#second for production design and shooting

[brian-in-finance]

🧵Outlander_Starz: Outlander is back and so is "Inside Outlander," your scoop on the behind-the-scenes magic that brings this magical series to life! ✨ Let's dive into the emotional premiere, "Unfinished Business," shall we?"

Returning to Lallybroch and the location of Midhope Castle where Outlander films wasn't just magical for the fans but for the cast as well. Sam Heughan says this was his favourite location from this second half of the season.

Going back to Lallybroch was a really big moment, for Jamie but also for Outlander. It's where we started. I have a lot of memories working there. One of my first days shooting in Season 1 was at Midhope at Lallybroch... so it was quite a special moment.

Actually, I'd never been in the actual castle because it's derelict. We were using the doorway. So, I actually got to go in this time and have a look inside, which was very special. — SAM HEUGHAN, JAMIE FRASER

🧵Outlander_Starz: Showrunner and Executive Producer Matthew B. Roberts said, "Bringing one of our main characters back into the show... Scotland... she's such a beauty.

You miss her when you're not there. I love when we can play Scotland for Scotland at any point. And that iconic driveway going up to Lallybroch, it always makes your heart beat a little faster."

🧵Outlander_Starz: Set Decorator Stuart Bryce, who has been on Outlander since the beginning, was nostalgic at recreating this set across decades: "New touches, like Mike Gunn's murals, were a great addition, but essentially we didn't have to change too much. We kept it as true as we could to the original Lallybroch.

The tapestries in the dining room had been in storage, and there were a few pieces missing, so finding the original plans and having to recreate them was a challenge."

🧵Outlander_Starz: For Production Designer Mike Gunn, now that we're seeing Lallybroch in 1739 as well as the 1770s and 1980s, it was important to instantly recognize Roger was in a different time. He came up with the idea that behind the incredible tapestries from Season 1, there were murals created in the time of Brian Fraser, hidden after Culloden, then discovered by Bree and Roger in the 80s.

Read more about how Mike used these murals to plant Easter Eggs about Jamie and the story of Outlander itself!

I developed this backstory that the murals depicted the Jacobite rising and fight for Scottish independence. By the time the 1770s came and the Jacobites had lost Culloden, that's when the tapestries were hidden... In the 1980s, the tapestries were taken off. That was the starting point.

Then I decided to weave in the story of Outlander...

The unicorn, which I decided to depict in all of the four images, was Jamie. And of course, Claire is going to come into that journey. The central mural above the fireplace with the unicorn and horse, that's the two of them in love. But the unicorn is depicted as having his struggles throughout. He's depicted fighting a mythical beast that you could say is Black Jack. — MIKE GUNN, PRODUCTION DESIGNER

🧵Outlander_Starz: Fans will be delighted to see Jamie and Claire staying in the Laird's bedroom again with the iconic blue wallpaper. Set Decorator Stuart Bryce says of this room: "There is something about that blue that makes people's skin look amazing and enhanced those early romantic scenes of Jamie and Claire.

When we came to put the room back together, though it was exactly the way it should have been, by some mystery, the room was bigger...something spooky happened there!"

Inside Unfinished Business • 1 of 1

Threads 🧵

Remember… you miss her when you're not there. I love when we can play Scotland for Scotland at any point. And that iconic driveway going up to Lallybroch, it always makes your heart beat a little faster. — Matthew B Roberts

[plexiglassonion]

I wonder how much preproduction is currently going on for the beatles biopics. Have they started anything at all really is what I wanna know more broadly. Any lines of dialogue, any research on the characterisation approaches, literally any visualisations like concept art or moodboards. Is any crew being assembled or considered? Convos with paul ringo yoko and olivia? what the fuck is a dating cadence Mr mendes??

[batemanofficial]

made SO much progress on my script so far today :^) almost done with what i think will be the most finicky film of my analysis section which is such a relief

[bibluebutterfly]

Hoo boy. Now I've made it known multiple times on my blog that I LOATHE the whoobiefication of Vox, but lets get into why/how Vox is NOT a good person nor a baby that needs protecting and why he's all the better for it. Buckle up ladies and gentlemen, this will be long.

Now, why isn't Vox a good person? Easy. Because he (along with the other Vees) is supposed to be the bad guy of the story. Shocking, I know. Vox was NEVER intended to be a good person, and some of y'all just need to accept that.

Now for the long part: HOW is he not a good person?

Well, first of all, his literal introduction is an ad selling drones HE DESIGNED specifically for stalking,"peeping on the neighbors has never been more stylish"

Right off the bat, this tells us he doesn't care about people unless he can profit off them.

Which is also backed up by the point that he ADVERTISES Val and Vels "love potions" which are basically just roofies.

Again. This man ONLY cares about profit first and foremost, screw the people who can get hurt/SA'd by his products.

Next, he has a power of hypnosis which he is NOT hesitant to use. He can take away someones free will at a glance and uses that to his full advantage.

He's also very willing to give Val his lowest earners to shoot. Notice that he does so with no hesitance and no regret.

Also, (and most significantly) he's a huge, HUGE enabler. This guy has cameras EVERYWHERE, ESPECIALLY when Valentino is involved. He's got cameras in Val's room, Angels old room, at Vals corner of the club (which moves when Val does), there's NO WAY he DOESN'T know that Val is a r@pist.

And DESPITE that, he still sleeps with the man, is very likely in love with him, and oh yeah, FUNDS HIS WHOLE DEAL. The cameras Val uses are Voxtech cameras.

Val may be the one who does the dirty work but Vox willingly and knowingly makes a profit off of that. He doesn’t just know and do nothing, he actively HELPS Val out and obviously has no second thoughts nor regrets about it.

This is not a look of disgust or discontent, this is fondness. Genuine fondness. For Valentino. As a PERSON. Let that sink in.

There’s also the implications that Vox is jealous of the attention Angel gets from Val. Angel gets abused constantly by Val, Vox KNOWS, and still hates Angel because of the sheer fact that he takes up so much of Vals attention.

Not to mention the HEAVY implications that he gets off on watching people suffer.

“Well Vox can still do better than Val!!”

While I’m at it, I guess I should bring up the fact that BOTH Vox and Val are MASSIVE red flags.

With Val, aside from the obvious, he’s also a huge attention whore for Vox and isn’t afraid to break Vox’s property if Vox doesn’t pay attention to him. Yeah Vox gets frustrated with him, who wouldn’t be when their lover is throwing temper tantrums every other day?

With Vox, again, aside from the obvious, isn’t afraid to handle Val roughly when he’s mad, and literally screams about how watching his arch nemesis/obsession get the crap beat out of him is better than sex. Right in front of Val by the way. In regular circumstances, 9.98/10 that’s gonna get your ass dumped in a second.

Not to mention the mutual condescension ation towards each other.

And as much as fans (including myself admittedly) like to shit on Val for being a man child, Vox is literally no better.

Plus the explosive tempers.

Seriously. Vox LITERALLY cannot do better than Val. Vox is the only one who can put up with Vals BS and vice versa.

OH YEAH and lets not forget one last thing: VOX ALSO ABUSES HIS OWN EMPLOYEES.

This dude is scared of him, and it’s NOT because he’s worried about getting fired.

So yes. Vox is not nor HAS EVER been a good person.

And for me personally, I love that. I love that he’s entertaining yet awful. I love his dynamic with Alastor, and I love his relationship with Val even more.

If you’re wondering why I personally love Staticmoth, it’s because basic couple rules do not apply to them. They’re both toxic narcissistic red flags and therefore they can be as awful as they want to each other, and the other will simply shake it off. Yet there’s still heavy trust between the two (never being scared of each other) and they still have little moments together where they’re genuinely happy. It’s unique, and something I’ve never seen in media before.

Basically, if you liked Vox better when you thought he was a poor little baby being abused by Val, read a fan fiction. There’s a lot of them out there.

But people really just need to accept the fact that he’s an awful person. Always has been. He’s not better than Val by ANY means. He and Val are both evil pricks who deserve each other.

And guess what? LIKING AN EVIL CHARACTER DOES NOT MEAN YOU SUPPORT THEIR CHOICES. IT’S OKAY TO LIKE VOX EVEN IF HE IS EVIL.

But don’t go on saying that Vox was “ruined” as a character when all signs have always pointed to him being terrible.

[watchmegetobsessed]

WING IT

A/N: we are slowly getting more content, lets just hope something drops soon!

WORD COUNT: 3k

SUMMARY: It's your first day working in Selma's Home, you're nervous enough already, but when an emergency calls your boss away and you're left alone, the situation is topped when famous CEO Harry Styles casually strolls in.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

It doesn’t matter that this job is just an in-between. Something that earns you money until your dream position opens. A first day is always stressful, especially when you have no idea what to do.

You were applying to dozens of jobs at once, just shooting everywhere you could, hoping to get an answer back before your rent was due. Selma’s Home was the first one to invite you for an interview and somehow, miraculously you even got the job despite the fact that you have no experience in retail. You suspect that desperation was a big factor in your hiring, because Selma lost 2 of her employees at once when the young couple that was working for her moved across the country. 

Now here you are, walking into the store, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you head down the aisles where you see Selma behind the cash register already getting ready to open.

“Hi!” you greet her, her head snapping up at your weak voice. Selma is such a fierce, kind of intimidating woman, but you can see how it helped her to open this store and make it one of the most successful home decor stores in the city, offering tasteful stylish pieces along with practical utility items for one’s home. 

“Oh, hi! Welcome to your first day, you ready?” She even cracks a smile, but somehow it just makes you gulp hard.

“Yeah, readier than ever!” you manage to squeeze out a nervous chuckle, hoping she doesn’t sense your jitters.

“Alright, then let’s get started.”

With an hour until opening Selma is eager to squeeze in as much information into it as possible. She walks you through the store, talking about the most important items, but also handing you a handbook about everything that’s currently selling in the store.

“Use your downtime to roam around and you’ll learn them by the end of the week without the handbook,” she says, eyes running over the shelves as she is talking, already moving to the storage room in the back. 

She talks about the system, how to unload the new arrivals every two weeks and then you move on to the cash register, aka your biggest fear. It’s quite the stress factor to deal with money, making sure everything is neat and correct, you can only hope you won’t mess it all up.

Then the store opens and you follow around Selma to learn the ropes. What’s different here is that whenever a customer comes in you offer them help right away and if needed, you assist them throughout their whole time shopping. There are quite some designer products selling and you’ll need to know everything about them to be able to sell them to the customers just like Selma does.

She is so good at it. No matter who comes in, she so effortlessly talks them into leaving with not only what they came for, but some more as well. She is enchanting, nice, open and warm and you just keep taking notes mentally, though you don’t feel confident enough to be as charming as she can be the moment the bell rings above the door. 

When lunch rolls around you allow yourself to feel relieved for a second that you survived half the day already. Selma sends you to the back to have your lunch and you just sit in silence, staring ahead of you, mustering up all your energy for the rest of the workday. You’ve just finished your sandwich when Selma barges into the breakroom.

“Y/N, there’s a bit of an emergency.”

You jump to your feet, scenarios already running through your mind. Is there a fire? Did the storefront just collapse? Someone stole those hella expensive Japanese tablecloths? 

“What happened?”

“My daughter, she is ugh! Such a menace, she got into trouble at school, so I have to go there. I need you to cover for a bit, just an hour tops, I swear!” 

She is already grabbing her purse, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head, car keys in hand while you just stand there dumbfounded. Is she actually gonna leave you alone in the store on your first day?

“Selma, I-I don’t…”

“You do, Honey. Just an hour. This is a dead time anyway, if anyone comes in, just try your best to help them and ring them up at the end. Easy, I know you can do it!”

She is storming out and you follow her like a lost puppy.

“B-But what if I mess something up?” you ask, panic setting in. 

“As long as you don’t set the store on fire, you’ll be fine. I trust you, Y/N!”

And with that, she is already gone, the bell rings above the door as you stand there like a statue. 

You watch the storefront in pure panic, your stomach dropping every time it seems like someone is approaching the shop, but no one comes in. 

Until the bell rings above the door. 

For a split second you hope it’s Selma, but looking up you see a tall, broad figure and your heart threatens to burst right out of your anxiety filled chest, at first because hello! It’s a customer! But then as he steps further into the shop and takes off his sunglasses, realization settles in. 

This is not just a regular customer, this is Harry Fucking Styles, CEO of Pleasing Productions, the studio that’s given the world the absolute best romantic movies in the past decades and the man is famously known for being a ladies favorite, but appearing as a total mystery in the media. 

You’ve read about him a lot before, it’s hard not to bump into his name online, thanks to his looks he is always somehow in talk for either having dinner with a model, appearing on the red carpet looking like a fucking snack, or, your personaly favorite, declining giving an answer to a question regarding his private life. 

And now he is standing there, looking around the store. 

It takes a couple of moments for you to push out of this frozen state and finally step forward.

“Hello!”

Wow. Did your voice actually sound like that?

Clearing your throat you keep moving towards him.

“Hi, can I help you with anything?”

You try to rake your mind to remember everything you’ve seen and heard from Selma to use now, but the moment he looks up, your mind goes blank. He is just as beautiful as he looks in pictures or maybe even more. Unlike on those red carpet photos where he is always dressed in designer suits, now he is wearing a pair of simple pants and a gray long sleeve, his hair is a bit tousled and it appears he is growing his beard out, a bit shaggy, but he makes it look very… hot. That’s all you can say looking at him.

“Oh, hey!” He is sporting a polite smile as he looks up, about to keep talking, but he stops for a moment upon looking at you and he stops.

Everything stops. 

It’s as if he is taking you in, you can feel your cheeks heating up, the nervous fidgeting starts again, but you hide your hands behind your back so he doesn’t notice. 

“I’m looking for some kitchen stuff,” he then says, hiding his hands in his pockets. 

“Great!” you breathe out. “We do have… those.”

You flinch internally, but ignore just how awkward you are in his presence. 

You ask him about what he needs specifically as the two of you start walking down the isles and for a moment you think of grabbing the handbook, but that would look awful, so you make a decision on the spot.

You’re gonna just wing it. 

What could go wrong? You’ll just pretend like you’re Selma, confident and know everything about the items, you’re gonna say whatever comes to your mind and just… wing it. 

All while ignoring how attractive this man is up close. And intimidating. And charming. And…

“I think I want to check out the coffee stuff first,” he suggests and nodding you walk him over to the kitchen items.

“Do you have a coffee machine and you’re looking for some accessories, or…”

“I just got one of those old fashioned moka coffee pots,” he says with a boyish smile. “But I want to get that to the next level, if you know what I mean.” You do not.

“Of course,” you smile, eyes scanning over the shelves. 

Your grandmother has one of those old moka coffee makers, but you have absolutely no idea what else could be used for those, so you just start grabbing things and making up what they are used for. 

One after the other, you just keep showing him stuff with no idea what you’re talking about, but the longer you’re talking the more confident you’re growing, especially when he just keeps nodding and humming along to anything you say. 

“So… which one are you more interested in?” you ask at the end of your little speech. You look at him and find him already looking at you with a tiny smile curling up the corners of his mouth. 

“What can you tell me about those?” he asks, ignoring your question and just moving to another shelf. 

He keeps asking about items and you just make up everything as you go. Of course, you know some of the stuff, but you were never really a true chef in the kitchen, so there are way too many items you don’t know that much, but somehow, you’ve gathered enough confidence that even you believe what you say. 

Slowly, Harry fills his basket as you move through the store and every time you look at him you catch him already looking at you with the same smile you can’t quite decipher. 

“What about those?” he points up at a set of plates on the top shelf.

“Oh, those are so pretty! Let me show you them!” you enthuse and run to grab the ladder from the back. 

It’s not the steadiest tool for sure, but you ignore the wobble you feel when you start climbing it.

“Are you sure it’s–”

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” you chuckle, reaching the top step, but your knees are definitely shaking. You focus on grabbing the plates and getting off as fast as possible, but right when you take them off the shelf you already feel yourself losing balance. 

But Harry is quick to come to your rescue. One of his hands grabs the ladder to steady it and the other… the other one grabs the back of your thigh to help you hold yourself up. Until then you were shaking because of the ladder, but now it’s definitely because of his firm hold on you, the warmth of his touch and the thoughts that unrelease when you realize just how perfectly his fingers are digging into your flesh. 

“You good?” he asks in a deep, husky voice. 

“Yeah.” Your voice is barely more than just a whisper as you hold onto the plates as if they could hold you up. 

You start moving down on the ladder, but Harry’s hand doesn’t leave your body, it works up on your hips and waist, grabbing onto your elbow as you finally step onto the ground and even then, he is still touching you, his eyes locked on yours as you’re still holding those damn plates. The image of dropping them and pushing up against him flashes through your mind and your knees wobble again when you catch his gaze flickering down to your lips for a second. 

“The plates,” you blurt out then. He looks down and a smile stretches across his face.

“They really are pretty.”

“Right?” you let out a breathy laugh. 

“Now that you risked your life for them, I guess it’s only fair if I actually buy them.”

Fuck, your heart is about to jump right out of your chest, how is he so smooth?

You gather a few more things and then move to the cash register to ring everything up. 

“How long have you been working here?” he asks, patiently waiting for you to finish. 

“Um… Do you want the truth?” you ask, with a cheeky smile.

“Yeah.”

“This is my first day,” you admit, just as you finish the scanning and when you look at the amount it all added up to, you almost choke on your own saliva. “Um, your total is 1630.”

For a moment you think he’ll question how it’s so much, but without hesitation he whips out his card and taps it on the terminal.

“First day, huh?”

“You wouldn’t have guessed?”

“Oh, I kind of did,” he chuckles and he starts to help you with putting everything away in bags. “You really should learn what the items are used for.”

Normally you’d be embarrassed that he noticed how much you just made up, but the smile he is gifting you with vanishes all negative feelings and you can actually find it funny. 

“I will.”

“Thank you for your assistance,” he smirks, grabbing the bags from the counter. “And if I happen to leave a review about the excellent service, what name should I drop?” 

“I’m Y/N,” you say with a sheepish smile. He then sticks his hand out and you take it.

“Harry. It was really nice meeting you.”

“You too.”

With a final wave he turns around, slides his sunglasses back to the bridge of his nose and then walks out of the store. You stand there completely overwhelmed by the experience and you have no idea how much time passes by before Selma barges through the door.

“Hi Darling! How did everything go?” she beams, walking up to the counter where you’re still standing. 

“Great!”

“Did anyone come in?” 

“Yeah. Harry Styles was just here.” Selma freezes for a moment before looking up at you.

“Harry Styles? As in…”

“Yeah. That Harry Styles.”

“How did it go? Did he buy anything?”

“He spent 1600 dollars on kitchen stuff.”

“Y/N, that’s great!” Selma claps her hands. “Was he satisfied? Could you help him?”

“I think I could,” you say with a knowing smile. “He seemed… satisfied, yeah.”

The first day jitters are luckily gone by the next day, especially because Selma looked at you with so much pride after you told her about your encounter with Harry that you feel like you can’t do anything wrong. 

Before lunch Selma asks you to rearrange some stuff in the storage and you’re a bit relieved you don’t have to take any customers for now.

But because of that, you’re not out when one specific person walks into the shop. Again. 

Harry enters the store confidently, a smile already on his lips as he looks in the direction of the cash register, but it fades when he only sees Selma, but no sight of you. Selma, on the other hand, becomes ecstatic when she sees and recognizes him.

“Welcome! How may I help you?” she chirps, walking towards Harry, who is still looking around, eyes searching for you. 

“Hey, is the… Is the woman who worked yesterday here? Y/N?” Selma stops, surprised.

“Y/N? Uh, yes, but she is busy now, I’m sure I can help you–”

“I want her,” he states.

“She is still training, I’m sure I can–”

“Look,” Harry sighs. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Selma, the owner,” she states proudly.

“Selma, I’m more than happy to buy everything in this store if it means I get to talk to her. How does that sound?”

Selma stares back at him, finally understanding the situation. Her stance changes instantly.

“Let me go get her for you.”

You’re going over your list in the back when Selma appears, her spotless appearance feels odd in the storage room’s setting. 

“Oh, hey! I just finished with–”

“I need you outside.”

“What? Why?” Panic washes over you, because you can’t read her face and what could she possibly need you for outside on your second day?

“Just come. Now!” She turns around and heads out, not even checking if you’re following her. Of course you do.

“Selma, what did I–” you start mumbling behind her, but just when you step out and spot Harry at the cash register.

His face lights up the moment he sees you and those damn butterflies start raging in your stomach. 

“Harry, you’re here. Again,” you state the obvious. 

“I am,” he chuckles and you see Selma walk away from the corner of your eyes. 

“How, um–What can I… help you with?” you ask, clearing your throat. Why is he here? Could it be… because of you? Yesterday you definitely spent an awful lot of time daydreaming of the way he was touching you on that ladder and you’d be lying if you said you felt disappointed he just walked out, knowing you might never see him again. 

Well, so much for that.

“I forgot to get something yesterday.” 

“Oh,” is all you can say, the disappointment snaking back into your gut. He is not here because of you, how could you even think about that?

Harry’s smile widens as he watches your face drop and then he finally continues.

“Your number.”

Your eyes widen and you must look quite funny, because Harry chuckles at the sight of your expression. 

“Was this too straight forward?”

“No!” you snap right away, maybe a bit too eagerly. “Not at all.”

“Great, then…”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it over, you type your number in quickly and hand it over. He taps on the screen and a second later your phone starts buzzing in your back pocket.

“Just checking you didn’t give me a pizzeria’s number,” he jokes, making you laugh. “And… now that I’m conveniently here, maybe you can show me some more stuff.”

“What do you need?” you ask as the two of you head down one of the aisles. 

“Hmm, how long is your shift?”

“Um, another four hours,” you scoff.

“Then I guess I’m interested in everything. Whatever takes four hours to look at so I can take you out once you’re done.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[crushribbons]

ʜʏᴘᴏᴄʀɪᴛᴇ

summary: Alicent Hightower, queen of the realm, cannot sin alone.

cw: 1.3k words, SMUT (18+ ONLY), takes place late s1ish, alicent x chambermaid!reader, fingering, oral (both f!receiving), kind of toxic power abuse, religious undertones (for the vibes), fem!reader/oc. based off a prompt from my love @wedonthaveawhile whose brain is magic. requests open.

a/n: no research we die like lesbian servants!! xx laney

Rhaenyra and Alicent are nose to nose.

“The supposed parentage of my children is nothing but a rumor designed to discredit me,” Rhaenyra says, her teeth gritted together. “Designed, I believe, with intention, by Your Grace.”

The snort slips out of you before you have time to consider that it could be your last. King Viserys’ chosen heir whips around, a streak of lighting running through her stormy eyes.

“Beg pardon, Princess, I was merely coughing.” You curtsy low, with your eyes fixed hard on the stone floor. In your periphery, Rhaenyra turns back to face her stepmother.

Alicent’s gaze never falters, never falls from Rhaenyra’s. Her regal chin is raised in defiance and the fire backlights her auburn hair, making her personage glow in a way not of this earth. Your breathing falters as you watch hers remain even, measured.

She takes in a breath through her nose. “I will not see my children passed over for the throne for the false offspring of a woman who flouts duty and honor as if they mean nothing.” You busy yourself with turning down the queen’s duvet and placing warming pans at the foot of it, all the while straining your ear to hear the low anger seeping out of Alicent. “You have needlessly tainted a bloodline ten thousand years strong, one that I was expected to uphold without question or complaint. I have never faltered in my duty to your father,” she continues, and you notice Rhaenyra’s nostrils flaring, her lips pressing into a bloodless line.

And you have been a good queen, a noble queen, to us all! Beloved forever by the people of Westeros, to be sure! you want to cry. You do not, however, bound by your station to stay ever silent and unnoticed by the occupants of the Red Keep. You shrink yourself smaller into the shadows beside Alicent’s bed, watching. Alicent’s hands are clasped together, and something stirs inside you as you watch her knuckles whiten. She is so lithe, so elegant, her posture impeccable. The green dressing gown she wears shows off her narrow shoulders and you can’t help but feel the heft of fabric, ghostly, in your hands as you imagine pulling it off her. Shame shoots through your chest at the thought, while arousal hits lower.

Rhaenyra is speaking again, but her voice has lost some of its glass-sharp edge. “I will not speak of this anymore, Alicent—” You bite your tongue to stop yourself from speaking out of turn and instructing the ingrate princess to address her lady queen as “Your Grace” “—certainly not in the presence of such attentive ears.” The attentive ears turn red. Rhaenyra turns to you once more and calls, “Leave us.”

“Stay.”

You freeze. Alicent’s hand is raised, her soft palm pointing at you, but her eyes stay fixed on Rhaenyra. For a moment, all three women are suspended in indignation, anger, fear, and the only sound is the crackle of the fire. It sounds like Syrax, opening her maw wide to summon a pillar of destruction.

“Perhaps sleep…” The queen’s voice is softer than the pillow you don’t realize until that instant that you’ve been clutching. “Would be the most productive course, for now. You have traveled long, Princess.”

Rhaenyra looks as though she wants to say something, anything, to have spoken the last words between the two of them. She does not, however. With a final, searching look into Alicent’s eyes, the Targaryen sweeps out of the room, the heavy door slamming behind her. The candelabra flickers. Its wicks have burned too low.

Alicent does not move for several seconds, staring after the departed princess. It seems she can smell something in Rhaenyra’s wake, and it is not altogether unpleasant to her. Blood is rushing in your ears, and your fingertips are strangely numb. You open your mouth to speak, but your tongue weighs too much.

“You forget yourself too often.”

“I am sorry, Your Grace.”

“We must be more careful. Do not be so quick to defend me.”

“I cannot help it, Your Grace. She tells lies and besmirches the name of House Targaryen.”

“How can you dare to make such indictments against your future queen?”

Your knees are made of water. It feels like a trap. “You are my queen. My only.” Alicent, at last, looks at you, and it makes you sag onto the bed.  

Her head tips to one side. She regards you. “Mm. Very good.” 

She murmurs it again, but the second time, it’s said into your neck, her breath hot against your skin while her fingers work their way inside you and her naked frame presses you to the mattress. The bed is heavenly soft, softer than anything you’ve ever been allowed to sleep on in your life, but it’s nothing compared to her lips on yours. Her tongue laves across your bottom lip, sweet as honey. 

It’s so rare that she takes you in her bed; you almost feel elated. You never mind being with her elsewhere, though. She makes it hard to care about anything other than the sheer her that fills the room every time she enters. While Alicent takes both of your wrists in her left hand and moves over you to pin them to her headboard, her other hand never stopping its pumping in, out, in, her tits brush against your face and you feel no remorse for the wail she lets fly as you bite down on the curve of one. Your teeth dig in, a ragged moan tears out of her, and her bare cunt grinds down on the thigh she is straddling. She’s unbearably wet, and you can feel her clench against your leg as she breathes, “Once again.”

In, out, in. Long, elegant fingers, soft from a lifetime of gentility. Endless locks of hair flow down over her shoulders and down to her waist. She’s an angel, you’re sure now. “The princess is a liar. She flaunts her indiscretions, her lack of care for this noble house. She is shameless.”

Allicent releases your hands so she can move down and suck your clit between her lips, pushing her tongue inside you alongside her fingers. You’re so full of her, so put on display and arousal dripping down onto the royal sheets, that it makes you cover your eyes and groan. “Your Grace,” you weep, grabbing a handful of her loose curls. “Please, keep going, please.”

“Tell me what you think of her bastards,” she murmurs, pulling her lips away from your heat. Her free hand moves to your clit and rubs it, alternating between circles and light pushes that have you keening your hips desperately. You realize that forming words has become near impossible. 

You huff as the coil of pleasure inside you compresses itself. “She fucks anything that looks at her. Any commoner, any pathetic servant in her employ,” you whine. Your head covering is tossed over Allicent’s vanity, your apron on the ground. “Who knows if her children are even Ser Harwin’s? What is to stop her from lying about that, as well?” The queen is as pleased as you’ve ever seen her.

She uses her hand like a sword, sinking into you, the very picture of a conqueror. “You do wonderfully, my sweet, sweet girl. Come for me.” The command is said so mildly, so disinterested, you almost miss it over the roar of ecstasy in your ears. That coil implodes, and you arch your back off the bed with a hollow scream that you should pray can’t be heard throughout the castle. The only thing you have room to pray for, though, is that Alicent never stops moving inside you. That she never stops bedding you. That she never stops needing you to be her mirror. 

Hypocrisy is a sin, a septa who you knew when you were no more than eight years old whispers in your ear. Those who do in the darkness what they rail against in daylight.

You know she will start to feel the wash of shame soon, so you fight through the haze that your orgasm leaves behind. “Please, let me fuck you, my queen.”

masterlist

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

i've been having a couple of downer days recently, and i kept looking for a verse i haven't read thrice yet for some comfort, but you're age! gap verse has been a pleasant escape even though its not what i was looking for. you're writing never fails to make me feel better ari 💕💕

Here's how they met 💜

Bruce sighed. He was starting to hate talk show appearances, but at least this one had never been too bad. Angelique was chatty and fun but not grating. Her show ran as school let out. So grannies watched after their naps and kids watched getting off the bus. She ran a little something for everyone.

He assumed he was here for the grannies.

"I'm so sorry I'm late the shoot ran over and I couldn't get away."

The voice caught his attention. Not the fake starlet over dramatic gushing, but genuine distress. And he half turned to look. You looked like you came from a shoot. Straight off the pages of a glossy magazine.

"No worries, Miss Y/L/N we got your call in enough time. We'll just touch up your face and you'll be good to go," the manager greeting you, said.

Bruce smiled a little. Clearly, you were a frequent guest. You thanked him profusely and trotted off. Not needing to be told where to go. And as you go, there's several crew members you can greet by name. You've either been here a lot or worked with them before. Or both. But, it's endearing.

He turned back around listening to Angelique get her updates on where production was. "-And Y/N is in hair and makeup as we speak."

"Oh, bless her heart," Angelique said. "That's what I get calling her last minute." She turned to Bruce and held out her hand, "Are you ready?" she asked.

"As I'll ever be," he chuckled taking her hand, "You know these sorts of things aren't my forte. My oldest on the other hand-"

"Don't you worry about a thing," Angelique reassured him, patting the hand she was holding before letting it go. "Y/N is an old pro- Ah! speak of the devil!" She swooped over and kissed you on either cheek. "You look absolutely divine, is that one of yours?"

"You know it is," you tell her laughing, returning the gesture. "As if I could walk in and NOT wear my own design, you'd never let me live it down."

"So true. Darling," she said grabbing your hand and pulling you over to Bruce, "I want you to meet Bruce. You'll be on stage together today. You know it's charity week and I though it would be great to highlight all the work you do for school arts programs along side the Wayne foundation," she said.

"Hello," you tell him, holding out your hand.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, taking the hand you offered warmly. Giving you his most charming smile. You did look good. And he could tell they hadn't done much to your face or your hair. "I'm a big fan of your work," he commented.

Your smile didn't falter but your eyes narrowed slightly. And Bruce cringed internally Shit. She thinks I mean the Playboy spread, he thought. "Your last movie, the drama, especially. The range of emotion and the depth- It really was incredible."

"Thank you," you tell him. "It was challenging but I really enjoyed it."

Bruce felt his face heat when Angelique coughed and he remembered hearing that you had the ability to make someone feel like they were the only person in the room. He'd forgotten for just a second. In just that brief moment that he was waiting for an appearance. "It showed I uh- my kids made fun of me when I cried at the end-"

"Aww, Angelique gushed, "This is amazing. you guys keep up this chemistry. It'll go totally viral." She bounced on the balls of her feet and kissed your cheek again, "I'll have someone bring you a coffee, sweetie. You're going to start wilting soon."

And before you could say anything or Bruce could offer to go and get it for you himself, Angelique had bustled off to find and assistant to give marching orders to.

[foone]

Re: the Fagot anti-tank rocket, it reminds me of my favorite story of Soviet weapon design.

So, the Nazis were working in infrared homing missiles during WW2 but never completed any by the time the war ended (though they got close).

The Americans collected a lot of information on these systems, through spies and Operation Paperclip, and started work on their own guided air-to-air missile: the AIM-9 Sidewinder.

They worked on it from 1946 to 1955, when it was operationally complete and authorized for mass production.

The first time they got used was the Second Taiwan Strait Crisis, in 1958. The Taiwanese air force was flying American F-86 Sabres, vs China's MiG-17s. The MiG-17 outclassed the F-86s, flying over them so high the Sabres couldn't hope to hit them, and then they could swoop down and attack when they had the advantage.

So the US decided to help out: they secretly helped Taiwan modify their F-86s with the new heat seeking missile, and provided something like a dozen of the missiles to use again the MiG-17s.

On the 24th of September, the F-86s engaged the MiG-17s with the new missiles, surprising them with the ability to attack when the MiG-17s were supposedly outside the operational range of the F-86s, shooting some planes down. This was the first use of guided air to air missiles in combat.

Four days later, there was another skirmish, and an F-86 shot an AIM-9 Sidewinder into a MiG-17... And it didn't explode.

The MiG-17 made it back to base, with the groundbreaking new missile type never before seen in the history of warfare, and it was mostly intact. The Soviets convinced the Chinese to send them the missile, and within two years they had developed the Vympel K-13: a clone of the AIM-9 Sidewinder.

The US took the best of Nazi scientists weapon development, then spent over a decade developing a never before seen super-weapon that would change air combat forever... And one of the first DOZEN fired ended up embedded in plane, unexplored, and then delivered to their greatest enemy.

They might as well just have mailed the schematics to the Kremlin. And I think that's hilarious.

[nimrochan]

I don’t think that my few handfuls of followers on various social media accounts realize that I’m an American-Israeli. I’ve been watching things unfold and staying silent for the most part. I know it’s very easy to have an opinion from the comfort and safety of my home, but too many people are also echoing online opinions without enough information or thought behind them. Although it’s fair to say that I’m biased, I think it’s important to view conflicts from multiple perspectives. Including and especially from someone from the actual region/culture that everyone outside of it suddenly has an opinion on. And I think I’m ready to say what I wanted to say:

Why aren’t people more angry with Hamas?

I’ve spent some childhood years in Israel. Every week on the news was another incident - a bus b*mbing, a car b*mbing, a s*icide b*mber… I remember being terrified of getting on buses, or going to public places. I remember soldiers standing at the entrance of every mall, and I remember hearing how one soldier died while stopping a s*icide b*mber at a mall entrance - both were women in their early 20’s. Until today my father tells me to avoid crowded places, and to always stand in a corner with my back on the wall to observe my surroundings.

When I moved to America I had moved on from these memories and didn’t really think about them. But the attacks never stopped. For DECADES. And over the last few years I did notice that very few non-Jewish Americans were aware of what life is like in Israel - having a barrage of rockets rain on you every once in a while. Having alerts to warn you to head to the nearest shelter. Israel has the protection of the Iron Dome. But it’s not perfect, and some rockets do hit their targets. Also, you know, maybe people shouldn’t be firing rockets unprovoked into another country?? (Don’t even get me started on Hezbollah, too.) No one bats an eye if other countries randomly shoot rockets into Israel, but as soon as Israel retaliates to try destroying the area where rockets come from, everyone comes out of the woodwork to condemn them.

Some of my American family members have an app that dings every time rockets are fired into Israel. I could never bring myself to download it. The number of dings drives me crazy.

In fact, if you ever wanted to buy a piece of jewelry or sculpture made of Hamas rockets, there are businesses upcycling them.

If you’re not from Israel, I just want you to imagine the number of rockets that regularly have to come into your country for any rockets-to-products businesses to even exist. For reasons beyond my comprehension, a lot of political parties in America want to defund the Iron Dome, a system designed solely for defense. But I digress.

Gazans never had an Iron Dome and yet Hamas gives no regard to the lives of their own people when they fire openly from homes, schools, hospitals. When they hide hostages and weapons in heavily populated areas.

I remember frantically texting and calling people on 10/07 to see if any of my family members were harmed or killed in the attack. All while anti-Zionists already rallied on social media to offer no sympathy and blame the attack on the Jews on, the Jews. Right. Luckily, whatever close family I had in the area was far away enough from the attack that they were spared, and they soon evacuated. My second cousin and her kids were only spared because they happened to be away, but their home was in ashes and their friends and neighbors were dead.

Israel is a small and close-knit country. I don't have words to describe how we grieved. 1200 innocent civilians sl*ughtered for no reason. That number is just a little under half of the number of deaths on 9/11, and it was done without the help of airplanes, just men running around killing people. The youngest one was 14 hours old. This is the largest m*rder of Jews since the Holocaust. I won’t even go into detail about how some of their bodies were mutilated because it’s too horrific for me to want to type it out. In fact I left the most disturbing footage out of this post. I had been avoiding seeing the footage of Shani Louk, but it was shown at the exhibit too and I’ll never be able to forget it for as long as I live. It made me sick to my stomach.

Look at the pictures. Look at all those shoes. The last time I felt such powerful emotion staring at shoes was at a Holocaust museum. A lot of item displays included their owners’ smart phones showing their final videos on a loop. The people who attend the Nova festival tend to be laid-back, free spirits. They show up covered in glitter and wearing fairy-wings, waving rainbow flags. They lived next to Gaza because they felt safe there, and they often supported Palestinians. Listen to the unhindered joy in the voice of the man calling his father to tell him he had m*rdered ten Jews. One of the most disgusting parts of this is the fact that people protested outside this exhibit as well.

When I brought myself to browse social media again, over and over I saw posts about how “they deserved it” and “they had it coming.” The same people, the same self-proclaimed “feminists” who would shared the #MeToo and #YesAllWomen hashtags, people with immensely large followings, were now having no sympathy for the Israeli women who were r*ped, basically saying “she asked for it.” People defending and excusing Hamas because they “weren’t created in a vacuum.” When did we start excusing r*pe and t*rrorism for ANY reason? On that note, don’t you think Israel’s aggressive defense of itself also stems from a historical reason, shaped by outside forces?

And then there are many voices still expressing plain denial! This was the most well-documented t*rrorist attack in history, because the attackers filmed it with pride, and yet over and over I also saw people posting about how “it never happened,” “they would never do that,” and how these t*rrorists were just “resistance fighters” with propaganda crafted to “make them look bad.”

In my home state of New York, I saw people marching wearing same types of scarves that these “resistance fighters” wore to commit crimes against humanity so recently, tearing down posters of Israeli hostages instead of hanging their own posters on innocent killed Gazans and sharing in the grief.

I see people over and over calling Israelis “white colonists,” when in fact MOST OF THEM ARE BROWN, dark-skinned just like their neighbors (if I showed you photos of my family in Israel, you'd be surprised to learn they aren't Arabic). We are an ethnic minority on this planet and in every country except Israel, but antisemites love to flip the script and paint us as majority white colonizer oppressors. When the majority of Americans calling for the abolishment of Israel are themselves actually living on colonized land (I mean, really?) When most of North Africa has been colonized by Arab populations, yet everyone seems to conveniently forget that. Most alarmingly, I see people marching the streets and praising Hamas and the actual 10/07 attacks.

These same people probably could never spot Gaza on a map before 10/07. Where were they for the Chinese Uyghurs? Where were they for the mass murdered Syrians? For Afghans left at the mercy of the Taliban? For Iraqis killed after 9/11? For Darfur? Because no news unless Jews, right? How can you say you care about Muslims and then praise Hamas? How can you be Pro-Palestine and Pro-Hamas at the same time?! There is a huge, sick problem in America when college students here are applauded by overseas t*rrorist leaders on goddamn Twitter.

And these “Queers for Palestine”- where is the support for the gayest, most feminist, and most liberal country in the Middle East? (Go ahead and look up which country in the Middle East holds annual Pride Parades.) Where is the support for the millions of Arab-Israelis and other non-Jews who call Israel their home? Where is the support for the Arabs and non-Jews also killed on 10/07? Where are the feminists using their voices to demand Hamas return the hostages that are very likely being r*ped as I type this?

I feel like I’m going crazy telling people that there is a lot of fake news and propaganda being spread by Hamas and eaten up by the West. I am not the kind of person to use the phrase “fake news.” But when I see some extreme footage allegedly showing the IDF doing something especially horrible, I count the hours or days before the news is silently retracted because it turned out to be incorrect. Propaganda against Jews has seeped so far into gentile culture over the decades that people don't even realize it. It’s become sickeningly casual and normalized in all kinds of circles. Hell, I don’t even know who to vote for or who secretly wants me dead - the left side with the pro-Hamas crowd or the right side with their white supermacists .

No, I am not denying that a lot of innocent Gazans are dying horrific deaths. When I see footage of injured Palestinian children, I don’t look away and pretend it doesn’t happen, because it does. But what about Hamas dressing up as civilians, firing weapons among civilians, and continuing to hide the hostages??? What about the 15-17 year old brainwashed children marching with guns? When is enough enough? You know which army doesn’t hide in civilian clothing, or recruit children, or parade naked dead women around after they’ve killed them?? Take a guess.

War is fucking awful. And I'm not trying to justify it, just trying to articulate why this is such a clusterfuck of a situation. Someone please name any other country that wouldn’t retaliate and demand their hostages back after such an ugly, unprovoked attack. Someone please explain to me why the hatred is so intense and out of proportion. Again, DECADES of attacks. Someone please tell me what should be done - because if you do nothing, then 10/07 happens over and over and over again. Israelis are all living, breathing people with families just like Gazan civilians are. Stop dehumanizing us.

Why is it that after the Ukraine-Russia war started, when most westerners were on Ukraine’s side (including myself so don’t jump down my throat), that individual Russians living in western countries did not feel threatened the way individual Jews are being threatened? That war actually seems a way more black-and-white situation to me. Why did the Israeli singer for Eurovision need presidential-level protection from the mob gathered outside her hotel? Why did the other contestants continually insult her? You think every single Jew on the planet has a say in what happens in Israel?

Why am I going on social media to dumb down, only to see posts like “Reblog to increase IDF soldier s*icides” and “Like to # CeaseFire” and “From the river to the sea” (that expression basically means to promote the killing of all Israelis, I don’t care how you look at it). Why are you trying to call a cease fire with t*rrorists who are known to constantly break ceasefire, then make a surprised Pikachu face when they do it again?

Anti-Zionism is a clever cover for anti-semitism. The very definition of Zionism is the pursuit of an independent Jewish state (of which there is currently only ONE - for comparison, there are 57 Muslim countries). A lot of people don’t even know what Zionism is when they call themselves Anti-Zionist. And if you do? Most Jews are Zionist. You can’t separate semitism from Zionism to make yourself feel better. Israel is such a tiny country, it takes 6 hours to drive end-to-end across the longest part. While all over the world, synagogues are being threatened, Jewish graveyards are being vandalized, and Jews are being attacked, you are absolutely telling me and my people that we don’t deserve a safe space. And yes, Jews are indigenous to the Middle East just like Arabs are.

How do people rally against discrimination, but in the same breath act like discrimination towards Jews doesn’t count? You can’t reason your way out of it. You do not get to tell me what is and isn’t antisemitic.

Hamas does NOT give a damn about the actual land that Jews are living on. Hamas’s ultimate goal is to kill all Jews (it's LITERALLY spelled out in their government charter), is that what people want?? And even if you deny it, you think you could theoretically move all 8 million Jews out of Israel to where exactly?

You think other countries want to welcome a mass migration of 8 million Jews? (Remember why Jews left in the first place?) You want literal t*rrorists to have a stronger foothold in the Middle East?

Why do the surrounding countries condemn Israel, yet not step up to help Gazans either? Why won’t they open up their borders?

I’m sick and tired of people who have zero stake in the Middle East and very little knowledge just jumping on the bandwagon and virtue-signaling like it’s some clear black-and-white situation when it’s not. And then having the nerve to lecture ME. I’m angry and I’m frustrated.

Bring them the fuck home.

[henrycavilledits]

He may not be playing a superhero anymore, but it turns out that Henry Cavill is a real-life Superman on set.

Witcher star was so dedicated to his final series of the show that he ended up doing ‘100 percent’ of his stunts on his own.

If that wasn’t impressive enough, he even helped to craft some of the incredible fight sequences on the Netflix show.

Given that he’s a huge fan of the books and games, it’s unsurprising that Cavill would be so heavily involved in the production of the adaptation.

Even as he was gearing up to leave The Witcher though, the actor’s passion for the series never dulled and he became like a ‘second fight coordinator’ – according to crew member, Wolfgang Stegemann.

The stunt coordinator revealed that he and the Man of Steel actor would sit together and plan how to film the fight sequences during season three.

Describing the A-Lister as ‘a hard, hard worker’, Stegemann said the actor constantly trained to master the skills to play the grumpy Geralt of Rivia. He added: “What many people don’t know, they think the stunt team comes together and we start choreographing something and show it to him. It's not like that. He's, from the beginning, there and giving all his input.”

Stegemann even explained that the 40-year-old was ‘deeply involved’ in designing shots, saying: “It's not just having a fight, it's how we shoot this fight. Henry and I basically sit together on the monitor and we hold the cameras and go through the fight to find the right angles, the right movements. And, yeah, it's incredible.”

Having already been injured on season two, Cavill still went ahead with the complex choreography and did ‘100 per cent’ of his own stunts on set - as if you couldn’t his love work ethic anymore! ─ via UNILAD

HENRY CAVILL THE WITCHER SEASON 3 ─ Fight Scenes

[lizordula]

Make Up Your Mind

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Summary: You're a makeup artist working for the documentary crew. On Halloween, you learn that Melissa's specialties include costumes and looking hot, among other things.

Warnings: mention of clowns

Word Count: ~2.1k

A/N: I've been sitting on this for a while, but I figured today would be a good day to post it. Happy Halloween! Lemme know if you'd be interested in a pt. 2 ^^

AO3 Link

"Places, people."

The director clapped his hands, shooing the camera crew around to take their designated places for the recording of the talking heads.

The halls at Abbott Elementary were buzzing with the Halloween spirit. Walls were elaborately decorated with spider webs, pumpkins littered every surface, and students and staff members had dressed up to the nines. Even the documentary crew spontaneously decided to film in costumes, and so it happened that there were quite literally a bunch of clowns operating the camera equipment.

You weren't sure, though, if those costumes had been the best choice for an elementary school. Turns out, a group of clowns lurking around every corner and running after staff members had a rather adverse effect on children. Not even one lesson in, and you had to console at least five crying students.

Well, and Jacob, who held up production by rambling about a janitor ghost for a good while.

On short notice, you weren't able to organize a suitable costume for yourself, so you were the only crew member in regular clothes. Makeup bag slung over your shoulder, you stood awkwardly to the side and waited for a certain second-grade teacher to show up for her touch-up. Your right foot bounced up and down excitedly at the prospect of seeing her again after the weekend.

The first time you met Melissa, she refused to let you anywhere near her face or hair, almost offended by the implication that something about her needed fixing. You respected her boundaries and said that she would know where to find you when - not if - she changed her mind. The following week, she begrudgingly had to give in to your offer.

Apparently, Janine had broken into the breaker to fix the flickering lights but ended up causing a school-wide power outage. You had to stifle your laughter when Melissa had trudged up to you before shooting, fixing you with a fierce glare that told you to spare her your 'I told you so'. She looked as if she had broken into the electrical current herself, the way her hair was all frizzed and tousled up. Her makeup hadn't fared too well either because of the sweat she had worked up during the sprint to her branzini.

The branzini didn't make it, unfortunately. But you were able to tame Melissa's red locks and, apparently, didn't do a too bad job on her makeup either, if her approving nod after she viewed herself in her phone's front camera was any indication.

After that, Melissa started warming up to you, and you sensed her respect for your work growing. But what really won her over were your compliments. You were never stingy with compliments when working on people and didn't have any ulterior motives when you complimented Melissa's hair or her eyes. However, you had to admit that she was very much your type and that you enjoyed flustering her.

To your surprise, Melissa not only returned your compliments in kind but started flirting with you as well. From then on, your comfortable banter before each interview became routine. Sometimes Melissa brought you a coffee, and if you coincidentally had a spare after she had mentioned how much she liked a product, you would gift it to her.

You couldn't deny that you had become infatuated with Melissa Schemmenti, but with the limited time you had with her before the interviews and your colleagues constantly listening in, you always backed out of making a move on her.

You were brought back from your reverie when you spotted Melissa turning the corner. Your eyes widened when your eyes roved over the redhead's costume. She was wearing a form-fitting red bodysuit with pink tights, which beautifully accentuated her hourglass figure, and a flowy red cape and headpiece finished the unmistakable look of the Scarlet Witch.

While you were ogling her, Melissa searched for you amid the bustle of the documentary crew. It wasn't hard to spot you as you stood out like a sore thumb among the camera clown posse. Her lips quirked upward when she noticed how you were already staring at her and not so subtly checking out her costume. Your obvious appreciation for her costume made Melissa stand straighter and puff out her chest as she sauntered over to you, a smile spreading on her face when you locked eyes.

"Hey, hon. No costume?"

"Nope, didn't have one appropriate for an elementary school," you replied with a chuckle, grabbing Melissa by her elbow and leading her to the side of the corridor. You rummaged around in your bag in search of her powder shade and a brush and faced her again.

"What, as in too sexy?" she grinned, crossing her arms. Your gaze flickered briefly to her cleavage being pushed up by the movement.

"No, as in 'the kids would shit their pants in fear'," you snorted, dabbing the powder across Melissa's t-zone in practiced motions. Melissa spluttered when you deliberately brushed over her lips to wipe off her smug grin. You smirked and took out a comb and the hairspray next, signaling Melissa to close her eyes.

"Besides, if sexy is inappropriate, you didn't get the memo," you continued slyly, emboldened by the fact that you didn't have to look Melissa in the eyes while you said it. When you finished, she opened her eyes and looked you up and down curiously, ready to retort, but she was interrupted by a loud groan from the director.

"Oh god, not again. Why isn't this recording?"

Melissa and you turned toward the commotion, observing multiple people scurrying around the camera equipment. Their attempts to fix the problem by pushing different buttons and adjusting cables were completely foreign to you, but this hadn't been the first time the camera malfunctioned, so you knew you had some time to waste.

"That'll probably take a minute. Want me to spruce up your makeup?" you asked, waggling your eyebrows at Melissa.

"Sure, as long as you don't turn me into a killer clown. We have 'nough of those running around," Melissa replied, playfully rolling her eyes.

"Honey, with that face? I could never," you drawled and took Melissa's hand, dragging her to the nearby supply closet where the crew stored their excess equipment. Melissa closed the door behind her and sat against a desk, her eyes glued on your behind as you bent over to retrieve something from another bag.

Her head snapped up when you turned around with some brushes, a lipstick, and an eyeshadow palette and joined Melissa at the desk. Normally, she was a bit taller than you, but thanks to her position, you were a few inches above her for a change. Melissa held eye contact as she slowly spread her legs so you could position yourself comfortably between her thighs, watching your reaction with a raised brow. You gulped at the display and hesitantly drew closer, body heating up at this newfound proximity.

"Close your eyes," you ordered hoarsely, your hand tightly gripping the eyeshadow brush, hovering it in front of Melissa's face. Melissa stared at you a moment longer with a smirk, enjoying seeing you squirm between her legs, but it was her turn to blush when you took her chin between your thumb and pointer finger, angling her head slightly to the left. Your lips quirked upward when you saw Melissa swallow hard.

Two could play this game.

For the next few minutes, your breathing was the only sound in the room while you painted a simple red crease on Melissa's eyelids. It was a comfortable silence. Your mind constantly wandered to the fact that Melissa and you were alone for the first time, secluded in a storage room, away from the documentary crew's prying eyes. A blush spread on your cheeks when you thought about how it might look to the crew if Melissa and you left the supply closet together.

You hoped to God that the blush wouldn't show on your face when you tapped Melissa's thigh lightly, signaling her to open her eyes again. You stopped her with a hand on her forearm before she could get out her phone to view the results.

"Wait, I still need to add the finishing touch," you said and leaned over the redhead to exchange the palette and brush for the lipstick you deposited on the table earlier. Melissa's heart started pounding away when your chests brushed together. Her hands instinctively reached out, resting on your hips to steady you. When you leaned back again, Melissa's hands remained.

You looked from Melissa's hands to her eyes pointedly, lips curling into a smile despite yourself, and Melissa grinned, squeezing your hips briefly to remind you that you had a job to do. Clearing your throat to refocus, you gently grabbed Melissa's jaw to keep her in place. She watched with bated breath as you uncapped the lipstick with your other hand and brought it closer to her lips.

While you were focused on applying the bright red lipstick to plush lips, Melissa's gaze traveled over your face, mesmerized by the way your brows furrowed in concentration or how you bit your lower lip as your hand lightly squeezed her jaw. When you were done, you swiped along the edge of her lower lip with your thumb, wiping away any smudges left behind by the lipstick. You locked gazes with Melissa as you did, suddenly aware of how you were mere inches apart. Your thumb brushed softly over her lower lip, and you thought about how easy it would be to lean in and steal a kiss. But you willed yourself to pull away.

"All done," you announced and let your hands fall to Melissa's thighs. Her hands lifted from your hips as she grabbed her phone to regard herself in the front camera. Your stomach fluttered when her face broke into a smile as she took in the red eyeshadow and lipstick perfectly complimenting her costume.

"I love it. Thank you, hon," Melissa breathed, gazing at you affectionately.

"I'm glad you like it. Oh, and take this. You can reapply it throughout the day," you added, handing her the lipstick you painted her lips with.

"No, I- You already gave me that concealer last week, and I-" Melissa started, but you interrupted her with a squeeze of her thighs.

"Melissa, I gave you those things because I wanted to. Please take it," you insisted. Melissa nodded sheepishly and took the lipstick from you, stuffing it inside her bra.

You glanced at the door, lip caught between your teeth.

By now, the crew had probably fixed the problem. It was time to head back out again, however, you didn't want the moment to end. This had been probably the longest time you had spent with Melissa and the first time you were alone, and you figured that if your flirting would ever amount to something, you had to make up your mind and take a chance now.

However…," you began and took a deep breath, bracing yourself for a long overdue leap of faith. "If you want to repay me, you could be my plus one at this Halloween party at Woody's tonight."

You wrung your hands nervously while Melissa blinked at you a few times, the silence seemingly stretching forever. Long enough to make you wonder whether you misjudged the situation. You took your hands from Melissa's thighs and moved to put some space between Melissa and you, but before you could step back, she grabbed you by your forearm, pulling you back toward her.

"I would like that," she smiled, brushing her thumb over your wrist.

"Uh, great," you exclaimed when Melissa's words sunk in, "it's a date. I'll text you the time and address."

Melissa nodded, and for a moment, you both stood grinning at each other, holding onto each other's hands. When you remembered that you should probably bring Melissa back, you stepped back slowly, holding onto her hand until you had to break apart, and turned around to sort away your makeup equipment. When you faced Melissa again, she was already holding the door for you.

You stopped in the doorframe next to the redhead, giving her costume a very slow, appreciative once over, and cast her a smouldering look.

"And wear this."

━━━

"Oh, I love Halloween. Best holiday by far. Disguises, crime, lookin' hot? These are my specialties," Melissa told the camera, hand propped on her hip. Her eyes flickered to you, then, and her smirk grew. The crew was none the wiser about the silent exchange between the two of you.

You shot her a wink before she left for class. A promise that you would be exploring at least one of those specialties tonight.

[smolwritingchick]

You Left Jennie Too!!

Ok, this was requested to write the scenario where J-Hope was left at the store by the members for a prank during Bon Voyage 4 and came to realize Jennie (OC) wasn't with them. She can always take a joke but I wanted to put a little spin on her reaction to being left behind with Hobi. Like always, the finished product when I get to this chapter may vary!! :) Hope you like the silliness!

----------

"Okay, thank you. Bye," J-Hope told the cashier and stepped outside, only to realize none of the vehicles were there. "What? Did they run off?"

He looked around and walked, confused before turning to the staff. "They really just left? They really left us, here? They actually left? They left?"

'He can't believe it.'

"Seriously? Are they crazy?" he laughed.

Back to the guys, Jin continued to drive while Taehyung sat in the passenger's seat and Suga sat in the back.

"Should we really keep going?" Jin asked.

'It was your idea, Jin.'

"You guys are awful," Suga said as he looked out the window.

"How far should we go?" Jin wondered as he laughed with Taehyung.

With Jungkook who was driving the camper van, Jimin started cracking up about the situation while RM sat in the passenger seat.

"I can't believe we actually left," he said in a fit of giggles.

"Poor J-Hope," RM added over his laughter. "I feel bad. He must be really worried,"

'A True Friend.'

"We're sorry, J-Hope!" Jungkook said.

Back with J-Hope, he continued to walk around, upset that he and Jennie got left. The camera periodically showed Jennie still in the store, oblivious to what was going on as she was happily talking to an employee about Nike when she noticed their sneakers were a part of her Nike collaboration.

"Do you like them?" she grinned happily.

"Love them! They're so comfortable! That's awesome that you made these. The design is pretty," the lady beamed.

Back with J-Hope, he continued to wander, still staying close to where the store was so he wouldn't abandon Jennie. 

'He still can't believe they actually left them,'

"I can't believe this. Did they forget about us or did they just leave?" he asked the staff.

'They left to get you on candid camera.'

Suddenly, he took out his phone to dial Jimin's number.

"Hang on, J-Hope is calling. Should I answer it?" RM asked on a walkie once Jungkook parked somewhere.

However, Jimin answered the call before RM could get an answer from Jin. 

"Hello?" Jimin asked.

"Hey! Why did you leave me!?" Hobi exclaimed.

"Hyung!" 

"Hey! Why did you leave me?"

"What? We didn't know you weren't in the car!" he tried to play the part of being confused.

"What do you mean!?" he shouted while Jimin laughed.

'His rage can be heard over the phone!'

"You left Jennie, too!" J-Hope announced, making the car go silent.

It took 2.5 seconds for the news to register with the boys as they all froze.

"Oh shi—shoot!" RM quickly dialed Taehyung's number in alarm.

"Yeah, Hyung?" Taehyung answered.

"J-Hope is upset and he wasn't the only person we left. We also left Jennie," he announced with fear.

Taehyung almost dropped his phone at the news. "We left Jennie?!"

"Smartie wasn't with them?!" Yoongi sat up straight, feeling uneasy as he and Jin froze.

"You left my precious Jennie!?" Jin exclaimed.

"Us!? I thought she was with you! YOU left her! This was your idea!" RM cried.

"We thought she was with you! Why didn't you confirm!?" 

"Why didn't YOU confirm!? Ah...I feel even more bad. I bet she's freaking out, too,"

Back with Jimin, he was still shooked that Jennie was left behind while J-Hope continued to go off on the phone.

"How could you do this to us, Jimin?!"

While the boys were freaking out, the shot transitioned back to Jennie who was still shopping around the store. At the register, she paid for her items and walked out with a bag, noticing J-Hope who looked distressed.

"Hey, you good?" she asked.

"They left us," he frowned.

"Huh? Left us? You mean they're gone!?"

"Yeah, I'm on the phone with Jimin. They literally left us without warning,"

"They did what?!" she immediately frowned. "Yeah no. Uh! Uh! Not on my watch,"

He watched as she took her phone out and began to dial a number.

'Miss Bangtan is upset!'

"Oh, man. They are in for it now," He glanced at the camera with an amused smile, knowing she was about to handle things.

He decided to sit back and watch the chaos unfold, happy he wasn't on the receiving end of this.

--------

Jungkook's phone began to ring, catching the attention of him and RM. The caller ID showed that Jennie was calling and he looked at it with horror.

"H-Hyung, I'm driving. You answer it!" Jungkook quickly blurted out, beginning to drive again as an excuse.

"Hell no!" RM immediately refused.

"Jimin! Answer the call, please!" Jungkook called out.

"No way, I'm answering that!" he quickly refused. 

"Are you two serious!?" Jungkook complained.

"She's calling YOU! Answer your girlfriend's phone call!" RM reminded.

"Yeah, it's not even our phone she's calling!" Jimin added.

"Th-that doesn't mean I have to answer it! I'm driving!"

"You want to make her angrier? You're on your own," RM replied.

After a few rings, Jungkook let out a curse and anxiously answered the call, putting it on speaker.

He gulped. "Hey, babe! You're on speaker,"

"Jeon Jungkook," she called out his full name, making his stomach drop.

His face turned into fear as he stuttered. "Y—yes, honey?"

"Why are you answering on the fourth ring?" she demanded in a stern voice.

"I-I-I was looking for my phone—"

"I-I-I-Bull-fucking-shit. Why are you stuttering?" she asked as the show bleeped out her cussing.

He cringed while RM and Jimin silently laughed in the background.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Stay on the line. I'm calling Jin so we can all be on the phone," she said and went to dial him up.

With Jin and the others, his phone began to ring and he widened his eyes. 

"Oh no, Jennie is calling," he laughed nervously.

"Good luck!" Taehyung laughed.

He hesitantly answered after a few rings, putting her on speaker and now they were all on a three way call so she could speak to all of them.

"I am going to ask this one time and I better get a direct answer. Whose idea was this?" she demanded. 

"Jin Hyung—"

"ME!?" Jin shouted at Jungkook putting him on the spot. 

"He thought of the prank!" The Golden Maknae put him on blast. "It was all him!"

"Yet you agreed," she reminded. "And so did everybody else,"

That caused the rest of the members to shift uncomfortably. She then called them all out for being just as responsible as the drivers.

"We didn't know you weren't with us!" Taehyung tried to reason.

"You left J-Hope! How could you do that to him?!" she shouted, making them flinch at her tone.

"L-listen I felt bad about it!" RM tried to explain.

"Kim Namjoon," she called out sternly, making him cringe and answer her. "Kim Seokjin. Min Yoongi. Park Jimin. Kim Taehyung. Jeon Jungkook,"

As she called their names in a serious tone, scaring them, they each nervously answered her.

"You have approximately 180 seconds to pick us back up or I will give you all something to cry about when we stop filming for today," she announced, causing them all to scramble and freak out.

'3 minutes to return!?'

The members began overlapping over one another to apologize as both drivers turned their vehicles around to head in their direction.

"180 seconds!? Smartie, be reasonable—" Yoongi exclaimed.

"Did I stutter?!" she snapped angrily, cutting him off.

'Jennie is enraged!'

"No, ma'am," he gulped and remained quiet.

"Th-that's not enough time! Please, we're sorry!" Jimin pleaded.

"180 seconds! Do you hear me? 180," she announced with no room for objection.

"Wait! Wait! There's some upcoming traffic—"

"170...169...168..." she began counting down, terrifying them even more.

After she hung up, the camera showed her laughing with Hobi, revealing she wasn't as angry as she sounded.

'Prank within a prank! Great acting skills by Jennie!'

"Now that's how you switch around a prank," she giggled and high fived him. "Let's see how long I keep this up for,"

Hobi giggled as he turned to the camera. "You guys are in trouble~!" 

[flufffilleddonut]

Triangulum Experimentum - Part 2

Summary - With the portal’s construction finally complete, Bill decides to seek his revenge on Ford for the events of their previous meeting.

Word Count - 1580

-

Stanford Pines once again found himself in the mindscape. While his body was fast asleep in his shack, his consciousness roamed the space-like void in his mind.

As usual, Ford was joined in this place by his muse, Bill Cipher. Unlike their last meeting, however, the two were not working on the portal, as it had finally been fully constructed.

“Fiddleford and I are going to be testing it tomorrow!” Ford chimed, picking up a blue teacup with a large eyeball design on the side. One six-fingered hand held the saucer below, while the other grabbed onto the cup’s handle.

“Can’t wait until it's up and running.” Bill said, his true intentions still unknown to the other.

“Me neither, especially after working on it for so long.” Ford commented, taking a sip of his tea.

You have no idea, Bill thought to himself, reflecting on his many failed attempts throughout history to have people build the portal.

Bill looked at Ford and scrunched his eye up in a smirk. Luckily, he had found the right person eventually. Someone with the smarts to build the portal. Someone with a strong enough desire to feel special that Bill’s praise had garnered his trust. Bill knew that his newest puppet was made of pure ego. He was practically putty in Bill’s hands, and-

Bill’s train of thought ceased. He suddenly remembered his last visit with Ford, and the events that had unfolded. Bill hadn’t pursued revenge, as he didn’t want to jeopardize the portal’s production. However, the portal was now complete. All he needed was for someone to turn it on. Much simpler of a task.

“Hey, Sixer, I almost forgot. Remember our last meeting, particularly the second half of it?”

Ford choked slightly on his tea. Shoot, he was hoping Bill had forgotten. 

“I-I do.”

“You never told me about your susceptibility to body spasms.”

“W-well, I uh-” Ford began, quickly noticing that Bill was now floating towards him. He grew more frantic. “I-I don’t… that’s not a… I’ve always…”

“Having trouble with your words there, Fordsy?” Bill stopped directly in front of Ford, placing his hands on his sides.

Before Ford could respond, two blue chains sprung up on either side of him, snapping closed around his wrists.

Ford yelped at the sudden motion, letting go of his tea cup, which floated off into the distance. He examined the chains snugly keeping his arms at a 45° angle from his body. 

“What are these made of?”

“Not important!” Bill asserted, raising his hands and wiggling his fingers. “Now, where should I start?”

As Bill began to encircle Ford, he tapped into his thoughts.

He better not figure out just how ticklish I am, or I may be in trouble. I should try to keep my reactions to a minimum. Oh jeez, he’s getting awfully close to my neck.

Bill tapped out. Bingo.

Ford had drawn in towards himself as much as he could, a nervous smile creeping onto his face. 

“Bill, don’t you think this is a little…silly?” He inquired.

Instead of responding, Bill suddenly stopped moving. Ford shut his eyes in anticipation.

…

Nothing. Ford opened his eyes, but Bill was nowhere to be found.

As Ford was becoming increasingly confused, he felt a sudden poke at the back of his neck. Half as a fear response and half due to the sensation now rippling through his neck, Ford squealed, lurching forwards.

Hearing giggles from behind, Ford twisted his head around to view the smug-looking triangle. Bill’s arm was still raised, a single finger extended from his hand.

“I gotcha, didn’t I?”

Ford reddened slightly, a smile materializing on his face.

“Yes, you got me.” He admitted, facing forwards.

Bill pressed his finger against Ford’s neck once more, this time keeping it there. He carefully observed Ford’s reaction, taking note of the ever-so-slight shaking from his body.

Bill began to drag his finger up and down, watching as the shaking got more intense. Ford bit down on his lip.

Growing bored from the lack of a major reaction, Bill brought his other hand up to Ford’s neck, as well. Positioning his hands on either side, Bill fluttered all eight of his fingers against the surface.

Ford began to break.

“Hngh-! Snrk-! Heh! Bihihill!”

“Sorry, Sixer! I’m not used to this type of tor-” He stopped himself, “... ‘game,’ but don’t worry! I’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

Bill sped up his fingers, digging into Ford’s neck with little hesitation.

Ford could no longer stifle his reaction.

“Nohohoho! Bihihill! Stahahap!” He laughed, scrunching up his shoulders.

“You can hide but you can't escape~” Bill sang out, continuing his attack.

Ford shook his head from side to side, attempting to avoid Bill’s small, nimble fingers.

Bill, deciding to switch to a spot with easier access, slowed his hands to a stop.

“Having fun, Fordsy?” He teased as Ford was catching his breath.

Bill tapped into Ford’s thoughts once more, this time being presented with a memory: Stan and Ford getting into a scuffle as children, ending with Stan pinning and wrecking Ford.

Bill tapped out once he had gained sufficient knowledge.

Moving around to Ford’s front, Bill was greeted by a wobbly smile.

“Bill, come on, let's be civil here. I’m sorry if last time I went a bit overboa- EEP!”

Ford’s attempt at reasoning with Bill was swiftly cut off as his ribs were poked at on both sides simultaneously.

“Bill? Are you listen- wahahait! Wahahait nohohoho! Dohohon’t!” Ford giggled as Bill raked his now claw-shaped hands over his ribs.

“Oh, I’m listening, Sixer. The fact of the matter is I didn’t actually mind your little ‘test’ that much. But if there’s anything I’ve learned today, it’s that it’s not too bad being on the giving side of things, either.”

Bill then fiercely dug into Ford’s ribs, vibrating his fingers in the spaces between.

Laughter poured from Ford, who began kicking his legs. He attempted to pull at his chains, but his efforts were futile.

“AHAHAHA! QUIHIHIT -snort- IHIHIT!” He cackled.

Bill looked down, making note of the spot on Ford’s ribs that had elicited the strange sound.

“What a funny noise!” Bill commented, watching Ford’s face flush. “I want to hear it again!”

Bill zeroed in on the spot, causing Ford to snort once more and proceed to thrash, as the extra-sensitive area was targeted.

“AHAHAHA! BIHIHILL!”

After a moment, Ford appeared to be losing his energy, as the kicking from his legs began to slow down. Bill, still wanting to try one more spot, slowed his hands to a stop.

As Ford greedily gulped in air, Bill floated up to his head, securing his hand around Ford’s chin and tipping it up to meet his eye.

“Can you guess where I’m gonna go next?” He asked cheerfully.

Ford, looking at Bill through crooked glasses, managed to speak through his deep breaths.

“S-somewhere… to g-get a… 90° angle?”

Bill blinked.

“... what?”

“So that you c-can finally be right!”

Ford chucked to himself as Bill froze.

That was it. He deserved what was coming.

“So, you wanna be smart, Smart Guy?”

“Heh, I’m only kidding BilL-!” Ford’s tone went up an octave as he visibly flinched.

Bill had simply slidden his hands under Ford’s arms to elicit the reaction. They looked at one another, and Bill’s eye smirked.

“Bill, please. Let’s call it quits. We’ll have a truce, alright?” Ford suggested.

“Thanks for confirming I’ve found your weak point, sucker!” Ignoring Ford’s request, Bill dug semi-violently into his underarms, scratching and scribbling away.

Ford threw his head back as he was overcome with hysterics. His legs swung wildly as he thrashed around.

“AHAHAHAHA! NOHOHO! AHANYWHEHERE EHEHELSE! PLEHEHEASE!”

Ford’s pleas fell on deaf ears as Bill continued his attack.

Minutes passed that felt like hours to Ford, trapped in his own mind, being tickled halfway to death by a strange triangle entity.

Bill was enjoying himself, but noticed a slight wheeze mixed in with Ford’s laughter. His movements slowed and Bill figured that he would probably pass out soon from a lack of oxygen … if that was even possible here.

Not wanting to damage his ticket to escaping the Nightmare Realm, Bill slowed his hands to a stop, removing them from Ford’s figure. With a snap of his fingers, the chains around Ford’s wrists released, Ford immediately curling into a ball as he breathed heavily.

As Bill floated near, Ford curled in further, prompting Bill to pause in the air.

“Lighten up! I released you, didn't I? I’ve had my fun.”

Ford then uncurled himself, still hugging his body as he wiped a tear from his eye.

“I-I can’t remember the last t-time I laughed that hard.”

“Something tells me that I will very soon!”

Ford chuckled.

“You sure are odd, Bill.” He grinned, fixing his glasses.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way, Sixer! Say, shouldn’t you be getting up soon? Or would you prefer a round two?”

Bill wiggled his fingers and Ford gave a small start.

“Ah, yes! I should be going now! It was nice catching up with you, Bill.”

“See you real soon!” Bill called out.

Ford awoke with a small gasp. He sat back for a moment, reflecting on his experience.

His muse sure could be unpredictable, but he was ever-grateful for all of his help.

Ford couldn’t wait to see him the next night and discuss the results from testing the portal.

-

[palomahasenteredthechat]

My thoughts on AQPDO

So, did this image appear in the actual film? Yeah, that's what I thought...

I loved it, and I was disappointed by it. This is long, so buckle in. Major Spoilers discussed below.

First, the outstanding: the performances. Holy hell. Lupita. Just...her talent is breathtaking. To sustain that level of intensity without overdoing it, I am simply in awe. Well done. I hope some attention is paid to her performance when award season rolls around. Ditto Alex Wolff. He did a LOT with so little screentime. Djimon too; they all were so, so moving.

Joe was so heartbreaking, and yet Joe's character is one of the things I am disappointed about, because I needed more. Not because I love Joe, but because the story needed it. I know there was a backstory that was cut, and to be honest I don't think that was necessarily a poor decision, but the issue is it was cut late in the creative process, versus in the writing, and that is where the problem is. More on that in a bit, but Joe delivered a sensitive and moving performance, and really understated as well. Not a bit of the cheeky Joe we have come to love so much that also I think pops out in Eddie and Michael occasionally. He was wholly immersed in Eric's reality and his energy complimented Lupita's so well; you can see how much they worked off each other. Dare I say she elevated his game. Another marathon performance and I can imagine how exhausting it must be to sustain that.

Second, Michael Sarnoski, hats off to you sir. The pacing, the way you put the story together visually, your heartbreaking script, just so well done. I hope they release the shooting script because I would love to read it and see the words (or lack of) that Joe and Lupita interpreted so movingly. I wonder if Michael has processed the death of a parent recently, because I felt so much emotion from this story. This film is about accepting the inevitability of death, while going through the five stages of grief, yet seeking to live fully regardless. Trigger warning: DO NOT see this movie if you are going through a rough time with someone who is terminally ill. It will wreck you. But this film is tragically, beautifully human. To deliver that story in a Hollywood big budget action film is a hat trick. Every actor in Hollywood who wants to grow creatively should be calling their agents asking to work with Michael Sarnoski right now.

Also, shout out to the production design people. They completely suspended my disbelief that the characters weren't in New York. Set design, lighting, like I could SMELL New York. Virtual production is getting so fucking good - we're well past the Unreal Wall vistas of the Mandalorian. If you ask yourself how A24 could shoot an Iraq war movie in the pastoral hills of England this is your answer.

Now, the not so good.

Go back and watch the first and second trailers and tell me how many of those moments were in the movie. Answer: barely any.

Map claw hand? We have to get out of the city? Gay couple? Old man turning off engine? Nada.

So, was this all misdirection in the marketing, making the audience think they were coming to see a summer action movie? That's legit, trying to get butts in seats, but I have a strong feeling Michael delivered a very different movie that was hacked up in the testing process. All of those scenes probably made the movie feel 'too long', and they had to cut them back to balance the action sequences with the emotional sequences.

The helicopters overhead spelling out THEY CAN'T SWIM probably came from focus group comments where someone was like 'why didn't the aliens just cross the river and start eating people in New Jersey?' (good point). But I'll bet you they wanted to give Alex Wolff's character a more significant death in regard to Samira's emotional journey, so they reshot the scene with the old man turning off the engine and had Alex do it instead.

Also, I get the strong feeling Eric showed up in the story much earlier in the original cut of the film, and the scene with Map Claw Hand illustrates that. The big question regarding Eric is why this random sad British dude gloms on to Samira and I'm not sure they answer that question in the final cut. Joe absolutely sells it, but it doesn't make sense and I suspect it's because it wasn't written that way.

Also, and call me crazy, but I think Joe is wearing a wig in some parts of this movie and not in other parts. It would make sense if there were significant reshoots based on early testing of the film. I wonder if the Alien Lava Tiki Bar (what...was that actually) scene was added later. Like, I get why Eric went up there- actually I don't, I think Eric would have been focused on getting the medicine back to her and wouldn't have taken a detour up scaffolding to follow I cat at all, but that's just me.

Finally, let's talk about the cat. Both Schnitzel and Nico are exquisite and enjoyable to watch, though how no one got scratched or bitten by a disgruntled feline is a mystery. We had a long debate about whether The Cat Represents Samira's Life, or The Cat is An Angel, or Fate, but ultimately we just went with KITTY and that made the story more enjoyable.

Samira is on a quest, to die on her terms, and once she accepts her fate, she sheds the things that no longer matter to her, and in the process gives Eric a purpose. The scene in the jazz bar was so moving. The final shot is also incredibly moving, and I hope the city was filled with the sound of music one last time, a beautiful elegy accompanying her soul to heaven.

Bravo.

[nattaphum]

Mileapo’s interview conducted online after shooting for Spur Magazine

I changed into my clothes and the first person who appeared in front of the screen was Mr. Apo. While waving at me he said, "Hi! How are you? Mile will be coming soon, so please wait a little longer” he said with a refreshing smile that was no less than a vitamin yellow T-shirt. Mr. Mile, who appeared immediately after that, glanced at Mr. Apo and held two cushions that were nearby. While gently attaching one of them behind Mr. Apo, he sat down with a cheerful smile, saying, "Thank you for waiting." I witnessed the deep bond between the two of them, who care about each other on a daily basis.

You are two people who have been active as models since you were teenagers before you were active as actors. Please tell me how you aimed to be a model.

Apo: When I was looking for something to put into, I felt that "modeling work is cool." Luckily, I got a chance to be invited by an acquaintance.

Mile: I was also invited by an acquaintance and signed a contract with a model agency. At that time more than 10 years ago, there was still no culture of scouting through SMS. The way to enter this industry was either by chance or by acquaintance.

──At that time, it seems that model work and academic work were parallel, but each of them was quite conspicuous on the university campus ...!

Mile: Well, i was popular (laughs). Because I was also doing music activities. Since I was a child, playing the guitar has been my hobby.

Apo: I wasn't popular at all! Because i looked like a "simple boy" at that time. Because i was skinny, my face was elongated, and people around me often said that i looked like Ultraman (laughs). (Crosses arms and imitates Ultraman's pose)

Mile: hahaha. I also thought when we first met! It is similar to both Ultraman and the actor and who plays the role of Zhan Zhao

──Mile and Apo have appeared in fashion magazines from various countries so far. I saw a project that talks about the commitment to dressing and your favorite products, and I felt the love you two have for fashion.

Mile: I like fashion very much. I'm especially attracted to items that can feel the skills of craftsmen, such as tailor-made. Among them, I like accessories and shoes such as watches and rings.

──Apo seems to be particular into eyewear. I was surprised at the large number of things you carry, such as sunglasses and glasses.

Apo: hahahaha! It's a video that introduced the contents of my bag. You did your homework! ( =You've prepared well) Even in a day, I try to change the design according to the scene and mood, and wear glasses with a degree. I'm the type with a lot of luggage in the first place, but I especially carry a lot of glasses.

──As Apo mentioned earlier, the two of you who were appointed as Dior's ambassadors this year. In June, I participated in the men's collection in Paris and received cheers from many people there. How did you feel when you decided to work as an ambassador?

Apo: i was very happy. Actually, we've talked about it many times before it's decided. It started in the fall of 2022, when I worked with Dior for the first time. " While I was on a concert tour around Southeast Asia with the members of KinnPorsche, the Dior team came to see the concert and appreciated our attitude towards our work. From there, we discussed and came to the conclusion that "Dior and we should be able to do a good job" and decided to appoint them.

Mile: This is the first time for us to do long-term fashion work. I am sincerely grateful to the people of the Dior family for welcoming and caring for us.

──In August, the movie "Man Suang" where you co-starred for the second time together was released." Following "KinnPorsche The Series", this work produced by BE ON CLOUD was also very impressive with very gorgeous costumes and visual beauty. Mr. Mile is performing traditional Thai art with a taphone (taiko) and Mr. Apo is performing rum (Thai dance), but how long did it take to prepare?

Apo: It took 4 to 5 months just to prepare before shooting.

Mile: it took almost a year to combine the shooting period. Thanks to spending a long time, I feel that I was able to firmly express the beauty of Thai traditional art.

Apo: Unfortunately, the screening in Japan has not been decided yet. If you are interested, please contact me!

Mile: (smiling and nodding) What Apo is trying to convey is, "Please let me know if there is a company that will become a distributor of the work."

Apo: Oh yeah, that's what it is (laughs). You may get a chance to meet Japanese fans in the wake of the broadcast. I look forward to working with you!

──Fans should be looking forward to the day when they can meet the two of them in Japan.

Mile: we've always wanted to meet.

Apo: we will definitely make it happen

[kaythefloppa]

Team Pirate Bible

So I mentioned that the bible/art book for Jake and the Never Land Pirates (back when it was called Team Pirate) was very hard to download. I waited a few hours for Mega to get its shit together and it paid off. Here's the art book for the series that would eventually be known as Jake and the Never Land Pirates: This book pre-dates the pilot episode I linked earlier this morning and it shows.

Characters:

Yeah, right off the bat it's clear that our group of Neverland Pirates was much different.

For one, the leader wasn't Jake, it was Slighty. Whether it's Slighty from the movies, or, much like Cubby and Nibs, a different character with the same name. I'm leaning towards that. Disney Jr's version of Slighty had Jake's role as the leader, who helps and guides his team. Something to notice is that the Sword of Forever isn't really a concept. It wasn't in the pilot that included Jake either. Jake/Slighty's object was a Spyglass rather than a sword given to him by Peter Pan.

There's also some insight on the development of Bucky. According to the series bible, he is enchanted by Pixie Dust, but not in what you'd expect. Instead of flying, he is alive! A sentient pirate ship who is part of Team Pirate, and communicates through ringing.

This totally shoots down my "Tinker Bell invented Bucky" theory but this is just as cool. Though considering Tink sprays Pixie Dust on Bucky in one episode, I'm now wondering the logistics of Pixie Dust in this world, but that's another lore post for another day.

Also, I adore how Hook has his movie design here.

Locations, Curriculum, and Stories:

What-the, DINOSAURS??????????????? IN NEVERLAND???

The first episode, The Mystery of Turtle Rock, seems to be what would soon become the Season 2 episode "Mystery of Mysterious Island!" The second one, I think is Pirate Ghost Story's beta version. But you can see how different things were in production between the final version, especially the dynamic between the characters/