they deserve*, say a slasher film where frat bros die one-by-one as the monster seeks out guys who aren't, as prev put it "reduced to tears", is wish-fulfillment for an audience critical of frat bro culture. Like I'd get a kick out of it, I think such stories should be told and I'll watch at least a few of them, but I know deep down that I'm watching something that doesn't actually affect me. Don't misunderstand me: I don't think entertainment needs to be pure. I don't think it needs to teach valuable lessons. But since people above are discussing the kind of infantile mindset where someone basically doesn't like about horror the very thing that makes it horror (the helplessness) I can't but mention that to really get audiences to experience helplessness, you need *them* to actually feel helpless. So watching some Karen who totally deserves to get chopped to bits feel helpless ...only works if *you're* a Karen like that yourself -- and even then might not work if you rightfully(?) suspect this entertainment was made by other people to make fun of you or feel superior to you.

Schadenfreude (enjoying the damage others face) is absolutely a viable ingredient for entertainment: but absurdly, it's an ingredient for a feelgood movie. A morality play that preaches to the choir.

This is one reason why trans women and people with physical disfigurements have been so attentive to transmisogyny and ableism in horror. Because in both cases, the mainstream has been making feelgood movies where the monster is Other and people can feel superior to that form of otherness. They can pat themselves on the back for thinking that disfigurement makes someone monstrous or uncomfortable or undesireable or disgusting. A disfigured monster's body would not be half as ableist if it wasn't part of a sort of morality tale feelgood movie, where bad people get what they deserve and good people go rewarded. Giving the disfigured monster more sympathy effectively doesn't just muddle the ableism, but also muddles the predation and violence of the monster. Which won't really make sense to the audiences who wanted a morality play to feel better about themselves but also--- morality plays are a part of horror, but they are kind of like decaf coffee. It's horror without the helplessness of horror.

Even a film with an amoral ending, like Cabin in the Woods, is basically just defanged horror, it's an action comedy with horror tropes and weird sci-fi and fantasy elements. The amoral ending (just letting the world get destroyed) is cool and entertaining, but this is definitely a feelgood film.

If someone wants to make a film about unavoidable pain and suffering, then they can't shy away from actually inflicting that fictional pain and suffering on their fictional characters. And if that movie is meant to avoid the thing where wealthy suburbanites are victims of the murder doll or demon home invasion or whatever, if you want to show the vulnerability of homeless people for example...well then you can't shy away from portraying the futility of their attempts to get help.

Feelgood films (both the Action Horror movie and the Schadenfreude Morality Play) have their place in the world of storytelling and can say interesting things. But the impulse to always want "soft" horror is maybe partly due to how effective it can be, as a genre, to actually make people live through helplessness and unavoidable pain. I don't think the last type is more legitimate, but I do think, especially when it deals with marginalized pain or deals with privileged pain in a way that truly hits its mark, people will tend to not want to watch it.

It's not uniquely American for people to not want to get to close to this sort of pain. It seems like the product of neoliberalism: even the most victimized people in the poorest countries are told that what truly matters is their authenticity, their integrity. Labour is increasingly expendable, people can easily lose everything... and so they are being comforted with the idea that at least they *are themselves* (hence why I'm always trying to define being trans not as "who I am, who I truly am inside" and more in terms of "my freedom of association and self-definition is being taken from me, using biology as an excuse". When people want to *be themselves*, experiencing a story where they have to be vulnerable can be incredibly difficult.

I'm still not sure why rich people applauded "Parasite" -- did the film fail on some level, or did they shield themselves from the film's message -- and I can't say what the magic ingredients are to make a story impact its target audience. Parasite, though, is about poor people told from their perspective -- and rich folks are the Other. So maybe that explains its muted effect: Like that social media post about bullies at school cheering on Dumbo the elephant beating up his bullies. This is the story of Dumbo, audiences cheer Dumbo on because they like him. They aren't vulnerable to the critique of Dumbo or Parasite, because the hero isn't a bully like them. And bullies are fundamentally unsympathetic as characters. Audiences tend to want them to die.

I think a really psychologically effective horror film is one where the protagonists are people the audience relates to, who do bad things that the audience somewhat dislikes but can find understanding for and where the antagonist isn't a bringer of morality, but simply a force of destruction. Where the core defining aspect of the monster isn't how clearly it reflects some real-world problem, but how relentlessly it pursues its tastes or agenda. The monster(s) acts like a real-life problem in its horrific effects, but it isn't allegorical. Or at least not allegorical for an issue near and dear to the audience's heart. But I'm not sure how much horror can actually cause audience introspection. I don't think we can fully expect entertainment to hit the mark on that. People watch entertainment for the fun of it -- if someone wants entertainment to be transformative, they need to take notes from entertainment that appears to have a genuinely transformative effect (like "A Short Film About Killing" which supposedly ended the death penalty in Poland or "Jaws" which supposedly caused a temporary shark murder spree).

But regardless I think it makes sense to realize that horror films that make the audience feel smart for avoiding bad things and horror films that harrow the audience with inescapable horror are pandering to different desires and are, in a sense, different genres. If you know that, you have a better grasp on how to design your own stories or how to recommend stories you come in contact with.

people are so mean about horror movie victims like. sorry but if i had gone to a cabin in the woods with my friends as a teenager you couldn't have stopped us from reading aloud from the evil tome. how were they supposed to know the ancient curse was real they're like 17

[hrrtshape]

things i manifested in paris !!!!!

◞ museums basically empty !!!!! like private viewings. like they cleared the louvre just for me. felt like royalty.

◞ drinking every day. obviously. no notes.

◞ dior café. 16 euros.... didn’t even flinch. didn’t even blink. felt nothing. like, yeah, charge me more. i dare you.

◞ NO LINES. literally just walking in everywhere like i was the mayor of paris or something.

◞ food ????? unreal. every bite was a religious experience. i was actually gasping.

◞ thought i lost my earring and was already mourning it…. got home….. it was under my sweater ?????? felt like i was in a time loop. literally how is that possible?/!?!?!??! it was expensive and swarovski and i swore it was lost in the streets of paris..but no. just kept manifesting that it just fell into my bag..but no..it somehow dropped from my all-around wrapped scarf under my (buttoned to the top) trench-coat.

◞ got new jewellery !!!!! like, just out of nowhere !!!!! the swarovski ariana grande set. meant to be. cosmic alignment.

◞ best margarita of my life. 7 euros. plus two free shots. bartender took one look at me and went, "this girl deserves it." and you know what ? he was right.

◞ I SHIFTED. TWICE. ON THIS TRIP. !!!!!!!! i was out here casually jumping realities between croissants. felt like the main character in an experimental film.

◞ weather ????? literally perfect every single day. like the clouds and the sun were working together just for me. rained during comfortable moments...ugh.

◞ every outfit ate. no misses. people were staring. admiring. whispering. like i was a mysterious european socialite.

◞ found the cuuuuuutest, most burberry-escue burgundy trenchcoat. no notes

◞ my hair ???? perfect. not a single bad hair day. not a single moment of struggle. just effortless beauty.

◞ got the best seat in every restaurant, every café, every bar. prime locations only. always by a window. always vibey.

◞ shopping ???? insane. walked into stores and just found the most perfect things. like they were waiting for me.

◞ make-up was on point. no brush strokes, no harsh lines, no nothing.

◞ my phone battery lasted forever. defied all logic. like my phone just decided it was on my side.

◞ got into every place i wanted to. no rejections. no complications. doors opened. things worked.

◞ my skin ????? glowing. no breakouts. no stress. just clear, angelic radiance.

◞ found money randomly. like, oh, cool, the universe is just giving me spending money now.

◞ had a night where everything felt right. the stars aligned. the city was glowing. no explanation. just pure, unadulterated magic.

◞ packed way too much but somehow my suitcase just made the weight limit. down to the gram.

◞ walked 20k steps a day but my feet ???? did not fall off. sore, but still functioning. still cute.

◞ forgot to check the weather but it just…..worked out ??? no rain when i needed sun, no heatwave when i needed a breeze.

◞ convinced myself i was getting sick at least twice, then woke up the next day perfectly fine. mind over matter.

literally a divine trip. heaven was playing favourites and i was in the list.

[haikyu-mp4]

Everything will be fine – Akaashi x reader wc 629 – f!reader, brother!Bokuto

Your older brother Bokuto was not disappointed – nor particularly surprised – when you and Akaashi ended up dating in your last year at high school. He was away for university by then and missed the two of you terribly, but at least your togetherness meant he could meet you both at the same time whenever he visited home! That’s double the time spent with both of you!

And when you and Akaashi graduated, you both got into universities in Tokyo, meaning Bokuto’s happiness only increased. Nothing could ever separate you now-

“Me and Keiji both got job offers here in Tokyo!”

For a second, he grinned widely at the great news, his hair pointed sharply to the sky. Then, slowly, he realised he had just accepted an invitation to play for the Black Jackals, who were stationed in Osaka. His hair melted into sadness, along with his whole demeanour.

You felt Akaashi tense beside you, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter while you pursed your lips, having handled this for much longer than your boyfriend.

“But I’ll be working in Osaka,” Bokuto reminded you, his sadness dripping from every syllable.

“It’s not even three hours with the Shinkansen, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi informed him. Naturally, he had made some calculations before giving this news.

Bokuto nodded and gave you a sorrowful smile. The rest of his expression was hardly working with him to convince you that he was okay, but he tried his best. “I just thought you two would both be freelancers and go wherever I go.”

You couldn’t help the small snort of laughter that slipped past your nose, making you lift a hand to try and conceal it. Akaashi smiled and stepped forward when he saw that Bokuto was about to tell you off. “Bokuto-san. I promise to take care of your sister.”

“I know that, Akaashi. But who’s going to take care of me? Who’s going to hold up the posters with my name at every game?”

Akaashi hesitated, looking a bit like a question mark when he answered. “Your other fans?”

Bokuto huffed and pouted. “They don’t count.”

“If I filmed that and posted it, you’d get cancelled so fast,” you mumbled from the side, already fed up with your brother’s nonsense (affectionately).

“You’re not taking my emotions seriously!” Bokuto accused you, which sounded exactly like it did when you were kids.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Because everything will be fine!”

“It will?” Bokuto’s movements stuttered as he blinked at you owlishly, a nostalgic sense of positivity washing over him.

“Of course it will!” you repeated, voice a little lighter. A little more relaxed, like the words were filling the air and hugging all three of you. “We always work things out.”

Akaashi felt his shoulders lower as he admired you. You were everything he needed to fight his anxiety, and you proved time and time again that you were it for him.

It also seemed to have the same effect on Bokuto, who knew from all the years of sitting on the back of your bike while you gave your all trying to get him home after he scraped his knee, that you would do everything in your power to ensure it would, in fact, be okay.

“I already got us all rail passes for the whole year,” you said happily, shrugging. “Can you start being happy about our awesome jobs now?”

Bokuto used his strong arms to pull you and your boyfriend into a crushing hug, making you both groan despite the warmth in your hearts. “Oh my gosh, congratulations! What are your jobs?”

You nodded your head to gesture for Akaashi to start. “I’ll be an editor for Tenma Udai...”

“The mangaka?! Why didn’t you say that?!”

“…My bad, Bokuto-san.”

masterlist

requested by @nifflermini for my event, anything for you <3

[zznblr]

I’ve got a request, telling Yeonjun how handsome he is.

His lips, his smile, his face, his body, sigh……

[9:35pm] 𐙚 c.yj

ʚ♡⃛ɞ request | there's nothing you love more than making out with yeonjun ୨୧ yeonjun x fem!reader • suggestive • established relationship • 839 words reblogs n comments appreciated :)

in your eyes, yeonjun is always prettier when you haven’t seen him in a while. and yes, some might argue that a week isn’t that long but it truly does feel like forever to you when it comes to your boyfriend.

you’re standing giddily outside his front door, waiting, your hands stuffed in your coat pockets to stop yourself from pressing on his doorbell like a freak.

when he finally opens the door, you pounce on him, nearly knocking him over. you smother his face with kisses, eliciting a chuckle from him. “i missed you too,” he kisses you slowly and softly.

yeonjun pulls you inside, protecting you from the cold january air. he takes off your coat and your hat, hanging them on the coat rack by the door. he guides you towards the living room, where he as a whole spread of your favorite snacks laid out for your movie night. he turns off the overhead light while you make your way to the couch. when yeonjun returns to you, you scooch closer to him, to the point where you are practically sitting on him with how close your bodies are. if it was even possible, he pulls you closer to him and drapes a blanket over your bodies before pressing play on the movie.

you are barely paying attention to the film. you’ve seen it a million and ten times; you could quote every line in it. and besides, you had something far more interesting to look at. your eyes are glued onto yeonjun’s face. you eye him intently, taking in every part of him – the movie flaring on the lens of his thin frame glasses; the way his nose crinkles and his brows furrow every time there is something slightly repulsive on the screen; his pink lips falling back into their resting pout afterwards.

“are you going to keep staring at me, or are you actually going to watch the movie?” yeonjun pulls you out of your trance, not even taking his eyes off the screen.

“i’ve seen it before.” you reply, offhandedly.

he finally turns to face you. “but, you picked this movie.” he sighs, reaching over for the remote control on the coffee table. he pauses the film. “we can watch something else if you—” he stops mid sentence as you climb onto his lap, straddling him. “w-what are you doing?”

“you’re so pretty, you know?” you reach up to cup his face with both your hands. your thumb brushes over the plump skin of his cheeks. “so so pretty,” you continue; it’s almost like you are in a daze.

“thank you,” yeonjun chuckles. he wraps his arms around your waist as you settle in place.

you pull his face closer to yours, so that your foreheads meet. yeonjun cautiously closes the tiny gap between the two of you as he draws in for a kiss. his fingertips softly brush against your back. you run your tongue along his bottom lip and you can taste the butter from the popcorn that he was eating earlier. yeonjun’s lips part and you slip your tongue into his mouth.

your better senses are being slowly but surely defeated as you succumb to the sweetness of the kiss. yeonjun pulls back for just a short moment to catch his breath, and you can’t help but let out a whine of displeasure. you quickly close the distance between the two of you that he had so cruelly created.

your lips meet his once more while you pull yourself tighter against him. yeonjun’s hands trail down your back, slipping underneath your t-shirt. he tightens his grip on you, his nails sinking into your skin.

if you could, your lips would be attached to yeonjun’s for the rest of your life. you find it to be some sort of cosmic injustice that you can’t live off of him because by the way you are devouring his face, he seems like the only adequate source of sustenance for you. and even sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough. no matter how much he gives you, you always want more – more love, more closeness, more yeonjun. 

you are completely and absolutely obsessed with the way he kisses you. it’s filled with passion and lust and affection and gentleness and love.

love.

so much love. the same way you are captivated by yeonjun and his taste and his touch and his presence, he too is enamored by you and you can tell by the way he holds you closer to him and caresses you softly. you can tell by the way he is the person that could ever make you feel like your body is on fire. he knows every part of your body like he was the one who designed it. he knows just what to do and where to touch to make you lose your mind.

at last, you pull away from the kiss, your lips still touching. “god, i love you.” your breath ghosts against yeonjun’s lips.

“i love you too.”

[detectivedarling]

As with all things in life, one fact builds on the other, and a lot stands behind the current situation. First, Danny counts in his head, ghost fights are hard to capture on video. Second, the few videos taken of Phantom not in a fight are carefully kept secret. Third, sending those videos over any form of internet seems more dangerous than it's worth.

It's why Bruce, two years after Danny told him about his previous vigilante life, still has only seen Phantom in the mostly low quality videos he could scrounge up from the internet. Which was, admittedly, a lot. Bruce is pretty good when it comes to that. Danny doesn't think Tucker would have been able to find everything Bruce has, and Danny knows for sure he himself wouldn't have found half. If even a third. Not that he was ever much interested in finding videos of himself, seeing his ass get kicked from a different perspective never sounded particularly fun.

But here he sits, next to Bruce, with a high priority, carefully cushioned post package. A simple USB and film card sits inside the many layers of bubble wrap.

Tucker jumped on new technology the second he was able, curious for all things digital, while Sam more often stuck to the old and 'better' looking devices. The film card is hers, from the years after she got a ridiculously expensive and old fashioned camera for her birthday and used it with dedication. It was nearly all aesthetic shots and poetic, environmental moments, but she had some special film cards for filming her life, her friends. She had an even more special card for filming when Phantom was involved.

She rarely did. The film needed to be hidden carefully, so no one sniffing through her stuff could find any hints to Danny's identity. Tucker's occasional digital photo or video were always copied to an equally hidden USB and scrubbed from whatever he used to film on. Danny, for all that his family had never once snooped in his stuff, didn't dare save anything.

Bruce starts with the film card because Danny asks him to. He sets up something compatible, and the film starts with a scratch and a laugh, Danny's breath stolen away as he looks at Sam's bedroom, from before she hung up the goth-ified star string lights Danny and Tucker had gifted her on her thirteenth birthday. Her TV is colorful, the image of a scoreboard for Mario Kart with flashing images of racers. Danny leans in to read. Sam is in first, he's in seventh, and Tucker just barely managed to claim eleven.

Which is why she recorded the video. Tucker covers the scoreboard with his body, just a little too late. I was distracted, okay?! His voice carries through the speakers as he yells at her, eyes pointed behind the camera. Sam as laughing, that fun middle ground of mocking and friendly.

"I'm injured," Danny mumbles, barely speaking over Tuckers ranting. He can't bear to cover the sound up. "Just- just a warning."

Bruce rubs a thumb over Danny's hand. He doesn't look away.

Sam almost giggles. Distracted, uh-huh, she teases and the camera turns to look at Danny beside her. At Phantom beside her.

It's a funny first video for Bruce to watch. Of all the (admittedly not very many) videos Danny's friends have taken of him as Phantom, the first Bruce sees is from the same day as the video Bruce was watching when Danny told him about being Phantom. It's the aftermath of a ghost fight.

Phantom is bleeding. He's sitting on a mess of towels, under and behind him to prevent any ectoplasm from getting on Sam's chair. His right eye is shut, the mess of blood splattered over his face during the fight cleaned away, but a thin trail of it still drops from under it. His left arm is sluggishly dripping blood and sucking it back up. It's cut off at the mid point of his forearm, grown from his elbow. It would take a few more hours before the hand comes back fully formed. His eye shouldn't take much more than one, at the time of the video.

His shoulders are shaking. Phantom is bleeding, injured and dismembered, but his shoulders are shaking from the laugh he can barely hold in.

Our seventh placer, everybody, Sam speaks to an audience that was never meant to include any more than the three of them. Danny can't imagine Bruce not watching alongside him. Not distracted like our dear Tuck.

Sometimes Danny would come out of a rough ghost fight wishing for nothing more than to grieve in peace. To lay and be in pain, to be alone or comforted quietly by his friends. Sometimes Danny wanted the room to be as somber as he felt. Other times he needed to be alive, even as he couldn't transform back before he finished healing, he needed to be present and distracted, he needed to be pulled away from the pain of being pulled apart. This was one of those times.

Phantom falls back against the cushion, laughing. It hiccups with the blood in his lungs, but it's happy and free.

Tucker groans. I wanna play Doomed

The camera turns down as Sam prepares to stop her filming. Build Danny a setup for playing one handed instead of whining next time. Until then, it's Mario Kart.

The video ends.

im dedicating this to @detectivedarling. i felt inspired after seeing their little ficlet yesterday sadhjfl 🫶

-

Danny's grip on his cane tightens.

"What—"

His voice cracks. He stops, clears it, then tries again in spite of the nausea twisting in his gut. "What are — you, uh, watching, Bruce?" He sounds horribly far away.

Bruce doesn't look at him, his attention laser-focused on the screen. Which is— fine. It's usually not a problem, Bruce gets like that when he hyper-focuses on a case, and unless it's urgent — or he's been at it for hours — Danny sees no need to pull him away from it. He likes the quiet camaraderie they have, it's companionable and unique to the two of them.

He wishes he was right now though. Looking at him, that is.

That way he wasn't watching what was clearly one of Danny's ghost fights. One of the nastier ones, if the collateral damage and rubble on the street is of any indication.

Danny tries to remember which one that is. He shuffles a little closer to the desk, ignoring the rock in his stomach or the ugly weightlessness in his arms. It's not the blood blossoms, that much he knows. He just recently had an injection so it shouldn't be bothering him this soon—

So it's just nerves. Perfect.

Most footage of his fights are— messy, at best. Unusable at worst. Amity Park was obsessed with appearing 'normal' when they first started happening, and typical news stations censor the worst of the fights anyways for publishing, since they can get pretty gory at times. And ghosts move too fast to be caught on regular standard cameras, not including distance and light and—

That is to say— finding usable ghost fight videos is hard.

Danny wonders how Bruce got his hands on this one, and then stops wondering.

The audio is muted, which is - good. Good, because the fight is ugly and chaotic and clearly this was taken on someone's phone. Fuck, he can't remember if he ever saw that before — clearly not. They're hiding behind an overturned car, and Danny grits his teeth so he doesn't tell that idiot to run.

The camera turns up, and focuses on two figures in the air. It takes a few seconds, but when it does, Danny gets hit with a wave of vertigo. His grip tightens and he leans heavily on his cane, he waits for the black dots to disappear.

He- uh, he remembers this fight now. Uh, sort of.

He remembers being twelve at the time, and he remembers some of the injuries he got out of it. His eyelid spasms abruptly. This ghost wasn't one of his regulars, so he doesn't remember whatever name they had, barely remembered what they looked like up until- uh. Now.

Was he always that small? Well— Phantom's never been particularly big, perks of being a dead kid, but— it's - different. Seeing it from an outsider perspective. Was he that small? Or is it just because he's wearing a jumpsuit clearly too big for him that casts the illusion of being small?

Doesn't really - matter. Now. He can't access his ghost form, and he already knows the answers to his appearance.

Phantom is clearly bleeding, viscous and violently green like the bubbles of a lava lamp, clutching onto a limp shoulder that's missing an arm from the elbow down. Half his face is drenched in similar blood, the eye on the drenched side is closed — not because he can't see through the ectoplasm.

Danny's memories of that fight slowly come in a bit clearer. Right. He took a pole to the eye in that one. That had - hurt. A lot. Getting an eye gouged out usually does. It and the missing arm took hours to grow back.

He rubs his eye with his palm for no other reason than it itches.

The other ghost isn't untouched of any injury either, but he's not in a state of dismemberment like Phantom is.

Danny drops his gaze down at Bruce, whose sitting in his chair with his hands threaded together, looking so tense that Danny half expects to meet solid steel if he were to touch his back. His face is - blank. Terribly blank, with an intensity in his eyes that Danny doesn't see often.

He looks terribly distressed.

He opens his mouth, and finds that nothing comes out. His throat is thick with an ugly, tar-like feeling that makes his eyes sting. Kinda reminds him of when someone wraps their hands around your throat and presses. He closes his mouth, then tries again.

"B—" hhhhhh, "Buzz."

Finally Bruce looks at him, one hand slaps the space button on the keyboard, and the video pauses. His expression doesn't shift, but there's a weight in the lines of his face that reminds Danny of a set of weights sagging.

He looks quite like he's grieving something.

Bruce opens his mouth, his voice comes out terribly soft and heartbroken: "He looks like you."

Which is— a terrifying sentence in and of itself. One that makes Danny's legs shake and ignite his ragged, poison-chewed nerves alight with the need to run. An instinctive urge to deny, deny, deny.

How could he? He could say, that's a ghost, Bruce. I'm not a ghost. He could crack a joke, and ask, 'do I look dead to you?' or say something about how he knows that his parents studied ghosts, but that didn't make him one.

He could say that, and he could say it knowing full well that Bruce would see right through it. He'd probably let Danny too.

Danny closes his eyes. They sting, you see? So does his nose, right in the back like someone popped him in the face. And his throat is thick and gross and like someone stuck a spider, the big fat tarantula kind, right down into his esophagus.

He breathes in — through his mouth, because his nose stings and so it'd be best not to irritate it further with air — and it's terribly shaky and uneven. But it clears a pathway to his lungs big enough for him to say — whisper, really:

"You know, I think you're the first person to notice that."

[kaisentine]

yippity yappity abt actress!reader and sae

“you sucked at that.” you wince at how bad this pro-soccer player plays his part. to be fair—it was quite obvious he hated this, hated filming, hated his team, hated you . . . what kind of connections did this man have to be in a movie such as this one? “yeah? well no fucking shit, i’m not an actor.” he snarls.

how has this man not been cancelled yet? he’s probably the most insufferable male you’ve met—worked with! “. . . i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. but for the love of whatever, don’t let go so early.” you murmur, referring to the last take when he let you fall on your back because he let go.

he rolls his eyes before the director tells the both of you to get ready.

“we can’t do this anymore,” crystalline tears start building up in your lash-line just begging to flood down your cheeks. he squeezes your hands in his and holds them up to his chest, the look of sympathy just barely passing sadness is evident on his face as he stares at you. “why not?” it’s asked as a whisper one could mistake for their own hallucinations playing with their head. “ . . . no—i can’t do this anymore.” the built up water starts flowing down your cheeks, a quick warmth turns to a cool sensation against your skin.

his sympathetic look contorts into disappointment at your rewording. “i can do this. fuck . . . just trust me.” you want to believe him, you want to be convinced by his sick reassurance but you’ve been fooled once before, you can’t do this a second time. “i don’t know if i can trust you again. let me go, please.” you plead while trying to thrash his clasp on your hands away. “yes you can.” he further insists with not budging one bit, your mouth feels dry from the words you cannot speak but wet with the guilt that drowns through your body.

“how?” you’ve given up on trying to push him away because now you need the answer. the form of the answer you were looking for was not that of verbal speech but of an action. pushing his arms back so both his and your hands are now pinned to your chest, a slow lean towards you was all it took for him to lay his lips on yours.

“CUT” the director yells through his over the top mega-phone and sae immediately lets go of your hands and rebounds back to his previous stance—you want to flush your mouth out with whatever you can get your hands on just anything. “good work!” he smiles, marking the end of the filming process. you smile along with him but the red-head ( bru what’s his hair color ) remains indifferent.

“it wasn’t that hard, was it?” you ask with arms crossed while everyone else is busy with something. “i just want to get out of here.” he copies your movements but puts his hand on his hip instead. you swallow the urge to crash out on him to the point there���s probably a lump in your throat. “i wasn’t the one who brought you here, calm down—the least you could do after probably making my ass bruise.” you feel your eye twitch just by looking at him,

“wrong, you were.”

what is he talking about . . . is he now telling you that you’re the reason for his misery? “huh? what do you mean?” you tilt your head in confusion. “my team wanted me here because you were going to be here too.” he blatantly explains like you knew this already—you didn’t. your head moves back in surprise.

“why would they do that?” you give him a look that just screams ‘wtf are you on about?’. “famous actor and famous soccer player, great publicity.” he sighs before shaking his head in annoyance.

oh, you get it now. but his team better be right because if this movie doesn’t blow up, you’re going to pay someone to remove your mouth.

their predictions were right, the movie was long awaited and did blow up—more than you thought. theorists, news sites and fans were having a field day, however. making up crazy articles, fan edits, and speculations that you and itoshi sae were dating.

have they never seen a kiss in a movie? have they never heard of the concept of acting? God, you still want to remove your mouth—anything to stop you subconsciously bringing your fingers up to your lips while thinking of the dumb kiss he gave you. it’s an actual nightmare to be thinking of a man who didn’t really want to kiss you.

his team was right but was it worth it? was it worth it to have you shifting uncomfortably in your seat while waiting for the interviewer with sae beside you? was it worth the awkward bickering off camera? “i slept through the premiere.” he says lazily as if you weren’t beside him during the showing. “how are we going to do this interview, then?” you sigh, bringing a hand to your face to pinch your nose bridge.

“adlib,” he says, “i think i’ll be okay..” he finishes. “you better because i’m not carrying this interview.” you retort—knowing damn well you might be forced to because you’ve watched his interviews after games and they . . . suck.

there’s a sound from in front of you, it’s the interviewer getting set up in her chair. she clears her throat, “we’ll be starting soon.” she smiles, smoothening the wrinkles on her white pants. it’s game time when there’s professional cameras almost being shoved in your face.

the conversations and questions were quite tame . . .

“i’ve never seen you act before, itoshi. how were you so good the first time?” you feel your eye twitch.

“i don’t know, i just did what they told me to do.” he’s being way too honest. then again, he was never one to put on a filter, even in front of the cameras. you swear you see her eye twitch as well before she goes back to her light smile while turning to you.

“your performance was as great as ever! do you have anything to say about the filming?”

“ah, i’m very flattered! thank you! filming a movie with such intense emotions was quite the test for my heart.” you replicate the smile on her face. if only reputation didn’t exist—you would’ve said you had the urge to punch your co-worker in the face.

until they weren’t.

“now for the big question that’s been on everyone’s minds the moment the movie released.”

don’t you fucking say it.

“are you,” she points at you, “and him” she points at the man beside you, “dating?”

she said it. you jump in your seat at the mention of you and him dating?! “we aren’t!” you’re quick to shake your head with a laugh as a cover-up, she lets out a prolonged hum—suggesting something—in return. “do you believe that?” sae asks and you dart your eyes to him, what is he doing? is he trying to stir up more controversies? he’s got to be crazy. you silently tell him to shut up but he isn’t taking the hint to zip his lips.

the interviewer smirks. “i mean, most of us do . . . the kiss at the end was way too real.” that woman really needs that paycheck, huh? okay . . . you get it, she’ll get praised by her manager or whatever for grabbing views for this but what would sae get in return for doing this?

“that means we’re just really good actors, right?” you laugh nervously, still side-eyeing sae ‘please do something,’. “i don’t think a beginner actor would be that convincing.” he shrugs—he’s referring to himself. when you meant for him to do something, you didn’t mean for him to mix things up even more! the interviewer’s smirk falls through her jaw as it drops, this is probably the juiciest thing she’ll get out of her career. “are you saying that the kiss just might be a—”

“NO—”

“sure.”

you both say at the same time—sae’s manager is basically lunging at the cameramen to stop the recording.

maybe you’ve been blind up until this moment but now it all makes sense. the lingering thoughts of his lips on yours were totally planned by him—but what he did to make it work was still a mystery.

but the prize he’d get in return was not a paycheck but it would be you.

man, you knew he sucked that bad at acting but he sucks even more at bagging someone.

sticky note. this idea showed up in my drafts on the 31st of january but i kept changing it stop

[hoonieyun]

date with bachelor number one

welcome to, "is he mr. right?", the dating game! where a lucky girl who is looking for love has the opportunity to go on a date with four handsome and eager bachelor's who are also looking for love.

this is an interactive dating show au where the readers can vote on "yn's" decisions, ultimately leading to who she will be with at the end... but more on that later!

heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon

warnings: not much but please lmk if i need to add somthing, 18+ kind of proofread lol

wc: 2506

episode three: date with bachelor number one

the events of episode two lingered in your mind as you got yourself ready to film for episode three, the stylists specifically gave you only one outfit to which they explained that your outfit was meant to match your date’s outfit. 

it was cute so you didn’t necessarily care about only being given one outfit compared to the usually three or four. 

today you’d be going on a date with the bachelor that the fans voted for and although you weren’t nervous to meet the first bachelor, you were more nervous about the date. the men are tasked to come up with their own plans for the date and with some insider intel from the stylets, they told you that producers give the guys some options for date ideas but the date is ultimately up to the bachelor. 

in the past, all of the dates have been somewhat normal or casual, so you were holding onto the idea that your date wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary and would hope that it goes smoothly. 

“ready, yn?” your hairstylist says after spraying your air one last time with hairspray. you nod in response and just like clockwork; the PA is knocking on your door and letting you know filming would start in just a moment. 

PA tells you that you would do the usual introductions of the episode and the beginning interview with the love guru and whatnot. talking about the previous episode that you’ve grown accustomed to. the PA then goes on to tell you that you would be transported to the date location before meeting the bachelor which surprised you. 

in the past, the two would usually meet on set and they’d travel together to the date location but with this season, the producers wanted to switch things up which meant they allowed for the bachelor’s to choose the location and meet the dove there. if you weren’t nervous before, you were definitely nervous now. 

the introduction to the episode goes by fairly quickly and soon enough you’re in a car with a blindfold. a part of you would naturally have started to freak out being in a moving vehicle while blindfolded, it partially felt like you were being kidnapped; and you could have but you knew that wasn’t the case as the PA tells you that you’ve arrived and carefully guided you out of the car and towards the date. 

you were trying your best to stay balanced in the platform shoes you were wearing and when the PA leaves you to stand by yourself, you’re prompted to just stand there as they setup for filming to start again. 

the director announces a countdown before filming and tells you that after the countdown, count to five in your head before taking off the blindfold. and you do just that; but almost falter to remove it as you hear music start to play in the room. 

the sounds of a guitar strumming plays throughout the room and the pleasant music soothes your worries as a deep and smooth voice begins to sing alongside the melodic sounds of the guitar. when you remove your blindfold, you’re met with a cute boy sitting on a stool, playing the guitar and singing the song that was so beautiful it almost made you forget that you were filming a tv show. 

you were so entranced by his singing that you found yourself walking over closer to him without even noticing. he had this type of allure to him that was pulling you in, a natural gravitational pull that made you want to lean in and take in the beauty of his voice. you were fondly looking at him as he sang this song, one that you haven’t heard before so you mind wondered if it was something he had written; which only made your heart grow fonder for the boy in front of you. 

there was an aura in the restaurant that felt magical, like the atmosphere in the room didn’t need any movie or tv show magic to make glorious and tender moments between the two of you to be expressed through tv screens at home. 

when he finishes his song, your cheeks have began to slightly burn from smiling so much and you were happy to see that he had a smile on his face just as big as yours. you imagine that he’s very happy to see how well received the song was by you. he smoothly slides the guitar strap off of himself and hooks it onto the stand behind him, walking over to you with a sense of confidence that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter like no other. 

he was wearing a khaki jacket that was slightly zipped up over a white button up and a black tie; paired with sleek black slacks and a shiny black leather shoes. he was dressed pretty formal which kind of made your somewhat outfit look way more casual in comparison but you didn’t mind as it highlighted the matching aspect of your outfits with the brown and warm toned palette. 

he extends his arm towards you and he takes your hand in his, bring your hand up to his lips with a gentle kiss before introducing himself. 

“hello beautiful, i’m bachelor number one but you can call me: jay” he says and his speaking voice was just as smooth and lovely as the way his voice sounds when singing.

the kiss leaves you a bit stunned as you weren’t necessarily expecting and when he releases your hand, the lingering feeling of his kiss on the back of your hand tingles, like it burned with fire but not in the way of pain but more so like a feeling that you wished would never leave. 

“it’s great to meet you bachelor number one, i’m yn.” you say with a smile and he leads the two of you to a table set to the side of you two. it was a beautiful table scape of white and orange flowers, beautiful ceramic dishes and gold cutlery. 

jay goes on to say that this was his mom’s favorite restaurant and that he thought it would be the best place to take you out on a date because they had delicious food and beautiful interior; to which you agreed and couldn’t wait to taste the food. you talked about what you should order and he gives very thoughtful answers, providing information on most of the menu items while also being considerate enough of your own interests and likes to make sure that he doesn’t recommend anything you wouldn’t enjoy. 

the two of you end up ordering the same thing, steak with a side of asparagus and roast potatoes, after jay boasts about how it was the best steak he’s ever had. he does tease you momentarily for ordering it well done because he thinks it tastes the best medium well but it was all done in a loving manner when he teases you. “don’t worry, when i cook for you in the future i’ll be sure to cook your steak well done.” he says nonchalantly that you almost miss out on the fact that he’s insinuating there would be a future between the two of you. 

“you’ll cook for me?” you tease and he nods with a smirk. “of course, i’m a great cook.” jay adds and he then explains that his original plan for the date was cooking for you but decided against it because all of his focus would go towards cooking instead of paying all his attention to you. 

his words touched you dearly as you think about how considerate jay has been, he’s seem to have put so much thought into the date. “so, that song you sang, did you write it?” you ask and once again he’s nodding and smiling at you. that smile that just made you feel so giddy on the inside. 

“yeah, i thought about what way i can surprise you and i feel like men don’t serenade their women anymore so i thought i’d write you a song, did you like it?” he asks and it was your turn to nod and smile. “i mean, i don’t know if you saw my face but i was beaming the whole time. it’s safe to say that i loved it– i’ve never had a guy sing to me before let alone write me a song.” you explained and jay has a triumphant smile on his face. his goal was to not only impress you but leave a lasting impression that you would take with you throughout the rest of the show. 

he wasn’t going to lie but he was a bit nervous singing because despite having played the guitar for several years and singing, he’s never done it for a tv show. he also knew that he came off a bit mysterious during the first two episodes so he was surprised to see that the fans had voted for him to be the first date, thinking about how he must’ve left a great impression on the fans if they wanted to see more of this mysterious persona that he didn’t necessarily mean to have for the show. 

you talk about your interests while waiting for the food and you learn that jay loves guitars which you could’ve guessed from his very beautiful and impressive song, he was originally from seattle, washington which you thought was very cool because you had some family over there, and that he also liked collecting perfume and cologne. his interests weren’t anything extraordinary but the way he speaks with so much vigor and elation about his interests only made you want to listen and learn more about him. 

“so, tell me about you, yn? what does a pretty girl like you like to do?” and the quick insert of the compliment makes you blush. you tell him about your love for flowers, music, and how much you loved to read. “it’s a bit boring but i love it.” you say with a shrug and he shakes his head, “no, not boring at all. i think it makes you more beautiful knowing you have love for nature and the wonders the world has to offer when it comes to the knowledge gained from books and the joy spread through music. 

i guess i got lucky with writing you that song, huh?” 

and your cheeks burn a brighter shade of pink as those words leave his lips. he just had a way with words and you knew that prior with the way he answered your questions from the last episode but it was nice to put a face to those words.  

the rest of the date went smoothly, the food was delicious and the two of you got to learn about one another even more. he even encouraged you to try some of his medium well steak and offered you a small piece that he cut off, giving you some kind words to help you get through it. it may have seemed silly but the way he was telling you that everything would be okay no matter how you felt about the steak made you feel good on the inside. 

jay just had such a way with words that made you feel okay even when it was coming from someone you’ve just met. the medium well steak wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, it was actually pleasantly surprising and it made you feel comforted knowing that jay was willing to support you through new experiences and challenges even if it was just trying a food you don’t necessarily enjoy but without forcing you to break a boundary you weren’t comfortable breaking. 

you and jay are then pulled aside towards the end of the date to film your ending interviews about the date where a PA would ask you some questions about the date. 

“what was your favorite part of the date?”

yn: probably the song, i don’t think i’ll ever forget it.  jay: meeting her, she’s something special. 

“would you date the other?” 

yn: yes, definitely.  jay: without a doubt. 

“do you think he’ll be mr. right?” 

yn: i think it’s too early to tell but i think he definitely gave a strong start so the rest of the guys definitely have some big shoes to fill. 

“do you think you’ll be mr. right?”

jay: i know i’m mr. right and i hope she’s able to see that. i really enjoyed today and it makes me happy to see how much she enjoyed herself. 

the two of you are then told to film your goodbyes when you leave your respective interviews. jay asks if he can give you a hug before parting and you answer by opening your arms to welcome his embrace. his arms are strong around your waist but gentle all at the same time. you could tell that his arms were toned under his coat and a sense of comfort washes through you as you feel his hug. his arms wrap around your waist while yours go over his shoulders and around his neck. 

he even goes as far to rub your back, a small gesture that brings you more comfort. “it was very nice meeting you, yn. i hope today exceeds your expectations and i can’t wait for the day we can see each other again.” jay says, pulling away and placing a goodbye kiss onto the back of your hand like he did at the beginning. 

the burning sensation of his kiss returns to your skin and once again you’re wishing that the feeling never fades away. 

“i was very impressed with you and this date today, jay. thank you so much for the amazing date and i’m expecting to hear that song on spotify after this so i can listen to it everyday.” you joke and the two of you laugh at your candid comment. 

“you know what, i’ll put it on a flash drive just for you so you’re the only one that can listen to it.” he adds and it only makes you two laugh further as the episode comes to an end, transitioning back to the tv show set with the love guru on stage. 

“that was so cute! i definitely need a man who would write and sing me a song… tune in next episode where our little dove will go on a date with…” she says and the music begins to do a drum roll to add dramatic effect before she announces the next bachelor. 

“bachelor number four!” she exclaims and the crowd cheers at her announcement. 

needless to say, the next date better be something you’ve never experienced before to be able to top the date that jay planned because right now you were ready to end the show and choose him as your mr. right.

prev ep 𐐪♡𐑂 next ep

hoonieyun notes: eeeek!! our little dove has gone on her first date and bachelor number one is revealed to be jay!! tell me in the comments if you guessed right and who you think bachelor number four is! i'm going to choose the order of dates based on who got the most to least votes in the poll from episode two! thank you for reading <3

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

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[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Almost Every Popular View of “Nosferatu” (2024) is Wrong

And the film itself says so.

When I say almost everyone is completely misunderstanding “Nosferatu” (2024) is not an understatement. And this film has barely left the theaters and I’m already manifesting the “renaissance “Jennifer’s Body” style era” when everyone will be apologizing to Robert Eggers for butchering the entire meaning behind his passion project. Will it take ten years, too?

You need to understand that Robert Eggers has no interest in doing “modern takes” on his work in the sense everything that happening in the story (dialogue; behavior; way of thinking) is from the time period POV: "I never think of things in a contemporary context," director Robert Eggers says […] "I try to stay in the worldview of the characters.”

Second, you need to leave your confirmation bias at the door because Robert Eggers is subverting this entire story: “My influences are all very clear, and Nosferatu is a remake, after all,” Eggers says, yet he plays with the canon, with expectations and clichés – “hopefully subverting them to do something unexpected.”

“Orlok targeted Ellen” = Incorrect

He was dead and rotting since the late 16th century, until she resurrected him and cursed him to be a strigoi (Romanian folklore) with her summoning prayer, in the prologue. This is confirmed twice by her to Von Franz and to Thomas; and twice by Orlok himself, right at the prologue, and in the first time they are meeting face to face at the Harding household, as he calls her “his affliction” (as in “disease”; “plague”).

“Child abuse” = Incorrect

Ellen was 15 years old at the prologue (confirmed by Robin Carolan). She says she was “an innocent child” because (1) she’s accusing Orlok of corrupting her innocence; (2) the concept of “teenager” or “adolescence” didn’t exist (was only created after World War II); people went from “childhood” into “adulthood” with nothing in between. And there was no "astral sex" going on between them (but more on that later).

There was no “child abuse” between Ellen and her father, either. I’ve seen this getting thrown around and I was kind of shocked. What she tells Von Franz is that her father, as she was growing older, wouldn’t allow her to play in the fields and at the forest anymore (“Father… he would find me in our fields… within the forest… as if – I was his little changeling girl. But as I became older it worsened… Father dispraised me for it…”). Because that’s not suitable for a Victorian young lady; she needed to prepare to be a wife to respectable husband (marriage and motherhood as a woman’s destiny). She also says “her touch” started to “frighten” her father, which means he wouldn’t give her physical affection anymore (which is the total opposite to whatever this interpretation is).

Ellen's father called her “his little changeling girl” as in European folklore of children kidnapped by fairies, elves or demons and a substitute child being left in their place, because she enjoyed playing and being in nature. When she was supposed to be indoors (domestic sphere).

“Orlok r*ped Ellen for years” = Incorrect

He was just there as a shadow, a haunting, a ghost (like when he appears on her curtains). Still creepy, but he never touched her, and the narrative proves that this is all he was to her.

At the prologue, Ellen is actually masturbating. Because when Orlok does touch her (when he reveals himself), she has a seizure. Which indicates he wasn’t touching nor doing anything to her before that.

While on his way to Wisburg, Orlok says to Ellen: “Soon I will be no more a shadow to you. Your spirit was never enough. Soon our flesh shall embrace and we shall be as one”; which, again, indicates he never had sex with her (“and we shall be as one” = finally; at last). He has only been a shadow (haunting) to her, until now; they have not yet been as “one” (sex).

When they meet "in the flesh" for the first time, Ellen tells Orlok (in a very sexual tone) she felt him like a serpent in her body, he says it’s not him, but her nature (her sexuality); this implies Orlok never touched her in that way. She also talks about “felt you” and she appears to have never seen his physical appearance before (while strigoi can haunt dreams, we can cut that option, too).

As their covenant is fulfilled, and before he drinks from her (and she gives him her soul), Orlok says: “as our spirits are one, so too shall be our flesh”, which indicates, again, he never had sex with her before. Which also explains why he is hyperventilating before actually having sex with her at the end; and he stands there, waiting for her consent.

Last but not least, Orlok is a strigoi from Romanian folklore (not an incubus, two completely different creature). Orlok can astral project himself as a shadow or a ghost (at the prologue he was a vision/dream); but he has to be physically present in order to do physical things. And his whole ordeal with Thomas and him coming to Wisburg prove this. He made Herr Knock drag Thomas all the way to Transylvania just to divorce him from Ellen, and then he had to travel all the way to Wisburg, himself, to complete their covenant. The entire story proves it’s impossible for Orlok to do physical things from afar.

What Ellen has been doing during her teenage years (when she believes that Orlok "took her as his lover"), was, in fact, masturbation: a huge taboo in Victorian society, and the ultimate sin, as Ellen’s father calls it when he finds her naked, and yes, masturbating.

Orlok was there was a presence, a haunting, a shadow (either watching or talking with her), as that's how Robert Eggers describes him. Either way, Ellen was fantasizing about him. She tells Thomas “you could never please me as he could” because the purpose of masturbation is orgasm (which is what she associates Orlok with; “epilepsies”) and vaginal orgasms by penetration (alone) can be difficult for most women to achieve.

When Orlok asks her “Remember how once we were? A moment. Remember?” is connected to the reincarnation theme in this story.

“The lilacs represent Ellen innocence” = Incorrect

The lilacs are the visual storytelling device to showcase Ellen and Orlok’s relationship, including the reincarnation theme.

“Orlok r*pes Ellen repeatedly” = Incorrect

We already established he can’t touch her in that way, without her almost dying (like we saw at the prologue), and we never saw anything like this again in the entire film.

Look at Orlok’s body position: he literally just got here to grab Ellen’s neck (almost suffocating her in the process). This scene establishes he can’t touch her without something like this happening.

And this is why we are shown Herr Knock Solomonari Sex Magick ritual (masturbation). This man assembles an entire ritual room just to communicate with Orlok, and he starts by masturbating, which gives the audience two crucial bits of information: (1) it’s sexual energy that summons Orlok; (2) Orlok has to be conjured (invited) for these communications to happen.

And teenage Ellen, similar to Knock, would masturbate and summon Orlok; which is why she believes he actually took her as his lover, even thought he didn’t touch her, because, if he did, it would almost kill her (which is why she says “it would kill me” and she means it literally because Orlok, being a strigoi, his very presence is life-threatening).

Which tells us, all the moaning and body spams are on Ellen herself. She knows Orlok is coming to Wisburg, and she’s summoning him to her. This her yearning for him. He haunts her because she wants him to haunt her; Orlok has to be summoned and invited in, in every way, and the film clearly establishes this. And this is why when she's having sex with Thomas she starts saying "let him see! let him see our love!"; she's also conjuring Orlok in that moment.

This is all on Ellen. That first screenshot is also her giving in entrance into the city, by sea.

“Orlok cannot love Ellen” = Partially True

He cannot love her wholly in his present state as strigoi because this curse removed his best human qualities. He did retain his most fierce and strongest desires into his strigoi self; Ellen’s soul and passion. Which indicates he did love her fiercely and deeply in their last life (or lives). He will be capable of love her once the curse is removed (which is what happens at the end).

I argue it’s “partially true” because Bill Skarsgård managed to convince Robert Eggers to let Orlok have vulnerability in his scenes with Ellen, in connection to Orlok’s backstory (Eggers doesn’t want to share with the public). So there’s still a spark there, and she’s his only humanizing trait.

“Ellen sacrifices herself to save Thomas and Wisburg” = Incorrect

Thomas wasn’t in danger because Orlok wasn’t invited into his house. The moment he left the Harding household (where Orlok was given entrance, thanks to Ellen herself), and arrived at his own house, he was safe, and Orlok couldn’t harm him, in any way, shape or form.

Orlok, like your regular vampire, has to be invited in, and this is established by the film:

At the prologue, Orlok shows up at Ellen’s window: asking for entrance;

The Nuns tell Thomas “remain here. His evil cannot enter this house of God” (it has nothing to do with God, but with Orlok not be giving entrance);

Ellen opens a window at Hardings household for Orlok to enter (she also gives him entrance into the city);

Thomas tells Ellen at the carriage scene (when she asks to go with them): “Of course not, Ellen. You must be kept safe away”. And he leaves for the night believing she’s safe because Orlok doesn’t have entrance into their house;

After finding Harding dead, Dr. Sievers says to Von Franz and Thomas: “But Orlok... Will he not have already risen? Should we not return to our homes?” (where he can’t enter and they are safe)

Ellen opens the window of her own house at the end, asking Orlok to come to her and giving him entrance.

And besides Von Franz never tells Ellen about the instructions on the Solomonari codex of secrets. But her sacrifice is still connected to them because these instructions are confirmed to have been successfully fulfilled by Von Franz himself, at the end.

“Ellen is coerced into succumbing to Orlok” = Incorrect

I’ll let Orlok himself answer this: “the compact commands she must willingly re-pledge her vow. She cannot be stolen.” And “willing” and “compelled” are two completely different things, and Orlok knows this. He gives Ellen the three nights countdown because he wants her to face the truth; her nature will never be accepted by Victorian society because “she’s not for the living, she’s not for human kind”. Which is exactly what happens because Robert Eggers describes his Ellen as a “dark, chthonic female heroine" who “makes the ultimate sacrifice and she’s able to reclaim this power through death.” chthonic” means spirits or gods who inhabit the Underworld.

Ellen doesn’t “succumb” to Orlok (this is the nonsensical marketing for this film); she’s reclaiming ownership over her power (death) and her sexuality (sex); she’s accepting herself represented by accepting him. Her “power” is medicalized by Victorian society, and her “sexuality” is owned by her husband. She’s liberating herself. But more on that later.

“Ellen tricks Orlok into staying until dawn” = Incorrect

You cannot trick the person who wrote the Şolomonari codex of secrets, whose instructions are being used in that scene.

When searching Herr Knock’s office alongside Dr. Sievers, Von Franz finds symbols he recognizes as Şolomonari (from Romanian folklore), and discovers a book, which he identifies as the Şolomonari codex of secrets. Later, he reveals to Dr. Sievers and Harding: “our Nosferatu is of an especial malignancy. He is an arch-enchanter, Solomonari, Satan's own learned disciple.” Here, Von Franz is telling the audience the codex belongs to Orlok; because it’s the second time a character has confirmed him as the Şolomonar of the narrative.

This is based on the “Dracula” novel by Bram Stoker; where Count Dracula studied at the Scholomance, a school located in the Carpathian Mountains, in Transylvania, where the Devil is said to instruct 10 or 13 students, which will become Şolomonar after their graduation (Romanian folklore). The course lasts 7 or 9 years, and their final assignment is to copy their entire knowledge of humanity into a "Şolomonar's book"; this codex doesn’t merely belongs to Orlok’s, he wrote it himself as his final assignment to become a Şolomonar.

Like in the novel, it’s Von Franz (Van Helsing book counterpart) who reveals that Dracula/Orlok that studied at the Scholomance/is a Şolomonar: "learned his secrets in the Scholomance, amongst the mountains over Lake Hermanstadt, where the devil claims the tenth scholar as his due"; which is exactly what the Old Abbess tells Thomas: "A black enchanter he was in life. Solomonari. The Devil preserved his soul that his corpse may walk again in blaspheme."

In these book are the instructions in how a Şolomonar can break free from his own Nosferatu curse (which can happen when you are dealing with a quest for immortality). Which is exactly what Orlok was after; this is his “masterplan” sort of speak. He wants Ellen to break the curse she put on him, for his spirit to be set free, and he wants to take her soul with him, forever united (“you shall be one with me, ever-eternally”).

Orlok has no Satanic symbols on his sigil and coat of arms, because he's, in fact, a Pagan enchanter, worshiper of the Dacian god Zalmoxis (Robert Eggers is following an academic thesis that links the folkloric Solomonari with Zalmoxis worship) but Paganism was demonized by Christianity and their followers labeled as "devil worshippers". And Von Franz, student of the occult or not, is a man of his time.

“Orlok didn’t get Ellen’s soul at the end” = Incorrect

Orlok is a strigoi, and as such, it’s not blood he feeds on, specifically. It’s “life force” and “living energy” (“blood is the life”); he feeds on his victims souls, and that’s what sustains him. And that’s why Thomas had to be exorcised.

When he’s feeding off Ellen’s blood, he’s actually feeding off her soul, giving life to himself, for the Solomonari ritual to be possible. Their souls are merging inside of that rotten corpse. At dawn, when it gets destroyed, Orlok and Ellen’s united souls are set free as their combined blood pours out of “Nosferatu”. And Orlok is now an “empty shell” because their joined souls have been liberated to the Afterlife, together, forever. And the last shot of the film really drives home this; as they lie embraced in death, both finally at peace, their souls united, as it was fated to be.

“Orlok is the villain of the film” = Incorrect

The villains of this story are the Victorian characters and Victorian society. Everyone keeps romanticizing.

Robert Eggers calls Ellen a “victim of 19th century society” several times on interviews, and how she’s completely misunderstood and unseen by everyone around her (except by Von Franz and Orlok):

“People talk a lot about Lily-Rose Depp’s character’s sexual desire, which is a massive part of the character, of what she experiences — being shut down, and corseted up, and tied to the bed, and quieted with ether. Misunderstood, misdiagnosed. But it’s more than that. She has an innate understanding about the shadow side of the world that we live in that she doesn’t have language for. This gift and power that she has isn’t in an environment where it’s being cultivated, to put it mildly. It’s pretty tragic. Then she makes the ultimate sacrifice, and she’s able to reclaim this power through death”.

The real tragedy on Ellen’s story is not her connection with Orlok; it’s her human life in Victorian society; where her supernatural gifts are medicalized, and dismissed at every turn. Like Robert Eggers also says: “[Ellen is a] victim to 19th-century society […] she can see into another realm, and has a certain kind of understanding that she doesn’t have the language for,” Eggers said. “But people are calling her melancholic and hysteric and all of these things.”

This entire story is Ellen liberating herself from her oppression by Victorian society, like Linda Muir, the costume designer, tells us in an interview about how Ellen’s wardrobe tells a story about female repression and liberation:

Her [Ellen] true nature [takes over] in the end. She liberates herself by ripping herself open, ripping her striped dress open. She liberates herself by wearing the same garment over and over and over again when she's staying at Harding's home. So she's liberated herself in that she doesn't feel the need to dress up completely each and every day. And then she liberates herself completely in the end.”

Linda Muir also talked about the importance of "Ellen's corset" to the story in an interview with "The Art of Costume", and it symbolizes her oppression and medicalization by Victorian society.

Historically, corsets have always been considered an instrument of women’s oppression, so it’s not surprising to see them having the same meaning here. Corsets were restrictive devices that rendered women immobile, passive and prone to fainting, and the Feminist movement of the 20th century saw them as “as one of the quintessential Victorian social horrors”. Corsets were also considered a sign of respectability, because they controlled the body, and, by extension, physical passions.

Ellen corset consumes her until she tries to break free from it during her “possession scene” with Thomas; the point of that scene was her showing him her true nature, and his reaction was to call the doctor on her. His “love” and her medicalization are the same. That’s what she leaves behind. And at the end, she’s fully naked before Orlok, no more corsets, fully liberated.

This is a very feminist story through the lenses of Historical Feminism, because this is about Ellen reclaiming her own power, through death and sex (the core themes of this story).

[leelousin]

Random Headcanons about Tony Stark

» Hi everyone! This is the first time I've tried Headcanons excercise! And what better way to do it than on Tumblr! I have no pretensions to knowing how to write anything but I wanted to share this with you! At the moment I'm re-watching MCU films and I have to admit that nostalgia for the early films has overwhelmed me so here I am with some Headcanons I got from Tony Stark. These are a bit randoms but if you have any suggestions don't hesitate to ask! I want to have a bit of fun with the Marvel fandom and if there are any Avengers 2012 nostalgics out there, you're more than welcome aha!

❁ Tony will never admit that he's the kind of person who looks at his phone as soon as he wakes up to see if the person he's interested in has answered in the night. He plays up his disinterested attitude but deep down he likes to make sure he has the person's undivided attention.

❁ When Tony is upset he doesn't just isolate himself in his garage for the pleasure of solitude and to think things through, but because he is convinced that his annoyance has too much impact on others and his worst nightmare is to show his vulnerability or feel that he is a problem to be dealt with.

❁ Tony is materialistic and likes to own nice things, but he's not fundamentally attached to them. He can spend thousands dollars on a fine piece of art only to change his mind next week. But he does have an undeniable attachment to the little things that the people closest to him can give him (a dumb keyring, for example) and he'll never want to be without it.

❁ Tony loves to dance and if he didn't have an image to uphold of the millionaire playboy and the Stark industry he would dance all the time as soon as a music came into his head.

❁ Tony would have liked to spend more time with his parents, despite the fact that his father worked a lot, and he would sometimes shadow him when he was a teenager, eavesdropping on his office just to hear a bit of his voice and feel like he was spending a day with him. He learned a lot from spying on his own father, who didn't include him much in his work and life.

»For now it's a short post but here it is a try eheh. Ofc I talked about nostalgia but if you have any ideas even for the most recent shows I'll take it too, the goal is to have fun! thank you❣︎

[goldfades]

devin booker is such a cutie and i loveddd his little vlogs from the olympics. maybe you can do something with that like him wanting to film you all the time and his commentary is just complimenting you

aaaaaa stop he's actually so cutie patootie i cant explain it, i hope you enjoy this blurb, hon!!! also pls send more dbook requests, i'm OBSESSED.

The camera lens follows you before you even realize it, the red light blinking in the corner of your vision. You glance up from your phone, catching Devin in the act—elbows propped on the breakfast table, camera balanced in one hand, a lazy, satisfied smirk curling his lips.

"Babe," you warn, but it’s barely a threat. More like a sigh of someone who’s already lost this battle.

He hums, zooming in on your face. "Damn, look at her," he says, voice low and slow, like he’s narrating something sacred. "Most beautiful woman in France right now. Maybe in the whole world."

You roll your eyes, hiding your smile behind a sip of coffee. "You’re ridiculous."

"Nah," he counters easily. "I'm just speaking facts. MVP of my life, real Hall of Fame career."

The camera shifts as he leans back, giving you a full frame in the morning light—messy hair, oversized Team USA hoodie, the remnants of sleep still softening your features. You know he’ll use this footage later, probably cut it into one of his little vlogs, add some vibey music and slow motion like you’re the main character in a documentary he’s directing. And maybe you are.

You reach across the table, fingers brushing his wrist as you push the camera down. "Eat your food, Spielberg."

Devin just grins, but he listens. Sort of. He sets the camera down but doesn’t stop watching you, like every little thing you do is something worth remembering. He takes a slow bite of his toast, still smirking, like he knows something you don’t.

You raise a brow. "What?"

"Just admiring my girl," he says, like it’s the simplest truth in the world.

You snort, shaking your head. "You been admiring me this whole trip. Should I be concerned? You forget what basketball is?"

He clicks his tongue, setting his toast down and leaning forward on his elbows. "Basketball's cool and all," he says, real slow, like he’s about to say something real dumb. "But have you seen my girl in the morning? Crazy."

You groan, tossing your napkin at him, but he just laughs, catching it before it hits his chest. "Devin."

"Y/N," he parrots, grinning like a menace. "Admit it, you love the attention."

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest betrays you. He’s been doing this the whole trip—whenever he’s not playing, he’s got that camera trained on you, narrating like you’re some rare phenomenon he discovered. You, minding your business? "Look at her, man. Beautiful." You, drinking water? "Hydration queen." You, fixing your hair? "Damn. How’d I pull this?" It doesn’t matter what you’re doing—he’s documenting it like it’s the highlight reel of his life.

You sip your coffee, giving him a flat look over the rim. "You know, people probably watch these vlogs for the actual Olympic experience. Not you thirsting over your girlfriend for ten straight minutes."

He shrugs, like the thought doesn’t bother him at all. "They’ll get what they get," he says. "I’m just keeping it real."

You shake your head, exhaling like you’re exasperated, but the smile pulling at your lips betrays you. "And what exactly is real?"

He leans back, hands behind his head, stretching like he’s got all the time in the world. "Real is me waking up every morning next to you and thinking, 'Damn. I really won in life.' Real is me looking at you across the table and forgetting whatever else I was supposed to be doing. Real is—"

"Okay, okay, I get it, Shakespeare," you cut in, throwing another napkin at him.

He chuckles, catching it with ease. "Don’t hate. You knew what you signed up for."

"Did I?" You tap your chin, pretending to think. "I don’t recall agreeing to be the unwilling star of a Devin Booker original production."

"You did the moment you said yes to me."

You shoot him a look. "I don’t remember you asking."

"Didn’t have to," he says, smug as ever. "You been mine from the jump."

The worst part? He’s not even lying. You’ve been his since the beginning, since before Team USA, before all these hotel breakfasts and stolen moments between games. He’s always looked at you like this, always made you feel like the most important thing in the room.

And you? You’ve always let him.

You sigh dramatically. "Fine. But if I’m the star, I should at least get a cut of the profits."

"You get all the benefits already, baby," he says, reaching across the table to steal a bite of your toast. "You got me."

You scoff, smacking his hand away. "Oh, lucky me."

He winks. "That’s what I’m saying."

Later in the day, after practice and a quick shower, you and Devin head out to grab lunch at one of the dining halls. The Olympic Village is buzzing—athletes from all over, decked out in their country’s gear, weaving in and out of the food stations, balancing trays stacked with enough protein to feed a small army.

And, as expected, Devin’s got that damn camera out again.

You sigh, already feeling it before you even turn around. "Devin."

He hums innocently. "Hmm?"

"You’re filming again, aren’t you?"

"Maybe."

You spin on your heel and, sure enough, there he is, camera up, zooming in on your face like you're the most interesting thing in the room. You stare him down. "Booker."

"Y/N," he mimics, like this is all very normal behavior. "The people need to know what I deal with daily."

You cross your arms. "And what’s that?"

He grins, turning the camera back to himself. "Pure, unfiltered hater energy."

You blink at him. "I just wanna eat my food in peace."

"That’s what I’m saying," he nods, flipping the camera back to you. "Look at her, man. Just tryna enjoy her lunch. No thoughts, just vibes. Gorgeous."

"Stop commentating like I’m a nature documentary," you groan, turning back to the buffet. "I’m literally just picking out pasta."

"Majestic," Devin says under his breath, zooming in dramatically as you put some penne on your plate. "Her natural habitat: the pasta station."

You glance at him over your shoulder. "I will throw this at you."

"Do it," he challenges, still recording. "It’ll make great content."

You exhale through your nose, fighting a smile as you grab a bread roll. "I’m gonna start charging you for this. You’re getting premium footage."

"Oh, you get paid in full, sweetheart," he says, sliding up beside you and snagging a plate. "In kisses."

You scoff. "Tragic. Where’s my check?"

Devin lifts the camera slightly, angling it down at you. "Babe, I am the check."

You burst out laughing. "This is actually the worst vlog of all time."

"Nah," he smirks. "This is a Devin Booker classic."

You roll your eyes and head to the drinks section, and of course, Devin follows, still filming like some dedicated documentarian. You pick up a bottle of water, and before you even twist the cap, you hear him behind you.

"There she go, hydrating. Love that."

You exhale sharply through your nose, gripping the bottle tighter. "Devin."

"Y/N."

"Drink your juice and stop commentating my every move."

"You’re just so fascinating," he says, trailing after you to the checkout. "Like, look at her. Existing. Being beautiful. Crazy."

"You need a hobby," you mutter, grabbing some utensils.

He lifts his tray in one hand, keeping the camera on you. "You’re my hobby."

You finally turn, pointing your fork at him. "That’s actually sick behavior."

"And yet," he grins, leaning in slightly, "you love it."

You pretend to think for a moment, then shake your head. "Nope."

Devin gasps, putting a hand to his chest. "Damn. So that’s how you feel?"

"Yup," you say, popping the ‘p’ and walking off to find a table.

He follows, camera still rolling. "Cold world, man. Cold world."

"You’ll survive," you say over your shoulder.

"But at what cost?"

"You’re such a drama queen," you mutter, finally sitting down.

Devin sets the camera on the table, still aimed at you, and slides into the seat across from you. He leans on his elbows, watching as you take your first bite of food. "So beautiful," he sighs.

You point your fork at him again. "Swear to God, if you don’t cut it out—"

Devin just laughs, finally cutting the camera off. But the way he looks at you? Like you’re still the best thing in the room? That doesn’t stop.

TOP COMMENTS

user01: this isn't even an olympic vlog anymore. this is 'devin booker simping for his gf: the documentary.'

user02: the way he narrates her every move like she's a rare species in the wild 😭 'her natural habitat: the pasta station' had me in TEARS.

user03: y/n trying to exist in peace while devin provides live commentary like an nba analyst 😭😭

user04: the way he follows her around like a lost puppy. bro is not real.

user05: she really said 'this is the worst vlog of all time' while devin was calling her the love of his life LMAOOO, she's the #ihatemybf final boss

user06: y/n threatening him every five seconds but still letting him film her. true love. thats how every man should be

user07: men, take notes this is the standard now!!!!

[sleepymccoy]

if you wanted to convince someone who had never seen any star trek that they should watch it, which episode (from any of the shows) would you show them and why?

Okay so I'm going to beg forgiveness and give you two episodes just cos I did this with my dad and I still think it's so so interesting

First is an episode of strange new worlds. The one where captain Pike gets told he's gonna become disabled and he tries to avoid it so they play out the plot of the balance of terror with Pike in charge and because he's a bit more reluctant to go to arms against the romulans and he obeys the word of the law, causing war to break out

Then we watch the balance of terror from tos to compare

And I think anyone who likes sci-fi or film history will enjoy that, and that gets you past the why are we watching this to oh this is interesting and then they can decide themself if they liked the show enough to watch it. But you can frame it as almost educational about film in general, not just watching star trek for the sake of it

Because the snw version is so modern. It doesn't really feel it when you watch it, they try to be a bit 60s about things and exist just as sci-fi but like. The lens flares. The increase in injuries. The drama! Oh my god the interpersonal drama. And it's always noisy, if no one's talking then the music is swelling. The scenes cut fast and change constantly. It's kind of exhausting

Then you watch tos and yeah it's the same sort of plot but it's done totally differently. Jim doesn't voice every thought he has, but you can see him thinking. Injuries are minor except the death, and even then it's not gory at all. There's long long periods of silence with only radar bleeps. I saw someone online describe it as submarine warfare and it is. You feel the mystery of the unknown and the tense parallel with chess. It's amazing

I think the TOS episode is miles better. My dad grew up with star trek so he's not the example you gave, but he hadn't watched any in decades. I made him watch these two back to back with me, snw first then tos, and we talked about film and tv editing and how submarines work and the sort of statement each episode was making and which we thought was stronger for thirty minutes after. And I think that is a very good outcome for a star trek watch

Trek is just so much more esoteric and political than people expect. So if you can get someone in a frame of mind to engage on that level they may appreciate it. And if you can do it in a way that's here compare these two pieces of film in a vacuum (like, the show explains everything. There's no series plot in tos and snw drops most of its season arc for that ep) then it levels the playing ground. It's not you as the holder of star trek lore lecturing them on what political view is being stated, it's just two mates talking about the two episodes they just watched. And I think starting with the newer one is better cos it matches what people expect more, tos is quite a tone switch if you've only seen the latest Netty dramas for the last few years. But it softens you up to being able to engage in tos with an open mind

Unless you're both drunk, in which case watch The Arena

[petercapaldi-press]

INTERVIEW

Interview: How 1980s Glasgow inspired Peter Capaldi's debut album

3rd November 2021

Paul Trainer Best of Scotland magazine

I WANT to ask Peter Capaldi about his debut album but first he wants to know what the weather is like in Glasgow. He’s planning a trip up for a few days and we spend a moment discussing sensible clothing to pack.

An instantly recognisable actor, there’s not much time spent in pubs these days while he is here but he does like to have a wander around. “I like going around the old parts of the city, where Glasgow emerges, then I will often find myself up around the art school,” he explains.

One crisp December evening a few years ago I was charging through shoppers on Buchanan Street when I was suddenly confronted by the elongated figure and tousled locks of Capaldi as he took a photograph of the police box that sits outside of The Ivy restaurant in the city centre. I relate this momentary, unexpected encounter to him, describing the blue box as “his old office”, an oblique reference to the TARDIS, and his role as the twelfth incarnation of Doctor Who.

He breaks into a cackle, then volunteers: “Sometimes I pass those – Glasgow’s one of the few places with police boxes – so if I see one I send a picture on to a friend of mine who is also in the same mode, shall we say,” giving an intriguing hint at a Time Lord WhatsApp group.

For some people, Capaldi will always be Malcolm Tucker in The Thick Of It – a bombastic performance characterised by a hail of Scottish invective, creating a political satire monolith that continues to cast a shadow nine years after the show went off air. Being cast in Bill Forsyth’s Local Hero in 1983 was a breakthrough. Ten years later he would win an Oscar for Best Live Action Short Film as writer and director of a film about Franz Kafka that starred Richard E Grant. Then there was a memorable turn as Uncle Rory, a significant but infrequent presence in the television adaptation of The Crow Road. More recently, he starred as The Thinker in James Gunn’s The Suicide Squad. There’s a lot in the back-catalogue.

Before all that Peter started his performing career in music. While studying at The Glasgow School of Art, he put together a band, The Dreamboys, (future comedian Craig Ferguson was the drummer) and enjoyed a small part of the thriving music scene in the city at the time.

While his life went down a different road, he retains his love of music and has recorded a 10-track release called St Christopher. His relationship with music is more to do with storytelling and creating something new. “I’m not that guy who brings a guitar along to every party,” he says.

The story of the album started with an invitation from a friend, Robert Howard, the Scottish singer of The Blow Monkeys, to come along to a few recording sessions at his studio.

“Robert, who’s great and a wonderful musician, does this thing called the Monks Road Social, which is a conglomerate of musicians who put out an album every year, and they’re just happenings. I’d be encouraged to vaguely join in.” At one of these get-togethers Peter was asked if he had anything to record.

“I quickly put together a song, which they recorded in the space of a day, and it was so much fun. I thought: ‘Oh, I really want to do this again.’

“Over a period eight or nine months, I did that. I wrote stuff and sent it to Robert and we would ditch certain ones, and on then other ones he’d say: ‘Let’s hang onto that.’ ”

Did that first song that he wrote make it onto the album? “That was song called If I could Pray, which was released as a single to no acclaim last year. It got about two plays on the radio. That’s showbiz.”

When Peter was in Atlanta in the US to shoot The Suicide Squad he found he had time on his hands. He travelled to Nashville and started writing new songs. A band was assembled and a studio booked in London. Then lockdown intervened. They persevered.

“We just sent it back and forth over the digital ether and then sent it to the percussionist or some other musician who would add something wonderful to it. Because we had the option to do it, we thought: ‘Let’s just put this out and in a very low-key way, just start doing music.’ ”

There’s a lot of Glasgow in this record: echoes of Scotland set against a canvas of Americana guitar and retro synths. “I kept going back to a Glaswegian art school ‘80s vibe,” Peter says.

“The city itself, how it has such a power about it. Glasgow is a wonderful, noirish, synthy setting for things. Robert is very different and his musical experiences takes it in another direction occasionally, which is interesting.”

The American elements enter via those Nashville trips. “When I went there it felt like the spiritual home of any Glaswegian. You feel so at home, the music is elemental and we’ve been fed it already.

“The melodrama and the sadness and the darkness and the joy that’s very present in country music: the west of Scotland is a cauldron of that stuff and we reach for it all the time.

“There’s always a wish among Glaswegian musicians to mythologise the place in music and I think I’m trying to do that as well.”

Peter is open to the idea of taking some of the songs out onto a stage but there’s no tour planned. “Maybe a theatre piece, I don’t know”. He won’t be signing up for a musical. “This isn’t a new career or anything. This is an exploration of my own interest, an expression of who I am, being a performer and an actor and a director. That inevitably leads me to conjure up things, I think, as opposed to making hit singles.”

There’s already one Capaldi in that game. “He’s fantastic and I’m so knocked out by Lewis and I’m so proud of him and he’s just incredible. This is not an attempt to be a pop star.”

If this record, then, picks up where he left off in music, revisiting a time and place, what does he remember of his art school days?

“That was a golden period. In the sense that the government did pay for kids to go into further education and it was an ideology that was respected and it allowed so many of us who came from humble backgrounds to come into these various professions because we were allowed to go and explore.

“Art school was a great melting pot of ideas. There was just a general ethos that you could do anything in that building off the top of the hill there and that you were part of the city. It was the late 70s moving into the 1980s.

“We’d hang out in Nico’s, the first place you could buy a cappuccino or go to The Griffin pub opposite The King’s Theatre. Maestro’s was a nightclub we all use to end up and there was always some piece of nonsense being planned there. We’d do gigs that were not organised or you’d be asked to join other bands to play.

“When we arrived at the art school, we were all dressed as Neil Young with long hair and great coats. Then in the summer the punk thing happened. So we all came back with plastic trousers and peroxide hair. It was very open to all the ideas in the zeitgeist. I didn’t realise it at the time, but it was the perfect place to be.”

St Christopher by Peter Capaldi is released by Monks Road Records on November 19. 

This interview was featured in Best of Scotland magazine, published monthly in The Herald on Sunday and Sunday National newspapers. You can read the November edition here. 

[blitzynatural]

SANDY KISSES

@bucktommyfluffebruary

Read on ao3

FLUFFEBRUARY DAY 12 - A DAY AT THE BEACH 

When Buck had first gotten the invitation to go to the beach, he had admittedly felt reluctant to join. Not because he didn't enjoy the beach, but because it has originally been a plan between just Tommy, Eddie and Chim.

Buck had been added as an afterthought, so of course that stung, and of course that had made him feel petty enough to outright refuse. 

That had been before Tommy had showed him his swimming trunks that had helped set his imagination to places that may had had a hand in him changing his mind. That plus Tommy's incredibly persuasive (seductive) way had gotten him excited about going to the beach. 

He didn't regret his choice as he was sitting perched up on a blanket covering the sand, his eyes following the movement of his boyfriend in his swim wear that clung so deliciously to his crotch that Buck was practically drooling. And he wasn't the only one. Tommy had been snatched up by a couple of women playing volleyball and had gained quite an audience. Just like Buck, they weren't interested in watching the game, and he couldn't fault them for that. His man was hot and he was his and that absolutely thrilled him. 

“See, this is why we didn't want to invite you,” Eddie whines somewhere next to him. “We knew you'd get all-” he gestures at all of Buck. “That over half-naked Tommy.” 

“Look at him. He's so dreamy.” 

Eddie throws his hands up in the air in mock exasperation. “I give up.” 

“That's on Tommy for betraying us,” Chimney weighs in. “Man, between the two of them, I thought for sure Buckaroo would be the worst. Turns out there's two of them. All googly eyes and disgustingly sweet. And I'm supposed to be the newlywed here.” 

“If you say so,” Buck says, not listening to their conversation at all as Tommy finally breaks free from the game and reaches for his water bottle to uncork it and pour it over himself. Buck almost loses it right then and there and has to restrain himself from throwing himself at him in front of all the thirsty women who are all gasping and squealing and filming. 

“Oh, come on. There's no way he didn't plan that. That's a classic move,” says Chimney and Eddie laughs. Buck ignored them and sits up when Tommy approaches them. 

“Hi.” He smiled brightly, his eyes fully on Buck. 

“Hi. You, uh… are you done playing?” Tommy squats down in front of him and brushes his thumb over Buck's chin sweetly, though his eyes are glinting with a bit of mischief. Buck knows that look.

“Maybe,” the pilot replies and grins more widely before surging forward to kiss him deeply. Buck lets out a thrilled noise and tugs him closer and fully onto the blanket before he pulls away before he gets too distracted. 

“See what I mean? Chopped liver over here,” Eddie complains though there is some humor in his voice. Tommy laughs and moves to sit down next to Buck and ducks his head to press an affectionate kiss onto his bare shoulder. His audience seem to have disappeared by now after their little PDA and Buck had a feeling that that had been a part of his plan. 

So it was safe to say that he did in fact not regret going to the beach. 

[marzipanilla]

I think I just desperately miss shows with 20+ eps a season.

Even with him fumbling it I would love Mark actually attempting to be a bastion of morals/attempting the right thing. I think they're almost trying to do that this season with his confrontation with Cecil, but it all falls so flat because Mark struggles to even articulate why he thinks he's right to begin with except by defining himself as not his father. Once more we missed out on him attempting to find a role model people consider good and doing what he could in his power to emulate and either learning something about what being a beacon for ppl means or realizing that everyone fucks up and purity culture in a trauma response job ain't gunna get you no where. He's so obsessed with power level he doesn't realize he needs to actually learn things. Like why it's important to help people at all. He doesn't know apparently, since he can't explain to Oliver that being a hero is more than killing people who were hurting others. hint Mark- it's because the unilateral power Cecil fears you capable of wielding is the same shit he wields

We need flashbacks to Nolan's time w the Guardian bc what was that like before he had the slightly awkward shit we see in S1 ep 1. Immortal mostly trusts him during the white house attack and is genuinely horrified at the thought of him hurting the team ! Unlike in the comic where he just says 'I've always hated you' which like I could take either canon- tho it really feels more like a dick measuring contest gone wrong instead of 'I knew you were bad I just couldn't put my finger on it' in the comic.

Team dynamics my beloved. Wonder Woman was under some rubble and Batman was desperately digging her out and they made him stop and when she emerged a moment later she noticed the dirt on his hands !! and comforted him even tho he tried to hide the fact he was scrambling to get her out ! no words just actions ! like ! give me tiny character moments -sob- The JL getting coffee and blankets for each other when sleepy D : (and more a character moment than a team moment but Clark crawling into the rocket he came to Earth on to hide bc his dream monster form was hurting people and he just wanted to be safe !!! all visual never discussed w dialogue !! beautiful!!) Also Lisa Edelstein showed up as a voice for a side char and I spent the whole ep going who ??? until I saw the credits lol

Oh that's a fun scene! I've maybe only ever seen the first Madagascar film lol But yeah, even changing the tone- please let the team play off of each other! We get .5 seconds of that in S1 during the end of the Machine Head fight. a tiny. tiny moment. Definitely limitations and budget for animation, but gah- like !! the whole squad going up for the sequid invasion threat and literally two people doing anything at all !! like !! WHY DID ALL OF YOU GO YOU LITERALLY DID NOTHING. Blame yourselves for what happened on the ground team, like, damn, the whole team did not need to go into space. You'd think you would have figured that out by now.

Everyone gets female characters jewelry in media and I hate it lol Look, there are times it can work- heirlooms, genuinely discussed mcguffin/backstory pieces where whatever it is means something, but the vast majority of the time it's just a shiny necklace picked up from the fucking mall. And what do the women get their men? Insanely thoughtful gifts about their personalities and interests. If you can only think to get your partner jewelry, then you fucking know nothing about them at all. My biggest example of this is from the show Castle, where one episode has the main chick setting up a recreation of Rear Window for the main dude to experience/play out like it's real bc he's stuck at home on his birthday. The entire episode is about what goes down. When it's her birthday? He buys her a necklace, and it's a subplot to whatever it going on in the ep, and it's a comedic subplot bc he loses it at one point and most of the antics around the gift aren't even about her. And then he gives her the necklace at the end that we're never going to see her wear again because she has a job where wearing shit like that isn't a good idea.

I fucking hate jewelry as a gift. It says I don't know anything about this character and I refuse to put any effort in.

Also is Kate gunna where her fucking wedding ring on missions??? like ??? what ??? Then again, I think Nolan, Mark and Eve are legit the only heroes in the entire series who have secret identities/civilian identities, so like- I guess it doesn't matter?? 90% of you have your fucking name as part of your hero name if you have a name at all. A part of me is glad the show never really deep dives into those stories, they sort of did with Amber in S1, and they bring it up a bit with Debbie telling Paul this season, but like, at the end of the day, this is a world where secret identities are 1000% just... not a thing. Everyone calls Mark, Mark. Like. EVERYONE. To the point that it didn't even occur to him that A SPACE ALIEN knowing his first name might have been a red flag in S2 when he went to Thraxa.

Mark is only strong in the 11th hour and I would hope someone is genre savvy enough to realize that by now. Do not call on Invincible unless everyone is already dead, he is worthless otherwise lol

The rogue's gallery is kind of sad for this show. Like. There is no personal element to any of the reoccurring villains (there's like.. one coming up that's personal and then there's Levi), and if you want them to be menacing and reoccurring they either really need to rep something socially bad and you're commenting on it each time they make their appearance and its about THAT and the teams response to it, or you need a personal connection with the villain. Doc Seismic just makes broad strokes first semester of college level commentary about the current state of society! Tho, I will say, I think his token diversity comment is literally the first time Mark has been acknowledged as not white? Which like, I get not bringing it up all the fucking time especially since it is a change from the comics, but, it IS a change from the comics and in either medium he is a mixed race kid! We ever going to give him a chance to talk about that? You know, the thing he and Oliver SHOULD ACTUALLY BE ABLE TO TALK ABOUT THAT'S PERSONAL TO THEM AND HUMANIZING AND NOT ABOUT HAVING COME OUT OF NOLAN'S DICK? Where is the moment where Oliver is slathering on make-up to go outside and lamenting on not being human passing the way Mark is? Where does Mark get to acknowledge being alien?

Cecil did go to Debbie in an attempt to get a hand in Oliver's training and it IS wild to think about what that would have entailed. 'Cause like, I think he woulda seen that kid go 'and then I kill them now, right??' and had to go : / pretty damn quick about it lol Also him constantly antagonizing Mark after everything is hilarious. Like. Are you trying to prove to everyone watching that Mark is also being unhinged or are you Just Like That Cecil. Like, when Cecil called off the reanimen but they kept beating on Mark- was that just him putting in a false call to make it sound like he was calling them off and then Mark went cray cray on them anyway, or did he genuinely try and call them off and it didn't work for some reason? Bc him trying to get other heroes on his side by showing off how powerful/dangerous Mark could be is kinda funny.

Some blank space is fun to work with in fic, but too much blank space and it feels like you're floating in the ether going ?? this ?? make sense maybe ?? but then what do you push off of? Just make up some shit to justify why the char thinks that way or skip over justifying it and hope the narrative stays strong despite it?

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.

[poirott]

A Haunting in Venice + rain

"The rain obviously was very atmospheric and for my taste I would have had thunderclaps all over the place! But Ken [Branagh] was keen not to overdo those tropes. And hopefully we found the sweet spot of having some fun but without overdoing it. But again, it all leads into this: the house has been there longer than the humans that are currently inhabiting it. The weather itself is subsuming the house and the house is sinking. It's rotting, it's leaking, it's groaning. The electrics are dodgy. You have the feeling that anything you touch might be the last thing you ever do. Just to give it that jagged, dangerous feeling of hum, of atmosphere, of the danger that they're cut off from the outside world and reason." - Lucy Donaldson, the editor of A Hauting in Venice (Art of the Cut interview, September 21 2023)

[xochimillilili]

Probably a tiny bit early to be thinking of it, but shit I just wanna have a little halloween themed evening with a cute boy. Maybe invite him over for a movie marathon, baking ghost cookies and hanging up decorations— and barely an hour in just before staring a horror film, already have him tied up on my couch, a pumpkin plush shoved into his mouth as a gag, teasing his soft tits with a knife and pretend spiderwebs as I tell him how I'll fuck him stupid soon enough

Maybe I'll drip hot wax on his pretty body with one of the candles from the jack o lanterns, wear a mask as I spank his ass until bruised. Or maybe shallowly fuck his pretty cunt with the hilt of a plastic bloody axe. Finish the night off by finally fucking him stupid and getting him cockdrunk, pumped full of cum as I cuddle him close to me, telling him what a good boy he is... before finally admitting I'm a dumb lil scaredy cat with horror movies, melting at his cute laugh as we go off to scare the shit out the neighbors by setting up our giant skeleton in the yard