#i think it probably felt like role play to him. and not the therapeutic kind

[faxxmodem]

imo one of the most underrated moments in jigsquad canon is in saw iv when rigg is watching a tape of hoffman interrogating jill. do you think they rehearsed beforehand or was "johns life defies chronology" straight improv on jill's part

[mindofharry]

in which you’re acting in olivia’s wilde’s new movie and harry happens to be a big fan.

SO EXCITED FOR YALL TO READ THIS!!! :D feedback is welcome as always <3

fluff!!!! and just a lot of stuff about hollywood and the industry etc!!

You remember being eighteen and getting your first acting job on a big series. The most popular series on netflix at the time. You were so young and so new but you couldn’t let this offer go, so you took it and it was the best decision you ever made. It started you career and you ended with a job you love and are so very passionate about.

Soon enough the show decided that they would do one final season, you were 20 and had only done two movies since then. They were good movies but there was nothing much to them, you were just the best friend in them and nothing more.

When the job the series ended your agents were looking high and low for auditions and ideas etc. Everything was going pretty well, you had secured a place on a movie (again only a best friend) and you were pretty confident with what the future was going to hold. Doing that movie, that you thought you would only be a side character - was the best thing that had ever happened to you. You were praised for your role in the drama, and ended wining awards you never could even dream about. You also picked up a lot of lifelong friends.

Things were going so well. You had auditions and managers wanting you from every corner of the states, directors and producers calling up your agents. You felt as if nothing could stop you or get in your way.

Then COVID struck.

You were so grateful that you had a roof over your head and friends living with you in such a depressing and emotional time, but you couldn’t help but be upset. You were so excited for your career to finally take off and for you to get properly working.

But you just had to make do with what you had. You were in lots of lives on instagrams and still did lots of press for you latest movie and tv series. Although it was basically just the same questions, but you had something to keep you busy.

***

“Now don’t get too excited, but i got you an audition for a movie olivia wilde is directing” Alexia, your agent and bestfriend said over the phone. You grabbed your other friend, Danny, arm grinning at his confused expression.

“I love you so much, y’know that” you say listening to laugh alexia let out.

“I said don’t get too excited, but i think you’ve got this. just do your usual set up and clean face and hair out of your face ok?”

You nod and then answer back with a quick yes and a goodbye before hanging up and squealing. “i’ve got an audition for an olivia wilde movie” you yell making danny stand up and bring you into a hug.

“Fuck yes!” he yelled and then suddenly he stopped looking you dead in the eye. “This is the first time i’ll see you in your zone, Ms Emmy award winning actress” he teased making you hit him with a soft smile.

“You’re gonna have to help me dan, like read my script out when i get it. And help me set up lighting and shit”

“Sounds important, you sure you don’t want sara to help you with that?” he asked referring to his sister, and your partner in crime. You had all been friends since middle school all living in the same neighbourhood and going to the same school.

You were together through everything.

When sara got denied from her top college, when danny came out as bisexual, when your mom had died. Of course you had fights, like every friend. But you always came back to eachother. Sara and danny stayed with you when you were done with acting, when your mom had died very suddenly, when your dad lost contact with you and your brother. They were really the best friends you could ever ask for. You were so grateful.

“Should be ok, will probably need sara’s opinion seen as shes a film major. But it’s pretty easy stuff dan” you insisted picking up your laptop from the couch and opening it up.

Danny nodded and sat beside you placing an around your shoulder.

“i think you’ll get it. don’t know what it’s about, but you’re definitely fit for an olivia wilde movie”

You grin at him and open up your email to see alexia has sent you some lines to record.

“i’m going to go over these a bit, but i’ll let you know when i need you”

***

Danny and sara helped you with the audition tape and calmed your nerves and frustrations. Usually your anxiety is high when waiting for a call back, but now with covid and not getting the work you want it’s beginning to get a little worse. But you had your best friends there to guide you through it.

Weeks went on and no news came and honestly you forgot all about it moving onto different projects and stuff for 2022.

Then you got a call.

“y/n. you got the part”

And with that, you, danny and sara celebrated. You were beyond grateful and couldn’t believe you had gotten work — let alone with olivia wilde.

A bottle of wine and chinese takeout was the best you guys were going to get, but you didn’t complain one bit. Love island was on in the background while danny painted your nails and sara did your hair. “I can’t believe i’m going to be working along side olivia fucking wilde” you squealed making danny laugh and sara pull your hair. You yelped. “Olivia wilde gets to work along side Y/N fucking L/N” she corrected earning a couple of laughs out of you and danny. You guys celebrated anything and everything, it was like your tradition.

Danny got a haircut - celebration. sara finished editing that video that she had in the background for a good morning - celebration. you finally getting rid of those horrible earrings - celebration.

it was also an excuse to order unhealthy amounts of takeout.

“y’know i feel good about this”

Danny nodded putting the nail polish on the coffee table. “i can see that. look more confident” he added sara agreeing with him.

“just don’t forget about us when you get to go to the met gala. you’ve already done one hit movie, let’s hope this this another”

***

The script you received was absolutely amazing.

you couldn’t explain it, how it made you feel. You just couldn’t wait to play this character - although it was very different to your last character, you still felt so connected to it. A thriller was something you could never see yourself in, even now you have a hard time believing you’re going to be in one. And the amount of sex scenes thats in it, it did get you a little excited, albeit you were a tiny bit nervous.

“Harry styles” Alexia said over zoom, you grinned and danced around your sitting room.

“What are you dancing about?” danny asked putting the groceries on the counter.

“i’m gonna be having pretend sex with harry fucking styles!” you yelled making alexia cackle and danny dance around the room with you. “this is definitely something to celebrate. i’ll get the wine!” danny said dancing his way to the kitchen.

“well i’m glad you’re not shy. Olivia said harrys quite nervous about it all. obviously he was in dunkirk, but this is his first proper movie” she said making you nod “i know you’ll make him feel comfortable, but you are so confident so please don’t scare him off” alexia teased making you pout.

“i can’t help it. but i’ll make him a gift basket or something” you shrugged and alexia smiled.

“this is why i love you”

“ok so, harry styles, olivia wilde and y/n l/n in one movie?” sara asked making you smile as danny cheered. “my baby is making me so proud” sara cried dragging you up off the floor and spinning you around. you giggled and poured.

“i love you guys so much, y’know that?” you say putting an arm around both of their shoulders.

“eh, we love you too” sara said shrugging her shoulders.

“eh? shut the fuck up. say you love me like you mean it” you say tickling them. “ok! we love you, so much” danny yelled making you stop and put your hands on your hips.

“good to know”

And so the days went by you video chatting with olivia and the other producers. Making sure to check in with everyone as well. Olivia was the sweetest person ever, she called to just talk or to go over any queries or notes you had. She was honestly such a genuine person and you were glad you got to work with someone so kind.

Today was the day you would be meeting some of the cast and producers etc. You hadn’t really seen anyone other than alexis, sara and danny so you were excited.

You’re an outgoing, extroverted person so covid really hit you hard. You get bored easily too, so you really needed this lunch.

Deciding to dress up a little, you put on your favourite flare jeans and white tank top. You tucked it in and placed your red cardigan over it. And obviously your go to shoes were your white converse — your feet haven’t grown since high school, so you call these converse your lucky converse since you’ve worn them at every event. even at a red carpet!

Placing your hair in a braid, you did some natural looking makeup and then placed your rings on your fingers. “I’m going now, sara!” you called out only earning a groan — she had been working late last night so there was no seeing her until at least 2:30.

Danny was out on a hike clearing his energy or some shit he read online.

You were a bit nervous to drive there as you had only gotten your license recently, usually sara insists on driving everyone apparently it’s therapeutic, you’re in actual hell while driving. luckily the restaurant is only 10 minutes drive, so hopefully you make it there alive. you didn’t know how many people would be there, with covid and all you didn’t really know what to expect. You knew olivia would be there, and probably harry too. Which weirdly enough you weren’t too nervous about.

you had made a post on instagram about being excited to work with olivia and harry and the many other amazing people - and the harry fans of course went crazy. But overall everyone took the news really well.

When you arrived at the restaurant there were a few paps, probably there for harry and not expecting you. You’re a new popular actress, so this would make the paparazzi a lot of money. Once word got out that Y/N L/N and harry styles were having lunch together it would probably end it mayhem.

“y/n! over here!” a voice called out as you walked into the restaurant.

You smiled as you saw olivia wave at you. “ah! i’m so sorry i’m late” you say and olivia shook her head bringing you into a hug. “don’t worry about it! we’ve ordered some drinks, got you a coke” she said.

“i’m harry” a deep voice said from behind you, making you look around and see - harry fucking styles - introducing himself to you.

“i know who you are!” you giggled pulling him into a hug, which he obviously didn’t expect, but took it anyways. “i’m y/n” you say pulling back and sitting down infront him crossing your legs.

“i know who you are too” he blushed making you laugh again.

“you’re vegan, right?” you asked and he nodded “yeah, have been for a while. trying hard to stay somewhat healthy over quarantine” he said sipping on his water.

“well, i get a takeout probably two times a week and haven’t been to a gym in, i’d say 5 years”

Harry laughed loudly, making you laugh too. Olivia and the producers gave each other knowing smiles. They really hit the jackpot with this one.

***

“that wasn’t as bad as i thought” you mumbled as you got your first covid test done. It was very uncomfortable to say the least, but it didn’t hurt and you didn’t pass out so that was a plus.

you were going to start working next thursday, if everything goes to plan. If someone has covid then they obviously have to push it back.

You were so excited to get to work, it wouldn’t be like any other set you’d worked on. But you had a feeling it was going to be one you’ll remember forever.

“how was it?” danny asked as you got back in the car.

“better than expected. uncomfortable, but ok” you mumbled sitting back in the seat. Danny noticed how tired you were so he turned off the music and put down your window a little and let you sleep the whole journey home. You had been at all hours going over your script. This is what happened with you last role, and it was just the way you worked.

By the time you go on set you had everyone’s lines memorised.

The days went by slowly. It was actually quite painful. But your covid results came and you were negative and so was everyone else on the set and in your household. So you could finally get into work.

You were driven to work on thursday by a very nice man called john. He talked non stop, but it was nice to get to talk to some other than sara, danny and your agents.

“Have a good day john” you called out stepping out of the car your new pink mask adorning your face.

you had to get bangs the other day — you never heard the fucking end of it off of danny and sara. you had bangs in high school, along with some really badly done piercings and you told yourself never again. Of course the bangs looked good, they were amazing and you actually suited them this time. But that didn’t stop sara taking out all of the pictures of your freshman year and making you do a side by side for her instagram.

“you look tired” a voice called making you turn around a stick up the middle finger. You recognised the voice immediately, harry styles. He laughed coming beside you in his white vote shirt and tracksuit bottoms.

“i have to go and get my tattooes covered now” you sighed placing your phone in your tote bag, harry nodded “me too, the only time i’ll ever hate getting these tattoos”

“y’know i like them. the tattoos, they suit you” you say opening up the trailer door. harry stopped and smirked “hmm. see you later”

Covering up the tattoos didn’t take as long as you thought. The makeup and hair took a good hour and was painful with the mask - you did nearly pass out from the heat, but luckily harry stopped by with a cup of tea just in time.

God.

That man was something else. Seen as he’s never properly done this before, you thought he’d be full of first day jitters. But no, he’s going trailer to trailer, with tea’s and coffees.

“you nearly ready? we have our first scene soon” harry said leaning against the trailer door. All of you were practically ordered to wear a coat to cover the clothes as some paps had been spotted. It was a rather cold day so it didn’t make a difference to you.

“eager?”

He nodded holding your hand helping you down the steps of the trailer — heels were a real bitch you decided.

“paps and heel are assholes” you say making harry laugh. “you can say that again” he said dropping your hand and walking beside you.

You wanted him to hold your hand.

“don’t worry, i’ll go easy on you” you tease getting a pinch in return.

“more like the other way”

“yeah, christopher nolan movie ey? proper actor”

Harry rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face placing an arm around your shoulder.

“come on, wife.”

***

The days were long and some days were hard. But harry made everything so much better. Hugging you when you needed it, joking when you needed a laugh. There was paparazzi pictures of harry speaking and you laughing - which was a horrible cackle that made harry laugh. The fans were going crazy for you guys, and you were both asked constantly on whether there could be something more going on with you two.

“Another headline, H”

Harry shook his head with a small smile, placing the chinese onto the plate.

“your first drama headline, i’m so proud” Danny said placing an arm around you. Danny, sara you and now harry had decided to celebrate the first two weeks of filming and now apparently your first drama headline. Something about harry joining in all your tradition and not complaining about the awful food or very obnoxious and rude chats that go in, makes you soft and weirdly enough besotted.

“oh shut up, i’ll tell the paps that i’m dating you again. they’ll never leave you alone” you warn and danny backed off.

“again?” harry asked laughing slightly and passing you the plate full of food.

“everytime danny’s mean to me i tell the paps that we’re dating, even told one i was pregnant and that he didn’t want the baby”

“fuck off. remind me to never get on your badside” harry cackled sitting down beside you his food on the coffee table and his wine in the other. He had, had a good few drinks before hand too — he said “it’s my cheat night”.

Soon enough danny and sara went off to bed, not before danny teased you about how in love you and harry are. “oi! fuck off” harry yelled making danny squeal.

“please chase after me, daddy” danny said running down the hall.

“don’t humour him” you giggled sipping out of your wine glass.

“i’m in love with your friends” he said pausing to take a big gulp of his wine. “they’re just so genuine” he finished leaning back and placing a pillow on his lap. you nodded in agreement.

“we’ve been friends for years, before any of us were like somewhat famous”

“y’know i’ve seen your first movie about 100 hundred times” harry admitted making you flush. “shut up. you’re talking out of your ass” you say taking his wine glass away and pausing netflix.

“i’m serious. had a proper crush on you too” he laughed shaking his head.

“i don’t know if you remember, but i think it was a teens choice awards. and you had gone on stage to get an award and i helped you up the stairs thinking you had heels on” he said and you remember it vividly now.

“oh shit yeah! no, i wore my lucky converse. they’re pretty cool too”

“i think youre pretty” harry whispered moving closer to you. you bit your lip to try and stop yourself from squealing.

“hmmm. ok mr styles”

Before you could come up with another joke harry placed his lips on yours. You didn’t even hesitate in kissing him back, your hands flying to his hair. He moaned at the feeling of you tugging on it.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do that for” harry said slightly out of breath.

“don’t worry, darling” you paused.

“me too”

[ojcobsessed]

The dark prince: Oliver Jackson-Cohen comes of age

Britain's brightest acting talent on why he's relishing leaning into the darker side of humanity Words: Joseph Bullmore Photography: Adam Fussell Styling: Tony Cook 22 Dec, 2020 

Oliver Jackson-Cohen is utterly charming, with the looks and carriage of a Scandinavian royal consort. “But I can’t think of anything worse than playing a Prince Charming character,” the actor laughs. “It’s my utter nightmare. I would be terrible at it.” This, I think, is a healthy admission. Because Prince Charming — as the last 24 months of brutal Royal mishaps has proved — simply does not exist. And if he does, he’s probably rather boring.

Much more interesting, in fact, are the flawed, difficult, complex, darker areas of the male psyche. And it’s here, truly, where Oliver excels. You might remember seeing him (or not seeing him, in fact) as the eponymous Invisible Man, opposite Elizabeth Moss, in the psychological thriller earlier this year. Here, the gruesome fable was updated for a disquieting modern age — the villain is a tech guru, a messianic charmer, with a deep-seated psychopath complex.

“We’re currently obsessed with the darker parts of human nature,” Oliver says. “It’s like going to the zoo. We like to look at the danger and feel safe while watching it. I feel quite complicated, personally, and I like to use that in my roles. It becomes a sort of therapeutic thing with acting. I like to use all my sort of stuff, as it were.”

The effect is compelling, and it’s hard, sometimes, to square the warm and lovely actor with the darker, stranger roles he now finds himself in. “We just did a show called the Haunting of Bly Manor,” Oliver says. “And the character I play is a bit of a sociopath. They’re not fun to play, sociopaths. You’re kind of questioning, constantly, your moral compass. I think it raises so many questions about your own behaviour and your place in the world.”

Still, Oliver is happy to ask the questions. “I love the research. I love figuring it out. It feels like a puzzle you can never quite finish. And sometimes it gets to the point where we start filming, and I think: “I don’t want to do it now. I’ve done the interesting bit!’ But we all have this fascination with how people operate and behave.” he says. “And I’m constantly fascinated by how human beings work.”

Prince Charming, meanwhile, simply doesn’t offer those intriguing depths. “When I started, I was so compliant to what I was being told, or what I thought I should do. I was doing the jobs I thought I should be doing, not the ones I wanted to do,” he explains. “So about four years ago, I had a tough conversation with myself, and I thought: Just do stuff that you want to do. Do what feels right to you. And what’s been really interesting is this: that the things I’ve really felt I wanted to be a part of, they have almost all seemed to work. Which is one of those life lessons. Follow your intuition — it rarely leads you down the wrong path.”

[rolyatswonderland]

When you wish Upon a Well

(story under the cut)

It was a calm day on the campus of Night Raven College, but perhaps oddly calm would be a better way to describe it. The nice breeze carried with it a pleasant silence, something rare for the rowdy school since it was always hustling and bustling with some sort of commotion. But Rolyat didn’t mind this new found quietness, she took it all in as she swept the sidewalks of the courtyard. Despite her no longer being the technical ‘janitor’ of the school, she would still help clean up from time to time. Finding the times where she would clean to be oddly calming and therapeutic in a way.

“Fyaaa, I don’t know how you can just sweep all day, I’d die of boredom honestly.” Grim said, sighing as he watched the girl sweep the leaves and dirt off the path, munching down on some fish shaped crackers that she had gotten for him at Sam’s shop.

Rolyat simply glanced at him and chuckled, continuing to sweep, “Well I don’t really mind it. Cleaning up can be nice sometimes” She smiled, sweeping away at the last pile of leaves and pushing them onto the grass. “Hmm, perhaps I should grab the rake next and put all the leaves into a nice little pile.” Rolyat stopped sweeping to observe her work, tapping a finger to her lips as she thought up what else it was she could do, but she could hear Grim groan from his sitting spot on the well.

“Ugh common Roly you’ve been cleaning for like, ever now...can’t you take a break for a second?” He slumped over, his head being held up by his paw as he stared at her, just watching her clean was making him tired, and he wasn’t even doing anything.

“Hmm” Rolyat looked between the scattered leaves and Grim before smiling with defeat “alright, alright, I’ll take a break” She smiled, making her way over to the well as she leaned the broom by a nearby bench. Grim sighed with relief, laying down on the brick edge of the well as Rolyat simply giggled, leaning against the brick’s as she gently patted his stomach, watching his tail swish in enjoyment.

There was always something about the well that felt oddly calming to her, watching the water down below ripple ever so slightly and the nice echoing sounds that came from it filled her with a sense of nostalgia. Resting her chin in her palm she leaned forward, glancing down at Grim who still laid there as if sleeping, her mind began to run with all sorts of thoughts and she felt as though she remembered something. Before she could even think to consider it, the words came falling out of her mouth anyways.

“Hey Grim, wanna know a secret?” Royal poked the cat gently.  Grim opened his bright cyan blue eyes as he stared at the girl curiously. “Promise not to tell?” She held a finger up to her lips with a smile, and that seemed to get more of his attention, Grim loved secrets.

“Yeah yeah! Tell me! What is it?” Grim beamed, sitting up and scooting closer to the girl and nodding his head, eager to listen.

“Well, we are standing by a wishing well~” She sang the words with a smile on her face, and Grim didn’t seem surprised by it as he peered down into the well. “Make a wish into the well, that’s all you have you do, and if you hear it echoing, your wish will soon come true~”

“Whoa, really?” Grim’s eyes sparkled as he looked back up at her with a curious and eager expression. Rolyat simply nodded, mouthing the word ‘watch’ as she pointed down into the well and leaned over slightly.

“I’m wishing~ For the one I love, to find me~ Today~ I’m hopping, and I’m dreaming of the nice things, he’ll say~”

The words echoed back from out of the well, causing Grim to jump back a bit in surprise at just how loud the echo was, but he stared in wonder as Rolyat nudjed him slightly to try for himself. He looked as though he were focusing all his confidence in his words, “I’m wishing, for lots of tuna~! Albacore, Bluefin, and Skipjack!” The expression on his face as he heard his words bounce back out of the well was truly priceless, totally full of wonder and amazement. But that expression was soon replaced with an unsure one as he looked back up at Rolyat.

“Hm?” She looked back down at him curiously, a kind smile still on her face.

“So, how do we know when the wishes will come true?” Rolyat quietly hummed back in response, Grim was far from being a child, at least she thought so, so of course he would question such a silly method of echoed words granting wishes. She tapped her chin in thought before smiling back down at him.

“Well we might just have to wait and see, wishes take time after all, but if we’re patient then hopefully they’ll come true.” She gently patted his head, and this seemed like enough of an answer as he simply grinned back in response.

“Well common! Let’s wish some more so they’ll definitely come true!” He shot back up, fully determined now to make his wish come true as he peered down into the wishing well with absolute focus.

“Haha, alright alright” Rolyat couldn’t help but laugh and agree, singing a few notes into the well and hearing them echo back along with Grim’s own singing. And even if he were off key, she did her best to harmonize with his voice.

As they sang though, a passersby who had been quietly walking through the courtyard, almost sneaking in a way, stopped at the sounds of a gentle singing voice. He was curious to be sure, not simply by the fact that someone was singing, but by the fact it sounded like a girl's voice in an environment he knew very well to be an all boy’s zone.

Carefully he made his way to the source, seeing a figure standing by the well, he smiled as he made his way over. Hearing what he could only assume was the song coming to its end, he decided to make his grand appearance. Rolyat continued to peer into the well, singing the last few words of the song as she watched her reflection in the water below.

“I’m wishing~ for the one I love, to find me~ today~” Rolyat sung.

‘Today~!” Suddenly another voice sang along with her as a new face appeared next to her in the water, causing both she and grim to yelp in surprise.

“Oh-!”

“Fynaa!” Grim toppled over in shock at the sudden voice that appeared, his body falling off the rim of the well and onto the ground. Rolyat seemed just as surprised, glancing down to where Grim had toppled over but had her focus mainly fixated on the stranger that had suddenly appeared.

“Oh I’m awfully sorry, did I frighten you? I didn’t mean to” The young man smiled apologetically, taking off his black sailor cap as he held it close to his chest. He tilted his head curiously as he waited for a response, but Rolyat simply stared back at him in quiet shock.

His appearance was awfully cute, if not a little handsome, with short black hair and brown caramel eyes. Though with the soft appearance of his face, it made his tall stature all the more alarming. He looked almost around Trey’s height if she had to guess, or perhaps a little shorter?

Though it was at this point that she realized that she had probably been staring at his appearance for too long that she forgot to say anything. She felt her face become slightly warm, trying to glance away but she could still feel the boy’s gaze on her, she knew she would have to say something soon.

“O-Oh um, you sort of did yes- but, oh it wasn’t that, it’s just that you’re a- uh-” She seemed to grow perplexed the longer she stared at him before finally finding her words. “-A stranger.”

“A stranger?” The boy blinked his eyes in surprise.

“Mhm” She nodded, shyly humming out a small simple response.

It had been such a long while since anyone could look at his face and call him a ‘stranger.’ Did this girl really not know who he was? But he could see so obviously on her darling little face that there wasn’t a single ounce of a clue. That she truly did not recognize him as Neige Leblanche.

Perhaps it helped that he wasn’t wearing his school’s bright white coat, but instead a simple navy blue pea coat, but her obliviousness brought a bright smile on his face. Thinking to himself that perhaps to today he could play the role of ‘a simple stranger.’

“Ah I see, I’m really sorry for scaring you, I just heard such a pretty voice that I wanted to see who it belonged to.” Neige put on his best princely smile, tilting his head to place his cap back on his head. When he looked back up his eye caught her as her cheeks looked more pink.

“O-Oh I, I see.” She seemed to fidget in place, glancing away from him and trying to look off in some far off direction. He continued to smile though, seeing such a genuine pure reaction out of someone like this was really peculiar. Grim however seemed to watch warily from behind the well, seeing as the boy hadn’t noticed him yet as he had his attention solely on his dorm leader, but there was something about this guy that was rubbing him the wrong way.

“Ah- I see I’ve forgotten to introduce myself, pardon my rudeness but I’m a representative from RSA, I came to see how preparations for the VDC were coming along and seem to have lost my way, haha, I was looking for the gymnasium?” He gave an awkward laugh and an apologetic smile, watching her expression go from shy to surprised at the mere name of his school. White lie’s weren’t all that bad

“Oh- RSA? I see, uhm, right now they’re having a lesson so it might not be best to go in there right now..but I can show you where the teachers office is if you’d like.” She knew full well how the students of Night Raven thought of anyone from Royal Sword Academy, and she knew if she told his boy where to go he might get ripped to shreds for sure, so showing him to where the staff was would be far more safer to him.

“I see, I see, how kind of you!” He smiled, placing a hand on his chest as he sighed with relief Rolyat simply smiled and nodded in response.  ‘Ah what a cute smile too’ Neige thought, but he sensed the coming silence might become awkward so he was quick to say something to keep the conversation going. Putting on an act, he stared at her curiously and leaned in as though he were examining her features. This sudden change made her blink back with confusion as she tilted her head, but he quickly leaned back and lightly pointed at her.

“Oh I see! So you must be the ‘flower in the den of thorns’!” His smile became brighter, seeming proud as if he had solved a mystery.

“P-Pardon?” Rolyat tilted her head at his sudden declaration, the flower in the den of thorns? Did he mean her?

“Ah- Haha sorry, that’s just the nickname some students at RSA have given you is all, you’re actually quite the topic of conversation at my school” He chuckled, hand on his chin as he thought about it. “We didn’t know your name, but given your situation, many of us viewed it like it was like a delicate flower in a den of dangerous prickly thorns.” He glanced back again to see her tilt her head in confusion, like she was still having a hard time processing the situation.

‘People at RSA...talk about me?’ She couldn’t help but feel that it was strange, how did people from that other school even know about her? Maybe it was all those times she ended up having her photo taken, or even perhaps..Chenya? He was the only other person she had meant from RSA so that seemed to be the only logical thing to explain it.

“Oh my- speaking of names, I don’t think I’ve asked you for yours yet have I? My apologies” Now it was his turn to tilt his head, giving her a worried smile like he had made a mistake, but she simply looked flustered as she waved her hands at him. Everytime he smiled she felt something flutter in her chest, perhaps it was his appearance or how kind he was but it almost felt as though she were talking to a fairytale prince.

“N-No no it’s fine! Uhm, my name is-”

“Ooi! Rolyat!” A sudden voice in the distance called out to her, turning her head she could see both Ace and Deuce jogging over to them, but they were still a bit far away.

Neige however felt his eye twitch in annoyance as he kept his smile up, oh dear, there were always people showing up just to get in the way wasn’t there? Even when he had just found someone so interesting, but oh well, he could deal with this for now.

“‘Rolyat’ huh? Well that’s quite the pretty name” Not like he had ever heard that name before or knew what it meant, but it got her attention back on him and got him just the reaction he wanted out of her as her cheeks dusted pink. “Well you can call me..hm '' Neige thought about it for a moment, he didn’t want to out himself as the ‘Neige Leblanche’ so soon, he was having far too much fun as a ‘mysterious stranger.’

“You can just call me ‘Snow’” He smiled, gently taking her hand in his and planting a delicate kiss on her knuckles, causing her whole face to blush a cherry red as she was rendered speechless. “Haha, I hope we get to meet again dear Rolyat” and with that Neige let go, waving goodbye to her as he walked away and behind the pillars of the courtyard, completely out of sight.

Grim sighed, jumping back onto the rim of the well, he crossed his arms as he stared off in the direction where ‘Snow’ left. “Geez that guy sure was weird huh Roly? Eh- Roly?” Grim turned to look at his dorm leader who seemed completely dazed, not even the sounds of Ace and Deuce panting and walking behind her even caught her attention.

“Haa, there you are, seriously, you can ever stay in one place can you?” Ace sighed, hunching over with his hands on his knees in exhaustion after having looked around nearly the whole campus to find her.

“Huh? Rolyat are you okay?” Deuce asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, surprising her with the sudden touch she looked surprised at Deuce.

“E-Eh?” She blinked back at him, totally unaware of what kind of look she had on her.

Ace stood back up as he walked around to see her face, nodding in agreement with Deuce. “Yeah, you're not sick or something are you? Your face is as red as one of Riddle’s tarts” Ace snicked, poking at her cheek in a joking manner.

When she realized just what they were talking about she felt her face grow warmer with embarrassment, turning around and shaking her head as not to look at them. “I-It’s nothing! Let’s just go!” Flustered she began walking off in the direction they came from, causing Ace and Deuce to look at each other in confusion as they simply shrugged their shoulders.

“Grim? Did something happen with Rolyat?” Deuce looked to Grim who had a bothered expression on his face, but Grim just sighed as he jumped onto Ace and hung onto his shoulders.

“Hrmm well, honestly I don’t even know what happened, she just ran into a really weird dude I guess” Grim grumbled. It wasn’t like he had been fully paying attention to whatever she and that guy were saying, he was too bothered by the strange vibe the guy was giving off in the first place.

“Huh? A weird guy? Did he do something to her?” Deuce seemed alarmed, his energy totally starting to shift into his delinquent side at the idea that someone had been messing with their friend. Grim even felt Ace’s energy spike up in alarm as the boy squinted his eyes, but Grim shook his head which got them to calm down a little.

“No, no, gosh calm down you two, I’ll you about it later but if we don’t leave now you two are going to lose sight of her again” Grim pointed out, the duo turning to see that Rolyat was nearly out of sight, causing them to jump in alarm as they began running to catch up with her.

Meanwhile

“Ufufu, how interesting, how very interesting indeed.” Rook, who had seen the whole interaction between Neige Leblanche and the delicate Fleurette, his little nickname for ‘miss Rolyat’, chuckled as he watched the group of first year’s leave the courtyard. It was not like he had been purprosely spying on them in the first place, it was all happenstance, just a simple beautiful coincidence that he had been resting in a tree in the courtyard and heard the girl’s singing voice which in turn drew in his dorm leader’s rival.

Rook hopped down from the tree, dusting off his uniform as he looked around the area before feeling a pair of eyes watching him. He looked up towards a window and smiled, as though blissfully unaware of the expression they wore, at the sight of Vil who was glaring down at him.

Vil’s angered expression glanced to watch the troublesome troupe of potatoes leave before he focused his attention solely on his vice dorm head. He knew Rook had surely heard all that had transpired down by the well, and he knew he would likely have to interrogate Rook about the matter. Vil was sure Rook would ask him some ridiculous question, maybe even throwing the word ‘jealousy’ in there.

No he was not ‘jealous’, what an ugly word. He was not jealous over that distasteful scene of affection he had witnessed from high above, he was not jealous at how that snow white brat just waltzed in and charmed that oblivious potato and even went as far as to kiss her hand.

No he was angered by the mere fact that his rival had the gaul to show up to his school, on his territory, unannounced like that, and just walked around like he owned the place, like he already won. ‘How repulsive, so utterly ugly and repulsive’ Vil’s thoughts swirled with utter disdain.

He turned away from the window, making his way down the hallway with an expression that made others feel as though hell had erupted. He was Vil Schoenheit, he was far above such childish and unsightly feelings like jealousy. But just even recalling the sight of her smiling so brightly at his rival had him grit his teeth in irritation.

“To think I’d allow myself to become so frustrated over something so ridiculous” He huffed, storming down the hallway and not paying any other student and heed.

“Ah, hi Vil-! E-Eh?” Think of the devil and they shall appear, the moment he heard her voice and caught sight of her oblivious sime did he force himself not to look at her, the irritating thumping in his chest grew louder, only continuing down the hallway and leaving the first years confused.

“Haah? What’s his deal?” Ace muttered on his breath as he raised an eyebrow, his eyes staring off in the direction that the Pomfiore leader had stomped off to.

“I’m not sure, but I hope whatever it is that’s put Vil in a bad mood won’t have any effect on our dance practice” Deuce sighed back, still feeling the soreness in his shoulders and calves.  

“I wonder if something bad happened..he looked really mad” Rolyat stared worriedly at Vil’s back the further he went down the hallway. Her friends just shrugged it off and ushered her to hurry on down the hallway.

Nodding she followed them, not even noticing that the moment she turned around Vil stopped in his tracks to glance back at her fleeting form. He felt that bothersome feeling in his chest but quickly shook his head in disgust and stalked off, muttering under his breath.

“Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.”

[my-writings-and-musings]

This is the medic berth sharing anon, and I forgot to add, what if when talking to a bot(not necessarily a medic), the conversation some how drifted to where the human just casually mentions that professional cuddling is A Thing, and what would the reactions be?

I've got a lot here as a follow up because once again, your ideas inspire me anon! Prepare for a wall of text!

Rodimus

·He's not necessarily surprised, because your species is so incredibly soft, why not have humans who specialize in using that talent? But he's still never considered it before, and is curious as to how one becomes a "proffesional" at something so basic, and what kind of training it could possibly entail.

·Hearing that it's more for humans who have endured trauma, or humans who come from cultures or backgrounds where such contact is frowned upon, makes him a little sad. He's an affectionate bot and can't imagine not having access to something so simple, but then realizes their own species could perhaps do with some physical affection based therapy, not that he feels qualified to suggest such a thing...

Drift

·After a brief request for more information he's delighted by the sound of the practice, even if he doesn't have all the details. Creating harmony through positive energy and healing through affection is a personal ideal of his, and to hear another species practicing it is quite uplifting!

·It's unfortunate it isn't widely practiced, but the mere fact it exists is enough to give him some inspiration, so he asks for as many facts as you can give. With a bit of planning he absolutely intends to pursue this for Cybertronians, even if by just bringing it up as a proposal, and hopefully Ratchet will be willing to give it a chance!

Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus

·Initially he needs you to repeat yourself and explain in more depth, because he's certain he heard you wrong. How can one do something so common "professionally"? It takes a fair amount of conversation and a lot of context for him to understand the therapeutic aspect, which he begins to see once you also lay out what a social species humans are and how damaging solitude can be.

·The idea of healing through affectionate contact is something he can grasp, at least. Cybertronians aren't so different, though many such needs have long been neglected, and he is doubtful it could catch on until a significant amount of restoration is done. He'd be interested in seeing it happen, and can see how it would benefit a war ravaged population, provided there is proper licencing for those who wish to pursue it.

Ratchet

·He's immediately intrigued, but not at all surprised, and discusses the similarities such a practice reveals between humans and Cybertronians. As imposing as bots may be, they're still a social species, and a lack of physical affection can do great harm. Also like humans, bots tend to be unaware of the depth of the need until they're suffering.

·Talking about it really gets him thinking. They've neglected a lot to win the war, and now that they're here, needs like this should come back into focus. It would certainly be worth it to encourage such things where he can, even if bots don't understand or believe in the benefits. They may not have proffesional cuddlers, but this ship is undoubtedly bursting with lonely bots who'd be willing to give it a try.

Rung

·As a kind of therapy, it's entirely new to him, but the benefits are exceptionally clear even before you elaborate. Bots are a caring and tender species under all that armor, despite the image the war has created, so he can see that humans would find solace in such a thing due to their similarities. Being a proponent of slow and measured healing also makes the idea quite agreeable.

·He discusses the possible changes one would have to make for Cybertronians, which would probably be somewhat significant due to their differences in size, anatomy, and cultural practices. The basic idea could still stay though, especially for the many traumatized not just by battle, but by the shortage of tender intimacy the war created in its stead. He'll absolutely write a paper on this, and he actually feels it's worth publishing! Should you suggest he'd be a natural at providing such care he will blush for a multitude of reasons.

Swerve

·He keeps it to himself, but his first emotion is one of absolute longing. Someone to just hold you, and comfort you, with the skill of a therapist but the gentle embrace of a friend? He plays it off like he sees it as another quirky human thing, but he subtly prods for more information under the veneer of casual conversation, and starts wishing his own kind had an equivalent.

·As much as he'd prefer having someone who just wants to be with him like that as a friend, the idea of a proffesional is still tempting beyond belief, and he wonders if the increased interaction between your species might make some bots pick up the trade. Just enjoying the simple, uninterrupted company of another for a bit would be heavenly, but he's absolutely not willing to say that out loud.

Skids

·Knowing that slow and steady therapy works, he can definitely see that being helpful, even if he doubts he'd ever get anything out of something like that. He likes to move and have fun when he socializes, and sitting still with someone would probably just end in a nap for him, not that he minds the idea of that too much...

·One thing he is curious about is the statistics of the occupation, as baffling as they may be. Why are the proffesionals mostly female and the clients mostly male? Don't humans, like bots, long for affection no matter their physical makeup? An explanation of stereotypes and gender roles and everything involved on that front just makes him think he needs a drink.

Whirl

·Of course he cracks a few jokes about tiny squishy humans needing to be mushed, but it's in good humor, because he actually gets it pretty much right away. The whole idea is a sappy one, but all of therapy is sappy, and you can thank brains for being so darn easy to trick up with feelings for that little design flaw.

·He explains that the biggest part of you to hurt when someone screws you over is your sense of trust, so something that makes you be super vulnerable is obviously the way to fix it, at least for some. After emphasizing how he'd never benefit from such a thing, he posits that cuddling is potentially the most dangerous thing you can do, making folks willing to try it on thr regular with strangers pretty damn brave. His logic on the ease of stabbing while snuggling is not one you can argue.

Chromedome

·Fully aware of the chaos life can bring, he immediately gets why someone would want a little time to relax with someone calm, even if it's more of a clinical session than a platonic bonding. Admittedly the lack of concrete guidelines does worry him a little once he hears the qualifications are rather loose, but is anything perfect?

·Being a bot who fully gets how desperate a suffering individual will go, he can't help but consider what a benefit such simple pain relief could be, but also mourns for those who don't have access to something so... basic. Suffice to say he gets ample cuddling, and knows full well how precious every moment is.

Rewind

·Being so focused on memory has taught him the emotional impact even a little encounter can have, so he isn't at all surprised some species would have learned to utilize this, only that his own hasn't. Being such a varied and armored species can make any intimacy difficult, but that hardly means they're strangers to snuggling after all.

·The thought of such loneliness can't help but make him a little sad, especially when he learns many of the humans seeking out this service are in relationships. Not a day goes by for him without hand holding or hugs or nuzzles... He hopes your species makes this more common as therapy for their own sake.

Cyclonus

·Initially he's a bit bewildered, though many aspects of earth culture bewilder him, and further discussion does little to help him grasp the concept or its benefits. It seems silly and, at least internally, he can't help but perceive it as inappropriate. It isn't until you elaborate on why humans seek this service out that he begins to get some clarity.

·Hearing about how many human cultures frown on caring contact in virtually any situation, even between partners, is a little alarming. He knows the struggle of expressing emotions after even allowing yourself to feel them, but to be so caged by tradition that one needs secret contact with a proffesional for a taste of warmth or companionship... well, that's unfortunate.

Tailgate

·Immediately you see him perk up, as if the mere mention of cuddling catches his attention. He asks lots of questions, some on the proffesion and others on the ways humans express care, and while saddened that the job is needed he's happy that help is there for those who need it.

·You're then given an enthusiastic but confidential talk on how he's finally getting all the hugs he needs with Cyclonus, who will never admit it but he's certain is benefiting from the cuddling as much as he is. While not aware of the six million years he was out, it's felt as if his body is, and thus he's been eagerly catching up with loving snuggles whenever possible. Speaking of which, want a hug?

Velocity

·She's not at all caught off guard by the idea, as it makes a lot of sense for the sake of mental health, especially to a doctor of a species that could use the practice. While Caminus has been spared the war between factions, it's unfortunately not a haven for emotional wellbeing either. The need to stand out and meet cultural requirements of frugality forces many to be just as reserved with their needs as the humans seeking out help that you describe.

·She wonders if it'd be possible to introduce something like that to her own people, if not on Cybertron. But there's a lot of cultural resistance, just as she's sure you've seen on earth, to taking care of oneself even for such a basic need. She expresses respect for humans on actually taking the steps to improve.

Nautica

·As with all new things, she's immediately interested in learning the full depth of the subject, both inside and out. If you don't know it all that's okay! She can just plough through a few books and then she'll feel like she's got it down! This means she wants to know about human therapy, affection, cultural hindrances, the neurochemtistry of physical contact... Anything you know to start on these subjects would be helpful.

·Before and after her quick study break, her biggest takeaway is the huge taboo humans have placed on touching, something she can barely wrap her head around. Sure, bots have unnecessary hangups as well, but casual taction just... happens? Why would any culture have issues with that? Even as someone who occasionally trips up and crosses physical boundaries, she knows that space is important, but it's not meant to be a barrier. You'll let her know if you need a break from what sounds like an exhausting mindset, won't you? She's always here for a quick hug or even just a shoulder pat!

Megatron

·All talk of human culture once made him cringe, not out of disgust, but out of an admittedly deserved guilt. With you he's at least opening up to conversation on the topic, and this is one of the things he needs a bit of elaboration on, as his bafflement is so great you can see it on his face. His experience with physical affection being nonexistent doesn't make it any easier for him to follow.

·When you mention the concept of being "touch starved" he finally gets it, but has a less than thrilling realization himself. He's never heard a word describe his deeply buried longing so effectively, and your talk of earth culture occasionally stifling people to the point of needing these services strikes a nerve he hadn't known was so tender. As with every other vulnerability in his life, he buries it down and secures the weakness firmly away, keeping his expression neutral as he pretends the topic is just another curiosity.

[lnarizakis]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧COACHES DON’T PLAY

THE JOURNAL OF A FORMER AUTHOR: PAGE 002

HOT OFF THE PRESS ! Is this not what you’re looking for? Please view the masterlist [here]!

EXTRA ! miya osamu x fem! reader. 1.2k words. original characters.

“Hey, (Y/N)-chan. It’s been a while. How’re you?” 

She held her breath, not realizing the lessened formality of their relationship. Letting out her breath little by little, (Y/N) took her time with what she wanted to say. 

It was a little too long, however, when her cousin spoke after a minute of silence. “Hello? Are you still there?”

Hastily she replied, “Yeah! Yeah, I am. I’m… okay. How are you?”

From the other end came a slight chuckle. “So am I. How’s the dating column coming along?” (Y/N) pursed her lips, and her heart beat quicker, nervous that the previous Dating-san, her cousin, was asking her about such matters. 

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about tonight,” she ended up saying. 

“Oh? What’s wrong?” 

“I… got kicked. From the club. ‘Cause my editor spread a false rumor about me. And now my entire reputation as Dating-san, and as a person in general, really, is pretty much down the drain,” she told him. She was genuinely surprised that not only her cousin had managed to stay silent throughout the entire explanation, but also how she had more to say. 

“And I feel like such a terrible person now, too. ‘Cause of both the newspaper column, that I couldn’t do my own job and be actually responsible, and that I ruined one of the relationships that I helped build.” Silence came from the other end. Again, a wave of nervousness rushed over (Y/N) and shook her; what loomed over her next was the intimidation she felt whenever she talked with her cousin, Dating-san. 

When her cousin began talking, she stiffened, despite being wrapped up in the comforts of her bed. “I see. Well, I’ll start off by saying congrats for working well enough to help build a relationship; I’ll give you that. Next, I see where you’re coming from. I’m really sorry that you had to go through this; there’s definitely some corruption in this organization. I’ll talk to Aki-san for you if you’d like. 

“You really don’t have to--”

“No, please. Let me. It’s the least I can do for my favorite cousin. Is there any particular reason why you’re on bad terms with your editor?” 

(Y/N) didn’t even have to think about the answer. “Yeah: I like her boyfriend. Or, well, ex-boyfriend.” 

Her cousin gave a good laugh, and (Y/N) felt herself smiling to his contagious laughter. “Oh, (Y/N). You really… let your crush go just for the sake of your job, huh? You’re too generous, I swear.” Laughing in between your words, you told him that you had to; it was your responsibility. 

After a few minutes of letting out a good laugh mixed with the undertones of a sob, (Y/N)’s cousin silenced her with his next string of advice for her. “(Y/N), I know how seriously you take, or took, I guess, this job and, honestly, I’m very proud of you for that. I remember you were so excited to take up the responsibility once I graduated, and your excitement spread to me, too. 

“But, you see, this job as a writer does not define who you are, got that? You are so much more than what you’re known as at school. You’re someone who’s hardworking and passionate with everything they do. You’re a lover and a hater. You’re emotional. You’re friendly; you can get along with anyone. (Y/N), I don’t know you as Dating-san, but as my cousin. I know you as (Y/N).

“And, lastly, do not feel bad that your editor spread a terrible rumor about you. She’s going to get what she deserves soon enough. I really don’t blame you for being selfish. Sometimes we as dating coaches gotta feel something, too, you know? I don’t think I ever told you, but last year I actually got with my crush because I was selfish. ‘Cause, of course, coaches don’t play, but they gotta step on the court some day.”

There was a strange feeling that washed over (Y/N) with those last words. She opened her mouth to thank her cousin, but before she could even say anything, he told her, “I do not regret making you the next Dating-san at all, (Y/N). You amaze me every day, even if you think you’re the worst person in the world. You will never be that kind of person to me.”

Even though she knew he couldn’t see her, (Y/N) mouthed a “thank you,” and hung up. She stayed underneath the blankets of her bed for a while before she hopped up to freshen up herself in her bathroom. Slowly she learned that being kicked off the newspaper club wasn’t a bad thing; in fact, she saw it as a way for herself to grow. 

When she came back, her phone buzzed with one single notification from her cousin. It was a text message. She smiled warmly at the message. 

[10:41 pm] don’t forget that if you’re troubled by all of this because of the guy you like, go for the guy! have no regrets. follow what you want to do instead of what others tell you to do. coaches can play, too!

Setting her phone down next to her on the desk, (Y/N) opened up her notebook to let out her thoughts. 

So this is the journal of a former author. It feels much more therapeutic to handwrite than to type, though it hurts a little more to write. 

What do I want to say, exactly? Maybe it’s that I am conflicted between regretting falling for Osamu and thinking that falling for him was a good thing. If I never fell for him I wouldn’t be in this mess. However, thinking about it, if I never fell for him I wouldn’t have had that really good talk with my cousin. 

Ultimately, I wish I never liked him. 

But then again, he’s picked me up on days I’ve felt so down… and he’s good company. Maybe we’re better off as friends. I don’t think he was right for Asai. I thought he would change her, but in the end, she remained the same. She treated Osamu like a pet and made him bow down to her. 

I’m sorry, Osamu. I wish I never advised you to date Asai. My fear of her caused me to write what she wanted to see, not what you wanted to see. Though, you’re okay with anything, and that’s what kinda drew me to you, I guess. You were okay with being my friend, and you genuinely enjoy my company, even if you don’t really show it. I enjoy your company, too. 

I just wish I could tell you how I feel. Asai probably has, though. Or maybe she hasn’t. Who knows? I don’t know what I’d do if I told you that I liked you. I’d run away and hide. Never show my face to you again. Would you come try and find me? 

I should stop being so indecisive. Here are my thoughts, loud and clear: I like Osamu. I regret writing down what Asai wanted to read, not what Osamu wanted. I will never regret knowing Osamu, befriending him, and falling for him. 

I will never regret taking up the role as Dating-san, because if I’m part of the newspaper club or not, I will always be Dating-san to Inarizaki High.

taglist: send an ask to be added ! [ @lcaita​ @reogou​ @alienvarmint​ @annalyn-annalyn​ @kunimwuah​ @akaarin @wansseul​ @anime-simp​ @dorkyama​ @keiyoomi​ @studywoo​ @steggy4ever​ @wheelzzzies @kaoyuuuuu​ @sadakaashistan @waitforitillwritemywayout​ ]

[dismuch47]

STARTING POINT

Length: Longer than a drabble, but a one shot with no intention of continuing.

Marvel AU in which Vision (I’m calling him Paul) is the illegitimate child of Howard Stark. There are tensions between half-brothers, and this is the first time that they actually talk about something other than the strange family situation. And it happens to be about... a girl. I hope you enjoy.

This has been moved over from my deactivated blog, so no, this is not stolen if you recognize it.

“’Sup, nerd?” Tony let the door slam itself shut after flinging it open in a grand flourish. He flung his bag of dirty laundry on the mahogany dining table, let his leather jacket fall to the immaculately clean floor in a heap, and then trotted over to the kitchen fridge to excavate.

Paul shifted out of his cross-legged, curved shoulder posture (his studying posture) and sat up in a rigid manner. He placed his book on the cushion beside him, his lips in a thin line.

“Hilarious...considering your field of study in Quantum Mechanics and Theory, Anthony.” Paul called out for the other youth to hear. It wasn’t in his nature to give jabs to other people... but ever since Mr. Stark... or rather Paul’s biological father... had acknowledged the existence of a bastard son in England and the illegitimate child had been included into the multi-billionaire’s home at Mrs. Stark’s request... Paul had tried to rise to the challenge in order to “bond” with the golden son, Tony Stark. Apparently he only responded to sarcasm, rather than sincere attempts of friendship that Paul preferred.

Tony peeked his face from around the kitchen door, tilting the aviator sunglasses down from his face. “I study it, I don’t wear it. What is that, an argyle sweater vest?” His face disappeared once more as he grabbed one of his father’s choice beers from the fridge, closing the door shut with his hip.

“Mrs. Stark likes it...” Paul looked down placing a hand on the sweater vest. He didn’t dislike it... but he didn’t care for it. But anything was better then the second-hand clothing that was always too small for him back at the London shelter. And if it helped the mistress of this home approve of a bastard child more...

“Your mother will disapprove if she sees that rubbish on the dining table.” Paul warned his older half brother. He picked up his thick book and began reading again. “Why you insist on bringing that home when you can just-”

“Carmen. CARMEN will ‘disapprove’. I don’t think mother has done laundry or set a dinning table since her college days...” He slumped down in a white wing-backed chair across from the couch, separated by a glass coffee table. “Besides it’s all apart of the collegiate experience: announcing my arrival home with proof of my hard work and stank of my sheer brilliance.”

“Anthony, your father-”

“For the last time, it’s TONY.” He took off his sunglasses, his dark eyes like daggers at this blonde intruder of his home. He didn’t dislike Paul... he disliked how different Paul looked, sounded, and talked... forever reminding everyone in the household of his father’s infidelity. Of his mother’s pain... and tragic kindness for wanting this person to be part of the Stark family. The dark moment passed and Tony tossed his glasses carelessly to the glass table.

“...And dad can just deal with the mess.”

Paul’s blue eyes were cast downward, trying to resume his reading... recognizing the subtext of that wording, but Tony turned on the television to an outrageous volume, swallowed and sighed loudly over his beer.

“Tony-”

“Little brother, PLEASE.” Tony cut in. “Your bro is nursing a hangover at the moment.” He took another swig of beer. “Do you mind?”

There was no warmth in the word ‘brother’; it seemed more like a reminder that Paul was an outsider that Tony had to put up with. The lanky teenager began to slowly pack up his schoolwork, not feeling particularly welcome in the space...

Tony blinked darkly at the screen; images and colors barely managing to distract him from his mood... and guilt. He was mad at his father... not the accidental child resulting from unprotected sex. His brown eyes darted over to Paul, who was quietly collecting his things to leave.

“What are you reading?” Tony asked, monotone.

Paul blinked in surprise, then looked down at the book in his hand. “A Tale of Two Cities.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “This is why you are a nerd...”

“It is a school requirement.”

“Is it your first time reading it?” Tony raised a dark brow. “Or is it your 3rd or 4th time?”

Paul shut his mouth. It was his 5th. He couldn’t explain how it was that he was able to read so fast, or find a book so compelling upon a 5th or 6th reading. He traced his long fingers across the dog-eared pages.

“At the shelter, all I had was books. I...I like to revisit them...” He couldn’t meet the Stark’s brown eyes. “Like how Mrs. Stark likes to watch old movies over and over...she says they are ‘old friends’ that never change, but grow more enriching with each viewing.”

Tony looked down at the beer in his hand. That did sound like something his mother would say. He recalled her telling that to him. He also felt super awesome for reminding Paul about his life of poverty... which was still fresh. Tony turned off the tv.

“Fine. Books are the exception.” He finally looked over at Paul. “But you have GOT to get out of that gaming stuff if you ever want to get laid, Goggles.”

“Vision.”Paul corrected, a little too hastily. His hands held on to the book a little tighter. “It is live action role-play-”

“Oh my god, I can’t tell you how much I don’t care-”

“-And it is very therapeutic. It helps me get out the frustrations of being in a new home environment, learning American customs... feeling so different. According to Dr. Cho.” Paul defended, blossoming as he talked about this passion of his. “Vision is not just a character... he is an extension of my subconscious; trying to sort out and deal with my very average conflicts.”

“Yeah, that’s the ah...mutant...god... robot thing?” Tony asked, with a belch. Pretending to care was starting to give him a headache.

“Synthezoid.” Paul added.

“Right... with the magical jewel stone for... ultimate power?” Tony yawned

“Mind Stone.” Paul began realizing how stupid this all sounded. Tony had been present at the therapy session when Dr. Cho had explained how this experimental role play with peers might be good for Paul.

“Fascinating. I think I need to go whiz now.” Tony got up from his chair, setting the empty beer bottle, with out a coaster, on the glass table. “Well have fun with that sausage fest.”

“There are girls.” Paul blurted. “...A girl... there is one girl who does it too.”

Tony backed up, a bemused expression at Paul’s outburst. “I’m sure she’s a looker... geeking it up with the oily skinned, pimple-marked-”

“She is beautiful.” Paul’s tone took Tony aback; it sounded stoney firm and  indisputable. And Tony couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit emasculated with his younger half brother now towering above him.

“Prove it.” Tony beckoned.

Paul narrowed his eyes down Tony Stark, feeling it trivial to prove his truth... as if his best friend was some prized stock animal to be appraised. Tony didn’t deserve to gaze upon real beauty... but Paul was a teenage boy. And he wanted to make this college tech jock drool.

He sat down, pulling out his phone and searching for a picture of her. Tony plopped down beside him and yanked the phone out of his younger half-brother’s hands. Paul protested, reaching with his long arms, but Tony was athletic and broad. He put Paul in a headlock after a brief struggle, and scrolled through the pictures on the flip phone.

Tony gave a sigh at all the larp pictures... they were in COSTUMES. “Is that face paint? Really, Vision??? Oh my god, you are going to die a virgin...” Then he came across a larper who was entirely too hot to be hanging out with such nerds. “Whoa... whoooaaaa. Is that her?” Tony showed the screen to Paul, who was still gasping for air before pulling out of Tony’s lessening grasp.

“...Yes...” Paul tried to push his hair back into place.

“Name?”

“Scarlet Witch-”

“Her real name, idiot.”

“Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.”

“Russian? Like Natasha... oh what’s her name. You know, she’s a senior this year...”

“Wanda is from Sokovia.”

“Same difference.” Tony shrugged.

“Actually-”

“Which means she probably has one of those dusky european accents.” Tony stood up, looking at more pictures. “Please tell me she has a dusky accent.”

“...Yes.”

“Oh god.” Tony looked at the screen for a beat. “You’re sure she’s only in high school?”

Paul firmly took his phone back.

“Fine... too young for me. And way out of your league.”

Paul looked down at the screen. He knew that was true, but it didn’t hurt less to hear someone say it. “She is just a friend. My only friend.” He held on to the phone for a beat, then closed it. He returned it to his pocket and picked up his book that he had discarded on the table. His shoulders sagged, and the words on the page were blurring together. Completely unreadable.

Tony damned himself when he saw the effect that his teasing had on Paul. The oh so sensitive, yet robotic Paul. “Okay. I’m taking this away.” He took the book out of his half-brother’s hands and sat on the glass table, directly across from the tall teen. “You’re tall, you have a pensively sweet British accent, and some girls like the peach-fuzz stubble look. You just need to stop slouching, and you’d be any girl’s dream boat.”

Paul looked up. “You have said that I’m oafish, awkward, and that my dialect is ‘annoying as hell’.”

“I lied. It’s hard to compete with. I cut you down to make myself feel bigger. Thank you Dr. Cho.” That didn’t seem to make Paul feel better; he seemed to slump even more in his seat, eyes downcast at the floor. “What... what is this? I basically called you pretty and you're being a pooper. What’s  the problem?”

The blonde teen took a deep breath. “Steve Rogers.”

Tony blinked. “The star quarterback? The ruggedly handsome boy next door, class president, and so patriotic that he’s Captain America at all the Sunday Picnics? Sky-blue eyed, chiseled Adonis-bodied Steve Rogers? That Steve Rogers??”

Paul clenched his jaw and looked up at Tony.

“Oh man... good luck with that.” The Stark son gave Paul a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Paul leaned back into the sofa, feeling defeated. He looked up at the ornate crown molding on the ceiling. “She does not talk about him all the time... but she stares at him constantly. She wants to take our roleplaying sessions out by the football field just so he can see her in her costume. She has even invited him to one... and he came. She only stayed by my side because she was too nervous to be alone with him. He smiles at her and I just... I...”

“Wait... so they haven’t hooked up?”

“...I do not believe so.”

“Has he told her he even likes her?”

“Yes... well... he told the group that he likes us and what we do. He’s actually really nice and great in battle, which is an absolute annoyance...”

Tony rolled his eyes. “And have you told her? How you feel about her?”

Paul looked down at Tony. He opened his mouth but closed it. He looked away, trying to find anything else to focus on, but Tony drumming his fingers against the glass table drew his attention.

“If I told her how I felt... and she did not feel the same...”

“Well Vision,” Tony said standing up with a stretch. “Don’t you at least agree it’s a good starting point?” He made his way to the kitchen to throw away his empty bottle.

Paul sat, thinking about all the scenarios in which he could get rejected by Miss Maximoff. But there was one hopeful scenario in which she, in her usual tender way, is caught off-guard. Her eyes would warm and a broad smile would light him on fire inside...as it always did.

“Perhaps.”

[benmcm18]

Group 7 Independent Project!

Pre Production -

This is the second time I’m working with Group 7. It is truly an honour to be surrounded by such talented people. We have learnt from last time and we thought it would be interesting to switch up the roles. Here was what we ended up with:

Director - Jack

Cinematographer - Bonnie

Producer - Heather

Production Design - Ben

Editor - Heather

Writer - Tom

Here were also the tasks we sorted ourselves:

Write a 1-page proposal (synopsis and directors statement) - JACK (13th May)

Make the movie - Jack

Make a plan and a schedule for your work - Heather

Create a mood board (Each character) - Ben

Create a sonic world for the film (no dialogue / no voice-over) - Heather and Ben

Cut together a series of still images or sequences of footage to create a 2min film - Heather

Record some sound effects using objects you have in your room/ house - you can record on your phone. - Heather and Ben

Source and use sound effects and Atmos sound on Freesound. - Tom

Make a storyboard + animatic - Bonnie

Source footage - eg shoot, take stills, source stills, or work with stock footage from Film Supply to envision your idea - Bonnie

Shot list - Bonnie

Scriptwriting and development - Tom

Present it at the crit - receive feedback - Everyone

Write a short critical reflection on your blog. - Everyone

Songs - Everyone

As Production designer I had to create a mood board. We had discussed in meetings what aesthetic we wanted to go for and I believe we ended up with a mixture between films like “Moonrise Kingdom” and “Fight Club”. Either way, these were two of the films I took inspiration from when working on the mood board of the film.

Additionally, I had to think of the costume for both actors. For the man I chose to instead of having major differences in the two separate costumes to instead change them subtly to give a feeling he is still grounded in reality. So that means I added the glasses, changed the tie and gave him a watch to switch up how he looked. The Imagination costume is inspired from Ewan MacGregor’s character in “Big Fish'' we wanted to give him a full blue costume originally but I realised fairly soon that that wasn’t going to happen. So I adapted and decided to use his ties as a means of stating which reality he was in. When he is in the “dream world” he has a very colourful yellow tie but when he returns to his office I believe we went with a black/red tie.

For the woman, I chose to give her a very colourful look. This was purely so she could match the imagination around her. I discussed with Bonnie about possibly putting flowers in her hair but for some reason we couldn’t find anything. In regards to the rest of her costume I gave her shades so that there would be a physical separation between the two. If he can’t make eye contact with her how is he supposed to connect.

Overall, I’m very happy with the costumes and for a first attempt I’m actually quite proud.

Finally, set design. I had recently worked on a project called “Pied” where I had to create a whole set for my actors. That was pretty much my crash course for this independent project. Using the knowledge I can gain from creating that set I tried implementing it into the office workspace and the picnic arrangement. I’m happy with it but it will honestly be down to you to decide if I did a good job. If I could mention any little “fun facts” about what I did here would be a few:

I used a ping-pong table as the walls splitting the workspace

I tried spreading the food along the picnic like a wall that separated the two of them.

There is a jar of pickles in one of the shots. I don’t know who would bring a jar of pickles to a picnic but I thought it would be funny

On the back wall of the office there is a bunch of hidden Easter eggs *HOWEVER* David’s massive head covers them up!

In regards to how the other team members did. We developed the script ideas until we landed on this one. Jack had a great idea about filming some really nice shots of food. We were actually quite a big fan of this idea. I just thought Heather’s idea would allow us to experiment more.

Tom then wrote a (very) detailed script in collaboration with Heather, Bonnie drew a genuinely fantastic storyboard (she is too hard on herself haha) and Jack prepared for the shoot. One issue that presented itself fairly soon was the fact we had two actors on set. However, our Producer (Heather) handled it like a pro and we managed to get the all clear. Overall, a very hardworking start with the promise of Bonnie doing a short animation for the storyboard. (I’m looking forward to hopefully seeing it)

Production -

The shoot day was very fun. We all arrived at 11:30am and we made our way over to the location. Originally, we had planned to film on top of a hill however, things quickly changed and Jack said there was a fantastic path to film on. I was fairly set on the hill idea (As I had imagined the scene being somewhat similar to the UP opening montage) but he said it was a better location and I trust him.

So this is where it got a bit funky. It turns out the location had been converted into a dirt road since the last time Jack had been there. This was a bit demoralising as we had carried a lot of props out but luckily we had seen a location closer to the beach that could possibly work and the rest was history. That very location near the beach ended up where we would film.

With Jack directing and myself on camera we began to make our way through the storyboard Bonnie had devised. I have to be honest there were parts where we deviated from what was on the storyboard: For example, there is a section where he falls over however it didn’t look natural so we thought of another way to film it. This was where I got a bit carried away with VFX. In the long run I’m pretty sure everyone is happy with it but I wasn’t too sure at the time.

Jack did well as a director, he worked well with David and Kady especially when it came to movements of the actors. There isn’t any dialogue in the scenes so it's mainly physical language instead of verbal. My only advice for Jack would be to do a bit more research on the project before going onto the shoot because there were parts of the shoot where actors would ask questions about their character and I wasn’t confident he knew the answer.

In regards to me, I find it very hard to create something someone else envisions because I’m used to directing and filming projects on my own. I definitely think I improved on this project and having the storyboard and detailed script was a big help. I also felt I should have been more prepared as it didn’t look very good in front of the actors with me fiddling around with the camera because I had set it up in the wrong position.

Overall, I think it was a very fun shoot and it went pretty smoothly. You're going to hit speed bumps on the way but I believe Jack and I handled them well.

Oh also, forgot to mention that I had to also record sound and label all the audio and footage for Heather (why do I almost call you Clair XD) It didn’t take as long as I expected and was actually somewhat therapeutic if you can believe haha.

Post-Production -

The post production process has been going well. We have plenty of time until the deadline and we have already got a very solid draft edit so I’m not worried. I just kind of want to get it finished.

First and foremost, Heather has been doing a fantastic job editing the video. She works efficiently, takes feedback on board and seems to me to have a very solid feel on the fundamentals of editing. Looking at the edit now, there are definite issues but nothing that can’t be solved in 10 minutes. It’s clean, fluid and most of all enjoyable to watch. I’m worried without a synopsis people might not get it but I guess you could see it as “up for interpretation” haha!

Before I talk about my role in the Post-Production process, I just want to mention who else is working on the edit as well. Bonnie is planning on adding some very small animations to the edit to give it that feeling of “not-reality” I think this is crucial because without the animation in the shots. When the man defies the laws of physics it will seem really strange. I believe Tom is doing sound, I’ve supplied them with plenty of audio from on set and am free at anytime to get more for them so it will just be down to when it is completed, I have faith that Tom will create something really special with the Sound design as he will probably blend the sound of the surrounding nature with cold office sounds. I’m excited.

Now onto the part I play. I offered to do the VFX for the film and I’m very happy with them. It’s nothing incredibly tedious to create. It’s very basic motion tracking and keyframing but I think using it in small doses works well and with it accompanied by the animation and sound it will take the film to new levels of quality.

I’m just going to talk about the final VFX shot as it was the most challenging (but fun) part to work on. First, I had to figure out how I was going to get the image of Kady onto the wall without printing her because I realised I would be able to match up the shots if I had just zoomed out from an actual image. So I went for a bit of green paper. I motioned tracked it through After Effects and then played with the colour so it matched the scene. I then added an artificial zoom in Premiere and I got the final result. Now, it is not perfect in any means. I wasn’t able to track back any further than I did so the image in the paper actually moves but with the help of Heather and the use of changing aspect ratios I think it really works. I guess we will have to see how people respond.

So that is about everything on the project. I will be back to reflect next month on the finished project. Hopefully it turns out okay. Hopefully, it doesn’t turn into a train wreck. I’m sure it won’t :)

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Ash I think the drabble we all need but didn’t know we needed is Danny and Nate each telling Dr. Rosa about their first time since Bram. (Pre bad arc)

CW: References to noncon/dubcon, therapeutic discussion of the aftermath of prolonged captivity/conditioning/noncon.

TIMELINE: Approximately two months prior to the beginning of the Bad Arc. 

Tagging the Danny crew because this got long and Danny is a delight dumbass in it: @finder-of-rings, @bleeding-demon-teeth, @spiffythespook, @burtlederp, @whumpywhumper, @18-toe-beans, @pumpkinthefangirl, @special-spicy-chicken, @whale-whumps, @swordkallya

Tagging the Danny crew: @finder-of-rings, @bleeding-demon-teeth, @spiffythespook, @burtlederp, @whumpywhumper, @18-toe-beans, @pumpkinthefangirl, @special-spicy-chicken, @whale-whumps, @swordkallya

“Nate, we are at forty-five minutes of our hour,” Dr. Rosa says patiently, leaning over with her arms resting lightly on her open notebook, reading glasses perched at the end of her nose. “There is something you came in here to tell me, and you have spent three-quarters of an hour telling me everything but that thing. What is it?”

Nate shrugs, swallowing hard. She’s right - he really has. He’s talked about Danny’s recent strides forward - but not the one he’s actually here to talk about - like how he walks by himself to the coffeeshop now, ran two miles the other day and came back sweaty and breathing hard but then he ate an entire meal’s worth of food all at once, and it was… it was normal.

He’s talked about his own halting steps - how he has fewer bad days, lately, they’ve finally found the right dosage to mostly even out the swings between feeling okay and feeling unable to move… and he feels more able to push down the inevitable wash of guilt if he sits still for too long. He even told her about how he took Ryan’s car by himself to the grocery store, and bought everything on Danny’s list, and he’s fairly certain no one looked at him twice.

But he hasn’t talked about the thing that he’s been thinking about since, oh, about nine-thirty Wednesday night.

“I, ah…” He swallows again, compulsively, leaning forward himself where he sits on the couch. “I. Um. Wh-what I came to… what I was th-thinking about-… ah.”

His face is burning red, and he tilts his head forward so at least some of his straight black hair can cover it. He rubs at the stubble along his jaw with one hand, closes his eyes, and forces the words out.

“Danny and I, um, h-had… we… sl-slept together. Wednesday n-n-night.”

There’s a pause.

“From your reluctance, may I gather that when you say you slept together, you are not referencing any type of restful unconsciousness?” Dr. Rosa asks, a lilt of teasing in her tone. Only when she jokes does her island accent start to slip back in, a hint of the Caribbean lacing her tongue. 

“Y-Yes I mean. I mean, n-no, I… yes. We, ah-”

“You had sexual intercourse with Daniel.”

“That… that s-s-sounds… so fucking clinical. It wasn’t l-like that.” Careful, and slow - probably the longest amount of foreplay he’d ever done, with constant check-ins and the edge of Danny’s nervousness twining in and around every motion and movement. But Danny had been the one to pull the condom from the side table, and Danny had been the one to hand him the little bottle, and Danny had been the one to say Please, I think I can tonight, I want to. 

Was that taking advantage? Was he taking advantage of how Bram had broken Danny for him? Is that all last night was? It had felt like more, it had felt… so right. 

“I know it wasn’t, Nate, but I am a professional and I don’t usually allow myself the use of, shall we say, colloquial phrasing with my patients. You know…” Dr. Rosa taps her fingers lightly on her notebook and then sits back, smiling. “If you don’t have anything else to do in the next hour, my 11 o’clock canceled and I’d be happy to stay with you and keep discussing this, since we ran so close to the end of our hour before it came up.”

Nate rubs his hand over his eyes. “I d-d-don’t even know if I want to, it just… I just feel like… it s-seems like… I w-worry.”

“Mmmn. What do you worry about?”

“I’m w-w-worried… I’m worried that he’s t-trying to heal faster th-than he really should… for m-me. And that I… t-took advantage of him.”

Dr. Rosa nods, her expression calm and compassionate but a touch solemn. “We’ve hit on this topic before, Nate - your feeling of guilt and responsibility for Daniel and your concern that he is fitting into a mold that your captor made for him rather than his own natural recovery and inclinations. That his role was meant as a kind of companion for you-”

“I mean, that w-w-was one thing,” Nate mutters, without looking up or lowering his hand from his eyes. “

“Was he consenting?”

“I… y-yes, of course.” Danny’s eyes, wide and clear, focused on his. Oh, fuck, please, Nate-… please, n-now, please, in… in me, please-

D-Don’t beg, please, D-Danny, you never have to beg for m-me…

Can I? If, if I want to?

“Was this consent informed and enthusiastic?”

Nate blinks, finally looking back up at her. She smiles at him, relaxing and serene. “Uh… y-yes. Yes. I… I think so, yes. I mean. As s-sure as I can b-be of it… h-he wasn’t… he wasn’t s-s-subtle…”

“What transpired to make you think you were taking advantage of him?” She doesn’t sound judgemental, more… curious. Still compassionate. He’s been coming to see her for most of a year, now, and she probably knows him better than anyone else alive but Danny.

“N-Nothing, I just… how do I know? He… seemed like-… I mean he sounded like he was having… a good time, I just-… How do I kn-know if it’s about me, or if he’s… just r-r-repeating patterns? Doing what I want h-him to do? If he’s doing this because he st-st-still thinks he b-belongs to me, like he did when w-we first came back from C-Canada?”

“Have you asked him?”

“I… don’t w-want to ruin the night for him, if he d-did… but… No. The answer is no. I haven’t asked h-him yet.”

“Perhaps you should try.”

***

Danny has been sitting in the waiting room tapping one foot, slouched in the hard-backed waiting room chair with his legs kicked out in front of him, beat-up old Converse and ancient blue jeans he’d found in a box in his closet, for twenty minutes maybe. The jeans don’t fit anymore unless he belts all the way to the final hole in the belt, but he’s done just that today.

His shoes, his pants, and one of his old band shirts. He feels like himself, as long as he doesn’t look at his scars. He’s brought Dracula with him, dog-eared already and with all the lines he likes best underlined in red ink. He’s rereading the part where Jonathan Harker climbs the castle wall all by himself, thinking about what a brave motherfucker it takes to do something like that, when the receptionist grins at him and tells him Dr. Rosa is ready.

Ryan, sitting next to him, nudges him with one elbow. “Go get ‘em, tiger. I want to flirt with the receptionist.”

“Of course you do.” Danny’s grinning even as he says it. He slaps the book closed, jumps up out of his seat, and heads down the hall with the shy smile already growing on his face. 

“Hello, Mr. Michaelson.” Dr. Rosa greets him at the door and sweeps her arm out. They start every session exactly the same way, comfortable, a routine Danny can trust. “Are we having a Danny day or a Red day?”

“Danny day, one hundred percent,” Danny says brightly, grinning as he drops onto the couch cushion with only the slightest hint of hesitation, only a moment’s glance at the floor where you belong but he didn’t belong there, absolutely not at all. Not after last Wednesday. 

“Wonderful.” Dr. Rosa smiles widely, then - she is as happy for his Danny days as he is. “So, last week we spent quite some time working through some concerns you had-”

“I have something else I want to talk about,” Danny says, pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged on the couch. “Can I, can I talk about something else?” His face begins to burn, a little, and he sees Dr. Rosa note his flush with a twinkle in her eye and an expression of genuine amusement. 

“Absolutely, Danny. You set the pace, in this room. If you need to perhaps have a change of topic, I know that last week went into some difficult spaces for you-”

“No, last week… helped. Last week was good. But, it’s not that-… I want to-… Um.” Danny grins at her, nearly hiding behind his own hands like a child playing hide-and-seek. “I’m going to just say it.”

Dr. Rosa sits calmly in her armchair and opens up her notebook. She seems to be trying, and failing, to hide a smile. “All right then.”

“Um, ah… Nate and I, um, slept together last week.”

Dr. Rosa sits slowly back, but she doesn’t look as surprised as he had expected her to. “We’ve discussed before that you and Mr. Vandrum have been sexually active since three months after your return-”

“Not… not, ugh, I hate that phrase, but… I mean we… we had actual sex. Well, I mean, it’s all sex, I guess. Uh. But I meant the kind I couldn’t… um.” Danny groans. “Please tell me I don’t have to, um, explain the… the logistics of gay guys having-”

“I am a lesbian, Daniel, not ignorant,” Dr. Rosa says with quiet affection, and Danny rewards her with a laugh - bright and sparkling, it’s a hint of the way he used to be. A drop in the nervous hunch of his shoulders. He flashes a wide smile at her, finally dropping his hands.

“Okay, f-fair… fair, um, fair enough. So, so we… so last Wednesday I was… ready. I think our talk on Tuesday really helped me, you know? We, when we talked a little bit about the stuff Abraham would say, afterward, about me, about my, um, my body, I just… I don’t know. It felt… less true, when I left, than it used to feel. And Wednesday night I was, I was brushing my teeth and I thought, um… I thought… I can have sex with Nate and he can’t stop me anymore. And that thought… it felt… it felt really good, Dr. Rosa.”

“You felt fully in control of your choices when it came to your sexual expression,” Dr. Rosa said softly, but she was still smiling. 

“Um… yeah, I just. Yeah.” Danny looks down at his hands, at the scarring tracing up his arms to disappear finally under his T-shirt sleeves. “I don’t… I don’t feel like my body belongs to me, very much. Because it was always his. He used to make me say it, over and over… and last Wednesday, I came out of the bathroom and got into bed with Nate and I just… I just felt like… like my body was mine. One hundred percent totally mine. And I could make my body do whatever I wanted.”

Dr. Rosa nods, waiting. 

There’s a pause before Danny speaks again, smiling shyly down at the floor. “What my body wanted was, um, to… to do that. With him.”

“Have you told him that?” Dr. Rosa asks, quietly, jotting something down on her notebook. Danny can’t quite see what it is, from here.

He frowns. “I… I guess I sort of thought, when I said I wanted to…”

“Communication is an important part of rebuilding relationships after long-term trauma, especially one that so deeply impacted your ability to communicate without feeling constrained and restricted in the first place.” Dr. Rosa was speaking carefully. “I often suggest reliance on a rule of communicating profusely with your partner during a time of rediscovery.”

Danny’s silent for a moment, taking that in, gnawing on his lower lip in thought. He rubs absently at the scar along his jaw, and Dr. Rosa’s eyes move there, but after a moment he drops his hands back into his lap. “So you… think I should tell him, about all the thoughts I had? In the bathroom, before we… um… did that?”

“I am not telling you what to do,” Dr. Rosa reassures him. “Only suggesting that more communication, in instances like this, may be better than leaving anything to inferences and implications.”

Danny nods quickly. “Okay, okay, okay. Um.” He sits slowly back against the couch. Then he grins at her, his face red but his eyes sparkling and bright. “What if I say we did, um, again on Saturday?” He pauses. “And then Monday? I mean, it was him… to me. I c-can’t, still can’t… you know. The other way.”

“Full recovery takes time. I would say I’m very glad that you feel safe, Danny,” Dr. Rosa says, with a soft, warm laugh. “That’s important. And I am delighted that you are taking ownership and agency over your body.”

Danny tilts his head. “Are… are you proud of me?” He asks, shyly. “For, for being able to… to want something, and ask for it, and then just… just, um-… just do what I want?”

She smiles at him, again, and writes another line in the notebook. “Daniel, you’re not here because you want me to be proud of you. That is not the purpose of therapy.”

“No, I know, but I just… I guess… I’m kind of proud of myself? So I wondered if… you know. I should be. I know it’s not… it’s not something to be proud of, normally, but I just…”

She considers, tapping her pen on the page, and then sighs, shaking her head with affectionate good humor. “What matters, Danny, is that you have taken pride in yourself. In something you’ve done. What matters is that you are in a place where you feel proud of yourself.”

He sits back, staring at her, thinking. Then, slowly, Daniel Michaelson’s smile brightens until it nearly fills the room.

“You’re right,” He says, sounding wonder-struck. “You’re right. I’m proud of myself. I wanted something, and I asked for it, and I got it and I had fun. I wasn’t scared. It was my body and it did what I wanted. And… and I’m proud of myself for it.”

“Good.” Dr. Rosa turns to pick up the mug of tea that is steeping on the table next to her armchair, sipping lightly. “Good. Danny, you have every right to take pride in this. I know it was embarrassing to tell me, but I want you to do something for me. Call it therapy homework.”

“Sure. What should I do? Another worksheet?”

“No. I want you to go home, from this appointment-… I assume your brother drove you today?” Danny nods. “Okay. When you go home, today, I want you to sit Nate down, and practice the open communication that we’ve been working on for the past months or so. I want you to tell him what you told me. Assuming you’re comfortable with that.”

“… that we had sex?” Danny blushes. “Uh. He knows.”

“No, Danny.” Dr. Rosa laughs again. “No. I want you to tell him that your body did what you wanted, and that you feel accomplished, in this. That you feel proud.”

She leans over to meet Danny’s eyes. 

“I want you to tell him that it was your body and it did what you wanted.”

“My name is Daniel Michaelson,” Danny murmurs. “And my body belongs to me.”

Dr. Rosa sits back, smiling. 

“Precisely.”

[michael-weinstein]

A Christmas Post

Well, merry Christmas I guess. As an Israeli-Jew, I celebrate Hannukah each winter (it never has a fixed date in the Greogrian calendar) and never celebrated Christmas. That is, I never got a chance, because I'm actually quite interested and curious in American and European celebrations of Christmas. As a child, I was enthralled by "The Nutcracker", and less by the choreography, rather than Tchaikovsky's music. Even though I saw only one performance live so far (and that was when I knew much about it and was slightly older, so it didn't really make an impact on me), I have seen back then 2 productions: a 1977 production of the American Ballet Theater, choreographed by Mikhail Baryshnikov, starring him and Gelsey Kirkland. I must admit I haven't seen that one in a very long while, and I actually don't remember much of it, so I can't really say how much I like it, except that it is quite of a "traditional" Nutcracker so to speak. The music is provided by the National Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Kenneth Schermerhorn, some of the numbers are cut.

Much more memorable is the 1999 production of the Berlin State Ballet. This one, choreographed by Patrice Bart, is one of those "reinterpetations", which entered the opera world by the '70s, if not the '50s (the Wieland Wagner productions at Bayreuth, for example). It's one of those things, which made sense to do only in Berlin (both the company and its building, the State Opera, were part of what was then called East Berlin). This one puts revolution and psychology to the fore, and I will leave the rest to John Phillips from MusicWeb International:

Patrice Bart placed a prologue before the ballet [i.e. after the overture]. Its purpose was to elucidate the story in which Marie was abducted as a young child. Russian revolutionaries had attacked Marie and her aristocratic family and killed her father. The mother survived but went missing, leaving the traumatized little girl to believe that she lives in an imaginary land of ice and snow. She was adopted by the Stahlbaum family, but there she does not feel happy [...] She is not a 'normal' child [...] carefree and happy on Christmas Eve; the trauma will not leave her. This is where the wondrous figure of Drosselmeyer comes into the story. Drosselmeyer knows of Marie’s history. He intends to lead her back to her mother, so he brings the Nutcracker to life and reconciles Marie with her past. [...] [T]he Nutcracker is not a Christmas present from Drosselmeyer but a toy which she has always carried with her since before the abduction. The wooden puppet, whose uniform awakens memories of her father, is the catalyst for Marie’s renewed confrontation with the gruesome event in the dream — therapeutically speaking it is the first step towards becoming aware, towards healing.

Whatever you may think of the concept, it is superbly danced, but I will like to put your attention to the music itself. Most ballet orchestras will usually seem to have the orchestra playing Tchaikovsky's dramatic music (it is dramatic at least in the first act) rather lifeless and mechanical (of which the production mentioned above might be faulty), but this isn't the case if you're having the Staatskapelle Berlin and Daniel Barenboim in the pit. Barenboim seems to accentuate well how the music: a. has really strong connections with the composer's symphonies, and b. how much Tchaikovsky was inspired by Liszt and Wagner, even in what for some people would be seemingly unimportant music. Again to quote Phillips: "[W]e have a superb orchestra [...] playing as if their very lives depended upon it. Even where Barenboim slows the tempo down to suit the choreography, there is a passion and sonority in the playing". Unfortunately, this production is not available online for viewing (apart from a few excerpts from the later parts of the ballet), but you can buy it online.

From here on, I quite liked Nutcracker, and felt always rather disappointed when, looking at the discography at the Tchaikovsky Research website, there were barely any recordings by Austro-German orchestras (I quite like hearing music played by these kinds of orchestras). I apparently had, lying around, the 1998 recording by Valery Gergiev and the Kirov (alias Mariinsky) Orchestra. Listening to a few excerpts now, in retrospect, it seems a bit too fast, or even skating over the surface. But, as with Barenboim, there is honest feeling and passion to the music. Later, I was also given the full score of the ballet (easy to get online, Dover reprint), and it's quite full of markings right now.

In elementary school, some of my friends among the classmates were of Russian origin (more than a million of former Soviet Jews have emigrated during the early '90s), and as a consequence they didn't go to school on 1 January, because of Novy God (it's just like Christmas, only more pagan than Christian. The role of Santa Claus is filled by Grandfather Frost). Yet in recent years, I'm much more interested in - obviously - the German-speaking Christmas traditions. There are some traditional Christmas carols which are originally in German, and I'm going to talk about one of them right now.

My favourite Christmas song is Stille Nacht (Silent Night in English, but I will practically keep referring to the original German title), and it's one of the most famous Christmas songs (Bing Crosby's 1935 rendition is reported to be the fourth best-selling single of all time). My favourite performers are, however, the Vienna Boys' Choir (Wiener Sängerknaben). They recorded Stille Nacht quite of a number of times, as they released many Christmas albums over the years. The 1990 recording includes all of the six stanzas, and can sound quite mundane on repetition, even if you're able to appreciate the German lyrics. Look for some of the shorter recordings, yet this longer one has a particular dark timbre that I like more than the crystal bright one from the other ones.

But it's time to leave the holiday coziness, and shatter it alla Mahler into pieces. The first example is the rendition of Simon and Garfunkel, recorded in 1966, and it's typical of its time. On one channel, the duo sings the carol, while on the other, a news reporter announces the "7 o'clock news", obviously pessimistic and hope-drowning. Even though I'm about to show a way in which this dissonance is - in my opinion - better portrayed, Paul and Artie should not be easily dismissed, and their take on this carol is original and fresh in its own right.

In 1978, Alfred Schnittke wrote his "Stille Nacht", reportedly as a Christmas card to his friend, the violinist Gidon Kremer, for violin and piano. That probably tops all other Christmas cards in irony and hate-of-kitsch, so to speak. This Stille Nacht is full with dissonances, is creepy, cringy and actually makes Christmas sound more as if Halloween didn't yet understand that it was time to go already. Yet there it also makes the piece more humorus. When I played this to my dad for the first time, a few weeks ago, he laughed so hard, that I had to stop in the middle, because I was afraid he will run out of oxygen. He then told me that it was one of the most funny things he has heard in years. So it can be a good Christmas joke, but you do need to put it in some context. Schnittke, a Soviet of Jewish origin, was held in contempt by the Soviet system for being such a "problematic" composer, so to speak. Yet there is also not only light to be shed on the personal, but also the historic. When Kremer and his pianist wife Elena (currently Barenboim's wife) premiered the piece in Austria, it caused a scandal. By 1978 Austria, as well as Germany, were tainted by the years and crimes of Nazism, and after the catastrophe of two world wars, with the threat of a third, it didn't seem that anyone - either in Austria or Germany or anywhere else, for that matter - could believe - willingly or otherwise - that the idyll offered by "Stille Nacht" could become reality. A "Stille Nacht" for our time perhaps? Not a single one, as mentioned above, but in my opinion the main one. Gidon and Elena Kremer, shortly after the premiere recorded the piece. Schnittke, however, revised the piece a bit later. This is presented with a score in a performance by Mateja Marinkovic and Linn Hendry. Yet the former recording makes more of the irony and dark humor, inherent in the piece.

So, as this day comes to a close, try to enjoy or chill for your last moments of the last Christmas of the decade.

(Originally posted: 25 December 2019)

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2530 Chapter: 6/7 Summary:  An accident at work leaves Tobirama blinded while his eyes are bandaged to heal from some rather nasty burns. Too busy with his own job to play the role of caretaker, wife too pregnant to place the burden on her, Hashirama calls upon his best friend Madara to stay with them and help Tobirama out in anyway he can. Madara isn’t exactly thrilled to play babysitter but he can see an opportunity when one comes along; this may be the chance he’s always waited for.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 6

Having fingers prod at his face had never been Tobirama’s favorite thing. Not being able to see those fingers coming made it several times worse and the only reason he hadn’t swung his fist out to throw a punch on reflex was the sound of his brother’s voice in the background keeping him calm. There were still a few close calls but at least one of them had to stay calm and he had long since resigned himself to the knowledge that it would always be him.

“Everything seems to be healing very well,” a feminine voice spoke from much too close for comfort. “There’s no scarring on your face that you haven’t put there already–”

“They’re tattoos, Dr. Haruno.”

“No, they’re colorful scars. And they’re on your face. But I digress; the burns here all look like they’re healing very nicely and if you haven’t experienced any undue pain or discomfort then I have every reason to believe that your vision will come back just fine when we remove the pads.” Finally the fingers let go of him only for Tobirama to flinch violently at the sudden sound of clapping.

From the corner he heard a quiet, “Oops. Sorry Tobi.” It took effort to resist the urge to roll his still delicate eyes.

“Thank you, Dr. Haruno, you have been most kind.”

“My pleasure,” she told him. “You’re a much calmer patient than I usually have to deal with. A lot of people get rather squirmy about having their sight taken away.”

“I can’t imagine why,” he drawled. She chuckled and he used the sound to track her across the room.

The rest of his appointment was fairly short, just a few reminders to be careful about his face until they could finally remove the bandages and a couple more questions to make sure he understood what to do in the slim chance that his vision did not return as expected. When he left Dr. Haruno dryly informed him that she was waving and it lightened his mood enough to keep him from dwelling on the uncomfortable possibilities of never-ending darkness.

Clinging to Hashirama’s arm as they moved through the hospital and across the parking lot was embarrassing and awkward but it was much faster than trying to feel his own way around. The battle between his pride and his practicality had been an ongoing one for the entirety of this tiring process but it seemed in public his practicality won. Getting away from other people faster was better when he knew they were going to be staring at him no matter what he did. Not that he could blame them for staring. Who wouldn’t double-take at the sight of a man waltzing around with half his head bandaged like a Hollywood mummy?

He had feared that without being able to stare at the world going by outside the only thing to occupy him during the drive would be Hashirama’s annoying radio stations but, to his delight, he realized that it was actually that much easier to simply disappear in to his thoughts while his brother’s voice washed over him, nattering on about one of the patients he had dealt with a few days before. It wasn’t that Tobirama disliked listening to his brother or didn’t care. Rather it was that he knew patient confidentiality was very important and he knew Hashirama was expecting him not to listen and so used times like this to vent about feelings or release any pent up tension that he had been carrying around. It was therapeutic for them both, actually, since it allowed Tobirama a break from social requirements.

Madara was just serving lunch when they pulled in to the driveway. Hashirama made sure to see his brother safely in to the kitchen before scurrying up the stairs saying he wanted to fetch Mito so they could all sit together with their meals.

“Homemade pizza,” Tobirama heard their chef’s voice murmur after shuffling footsteps stopped just beside his right shoulder. Ceramic thumped gently against wood when Madara set the plate down and admitted, “I kind of flubbed the crust so use both hands or else you’ll end up wearing it, it’s not as firm as I meant it to be. I was going to make soup but I didn’t want you to knock the bowl or something.”

“We won’t have to worry about that for much longer.” After a long car ride back from the hospital Tobirama finally allowed the excitement to sink in, feeling his way along the edges of his plate until he found the crust edge of his lunch. “Doctor says everything seems to be healing just fine.”

“Is that so?” Madara hummed and the distant note in his voice had Tobirama pausing just before he took a bite.

“What, you were hoping I’d stay blind forever?” he demanded.

He sort of expected some kind of snarky response but all he heard was a low sigh just barely audible under the sound of another chair scraping away from the table. “I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

It took a lot of effort to clamp down on the instinctual snap back about putting other things in his mouth. Maybe he should stop talking to Izuna so much if the idiot was rubbing off on him enough to have him spewing unintentional innuendos. Tobirama shook the thought away with purpose and tried not to pay too much attention to the images rising up in the back of his mind. Definitely not something he should be thinking about with Madara – or anyone, really – right there in the room with him. Also not something he would have even considered thinking about before losing his sight and being forced to learn a bit more about the man. Truly a worrisome development.

They ate in silence instead of the easy conversation they had been slowly falling in to over the past couple of weeks, Tobirama using the silence to puzzle over what could have Madara's knickers in a twist this time. After what felt like much too long Hashirama finally returned with Mito, who was humming under her breath of all things, and the two of them easily picked up the conversation that had lacked in their absence. For the most part Tobirama listened with one ear, still more interested in figuring out what Madara's problem was. He did pay a little more attention when Hashirama clapped him on the back without warning and he nearly face planted in to his second slice of pizza.

“Anija!” he snarled. “I can’t fucking see yet you imbecile!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Tobi! I’m so sorry! I don’t- I forgot!”

“Forgot my ass! Mito, get him for me!”

“With pleasure, my dear.” Mito’s dreamy voice was followed quickly with a yelp, though he hadn’t heard any sort of impact. It didn’t actually register as all that strange until he heard Madara's reaction.

Shoving his chair back with a noise of disgust, the man declared loudly, “If you’re going to be doing that sort of thing at the kitchen table I think I’ll just eat later. I seem to have lost my appetite.”

Whatever he had seen, Tobirama felt it was safer not to ask.

He also felt it was probably in his best interests to leave the table as well. Part of what had driven him to move out of such a lush home in the first place had been the sickening levels of cutesy canoodling those two got up to even when there were other people in the room. Just because he couldn’t see it didn’t mean he was comfortable sitting around and letting it happen right next to him. Following after his current conundrum seemed like a much safer option.

Madara's footsteps faltered halfway to the living room, presumably when the man noticed he was being followed, and it was the way he waited to make sure Tobirama got where he was going alright without offering unnecessary help that finally clicked all the pieces in to place. He sank in to the chair he had found all on his own mostly because gravity pulled his stunned body down on to the cushions with a little too much force. It might not be the same bee that Madara had up in his bonnet but Tobirama found himself floundering a little in the face of what he’d just realized.

Getting his sight back was all well and good but healing a little faster than everyone thought also meant that Madara would be leaving a little earlier than everyone thought – and Tobirama wasn’t ready for that.

Of course, it wasn’t like they would never see each other again. Madara would always be his brother’s best friend and despite neither of them officially living in this home they did manage to cross paths here with startling frequency. He still didn’t like it. For reasons he was not yet prepared to admit he wasn’t quite ready for Madara to leave because Madara leaving meant that everything would quickly fade back in to how they had always been. The two of them would rarely talk even on the occasions they did run in to each other and Madara would spend his energy focusing on Hashirama rather than the unwanted little brother tucked in to the background of whatever shenanigans they got up to.

It felt like a loss even though he knew he had no right to feel that way. Madara had always been and always would be Hashirama’s. Had probably been born with a photograph of Hashirama stapled to his forehead, already screaming the idiot’s name. If Mito hadn’t come along Tobirama would honestly not have been surprised to see the two of them get married someday despite their continued insistence that they only saw each other as friends.

Now here he was sticking his heart in the middle as though he hoped to belong.

“What are you doing?” he asked, frantically searching for anything to distract him from looking too closely at the places in his heart that were never meant to open up.

“I just have a few touch ups left to do on this project before I send it off to the client. There’s not much to fix and I do have until the end of next week but it never hurts to get an early start in case any new bugs crop up. They have a tendency of doing that.” Something in Madara's voice suggested his words were followed by a shrug and Tobirama wasn’t sure how he felt about knowing that without seeing it.

“Read to me,” he blurted. “I’ve got nothing else to do and I don’t want to spend my afternoon all bored. Will you…read me a book or something?”

Startled silence hung between them for a few seconds until finally Madara said, “Sure? I guess. As long as you understand that I’m going to find the most terrible, awful, crappy novel this house has to offer and probably make you sit through one of Hashirama’s romance mysteries.”

“That’s fine,” Tobirama muttered. Anything to keep the attention with him but not on him.

True to his word, Madara did actually rummage through five different bookshelves in four different rooms, all while Tobirama trailed along behind him just to listen to him crow over the hilariously bad literature and boring science or medical texts, until at last he began to laugh so hard he sounded in danger of giving himself a hernia. It took several minutes for him to calm down enough to say what he found so funny. Every time it seemed like he was about to calm down he would start reading the book summary and fly off the handle yet again.

For the first time Tobirama regretted letting his eyes pass over all the terrible books sitting around, never sure if they belonged to Mito’s secret shameful hoard or Hashirama’s utterly shameless collection. He was all but bouncing on the balls of his feet when finally Madara calmed down enough to speak properly.

“It’s – oh my god – this is the stupidest sounding shit. It’s called ‘Seduction in the Suna Desert’ and th-the little blurb on the back says ‘When a tall drink of water steps out of the desert heat like a tasty mirage, it looks like all of her problems will be solved. Until Harue realizes that she’s accidentally discovered a werewolf’s den in the least likely of places. Will she stay and be mated against her will? Or will she escape and leave behind that tall drink of water that just won’t get out of her head?’ Oh sweet lord this is such utter crap!”

“They actually read that shit?” Tobirama shook his head and despaired that he could be related in any way to two people with such awful taste. “I’m disowning them both.”

“We have to read this,” Madara declared.

“No! Find something else, I beg you, before you melt out my brain with that drivel.”

A firm hand took hold of his own and before Tobirama could properly register how warm Madara's fingers were they were pulling him around and back towards the living room. “Yes, this is happening. You were the one who wanted entertainment! Well I find the idea of making you listen to this very entertaining. Hashirama always says you should take breaks from all the science!”

He wanted to protest that taking a break was not synonymous with halving his own brain cells with dime store romances but the grip on his hand and the laughter in Madara's voice was just distracting enough that he found himself seating on what was probably the living room couch with Madara pressed up against his side a few minutes later. Luckily the opening chapter of ‘Seduction in the Suna Desert’ passed in one ear and right out through the other without a single word sticking in his mind but that was mostly because he couldn’t focus past the sounds of Madara's voice. When he wasn’t screaming the man did have an absolutely incredible voice to listen to.

Two chapters later Tobirama still wasn’t listening to the actual story, more focused on the way his narrator kept cracking up and injecting his opinions on the source material, and the longer he sat there the more he realized that he was much more screwed than he thought. Madara didn’t seem to notice that they were slowly inching closer and closer as Tobirama slid farther down in to the cushions. Or if he did notice he didn’t say anything. Whatever the case was it was better for him to stay silent on the matter so that the panic attack beside him could go on in silence as Tobirama wrestled with an unwanted truth.

It appeared that he had developed feelings for Madara, someone he had hated for many years until his sight was taken away and he was forced to look at the man in other ways. This was more than just unexpected. This was an unprecedented disaster just waiting to happen.

And only he stood to lose anything when Madara left.

[luminaryblood]

Hey! When you get the time/drive, I really want to know what personally draws you to your muse! What is it that inspires you so much? What do you admire in them? What do they mean to you? Just give me a sweet, sweet feelings dump :D

//Oh goodness gracious are you sure you’re ready for this conversation? Because I have so many feelings about Kaito Momota. I’ll try to keep it somewhat brief, but let’s be real I’ll probably ramble on for way too long, haha

Okay so when I first played the game I did not like him. But the thing is I didn’t find him poorly written, quite the opposite. He just annoyed me on a personal level. Like everything he said I was just like “Oh my god how can you be so stupid what the hell?” I just wanted everyone to listen to Kokichi tbh because he was actually being logical. Even in chapter 4 I finished up that trial still very adamant that Kokichi wasn’t evil and I was pretty pissed that Kaito was willing to get everyone killed because he couldn’t accept the truth. But I was also intrigued? I wanted to know what he was up to. And chapter 5 definitely just made me more intrigued by him. He was really, really cool that chapter, and I really wanted to deny because I was/am tsundere af for him, but he was just really badass.

I started to like him more when I did his FTEs, mostly for personal reasons. I happened to do his after I had just had a really awful anxiety attack so the things he says to Shuuichi to encourage him really hit home at that moment. And then I decided to watch my brother play v3 and that was it for me XD. There were just so many little things about his character that once I stopped actively trying not to like him that just endeared him to me so much? He says the most legitimately bizarre things sometimes (in chapter 2 if you examine the piranhas he says he can’t even think about eating them knowing that they ate Ryoma. YOU DON’T EVER EAT PIRANHAS WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT??) His relationship with Shuuichi and Maki is so sweet and meaningful and makes me cry. He has shitty lungs which I find incredibly relatable. He’s a science boy which is my type, but he’s so dense at the same time. I find his sense of style really fashionable actually? (except for those awful shoes oml) I really really like his voice, Japanese version and English version (and the dumb voice my brother and I did for him when playing the game).

More importantly though I realized that the reason I didn’t like him at first was that he reminded me way too much of myself, and that made me uncomfortable. When I finished chapter 4 with my brother it immediately clicked that I was saying how stupid Kaito was for just believing in Gonta because he wanted to, but then believed in Kokichi just because, well, I wanted to. I’ve always been fascinated by hero/villain tropes, but I tended to like the villain and discredit the hero (like when I was a kid and hated Ash because I wanted Team Rocket to win). And I liked the villains because I hated that no one believed in them, and I wanted to be that one person who would. And as I grew up, I really started applying that hyperempathetic view to real people, but that’s a lot different because you get judged for being that idealistic about the real world. At least the people and society I was raised around tended to see you as less intelligent if you’re idealistic and softhearted. I felt like I was being seen as less intelligent than my friends who were cynical, and I went to a school with a lot of academic pressure so I saw being smart more important than being kind, so I stopped standing up for what I believed in because I didn’t want to look dumb. I also think that’s why I felt legitimately bad all the times Kaito would do his “stop calling me an idiot!” thing… cause I relate too much; I used to be terrified of being called stupid.

Kaito obviously doesn’t like being called dumb, but he’s also willing to be seen as less intelligent to say what he believes. And now that I’m away from what was an insanely toxic high school, I really regret looking down on myself and not standing up for others so much. I’m trying really hard to have more confidence in my beliefs and not be afraid of what other people think of me. The funniest thing is that one of Kaito’s lines in the second trial is something about believing in people because you want to, and if you’re wrong it’s just your fault for believing in them, and I laughed the first time because I thought it was so dumb, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that’s the philosophy I want to live my life by. I’ve trusted people in the past who turned out to be awful, but if I’ve also made amazing friends by thinking the best of people. I don’t want a few bad experiences to make me stop believing that people are innately good, because I really truly believe that they are.

That was all personal stuff but his character blows me away from a writing standpoint too. I honestly thought he’d just be a generic comic relief bro character who’d die really early. When I realized he was actually the deuteragonist I was so shocked! And his depth and flaws evolved so well? He really embodies the whole idea of subversion that the game was based on as well as the idea of a long-running TV show gone totally off the rails (which you really can’t appreciate until you learn the twist). Like, imagine any character with that loud, kind of dumb bro archetype from like a slice of life show and imagine them coughing up blood trying to hide that they’re dying from their friends. It’s so jarring and creepy and fascinated me like crazy! If you told me Kaito’s role in chapter 5 after I’d just played the prologue I would have thought you we’re fucking with me.

I told you I’d ramble oh god that’s a lot of writing, and it’s probably really hard to follow, but yeah, as much as I make fun of Kaito he’s a really special character to me, my absolute favourite Danganronpa character, and I just love him so much! My edgy 12 year old self would be so disappointed in my choice of husbandos, but don’t worry they’ll come around eventually. Thank you for prompting me to write all this; it was very therapeutic ^u^

[reads29]

After the Count: The Death of Davey Browne (by Stephanie Convery)

(Warning: this is a LONG post... I have condensed it multiple times but there are just so many sections and themes and quotes to explore it is difficult to cut it down further)

Stephanie Convery fell into the sport of boxing almost by accident. But once she started, she quickly came to love it. It is both therapeutic and challenging, giving her a visceral sense of agency and mastery that she struggles to find elsewhere. It fulfills her desire to push the boundaries of “physical possibility”. However, her enjoyment and the satisfaction she feels when she fights is tempered by her knowledge of the dangers involved. Her unease grows when she learns of the death of Davey Browne. Her personal experience with the sport, and the deep empathy she has for Browne’s family, drive her to investigate and write about Browne’s life and death within a wider discussion of the history and culture of boxing itself.

She is thoughtful in how she approaches his family and is understanding when several people in his life decline (for various reasons) her invitations to talk. In writing the stories and insights of those who do talk, she is sensitive and articulate. Her book is testament to her determination not to let Browne’s story “fall away into the shadows and be forgotten”.

Convery covers a lot of ground. This includes but is not limited to:

the role of money and regulation in sport

the accountability of sporting codes and the people involved in keeping athletes safe

the influence of class in sport

violence and aggression (both in sport and in wider society)

gender in sport

concussion, head injuries and chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) in sport

the research behind CTE and its prevention and management in sport

Convery explains how the risks and insidious effects of head trauma are compounded by a lack of awareness among athletes about the danger of concussions. Many are unaware of the signs and symptoms and that their onset is not always immediate. This lack of awareness necessitates a much more open discussion about head trauma, she argues, whereby athletes should be made aware from a young age about the risks and signs of head trauma. She cites the 2013 example of Rowan Stringer, a female rugby player who died aged 17 after suffering two concussions within a week. A coronial inquest found she had texted friends about symptoms (incl. headache, tinnitus and fatigue) that she was experiencing after being “kicked in the head” during rugby games on May 3 and May 6. She was never diagnosed after these games, but her text messages expressed that she had “googled concussion”. Many have argued that had she understood the seriousness of head trauma, she may have been better able to make an informed decision about whether to get back on the field to play in the final game on May 8, where she suffered the injury from which she never regained consciousness (it is widely reported that Rowan suffered SIS (second impact syndrome) - the existence of this condition is disputed by some, but there is a lot of information online and it is not something that I’m going to delve into here because I really don’t understand it enough and this post is already going to be too long).

Convery argues there is a more sinister problem, however, that is more difficult to change: the win-at-all-cost attitudes (e.g. where athletes who play through injury/concussion are often viewed as “heroic”...) that pervade sport. These entrenched attitudes were a factor in both Rowan and Browne’s stories. Rowan felt an obligation to keep playing while injured. Convery believes that, in boxing, attitudes about “winning at any cost” are intensified by a “conception of masculinity that pride[s] endurance through all kinds of pain”. This idea (that masculinity underpins some of the more dangerous attitudes and behaviours in sport, especially boxing) is explored throughout the book:

Convery describes the restraints that “masculine pride put on a person who [finds] themselves out of their depth in a fight. To be seen to bow out because you had concerns for your safety would be tantamount to saying you were not tough enough, not good enough, not man enough to continue. And for a sport that [runs] on the volatile fuel of masculinity, [is] unacceptable. So the fighter would put on a show of protesting the referee’s decision… whether the rules didn’t allow him the option of saving face, or sheer masculine pride prevented him from bowing out of his own accord, Davey Browne stood up for just one more round and it killed him”

Convery discusses her own various encounters with trainers and fellow boxers, some of whom welcome her, others who have an obvious unease about female boxers and a “disdain for traditionally ‘feminine’ traits – submissiveness, for example, and physical weakness, but also gentleness, meekness, care”.

Evidence gathered from interviews and extensive research is used throughout her writing. She shows, for example, how the unwillingness of sporting codes, in Australia and internationally, to recognise the risk of concussion and CTE in contact sport (let alone participate in critical research on head injury) further inflames the issue of head trauma in sport. She refers to (among others) the NFL in America, which is notorious for denying and covering up the risks of repeated head trauma. Former players have sought compensation from the NFL for concealing the risks of CTE (and the poor mental health, seizures and memory loss that comes with it) and have put sustained pressure on the organisation to implement more safeguards into the sport. The AFL has problems of its own (see https://www.nytimes.com/2019/09/26/sports/afl-football-concussions.html).

While she has an obvious bias, Convery is rightly critical of the way other sports (that usually attract more money and sponsorships by virtue of their popularity) are viewed in stark contrast to boxing:

“Clinically... there is very little difference between one torn hamstring and another, or between two dislocated shoulders… research [of Dr Ann McKee et al.] showed that while the sporting contexts in which CTE developed might be different, the cases were alike in their basic physiology. So what, then, differentiates the sports? Why is boxing considered barbaric, while football continues to march ahead? Many would argue that it’s a matter of intention. That collisions in football or gridiron or even rugby league are not intended to hurt the other person or render them incapacitated, whereas in boxing this is the primary objective; strikes to the face are the point of the sport… the distinction [is] somewhat a matter of degrees. Violence in football wasn’t non-existent – all the crashing and tackling and throwing and shoving was hardly physically benign – but it was sublimated, somehow. Boxing made explicit what in other sports sat just below the surface. The questions that it therefore raised about human behaviour – the undeniable confrontation with mortality that came from making that violence explicit and turning it into a ritual of sorts – was what made people uncomfortable.”

This evolves into a lengthy but intriguing discussion about violence and its function, how it is portrayed in media, and how it is validated and condemned in different contexts:

“When Saddam Hussain was executed in 2006… footage of the incident circulated widely via the internet. Major television networks ran the official video of the event right up until the moment of execution, including the footage of the noose being hung around his neck... a short time later, when shaky amateur footage circulated of the actual hanging, many news organisations ran parts of that, too… [this example] might seem like a far cry from a boxing match… but they form an inextricable part of the spectrum of ideas about violence that ripple through our society: about who orders, sanctions, tolerates or condemns that violence, and in what circumstances it occurs…”

There are many other chapters and sections which I have not done justice and should probably elaborate on but I think this is more than enough for now. The following quote will finish this much better than I can:

“Humans are not like animals in one critical way: humans have a moral code. We have the capacity to justify and think through the implications of our actions. But we have hidden the violence in our everyday lives from ourselves to avoid facing up to it. We are afraid of it, or repulsed by it, and so we refuse to come to terms with it… violence is a power relationship. This is critical to understanding it. To condemn all violence on principle is inherently meaningless, as violence itself has no meaning outside of its context. Similarly, to acknowledge that violence exists and is frequently accepted by society is not to sanction that acceptance. But an understanding of how violence functions in our society, and the moral rights and wrongs of that, cannot be gained by ignoring it, or brushing it aside, or dismissing it wholesale. It needs to be faced. This is what boxing taught me. I don’t pretend that it is everyone’s experience of the sport, but I can’t agree with the conclusion that combat sports should be condemned by dint of their engagement with violence alone. Violence explored in a consensual fashion with adequate measures against disproportionate power imbalances can be transformative. Perhaps a healthy, a different society, one in which equality and social justice are central to its structure rather than one organized primarily around competition and alienation, would transform sports like boxing – would find them to be useful tools to understand different aspects of human nature and power relations.”

Read more about the book and the author here: https://www.smh.com.au/sport/boxing/the-final-round-the-death-of-boxer-davey-browne-20200221-p54332.html

[dandp-maeanderson]

Evaluative statement

Professional Practice lecture series –

I found Tessa’s professional practice lecture series incredibly useful. It allowed me to appreciate the many different avenues I could take once I leave university. I have always been interested and passionate about education and in particular creative education and its benefits concerning behaviour, mental and emotional wellbeing. When I left school, I was really upset to learn that my old school were stopping running GCSEs in drama and textiles due to loss of funding and staff redundancies. The creative arts in schools are essential to self-expression, managing emotions and encouraging a career path in the creative industry. I have always loved the idea of becoming an art teacher and have previously done work experience in the art departments in high schools following the teachers and the technician to learn more about their jobs. This gave me more of an understanding about the current state of art departments in schools and I saw first hand the direct results of funding cuts.

My plan has always to apply for teacher training once I finish uni, but through the PP lectures and completing a “learning plan” has helped me identify which skills and experiences I already have that would be beneficial to being a teacher. Obviously all of my technical printmaking, painting, drawing and sculpture skills I have learnt through my own education (school, college, art foundation and at UWE!) and a series of trial and error experiments will aid my application, but also considering my own experiences working in retail since I was 16, my volunteering experience with the Girl Guides and other pieces of work experience I have done with my local museum whilst I was at college. I grew up with my nan running a children’s home for disabled teenagers and my mum worked as a school nurse then with social services in their emergency response team. Both of these things have been huge influences on my ambitions and have given me inspiration to work with children/teenagers with additional needs or on the pastoral care side of education. Tessa made me realise how all of this information is actually incredibly valuable and would support a teacher training application – and has even made me think about working as a teaching assistant or technician (or even an artist in residency within a private school) before undertaking the teacher training so I can ensure I feel confident within the classroom setting. I have also been inspired to look into other roles within education such as an educational welfare officer which is basically the foundation of most pastoral services.

The mock interview we did with Tessa was quite funny really – as I’ve had loads of interviews before due to part time jobs and university applications, but I’ve never actually interviewed for a teaching-based job. It was challenging in the way that I had to think quickly in response to the questions (and that it was in front of the rest of the class!) but I think I did a good job and it gave me an understanding of what would be required for a teacher interview, for example, I would probably be asked to do a lesson with a class so they could observe me.

Some books I have read that I feel are integral into my understanding of education and what makes a good teacher –  

Some Kids I Taught and What They Taught Me by Kate Clanchy.

The Freedom Writers Diary by The Freedom Writers and Erin Gruwell.

Both of these books discuss education and the lesser value placed on the creative arts subjects – as both authors are creative writing English teachers by trade. Kate Clanchy works in an inclusion unit and discusses her entire experience of teaching and how to use poetry as a medium of self-expression through class and language barriers. She talks of how she began to understand that a lot of the children she was teaching were facing incredible difficulty or responsibility at home and how that influences the way a child or teenager would behave in school and eventually how that would effect their life trajectory. Erin Gruwell was a newly qualified teacher going into a “left behind” English class on Long Beach, USA, teaching teenagers the value of the written word, and their experiences. The students were inspired by the Diary of Anne Frank and eventually raised enough money to bring Miep Gies (the woman who hid Anne and her family) over to their school for an interview. Erin Gruwell set the class an assignment of keeping their own diary, and this book is the published result of that assignment. Reading it, you get a sense of some of the harrowing experiences these students (most from non-white, working class backgrounds) experienced, from sexual assault to gang violence. I feel like these books gave me the knowledge to understand the reasonings behind people’s behaviours but also gave me a sense of understanding in my own behaviours during my school years as a reaction to my home life where my mum had cancer and my parents awful divorce.

Work experience –  

My experience volunteering for the Guides has been really enjoyable and I’ve learnt a lot. I was a Brownie and a Guide when I was younger, and the experiences I had were some I would never have had. It is an organisation I can align my beliefs with. They are an inclusive safe space for girls and young women to learn, grow, be creative and give back to their communities. It provides a foundation for friendships and new experiences. I feel proud to volunteer for them. Unfortunately, due to Covid-19 our Summer Term activity (a play organised by the girls) has been cancelled as we can’t hold our meetings. This is such a shame as it was something me and our unit leader Hazel had organised together – and I was going to start running to occasional unit meeting in preparation for potentially undergoing youth leader training over the summer holidays. We already have to complete a DBS check as well as do regular online training for safeguarding purposes. This has given me a lot of experience in understanding what actually goes on within youth-centred groups. In the future, I’d like to try and arrange work experience/volunteering for a non-religion youth organisation as I’d like to see the work youth workers do in relation to keeping at risk teenagers safe.

I have been in contact with my old head of year from school who is now the head of inclusion in a behavioural referral education centre and I had work experience arranged with him (end of May 2020) to get an idea of how these inclusion units operate, but due to Covid-19 and the UK being on lockdown this has been cancelled (hopefully I will be able to rearrange this for the future!). I also had applied for a job as an exam invigilator at our local grammar school in the hopes I would’ve been able to invigilate their A Level and GCSE art exams to give me an idea of how the qualifications are run – but again, due to Covid-19 I never actually heard back from the job application due to all exams being cancelled. I approached a few art therapists about work experience, but this was all denied as they only take work experience students direct from counselling programmes.

In the past, I have done a few one-off days during work experience in my old school where I ran workshop sessions for their GCSE students. This is something I was really excited to start contacting schools about before they broke up for the summer – especially as my old art teacher has invited me back into my old school in October to talk to her groups about higher education in art. Not many students go onto college in the first place, let alone choosing an A level in art so this was something I was really excited to do – hopefully it will go ahead! My ideas for workshops included a basic lino printing and pattern workshop for the GSCE textiles students and a paper sculpture workshop where the students printed their thumbprints, and drew them out on big, thick paper and painted designs onto their shapes – then we would cut the shapes out so they were all in one big, continuous line and we hung them from the ceiling with a spotlight on them to create all sorts of shadows and shapes across the walls, which they would then draw with drawing ink to create these beautiful line drawings. Hopefully, I will be able to run this workshop eventually as I’m really excited by it!

Lucy’s research talk + studio chats with her –

I found Lucy’s research talk the most engaging in relation to the similarities between her work and my work. I love pattern, and frequently get myself caught up in questions on why pattern exists. Her video where she created a drawing device she attached to her feet and then recorded her movements whilst swaying her baby to sleep was something really interesting especially when documenting patterns of movement as well as aesthetic patterning. The drawings she made in collaboration with a maths/science (I can’t figure out whether it’s maths or science?) expert in producing a drawing showing complex systems fascinated me and made me think about the way different people can learn.

I would have loved to have heard a recording of the conversations they had!

Me and Lucy always have really interesting conversations in the studio. One particular conversation that was very useful happened in January when I was embarking on my quilting/pattern-based work. It feels like I can blurt out all of my brain jumble and Lucy can just put it back into order for me! She suggested I look into feminist theory on pattern and repetitive art and the (kind of out-dated idea now) that there was a socially ingrained reason the first big female artists were interested in pattern. This was an incredibly big question to consider – in the end, I decided that I felt like the repetitive rhythm of pencil marks that I found so soothing was to do with the therapeutic nature of the gesture rather than any age-old social construct. I feel the same with collections – a small collection of my belongings discussing the ideas of materialism/what qualities I cherish within an object and doing small drawings of the contents of my bag. These things I might never have discovered without my research after our conversation.

Visiting speakers –

Lucy’s work with the complex systems reminded me of Kate Hopkins’ lecture on imagination and the difference between people’s brains. She explained how she cannot mentally visualise. This made me think about the different ways brains work and how people understand visual material. If someone without an art background were to see my work, how would they understand it? Would they need contextual information? We already know people process colours differently, do objects look different to different people? How would my work be seen in a gallery space vs in a home? Would this effect the way people understand my concepts and the aesthetics of my work?

I also thoroughly enjoyed Tom Musgrove’s talk where he discussed honestly his struggle with making work initially leaving university and talking about his financial difficulties in the beginning. I feel like this resonated with me because it gave me a true representation of how life as a freelance artist is, without financial backing from parents.

[lovelikelex]

An open letter to the people that I hurt

Dear friends, I would like to explain a lot of things, but I just don’t know how. I could say over and over how “sorry” I am, but it certainly wouldn’t make up for all of the nasty things that I said, or all of the times that I laughed about your misfortunes.

I writing this letter not to make excuses for the way that I have treated you all. I am here to explain to you MY story, so that you can better understand why I acted the way that I did. It took me a long time to think about my actions and to realize why I was so incredibly bitter and negative toward everyone who did nothing but love me. I’m ready to talk about this now so that I can heal, and hopefully so that you can forgive me.

I grew up in an environment where I always felt I had to be defensive about everything I did. As a child and even as a teenager, I always had this inner voice telling me “get them before they get me.” - this mentality followed me for 19 years of my life and influenced a lot of my decisions. I am just now realizing that I missed out on a lot of opportunities and a lot of friendships/relationships all because I always had to be right about everything.

In school to compensate for the lack of attention that I received elsewhere, I felt like I always had to be the best at everything - which is heartbreaking and now, as I see it, incredibly toxic. I started acting at the age of 13. At that age, it’s primarily a game and most kids don’t take it seriously. I did. When I got to high school, I started singing in several auditioned choirs. It really felt therapeutic for me; probably the only time that I ever received positive attention in school. I never felt like I had to make a funny face or anything like that to get my choir gang to like me. When I got a bit older, I started to become more serious with my performing. I received several awards, participated in KMEA, went to New York, So many incredible opportunities that I most likely wouldn’t have been afforded had I not joined this community of singers and actors.... but I had it all wrong. I had a chip on my shoulder and had to be better than everyone I met. In my 17-year-old brain, I was finding ways to one-up every single person I met. My way of doing this? By bullying everyone I thought I was “better” than and by saying terrible things about them. My attitude kept me from enjoying so many things. If I wasn’t cast as a “lead” role, I didn’t want to participate.

Now, looking back, I sort of chuckle at that kid who had his head in all of the wrong places. I think that growing up with a disabled parent was also the cause of a lot of my actions. I sometimes felt like I had to act out in order to get attention on me. It was sometimes hard for my mother to make it to events like choir concerts or plays or whatnot, and I had friends who had parents who cheered them on at every single performance. Don’t get me wrong, I was certainly grateful that someone had shown up for me, but I felt lonely. I felt sad. I trust that you have felt that way before, haven’t you?

My anger got worse and so did my uncontrollable rages and meltdowns until I met David. I can almost picture him at the piano right by the dining hall at centre college, playing blissful music and stopping to say “what’s wrong?” I can picture him following me around the speed art museum and telling me that sometimes good people do bad things. I can see him pushing me on a swing set and sending me pictures of him with his kitties... but the number one thing that I will remember undoubtably for the rest of my life will be his willingness to love me harder, when I at sometimes pushed him away. I can look back on my phone and visualize the missed texts and DM’s on Instagram of him saying “great performance tonight!” Or “You are so talented and so special.” David, my roadmap, my light. You know, friends, David was so special to me. He never spoke over me or interrupted me. He listened to every beat and was always there to offer support and encouragement. I think sometimes, especially in times of confusion or conflict “I wish david were here because he would know exactly what to say to make things better.” He was always like that. I could come to him with a tear-soaked shirt or a smile that could light up the darkest room, and yet, he loved me all the same.

When David Died, a part of me died. The part of me that was joyful, energetic, and lively... that part of me just broke. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I just froze. Half of me was gone. I don’t know that I will ever get that part of me fixed, but I am definitely healing. Grief is a lifelong process of healing.

When I started college, still stuck in my “get-them-before-they-get-me” phase, I found a wonderful group of people whom I considered to be family. We celebrated birthdays, holidays, and mainly each other’s success. But still hurting, and refusing to get help, I fell into a deep, dark, depression. I started drinking. Drinking so much that I couldn’t function because I felt that as long as I couldn’t function, I couldn’t hurt. I would rather feel like headache, morning sickness, and hangover rather than to feel the pain and loss of my best friend. Over months, this habit grew worse. I had a strict talk with the head of my department and got things straightened out. I started to see a therapist. But still, I was being toxic. Spreading lies. Spreading hate. Why? I don’t think I’ll ever know, but I still think it has to do with that small child inside of me who wouldn’t care let anyone get close enough to love me out of fear that everyone would leave, and they left anyway.

I truly was not a kind person. I made mistakes. And mistakes aren’t the issue, it’s how you handle them. And how did I handle this problem? I moved fourteen hours away and changed overnight. I went to bed and said “I never want to be that person ever again” and I wasn’t. I received high praise from my leaders and coordinators at work. I had a good name in the entertainment/show biz department. And the most important thing that I did, was remind each and every person that I met how special they were and how much they meant to me - something that David often reminded me of that I never acknowledged before his passing.

what do hurt and love have in common? They are both four letter words, and it is what you do with these feelings that count the most.

I am still hurt, sure, but I am finding better ways to talk about and express those feelings. I am sometimes angry, too. I’m sure that you feel that way sometimes. But I would rather throw a ball as hard as I can, write something on a piece of paper, or run as fast as I can rather than spread hatred or lies about the people I love and care about.

To people who I have hurt, I am sorry. Truly and wholeheartedly sorry. I am asking you if we can start over and if you can possibly forgive me for anything I might’ve said or did that hurt your feelings or made you feel unlovable.

And to my friends who have stuck around through my toxic behavior and loved me harder when I pulled away from you, I appreciate that support more than anything in this world. You are valued beyond measure.

Love, Lex.

[chicagoindiecritics]

New from Jon Espino on The Young Folks: Interview: Trey Edward Shults, Kelvin Harrison Jr., and Taylor Russell talk about the complexities in ‘Waves’

Every decade or so, we get new media that only entertains us but educates us on the experiences of the next generation. Many times they highlight the new complexities and differences of their experience to ours, but they also remind us that while it may be put in a different context, at its core they are things we have also gone through. Trey Edward Shults delivers exactly that in his latest film, Waves, which explores not only how these experiences affect a family unit, but how race can also play into them.

We spoke with Trey Edward Shults, and actors Kelvin Harrison Jr. and Taylor Russell collaborating together, revisiting their teenage years, MySpace and the start of social media, and more.

Since your first film, Krisha, you’ve created films that explore different family dynamics. We revisit topics like addiction and overbearing fathers. What attracts you to these types of stories?

Trey Edward Shults: I just connect to a lot of them. Personal experiences and loved ones’ experiences, especially in these 3 movies [Krisha, It Comes at Night, Waves] because they weren’t made that far apart. They were probably all brewing in the brain at around the same time. Whether it’s conscious or not, I think I was still rustling with some certain things, and remain fascinated by them.

As the film starts, everything seems almost idyllic, nearly perfect, but as it goes on, we learn the true complexity of each character. What was it about your respective characters that drew you in?

Kelvin Harrison Jr.: For me it was seeing this boy who had so much love and respect for his dad and those around him, but he really didn’t know how to communicate that or know what to do with that information for himself. He starts trying to appease everyone in a way that ultimately strips him away from his own identity and his own voice. I wanted to show the humanity of a black boy where he doesn’t fall into the cliches, but who can make mistakes that also don’t define who they are. I also wanted to show how a family would have to grow because of the historical traumas that come from being a black family in America right now. It wasn’t just about the character but also the entire message of what we have to go through as African Americans. 

Taylor Russell: It’s really rare that you get characters like this for a young woman. I haven’t ever seen a script like this come across my lap, so it was a no-brainer to be a part of it. To see a story that is so nuanced, truthful, and authentic to the complexities of the black experience, which is so vast and so different for every person, made me admire how that was portrayed in this story. I liked how quiet she was, and how her strength was unconventional and unique. Even the storytelling style was perfect, how it was told in the two halves, was something that felt unique and that I had never seen before. I knew Trey’s work from Krisha. It was shot in such a beautiful way and unlike any other cinema. People were telling me that it was going to be quite close to Krisha, and I was like, “Oh my god, if it’s going to be like that then hell yes! Let’s do it!”

I like the way the film is split into two different perspectives. The first half focuses on the male experience, while the second half follows the aftermath and the female experience. Was it always your intention to split the film up this way?

TES: I think it was in the DNA way before even writing it. It functions in dichotomies, literally from highs and low, white and black, male and female, love and hate, and everything else in between. I liked the idea of the movie functioning in these dichotomies, but what it’s really about is the link and complexity of how we’re connected by the contrasts in our lives.

Although the film mostly focuses on the individual struggles and the family as a whole, there are a few moments in the film that talks exclusively to the black experience in America. What resources did you use to research this before incorporating it into the film? 

TES: Kelvin was such an invaluable resource, and he’s the reason that the story is about a black family. We met on our last film [It Comes at Night] and first started talking about Waves. I didn’t have it written yet, but I started talking about ideas of what I thought the movies was, and broad strokes about what I wanted it to be. Then, we were like, “We should do it together.”  When I was first writing it, we were texting a lot. Almost like little therapy sessions as we were learning about each other, learning about our commonalities and shared experiences with families, especially around the character’s age. Kel got a first draft, 8 months before we started shooting and then we kept building it further and further at that point. I let the actors kind ad-lib and make some changes to the scenes so that it would feel more natural and authentic. I felt like it was my job just to listen and understand and try to capture everything I could. 

So this was truly a collaborative process?

TES: Oh, absolutely.

KHJ: It was so easy because it really feels like the script and Trey’s version of it really understands the family. It was like the skeleton and the muscles, setting a strong foundation so that we can come in and be like, “Well, let’s put some brown skin here and a little blush and we’re good to go.”  I was never fearful of speaking up and being like, “Well this is how I feel and this is how I experienced this.” He would also respond with, “Well that makes sense and I understand that so now let’s shoot it that way.” To me, that’s beautiful.

While watching the film, it takes a turn partway through where it turns into a horror film. It feels almost nightmarish at a certain point.

TR: On the day of shooting those scenes, you could tell right away the tonal shift the movie was taking. It felt scary, and that day of filming was really intense too. Although a lot of that was in the script, it is still quite shocking when you see the final version. 

TES: I talked about this with Sterling [K. Brown] a lot too. For this family, the greatest tragedy has happened and a nightmare has come to life. It started with exploring how this would feel for this family and this situation, and from there it grew to adding the visuals and audio elements that would end up giving it more of a horror feel. 

One of the things that really helped push some of the more unnerving elements was the sound design and Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ score. How did that come together?

TES: It just got super lucky. One day, I got an email from Trent and Atticus saying they were interested in working together. It was unbelievable. For sound design, I had Johnnie Burn and his whole team create that atmosphere and mood. 

I’m still haunted by the sounds of the ligaments and muscles tearing. It was almost like ASMR, but in the most stressful kind of way. 

TES: Johnnie had such an amazing foley team and I don’t even know how they got most of the sounds they used in the film. We played with that beyond just what would sound natural and tried out things that would be more subjective to the characters, like whenever Tyler would use his shoulder. 

KHJ: Oh, I was on the ground and I could definitely hear it and feel it.

Did you know how to wrestle or did you have to learn just for the role?

KHJ: Hell-to-the-no. I had to transform. I did 3 months of wrestling training. I did 3 days a week of CrossFit with wrestling twice a day. My wrestling coach Vlad is actually in the movie. He would tell me, “Kelly, get tough!”  It was a tough experience but ultimately great for the movie because I could feel free and authentic when playing the character. 

For some people, their teenage years are either the best or the worst. How did it feel revisiting that time for your characters, or even while developing this film together?

TR: I mean, we play teenagers a lot. I feel like I’m constantly in high school. Maybe I’ll finally graduate one day. One can only dream. I think I got a little bit longer because I have a babyface. This story though feels so transcendent beyond being a 16-year-old, it’s more about the human experience. In that way, it feels like it could be at any age. At the same time, it’s telling the story of teenagers and experiencing and feeling things for the first time. It was a fun thing to explore, but also a hard thing. 

KHJ: It was therapeutic for me. My parents saw it for the first time and they told me that that could really understand the relationships. That’s what the movie ends up being about: relationships. At the end of it, I was feeling like maybe I should call my mom and try to figure out how to communicate with her a little bit better. It transcends age in a lot of ways, but the specificity of the 2019 kid experience is fascinating to me. I remembering having MySpace growing up.  

I honestly still miss MySpace. It’s basically the only reason I have the limited HTML coding knowledge I have. I mainly miss that you could set specific songs on the page. 

KHJ: I don’t miss it at all. So many fights when you would set your top 5 or top 10. It was the beginning of proper social media drama, and I was just not interested in it. The intensity of that now with apps like Instagram and Snapchat is insane. 

TR: In the film, you see the role that social media plays after the major event happens. Just the way people comment and speak about it so realistic. Even the cussing in the movie feels real, like when Trey has the phone autocorrect “ducking” for the f-word. We all know about that and that feeling when you’re so mad that you just don’t even care that it typed that out because we all know what they’re trying to say. It just adds to the overall relatability and speaks to real experiences.  

from Jon Espino – The Young Folks https://ift.tt/2KVxHkE via IFTTT

from WordPress https://ift.tt/2XUzrQy via IFTTT