#those poor actors wearing wool

[ionlylikemycat]

okay i really like sweet tooth it’s a good show great worldbuilding the kids are all cute af

but my mans

that is not what idaho in the winter looks like. nothing in winter is that green, not here

that’s not even what idaho looks like in the summer let’s be real about idaho for a second

i mean maybe in new zealand where this is filmed yall have green green in the winter but here we have grey green in the winter literally everything stops being green what the fuck is this shit

there’s also constant birdsong and bugs in the background, like there are birds in winter but not bugs and also the birds are quieter???

you can’t just put them in winter clothes and pretend it’s not obviously summer in new zealand

[laurellerual]

What are your thoughts on the twow mercy sample chapter? It was so jarring to me to see arya know how to use sex as manipulation. But i do love when she kills raff and he says ‘you ll have to carry me” and she repeats what he said when he killed lommy its just amazing how detailed grrm really is, plus it again shows arya isn’t completely forgotten (like i see so many ppl seem to think🙄)

I love many aspects of the Mercy Sample chapter.

I love that the chapter opens with a wolf dream and a weirwood tree. And it closes with Arya who, in her head, puts aside the name of Mercy, to play the last part of the mummer's farce and do justice for Lommy. Lommy, a person that Arya didn't even like, but he was innocent and he's dead and this injustice doesn't matter to anyone but her. I love this, because it demonstrates more than clearly that all those people who repeat that Arya is No one from AFFC, were wrong then and now, in the TWOW, they are still wrong.

I love the description of Braavos shrouded in mist and the bridge of faces. And I like the description of Mercy's clothes which is very suspicious and strange. Mercy still wears Cat of the Canals' salt-stained boots and still uses a rope as her belt, but this time it's dyed blue, an expensive color. She wears a simple dress of undyed wool like a lowborn in Westeros would, but she wears a red-lined purple cape like a highborn in Braavos would. She dresses in a way that sums up much of her journey so far. The pockets of her cloak are filled with mysterious objects: a fruit knife, an iron key and a thin blade that does not belong to Mercy. They are pockets that represent the ability to compartmentalize identity Arya has acquired, and they are loaded with potential for the future.

I love the metatheatrical thing that allows Arya to wander among the ghosts and caricatures of the characters we already met: Izembaro and Robert, Bobono and Tyrion, Lady Stork and Cersei. But not only the actors, also the Snapper and Daena whose dynamic with Mercy is somewhat reminiscent of that between Septa Mordane, Sansa and Jeyne. I love the moment Mercy reminds us that despite all that has changed since book one, her stitches are still crooked. I love how Shakespearean Martin's writing is with the lines he puts in Tyrion's mouth.

Finally, I love the parallelism that is intertwined throughout the chapter between the events that will have to take place on stage at the Gate and the events that Arya lives now. For after seeing an Essosi girl being raped and killed on stage by Tyrion (a man of Westeros affiliated with the Lannister crown)… The city will awake the next day to find poor Mercy's room red with blood and a Lannister guard will be missing and it will be obvious to draw parallels between the two situations anf Raff will be accused of Mercy's murder.

This is all interesting because it shows us that the FMs are starting to use what they know about Arya for their own ends and those ends seem to be working in favor of Stannis and the retaking of Winterfell instead of in favor of the Lannisters. It also shows that even within a plan Arya is left with the right to choose how to implement it, showing us a less dogmatic side of FM and changing a bit how we generally think of them.

Overall it's one of my favorite sample chapters.

It's strange to see Arya use sexuality as a weapon so lightly, but it's no surprise. Arya is an intelligent character who has experience with prostitutes and courtesans. She knows Raff is depraved because he knows he participated in that young girl rape that Chiswick laugh about. The role that she plays with Raff is the part that she studied for the Bloody Hand, is the role of Shae.

Mercy could not be Arya's first chapter in TWOW, cause Martin doesn't write the chapters in order. And it's also more than probable that the chapter has already been modified and partially rewritten in recent years and that the version we will see published will be very different.

We know that 'Arya in Braavos' material is not lacking, Martin joked that he could write a novel just about that. And we know that the 5-year gap would have served above all to give the Stark children time to grow. As the books progressed Arya's chapters became fewer, yet the single chapter covers much more time. At the start a chapter saw days go by. Now the chapters in Braavos imply that Arya has been there for months if not a year already. This technique allows Martin to do time ellipses and age Arya faster by speeding up her narration. I don't think it's a coincidence that by checking the timelines of the chapters made by fans Mercy is chronologically later in time, more than all the others; the timelines of the POV characters are not aligned. I think this speaks to Martin's eagerness to make Arya grow up faster because of the things that await her later in the story.

We will have to wait and see… The simple answer is that Martin at the beginning of the story miscalculated the ages with respect to the actual time that passes during the events of the published books and now we live the consequences of that. In any case, he has already expressed the belief that "if a twelve-year-old has to save the world, so be it", and therefore it seems that he made peace with it.

I am aware that this is a problem with the books I am reading, I acknowledge it and move on. The way I explain these when the ages don't make sense to me is: It doesn't say anywhere in the books that a year in the world of Westeros is as long as a year on Earth sooo… I'll pretend that a year in Westeros is a bit longer and therefore according to Earth years the characters are a bit older.

[sexualsorbae]

gonna start out with a low hanging fruit

Specially the costumes (and apparent lack of efforts to compensate for them) for this one fuckin' character in the spin off prequel "Blood Origin"

Full disclosure: I'm a dude who wears t shirts and jeans from thrift stores and most of my clothes is 5-10 years old. I am not an expert on fashion or textiles. I'm not an expert in anything.

But even my dumbass can look at these three images (which were all part of marketing material for the show - I didn't have to search long and hard for unflattering images ) and tell that this is a really poor costuming decision for this show... There's no way that transparent fabric is part of the intended appearance of the costumes : it's meant to hold the costumes on the actors' bodies and shape the silhouette (from a distance) so it has striking and edgy look. The transparent fabric allows you to work with the opaque fabrics in ways that wouldn't be possible if you were just working with opaque fabrics made of heavy organic material (cotton, linen, silk, wool...etc.).

We are supposed to be like oooh wow, that looks so foreign and elven! I am titillated by this clothing!! Elves are cool!

But yo... we are also supposed to believe these people are out there with medieval garb and swords and arrows and shit. It's not like they're sooo advanced that elven children are running around terrorizing temples by chucking bouncy balls at the walls of the long marble hallways.

If they have nailed both making and manufacturing fabrics with synthetic polymers, maybe they could make a nice light puffy jacket , a raincoat, some impact resistant battle armor or, idk, friggin Tupperware. Great for those long nights on the path.

Okay so. I think it's fair to say we aren't supposed to SEE those seams. That fabric isn't supposed to be visible to the viewer.

Now you might say the costume designer was banking on post production, styling, lighting etc. to conceal the "implausible" aspects of the design. But. This is one of the cores of what I think makes the Witcher in general such a disappointment. I think good costume design principles would suggest , perhaps the seams shouldn't be there at all.

We, the viewer, are supposed to be transported to this world. We are supposed to suspend our judgement and entertain the possibility that we could be watching characters in this "alternate universe". Seeing something that CAN'T exist (or shouldn't) and that is supposed to be concealed from the viewer, but is done so poorly immediately takes a viewer out of the experience.

People can watch a play like Avenue Q, where the puppeteers are on stage, and still be transfixed by the characters they're OBVIOUSLY controlling.

But when a puppeteer is hiding in a box and you sneak a peek of them, it becomes distracting.

And every little peek adds up.

[nyhne]

Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you’d like to know better!

Oops late to doing this but thanks for the tag, @puella-peanut !

What book are you currently reading? I’ve been taking a fiction break and reading The Sprawl, by Jason Diamond, which is about reconsidering the bad cultural rep of suburbs. And it’s pretty good! A good amount of research and depth without being too dense, but it’s also not a book that’s pandering to a shallow shelf grab (I will never forgive The Secret Life of Groceries for how bad it was).

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year? Oif dude I’m terrible at remembering stuff like that. Did Marry Me come out this year or last year? Because that I will gladly rewatch again and again, so sue me.

What do you usually wear? During the work day it’s old jeans and work-tattered shirts since I’m a landscaper (or in winter’s case, long Johns, wool socks, jeans, undershirt, thin hoodie, thick hoodie). Outside of work, in the summer it’s usually a tucked in t-shirt and high waisted jeans, and in the winter it’s high waisted jeans and a sweater. I live in Seattle so I don’t usually get to wear my “”nicer””” East Coast stuff because god forbid someone wears a pair of slacks casually in this goddang city. (Said with affection for Seattle, but not for its odd fashion limitations).

How tall are you? About 5’2”.

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event? Libra, and Keanu Reeves, maybe? Or maybe he’s just a Libra too. Idk, I truly barely keep track of celebrities unless I have to lol.

Do you go by your name or a nick-name? At my last job I went by a shortened name, partially just to try it out (it’s one of my short forms I go by at cafes or for fleeting intros as well), and partially because my boss barely attempted with my full name on day one. Don’t have a lot of fondness for my full name outside of the fact that it means a lot to my mom but it’s whatever. Most online spaces that are relatively separate from “real life” I still go by Roshon.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child? Hmm not sure I had any concrete ideas on what I wanted to be when I was a kid…fleeting daydreams of geologist, chef, non-specific scientist, civil servant? Museum work when I was in high school and college. And it’s not that I didn’t become any of those things, but I think they’ve all been incorporated into who I am today and I’m not sure I’d need to be any of those things professionally to feel fulfilled. Also I love what I do now, but I highly suspect I’ll be one of those people who live a lot of different lives…restaurant work, administration, landscaping….

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one? Engaged! We’ve been together for about five and a half years. (: does that make me sound old or what lol

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at? Being patient; it’s pretty easy for me to exercise patience and take a step back on stuff. I’m bad at admitting I don’t know things, especially things related to pop culture. There are some things (like knowing actors, for example) I’m very open to admitting, but other things like familiarity with famous movies or tv shows, I’m just bad at admitting I haven’t seen them?? It’s dum. Idk why I’m so self-conscious about it.

Dogs or cats? Both, and even though I live with a dog I adore, on a shallow level I probably still favor cats more? But our dog is very dum and cute.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this year? Got back into my bullet journal this past year and was pretty pleased with my October theme. Maybe not The Favorite thing I’ve done this year but I’m old and poor with technology so this is as good as it gets. https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRguKuX8/

What’s something you would like to create content for? I still have PruAus fics I want to see through one day. Not necessarily holding myself to that promise. But I’d like to. Not sure if that actually answered the question.

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with? Making a mini crevice garden.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year? My previous job- really liked it when I started, and the first half year I was there, and then slogged through the winter months and thought it’d be better in summer when they get busier but it just felt worse. Not necessarily a purely them thing, I’m sure, but still.

What’s a hidden talent of yours? My German, maybe? That might be more of a ‘nobody expects the Asian kid to know any German’ kind of thing, moreso than a hidden talent. Also, half talent, since I’m still not fluent. Did decent when I was in Berlin in October, though!

Are you religious? Spiritual, maybe, religious, no. Still vaguely consider myself Unitarian, but even then it’s still more as a community/mindset thing rather than a religious structure thing.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment? A 7,5-10 gallon tank that’s in a more vertical format rather than horizontal…really itching to redo the scaping in the tank and get a few more fish. Still recovering from the holidays, though, haha. So I guess it all comes back to money, predictably.

[mizgnomer]

Excerpts from the SyFy Wire & Film School Rejects interviews with Claire Anderson, the Emmy-nominated costume designer for Good Omens:

[ Film School Rejects - by Ciara Wardlow]  “I worked through it with gut reaction images. So, two guys. Two guys, kind of close, nearly in love, if you like,” she said. “I just went in and we had a really big, very open conversation about how you related to these people in the script and how we would make them real and plausible, but give them a fantasy element. Give them something otherworldly.”

While Anderson says that she ultimately took this approach with more or less all of the characters, mixing period and modern elements to give characters somewhat timeless, yet also somewhat fantastical “out of time” looks, in the early discussion stages it was all about Aziraphale and Crowley. For one thing, Sheen and Tennant were already cast, which was a major help in determining their looks. It took some time to settle on the duo’s main, contemporary looks, but once these were locked in they played a significant role in determining everything else they wore.

[...] Aziraphale maintains a look with significant nods to the late Victorian era. Crowley too, although he manages to put an edgier twist on things than his angelic contemporary. “We re-appropriate bits of period stuff so that it echoes. [Aziraphale and Crowley] echo one another in their visual identity with pieces from their past—where they’ve touched each other in the past perhaps, or bumped into each other.” Regarding how Crowley manages to keep more of a modern, cool vibe, Anderson gives David Tennant’s performance the lion’s share of the credit. “He’s a very nice man, but he’s very sexy. He brought all of that swagger, that rock star, snake-hipped sexiness, and we built on that.”

[ SyFy Wire - by Jennifer Vineyard] GARDEN OF EDEN, 4004 B.C. -  Anderson looked at everything from Pre-Raphaelite paintings to Al Pacino’s hippie clothes in Serpico to determine just the right flow for Aziraphale’s rough-hewn robe, which has gold embroidery on the shoulders and side. Aziraphale is also wearing a golden ring, which later becomes a signet ring stamped with wings in the Victorian era.

NOAH'S ARK, MESOPOTAMIA, 3004 B.C. - “As aged as I am, I wasn’t there,” Anderson says, laughing. “And there wasn’t any painting or documentation from this era. But what we do know is that tunics remained pretty simple, and the earlier shape would have served them well for many years.” Aziraphale’s robe becomes more streamlined, and he wears gold beads at the neck.

THE CRUCIFIXION, GOLGOTHA, 33 - By this time, both Aziraphale and Crawley — now Crowley — are wearing turbans and head wraps, which Anderson attributes to “a bit of vanity.” Plus the wrap helps Crowley conceal his snake-like eyes (it’s too soon for glasses). Aziraphale dons a soft leather coat over his tunic, while Crowley wears female attire of the region — an abaya.

ROME, 41 -  Switching from tunics to togas was difficult, since togas contain 6 to 12 meters of fabric, which is a lot to carry around on camera. Anderson reduced the size by cutting the togas to fit for the character’s movements, and she gave each actor a thematic decorative pin to hold their togas together — Crowley a serpent and staff, Aziraphale a pair of wings (both courtesy of George Easton at Danegeld Historic Jewellery). Although history might argue that it’s too soon for sunglasses, Crowley starts to shield his eyes with a very small, eye-shaped lens. “It’s suggestive, rather than historically accurate,” Anderson says. And as a sign that Crowley is adapting to the humans around him, he also wears a silver laurel wreath.

ARTHURIAN ENGLAND, THE KINGDOM OF WESSEX, 537 - Anderson sent character descriptions and visuals for Aziraphale and Crowley to armor specialist FBFX, which sent a van to London full of pieces that could work for angelic and demonic armor. Instead of focusing on historical accuracy, Anderson looked for shapes and fit that suggested an ethereal — or snakelike — quality, once the pieces had been painted black or silver. For Crowley, she found a helmet that had a smaller face that could suggest a snakehead, and for Aziraphale, shoulder pieces that were slightly wing-like. To add to the wing effect, Anderson added a white fur caplet to Aziraphale’s armor. “It was terribly grand, but not very practical,” she says. “And the poor guys, it was murderously uncomfortable to stand around in that armor.”

GLOBE THEATRE, LONDON, 1601 - Crowley and Aziraphale catch an early version of Hamlet, looking more period-appropriate than ever thanks to the Globe’s vast archive of costumes. Aziraphale’s wardrobe, which includes a neck ruff edged with gold thread, has a metallic look with a hint of iridescent blue, which opens up his color palette. Crowley, meanwhile, wears a cleaner neckline and leather on his doublet, as well as fabrics that provide sheen and luster to suggest his snaky origins.

REVOLUTIONARY FRANCE, PARIS, 1793 - This is not a period to be dressed like an aristocrat, but Aziraphale couldn’t resist a lace collar, gold brocade and fitted jacket — which explains why he’s stuck in a prison cell (at least until Crowley intervenes). Crowley, more mindful of what revolutionaries would wear, dons a dark red jacket that’s almost as dark as his usual black. When Aziraphale miracle-changes his clothes, he wears the red cap of liberty. “It’s a soft beret that falls somewhere between a modern French beret and a pirate headdress,” Anderson notes.

ST. JAMES' PARK, LONDON, 1862 - This is the time period with which Aziraphale gets most comfortable, fashion-wise, and settles into a Victorian look with tartan flair. Anderson also bestowed some heavenly nods to his angelic nature — a feathery velvet top hat, a stopwatch with angel’s wings on the chain, and the signet ring. Crowley, meanwhile, wears a pair of long, elegantly cut trousers that we will see again in the 1960s. “The trousers repeat, which is basically what fashion does anyway,” Anderson says. “And it’s what the story does. There are notes backward and forwards.”

THE BLITZ, LONDON, 1941 - Aziraphale’s tartan necktie becomes a bow tie, and his penchant for wide lapels, a nod to his wings, continues, this time with a spear-point collar. Crowley, who comes to save Aziraphale once again, is dressed more formally, in a full double-breasted wool suit that must have been hard for David Tennant to wear in the South African heat. “The rest of the crew were in flip-flops and T-shirts, and David was in the suit, hat, and those big boots,” Anderson says, recalling the shoot.  “He had to be very physically active in that scene, and yet David didn’t complain about the heat or anything. He’s amazing.”

SOHO, LONDON, 1967 - Crowley, as noted, continues to wear his Victorian trousers, which are right up to date, and which he pairs with a black paisley velvet jacket with contrasting lapels. His sunglasses now have more of a John Lennon vibe. Aziraphale, perhaps inadvertently, is also looking stylish with his Victorian topcoat, spear-point collar, and cravat (modified from his scarf in Victorian England). “You can’t avoid being affected by changing trends,” Anderson says. “However bookish you are, you still notice other people. And you would have had Rolling Stones and Beatles fans wearing that kind of thing. That was our argument for Aziraphale wearing his Victorian topcoat all the way through, and Michael Sheen loved it. He said it inspired him. And the cravat rang in the changes and helped us with the passage of time, rather than always having him wear a bow tie.

[pathological-peoplepleaser-alert]

Hospital Playlist : Season 1

So, I recently re-watched season 1 of Hospital Playlist in preparation of season 2 that’s going to be released on the 17th of June, and I have a couple of thoughts that I want to share. Warning: It’s going to be filled with spoilers, so for those looking to avoid that, please don’t read more. Also, this is a looooonnnnggg one :)

“Hospital Playlist” is a Korean Drama that follows five doctors in their 40s who have been best friends since adolescence as they form a band together. While the log-line appears simple, the depth in the script and acting will enchant any audience. The narrative is free-spirited and quirky, reverberating friendships forged by love and time in a heart-warming style.

This slice of life drama realistically tackles what occurs within the white walls of the hospital. From ungrateful patients to the long wait for donors, it has it all. This drama covered plenty of cases, each of them as sad as the next. I recall when Yang Seok Hyeong, an assistant professor of obstetrics and gynaecology, had a patient who delivered a baby with anencephaly. He was considerate enough to not allow the mother to hear the baby’s cries by playing loud music in the delivery room and quickly escorting the baby away from the mother. I teared up during that scene, and I still tear up just thinking about that. I watched it as a case in a K-Drama, but it is many people’s gruesome reality, and all I can offer are my sympathies.

Despite zoning out during the technical aspects and elucidation of medical terminologies, I could feel the gravity of an operation and the burden of Atlas resting on the doctors when they held the scalpel. I liked the fact that there wasn’t any hospital politics. Rather, the show focused on the doctors, as they tried their best to save their patients. I mourned during the losses of life and celebrated with the characters after a successful surgery.

The ensemble cast for “Hospital Playlist” was flawless. The sincerity of the actors and the efforts they had put into studying and understanding their roles were clear as day. The chemistry between them was organic and the banters, natural. While they didn’t verbalise every emotion, the viewers could feel their familiarity, like they were real-life friends on screen. I was on an emotional rollercoaster as I watched this, rooting for them through hardships and cheering whenever they laughed.

“I wondered why my life was getting so difficult. It was really tough. But all of a sudden, one day, I realised how much time I was wasting. Wasting my life away like this because of what she did to me was doing a disservice to myself.”

Jo Jung-Suk did a flawless job portraying Lee Ik-Jun. This was my second time witnessing a drama with Jo Jung Suk, and while I wouldn’t applaud his performance in “Oh, My Ghostess!” (But in his defence, I found that script to be problematic) I absolutely loved him in “Hospital Playlist”. Lee Ik-Jun is an assistant professor of general surgery. He’s funny, sociable, laid-back, charming, and a dotting, single father to his son, Woo Joo.

The first time I, as the viewer, was introduced to him was gold. Naughty little Woo Joo had managed to put a blotch of super glue to a Darth Vader helmet, which was later worn by his father. During an emergency at the hospital, Ik Jun showed up decked in Darth Vader gear and bravely holding a light saber, demanding that the helmet was unglued from his head. He got his wish, but only after performing surgery while wearing the helmet.

Watching Ik-Jun and his son together is heartwarming, to say the least. You can tell how much he loves his son, as seen by the way he prepared meatballs from scratch, including the ketchup, excitedly for his son, only for the latter to claim he wanted meatballs, causing the former to trip on his way to the kitchen. I also adore how most of the bonding scenes we see between them happens over sandwiches. I find that very precious.

Ik Jun is also very friendly to everyone. He warmly welcomes the medical students, greets his colleagues with a smile, and most notably, plays as a matchmaker between Jeong-won and Jang Gyeo-wool, even if it is so the latter could assist him on more surgeries. His relationship with his sister is also beautiful. I love how authentic they are, from their bickering and the hidden ways they care for each other.

Ik Jun provides comic relief plenty of times— I nearly fell off my chair laughing when he mimicked a train, and also upon seeing how adamant he was to eavesdrop on a private phone conversation of Kim Jun-wan.

“I don’t deserve to be a doctor. I can’t control my emotions. I empathise too easily.”

I must admit, Ahn Jeong Won has a soft spot in my heart and is my favourite from the group of friends. An assistant professor of pediatric surgery, Jeong Won gets overly attached to patients and takes every loss personally. Due to his sensitive nature, he’s detailed in everything he does, earning the teasing nickname of “Buddha” from his colleagues.

Hardworking but overemotional, there have been many instances when Jeong Won swears to quit being a doctor after a patient has unfortunately succumbed, and it’s only through the insistence of his oldest brother does he continue his job. He’s immensely religious and has a close relationship with God, and considered being a priest until the season finale.

His interactions with his young patients tug on all my heartstrings. From the gentle way he gets the permission of small children to check their vitals, to the dedication with which he treats his patients and dissolves their fears.

One of my favourite quotes of this drama was said by him, “Do you know why doctors only give vague answers such as ‘We can’t be sure yet,’ ‘We don’t know yet,’ and ‘We need to observe a bit more?’ Doctors must take responsibility for their words, so we must be careful. There’s only one thing we, as doctors, can tell our patients with certainty. ‘We will do our best.’”

Despite being born from a wealthy family, Jeong Won is nearly broke, spending all his fortune anonymously covering the hospital fees of poor patients.

Chae Song Hwa summarised Jeong Won’s personality neatly in episode 12 when she said, “Lastly, there’s you (Jeong Won). Seeing others enjoy good food makes you happier than when you are eating it yourself.”

“If the doctor gives up on the patient, he isn’t a doctor anymore.”

At first glance, Kim Jun Wan appears cold and scary, but there are so many dimensions to his character. He’s blunt, assertive and has a reputation for telling his patients what they need to hear, not that they want to hear.

However, he’s possibly the most caring person, having allowed Jeong Won to, in his own words, “mooch” of him for years now. He was also always nagging and hovering over his friends, keeping a stash of chocolates for them. He stepped up as the Chief of the cardiothoracic surgery department multiple times, whether it was to act as a shield to his mentee or to reprimand his juniors about the importance of (a patient’s) life and how every single decision taken by a doctor has to be thoughtful and absolute because there’s no way to reverse such things.

A great example of his outer versus inner personality is when he’s questioned by a medical student on why he chose to be a cardiothoracic surgeon. While he claimed that he became a surgeon after asking his professor which job would allow him to get the most money, with a glimpse of a flashback scene, it was revealed that when back as a student, Jun Wan was given the opportunity to witness a surgery and then, to touch a beating human heart, and felt life, that solidified his decision to choose cardiology as his field. Recalling that scene gives me goosebumps even now. That was magical.

Jun Wan is also a huge foodie, his only competition being Song-Hwa.

“What have you done for yourself lately?”

Chae Song Hwa is an associate professor of neurosurgery. Discerning without being too critical, she is intelligent and is often the mother hen of the group. Respected by her juniors, she has also been fondly dubbed the ‘ghost’ due to her busy schedule that has left several of her colleagues wondering whether she has time to eat or sleep. She was everywhere and knew everything, which allowed her to quietly look after the residents of the hospital and the patients.

Despite being buried under piles of work, she still made the time to grade her juniors papers, and I’m reminded of one of the first instances the viewers were given of her, which was when she comforted a patient in the elevators of a hospital. The only female professor in neurosurgery, she is kind to her patients.

I adore how decisive she is, being extremely clear about what she wants, drawing boundaries while still being friendly and radiating professionalism to those around her, despite the hardships she might be going through. She routinely goes camping during the weekend and is the embodiment of positive self-love.

Some of my favourite moments in this drama was literally just Song Hwa and Jun Wan aggressively eating like they’ve been hungry since the dawn of time. Song Hwa might have claimed that the reason she ate so rapidly, so full of zeal was because of growing up with older brothers, but Ik Jun was quick to shoot her down and note that they all looked boney.

“My time is too precious for that. I want to live doing the things I like. And the things I want to do right now.”

Probably the most under-appreciated character, Yang Seok Hyeong is a treasure. My first opinion of him was ‘mama’s boy’ and while I was correct, wow, I had not expected the reason why. In his youth, Seok Hyeong was not close to his mother at all, and we could even see him ignoring her phone calls. But after everything that happened with his dad, he grew closer to his mother, developed a new sense of protectiveness and appreciation for her, and I adore that.

He was also the reason the band reunited in the first place, making that his condition for working at the Yulje Medical Center. Despite seeming aloof, he was an open book to his friends. He didn’t like to bother or intrude on people and usually kept to himself, gaining a reputation for being a loner whenever he was not around his four friends.

Throughout the season, he was trapped in a whirlwind of turmoil, from the news of his unexpected brother to his father’s death and his surprise succession to the company he wants no ties with. He maintains a calm exterior and braces through the troubles.

Seok Hyeong lives up to the sensitivity his job demands from him, softly informing expecting mothers about the risks of their pregnancies while encouraging and empathising with them when things get hard.

He prefers to stay in the shadows and allow people the opportunity to sort their messes out themselves, after reminding them that he’s only a call away if they need him. He’s an excellent confident booster and appreciates those who are responsible.

These characters stayed not only in my mind but also in my heart. Each of them has such vivid personalities I can’t entirely capture in words. Their insecurities, struggles, and feelings were so real and incredibly relatable and easy to empathise with.

As conveyed by the title, music plays an important part in this T.V. serial, by allowing the characters to reminisce their college days and also allowing them a breather from their stressful life. There are thousands of words in the English language, and yet, I can’t string together enough of them to express how I felt when Jo Jung Seok sang Aloha.

The doctors use music not only as an outlet to release their frustrations, but also to express their thoughts and feelings. To heal. Listening to the songs and the covers made by the band lightened my heart. The labour they put into practising the songs made the moments more precious.

Through the music sessions in this T.V. serial, I found my affection for each character increasing. I found myself surprised to recognise some of the songs considering they are quite old, but I hummed along and felt the air around me thrum with glee as they sang.

I also found it rather ironic that Chae Song Hwa is considered to be a bad singer (her pre-routine of gulping down raw eggs fascinated me on an odd level) although the actress who plays her, Jeon Mi Do is a talented singer.

Therapeutic and well-written, I marvel at the writer’s ability to weave together arrays of mundane subplots into endearing bliss, leaving lingering positivity after every episode along with a yearning to watch more.

I’m a huge fan of writer Lee Woo-Jung’s Reply series and was hesitant to start this drama, afraid that it would fall short of expectations. But having watched it, I can safely say that those concerns were unnecessary, and whatever expectations I had were only exceeded. I couldn’t recognise any leading plotline of this drama. To me, it simply showcased the daily life of five doctors.

As it is character-driven, there is a slow progression of the drama, which needs some time getting adapted to. It was also a little hard trying to keep track of the multiple characters initially introduced, but within three episodes, I was able to get a hang of things. The dialogues were witty, impactful and sharp, capturing my attention from the beginning to the end. However, despite containing a plethora of humorous moments throughout this serial, there was a subdued layer that focused more on the community than the plot.

I must admit, however, that I found the first episode to be subtly chaotic and slow-paced. I couldn’t grasp the concepts or connect with the characters until the second episode, after which I had no qualms.

I loved the character arcs in this story. It was a pleasure to observe their journeys and diligence as various storylines diverged or amalgamated, how they grew as individuals while maintaining their core values. The flashback scenes were fascinating to watch and compare how they are now to how they used to be.

The cinematography was stunning. I was in awe at how different shades and tones of light could impact not only the setting of the scene but also the mood of the viewers.

I recommend “Hospital Playlist” to anyone who likes to watch T.V. serials possessing the perfect amount of drama, laughter, angst, warmth and love. This serial is a truly rare gem in a basket of rocks where the storylines are solid without being too predictable.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Interview with Claire Anderson, the costume designer for Good Omens!

GARDEN OF EDEN, 4004 B.C.

Anderson looked at everything from Pre-Raphaelite paintings to Al Pacino’s hippie clothes in Serpico to determine just the right flow for Aziraphale’s rough-hewn robe, which has gold embroidery on the shoulders and side. Aziraphale is also wearing a golden ring, which later becomes a signet ring stamped with wings in the Victorian era.

NOAH'S ARK, MESOPOTAMIA, 3004 B.C.

“As aged as I am, I wasn’t there,” Anderson says, laughing. “And there wasn’t any painting or documentation from this era. But what we do know is that tunics remained pretty simple, and the earlier shape would have served them well for many years.” Aziraphale’s robe becomes more streamlined, and he wears gold beads at the neck.

THE CRUCIFIXION, GOLGOTHA, 33

By this time, both Aziraphale and Crawley — now Crowley — are wearing turbans and head wraps, which Anderson attributes to “a bit of vanity.” Plus the wrap helps Crowley conceal his snake-like eyes (it’s too soon for glasses). Aziraphale dons a soft leather coat over his tunic, while Crowley wears female attire of the region — an abaya.

ROME, 41 

Switching from tunics to togas was difficult, since togas contain 6 to 12 meters of fabric, which is a lot to carry around on camera. Anderson reduced the size by cutting the togas to fit for the character’s movements, and she gave each actor a thematic decorative pin to hold their togas together — Crowley a serpent and staff, Aziraphale a pair of wings (both courtesy of George Easton at Danegeld Historic Jewellery). Although history might argue that it’s too soon for sunglasses, Crowley starts to shield his eyes with a very small, eye-shaped lens. “It’s suggestive, rather than historically accurate,” Anderson says. And as a sign that Crowley is adapting to the humans around him, he also wears a silver laurel wreath.

ARTHURIAN ENGLAND, THE KINGDOM OF WESSEX, 537 

Anderson sent character descriptions and visuals for Aziraphale and Crowley to armor specialist FBFX, which sent a van to London full of pieces that could work for angelic and demonic armor. Instead of focusing on historical accuracy, Anderson looked for shapes and fit that suggested an ethereal — or snakelike — quality, once the pieces had been painted black or silver. For Crowley, she found a helmet that had a smaller face that could suggest a snakehead, and for Aziraphale, shoulder pieces that were slightly wing-like. To add to the wing effect, Anderson added a white fur caplet to Aziraphale’s armor. “It was terribly grand, but not very practical,” she says. “And the poor guys, it was murderously uncomfortable to stand around in that armor.”

GLOBE THEATRE, LONDON, 1601

Crowley and Aziraphale catch an early version of Hamlet, looking more period-appropriate than ever thanks to the Globe’s vast archive of costumes. Aziraphale’s wardrobe, which includes a neck ruff edged with gold thread, has a metallic look with a hint of iridescent blue, which opens up his color palette. Crowley, meanwhile, wears a cleaner neckline and leather on his doublet, as well as fabrics that provide sheen and luster to suggest his snaky origins.

REVOLUTIONARY FRANCE, PARIS, 1793

This is not a period to be dressed like an aristocrat, but Aziraphale couldn’t resist a lace collar, gold brocade and fitted jacket — which explains why he’s stuck in a prison cell (at least until Crowley intervenes). Crowley, more mindful of what revolutionaries would wear, dons a dark red jacket that’s almost as dark as his usual black. When Aziraphale miracle-changes his clothes, he wears the red cap of liberty. “It’s a soft beret that falls somewhere between a modern French beret and a pirate headdress,” Anderson notes.

ST. JAMES' PARK, LONDON, 1862

This is the time period with which Aziraphale gets most comfortable, fashion-wise, and settles into a Victorian look with tartan flair. Anderson also bestowed some heavenly nods to his angelic nature — a feathery velvet top hat, a stopwatch with angel’s wings on the chain, and the signet ring. Crowley, meanwhile, wears a pair of long, elegantly cut trousers that we will see again in the 1960s. “The trousers repeat, which is basically what fashion does anyway,” Anderson says. “And it’s what the story does. There are notes backward and forwards.”

THE BLITZ, LONDON, 1941

Aziraphale’s tartan necktie becomes a bow tie, and his penchant for wide lapels, a nod to his wings, continues, this time with a spear-point collar. Crowley, who comes to save Aziraphale once again, is dressed more formally, in a full double-breasted wool suit that must have been hard for David Tennant to wear in the South African heat. “The rest of the crew were in flip-flops and T-shirts, and David was in the suit, hat, and those big boots,” Anderson says, recalling the shoot.  “He had to be very physically active in that scene, and yet David didn’t complain about the heat or anything. He’s amazing.”

SOHO, LONDON, 1967

Crowley, as noted, continues to wear his Victorian trousers, which are right up to date, and which he pairs with a black paisley velvet jacket with contrasting lapels. His sunglasses now have more of a John Lennon vibe. Aziraphale, perhaps inadvertently, is also looking stylish with his Victorian topcoat, spear-point collar, and cravat (modified from his scarf in Victorian England). “You can’t avoid being affected by changing trends,” Anderson says. “However bookish you are, you still notice other people. And you would have had Rolling Stones and Beatles fans wearing that kind of thing. That was our argument for Aziraphale wearing his Victorian topcoat all the way through, and Michael Sheen loved it. He said it inspired him. And the cravat rang in the changes and helped us with the passage of time, rather than always having him wear a bow tie.”

[stone-man-warrior]

June 26, 2020: 4:18 pm:

Very briefly: I looked at Twitter today, to see what the WH terror squad is up to. It’s a frightening duplication of what I have been telling all of you about, but the White House terror teams are doing what they do in their regular deceptive style. They are pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes as we are shepherded into our own doom. It’s our wool. They stole it. It’s steel wool, and is extremely abrasive. So far, the wool has been very fine, Triple Ought, then Double Ought, is at a point of Ought grade abrasive Steel Wool that was made by USA. Very complicated symbolism is going on. You can find the Steel Wool ideas in terror commands disguised as Music industry promotions this past week.They are subtle, and ghostly sort of indicators. Today, Trump made executive order to protect statues. There are millions of people being slaughtered with this bullshit they are calling Corona Virus and COVID, but he has made a point to protect concrete and bronze. Everyone is told to wear a mask. Some places it’s said to be a government mandate to cover your face. No mask could get a person thrown in jail.

Meanwhile, all of the police have been demonized in media. They sent a bunch of fake police to my house to rough me up, so that I would sign up with the Police Brutality Brigade Warriors. I am not going to do that. I need police to help, and so do you. That is their job. The stories are put out there to make you hate police, the same way that racial stories are perpetuated endlessly so no one will ever forget to hate other groupd of people who look a little different than you or I do. It’s all propaganda of a US Media war machine commanded from Britain, and with Christian ideas as it’s backbone. The problem with Christian ideals as a backbone, is no one can see what it’s made of, yet, it is everywhere, and is all powerful, omnipotent, and shuns anyone who won’t sign up to be ruled by a ghost. The Corona Virus lockdown set people up for a kill. Millions were forced to stay home, business closed, people cannot go to work, have no money, can’t pay housing costs, or buy food. Then, “You have to wear a mask” happened. Desperate people everywhere, ordered to wear a mask, police are demonized, and there is the ingredients for a national disaster. The desperate people will turn to crime to get some food. They will put on the mask, as they were instructed, thinking that will help them get away with a means to feed their families, while the police are walking on eggshells. Easter Egg Shells. Today also, Trump made executive order to “protect workers”. He says that workers in federal jobs will be selected based on their skill set, rather than educational qualification. It’s a double edge sword. That idea about skills vs education and training is way too big to explore here, but I recommend that you explore that, in a global sense, all encompassing. It is a far reaching thing that is contained in what sounds like a great idea. Applications for federal employment will be literally, “pouring in”. Or is it “Pooring In”?”. You really need to think like a mass murderer bent on eliminating millions of people from Earth with this “worker protection” that allows skills over qualification. “Quantity over Quality” is applied there, it’s a liquid made with human beings, and might be used to cast a few memorial statues in the future, the way the comm reads. On one end of the Covfefe, there is the President, White House, and US Congress, backed and supported by all fifty fake US State Governors. On the other side of the Covfefe, is the desperate people wearing masks, and trying to figure out how to feed themselves. There is another group, also wearing masks. Think of them as “Phantom of the Opera”. They are all around, and are in everything, and they look like everyone else does, and are wearing masks. Those are the terror army. They have all of their needs supplied for them by the leadership mentioned in the WH, Congress, and state Governors, all disguised with false commerce, and falsified inventory management at stores, such that the terror army, fakes purchasing the things they need, the bill is paid by SAG, in the background, secretly, carefully covered so no one can see it. SAG makes all of the arrangements and does so with electronic money management magic made possible by Chipped Debit cards, and hijacked banking, such as JP Morgan Chase Bank, all of JP Morgan Chase Bank, and that is only one of many. So, the masked murderous terror army, is walking among the masked desperate masses. They all look the same. The police are being careful not to crack those Easter Egg Shells. There are imposter police within the real police, just the same as the desperate people are walking among the masked terror army. Now, trump has made a situation where it’s far easier than ever before to have a citizen arrested, and thrown into jail. The situation is such that no one will come out of the jail once they are taken captive. Especially if those impostor police are able to lure the real police into the traps being set at the “Demonstrations”. Those Demonstrations are a Police Killing Field, and also are a Citizen Killing Field. The terror army, is inside of the policing agencies.

The terror army, also looks and behaves just exactly like the US Citizen population at the demonstrations, and, at the grocery stores.

It’s another double edge sword. Ghosts. Vatican ideals. All built into the Trump Killing Machine. The Crusades never stopped, they just got bigger, and bigger and bigger, while maintaining innocence and perception of being small, and not to worry or be concerned about. It’s been going on for more than a thousand years, and is still going on. They are doing everything almost just exactly the way they told everyone it would happen. The digital money idea with the “Mark of the Beast” is the hidden false commerce that has been feeding, housing, and arming the terror army. I say, that story has been a command and situational set of statements as it evolved, and has been intentional as part of a way to inform the terror army as to how things will be done, customized in news stories at specialized sources. The Church Congregations in cities and towns. The police are in the middle. The police have have been placed into the “Irony” position, between the top level of US Government, and the people they are sworn to protect. It’s an impossible position, since the SAG Actor Police, and Royal Canadian Police, are working secretly among the real police. The answer to the coup, lies in the command chain. Remove the command chain, to slow the advance. Twitter, is the main source of the commands received by the terror army in the field. Twitter must be destroyed, taken offline now. Then, some real national security has to recognize and act on the fact that Donald Trump, is a foreign entity in the White House. He is a British Knight, is loyal to both the British Throne, and to the Screen Actor Guild, and must be removed, by force, or otherwise. End terror report: 5:21 pm.

[gukyi]

a heart full of love | myg

summary: people say that actors are the most dramatic people in the world but those people haven't met a certain min yoongi.

{enemies to lovers!au, high school!au, actor!au}

pairing: yoongi x female reader word count: 10k genre: fluff, angst so light a feather weighs more warnings: bad references to les miserables and memes, in that order. yoongi being outrageous. lots of caps lock. unrealistic portrayals of the arts. musical directors that are way too chill to be high school teachers. possible megaphone misuse.  a/n: how long have i put off this fic? too long, honestly. but here it is, finally!! i wrote the majority of this between the hours of 10pm and 5am. forgive my mistakes. happy birthday to one of my closest irl friends, who literally requested i write this in april. i’m so sorry. it’s finally here. also happy birthday, but i said this already.

If you lived in some Black Mirror-esque alternate universe where every single human being lived their life and interacted with others as though they were merely profiles on a social media website, the first thing you would do is use the Block feature in your everyday life. And you would use it on none other than Min Yoongi.

It’s a massive shame that there’s no real life unfollow, blocked, reported feature because Min Yoongi, Unnecessary Nuisance Extraordinaire, is quite deserving of all three. Especially considering there is no occurrence in your life more unfortunate than the fact that Min Yoongi just had to waltz into the drama club interest meeting in freshman year, sit his ass down at one of the desks, and sign his name in ugly penmanship under the words Interested in Stage Crew? written in Comic Sans.

You didn’t know it yet, no, not when you barely knew his name and could barely see him under the massive black hoodie he was wearing, but Min Yoongi wrote his name down under the Stage Crew interest line and you wrote yours down under Acting interest line and it was like you signed off your soul. Like you said “I do” to the personification of the word irritation, committed yourself to a thorn in your side for the next four years. A thorn that seems to have a particular penchant for the dramatic arts. It’s a shame that Min Yoongi isn’t interested in acting, but then again, you think that if you had to stand on a stage next to him, there’s no telling what could happen.

🅱️rama 🅱️lub 🅱️officers

you (12:46PM): are you guys good for the meeting this afternoon? you (12:46PM): in the choir room

namjoon (12:48PM): I still don’t have dues from half of the drama club

you (12:50PM): threaten them

namjoon (12:51PM): With what?

you (12:52PM): idk you (12:52PM): the wrath of kim namjoon ig

seokjin (12:54PM): i wouldn’t exactly call the wrath of kim namjoon particularly threatening

you (12:55PM): no one asked u seokjin you (12:55PM): you’re in love with him

seokjin (1:01PM): love is a great and wonderful thing y/n

min (1:03PM): yeah y/n ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

you (1:05PM): do not start with me min

min (1:05PM): i just want to love you y/n

you (1:06PM): fuck off you (1:07PM): i didn’t ask

namjoon: (1:07PM): Can you not make declarations of love in the drama officers group chat?

you (1:08PM): i am not the one making the love declarations here

min (1:09PM): <3

you (1:10PM): i hate you

seokjin (1:34PM): I will forever be shocked that Park and Bae let the two of you be officers in the same club

When the bell rings you dash out of your last class of the day, making a beeline for the choir room so you can get there before the rush of the other drama students. It’s very unprofessional for the President of the drama club to be late to her own meeting. You quickly weave your way through the hordes of other students and arrive at your destination, earlier that mostly everyone else.

Mostly.

Min Yoongi is sitting at the shitty piano right by the door, the one that’s always out of tune no matter what your poor choir director does to try and fix it, playing a distant melody of a tune you vaguely know but cannot name. It would probably be nice if it weren’t for the fact that the piano itself sounds terrible and the fact that it is Min Yoongi who is pressing those keys.

He seems to perk up when he notices you’re here, just because he thrives off of your displeasure as any guy as dramatic and obnoxious as he is would. He begins to play the melody more forcefully, passionate and strong, like he’s trying to tell you something. The only thing is that you already know what he’s going to say.

“It’s called Liebestraume,” Yoongi says aloud as he continues to play, knowing that your eyes are trained on him.

“And?” You prompt.

“It means love dream,” he begins to explain, making you roll your eyes as you start heading over to the chalkboard obscured from your vision at the present moment. Though beautiful, you don’t want to hear any more of Min Yoongi playing it on that poor, mildly broken piano. It sounds off and with his fingers on the keys it makes you feel even more aggravated than you already are when you’re in his presence. Which, during drama season, is always.

As you round the corner in this L-shape of a choir room, you are greeted with the sight of a perfectly Not Blank chalkboard. In fact, there’s this horrific scrawl in all capital letters on it. It reads:

Y/N,

WILL YOU GO OUT ON A DATE WITH ME? CHECK ☐ YES ☐ NO

— MIN YOONGI

You turn around to glare at a wonderfully guilty-looking Min Yoongi, who’s smiling proudly at the monstrosity he’s written on the board. He’s always fucking like this, and it’s ridiculous and out-of-hand but you are powerless to stop it. The worst part is that he’s written your name and his so there’s no confusion whatsoever as to who this message is addressed to and who it’s from. Such blatant call-outage makes your cheeks heat up, both in mortification and fury.

“Are you serious, Min?” You ask, speechless. The rest of the drama club trickles in, including your fellow officers, Seokjin and Namjoon, and each person gets a nice good look at the chalkboard as they sit down in the choir chairs. By the time the room is half-filled, most people are looking at you, waiting for your response. You swear you can see Taehyung over by the director’s desk with his phone out. He’s definitely recording this whole thing to put on his Snapchat, because he’s one of those people that has ten minute Snapchat stories like the heathen he is.

“When am I not, Y/N?” Yoongi asks in response, cruising on up to where Namjoon and Seokjin stand, waiting for the meeting to begin. He takes his sweet time, relishing in the attention he’s receiving and the press he’s focusing on you. Your misery seems to fuel him.

Pretty soon all of the officers are standing up at the front of the room, ready to start the meeting and cover all of the bases before sending everyone home for the afternoon. Well, all of them besides you. You’re still staring, flabbergasted, at the message written on the chalkboard.

“Well?” Seokjin prompts, looking like he’s about to keel over with laughter. Him and Namjoon seem to be enjoying themselves quite a lot up there. “Aren’t you going to respond?”

The ever-growing drama club crowd laughs, looking at you expectantly. Half of them probably think you’re going to check YES and the world will end because it will be the first time you have ever accepted a date request from Min Yoongi, and the other half probably think you’re going to brutally circle NO before moving on with the meeting entirely. Taehyung’s filming you no matter what happens.

You reach down for the eraser on the ledge at the bottom of the chalkboard, and wipe the whole damn message away, word by word, line by line, until all that’s left is:

☐ NO

and that’s that. Not the best way to turn him down—you’ve definitely done better—but good enough for now and certainly good enough for Taehyung, who is absolutely laughing his entire head off in that back corner. When you turn back to the front of the room where the rest of the drama club officers await you, Yoongi’s pouting, puppy dog eyes on full display, pretending to be heartbroken at your rejection.

“Oh, stuff it, Min,” you chide, marching over to stand in between Seokjin and Yoongi as you clap your hands to begin the meeting.

It goes fairly well. Yoongi gives his instructions to his neck of the woods: the stage crew kids gathered in the top right corner of the seats, all of whom are on their phones and not paying attention to anything that the rest of the officers are saying. Quite frankly, you’re not even sure if they’re listening to Yoongi either. He’s their only representation in the republic known as the Drama Club Officers and they’re barely giving him even a margin of their attention. Namjoon manages to get dues from a couple more people. Seokjin is loud and reckless and everybody loves him, as per usual. You manage the whole thing, switching slides and relaying information from the musical directors.

When the meeting is over, Taehyung hangs back with the officers, partly because he’s your best friend and partly because he’s also your ride. Namjoon records the names of all of the students who gave him money and Seokjin waits around because they always leave school together.

Yoongi grabs his stuff and pulls on his black beanie, letting the thick wool cover his platinum bangs, looking longingly at the ☐ NO still left on the chalkboard. He stuffs his headphones into his ears and begins to head out, but not before shouting, “Don’t forget about me, Y/N!”

You wouldn’t be able to even if you tried.

Seokjin and Namjoon head out soon after, leaving you and Taehyung alone in the choir room as you pull on your jackets and adjust your backpacks. Taehyung’s keys jingle on the lanyard he’s got wrapped around his hand.

“I’d say that was a pretty successful meeting, wouldn’t you?” He asks on the way out, headed towards the exit that leads to the parking lot where his busted old car waits.

“Other than the Yoongi fiasco in the beginning, yeah, I think it went alright,” you say, only the slightest bit (more like a medium amount) bitter. Min Yoongi always has to be so… Yoongi.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I know you hate his guts, Y/N, but seriously. You’re playing Eponine in Les Miserables and yet when a love confession comes knocking on your door, you turn the lights off.”

“He doesn’t really mean it,” you insist like it’s obvious, because it is. No way in hell does Yoongi actually want to go out with you. He exists to torture you, nothing more, nothing less.

Your best friend sighs. His car beeps as he unlocks it. Some days you wonder what your life would be like if you had never met Min Yoongi, but then you remember that not even the kindest goddess could have prevented the firestorm known as your relationship.

You’re leaning against the stage, rehearsing your lines in your head when you hear the heavy stage door opening then slamming shut, heavy footsteps ringing out throughout the theater.

There’s just enough time to spot Taehyung marching in, proud as ever, jumping from the stage ledge to the carpeted pit below, and shouting, “Guess who just failed his calc test!”

Nobody applauds. In fact, nobody seems to take any note of him besides you and the director, who is shaking his head as he writes something down on his clipboard. But you have to take notice of him because he’s your best friend.

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic,” you chide as he strides up to you. You don’t need to move your eyes from your script to know that he’s smiling. He reaches into his bag to show you the proof—a fucking satchel that cost him an arm and a leg at Urban Outfitters because he is a piece of shameless hipster trash and extremely proud of it—pulling out a crumpled looking thing stapled together in the top left corner. On the front, right next to where Taehyung’s scribbled his name (it looks like a goose has written it), a bright red 36/100.

“Look at her, Y/N,” Taehyung says, shoving the thing in your face. You fumble with it, trying to balance it between your fingers along with your thick (with two C’s) script. You leaf through it. There’s one page where Taehyung just drew a game of hangman. He didn’t even try to write anything down. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“What were you trying to spell out?” You ask, showing him the hangman page.

“I suck at calc.”

“You weren’t even gonna like, beg for an A?”

Taehyung looks only a little affronted. “I may be shameless but I’m not that shameless. At least I have the dignity to know when even I can’t schmooze my way to a good grade like Cher from Clueless. I just don’t have that kind of skill, Y/N! Or a rotating closet! My life is awful.”

“You know what, I think the role of Marius will be a good reality check for you. It’ll teach you to be humble. And to cherish what you already have. And to sing your feelings away.”

Taehyung scoffs. “I do that regularly.” He’s not wrong. You’ve lost count of the amount of times you’ve found him singing a Billboard Top 50 song as a form of self-expression to achieve some sort of fake deep catharsis. He once broke out into a ballad version of Justin Bieber’s Never Say Never after missing a question while you were playing Kahoot in chemistry two years ago.

“So what do you have in calc now?”

“A 69.7%,” Taehyung declares like it’s an achievement.

“You scammed your way to a C? How?” You ask in shock. You can’t believe that Taehyung somehow managed to score enough points for him to not be failing that class. You’ve seen his test scores. His grades. He has used his un-handed-in calculus homework as a tissue before.

“My charm,” Taehyung boasts, making you cough up a laugh. At your skepticism, he adds, “and this extra credit review game we did.”

“You’re unbearable,” you tell him in disbelief, your voice still fond. You know that Taehyung doesn’t really want much to do with math, not when he happens to have a penchant for the arts. He’s just selectively studious.

Taehyung smiles to himself as he pulls out his own script, the edges of the folder bent and wrinkled and torn from being stuffed into and roughly pulled out of his satchel. “Bet my team members thought that too. Can’t say they were pleased with being paired up with me.”

“Who were you with?”

“Joy, Hana, and a certain guy whose name rhymes with Sin Boongi.”

“Very funny,” you deadpan.

“Yeah, I’m not really sure who that is either.”

His sarcasm makes you roll your eyes. It’s not so much that you can’t stand the mention of Yoongi’s name as it is you can’t stand him existing, specifically near where you exist. If living on Mars were possible and feasible and if you were as wealthy and scandalous as Elon Musk, then you would either send Min Yoongi on the first ship to the red planet or jump on yourself.

Bitterly, you realize that even if a whole fucking planet separated the two of you, he’d still probably find some way to bother you.

“I mean, Joy and Hana probably greatly dislike me for mooching off of their genuine hard work but I know for a fact that I am not the primary target of Yoongi’s attention,” Taehyung tells you pointedly, crossing his arms in front of you as he gazes at you. You roll your eyes, roughly handing back his crumpled test and going back to your lines. You don’t need a reminder as to how much of a pain in every muscle in your body Yoongi is.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s not like I chose for this to happen.”

“Ah, yes, it’s not your fault that Min Yoongi has been trying to confess his undying love for you since freshman year and you’ve done nothing but brutally reject him each time.”

This is the part in the story where you’re supposed to say that it wasn’t always like this. You’re supposed to reminisce about some time where you and Yoongi were childhood friends, neighbors, lovers who kissed each other on the kindergarten playground. A montage of your past together is supposed to play and make everyone in the audience watching the movie coo at how close the two of you used to be. And you’re supposed to be narrating the story of your life before the music takes a dark turn and gets all dramatic and you reveal this friendship-crushing event that destroyed your relationship and is meant to make the audience feel sympathetic towards you because you’ve painted yourself as the poor, helpless victim while Yoongi is the evil and malicious person out for your blood.

The truth is is that Yoongi isn’t out for your blood. He’s just out for your mild embarrassment, the kind that makes blood rush to your cheeks and a little frown to etch itself onto your face but the same kind that makes you realize that there could be worse things he does to you. That if this is the price to pay, you’ll take it.

The truth is is that it was always sort of like this.

“Well, how else am I supposed to reply? It’s not like Yoongi means anything by it,” you huff out.

“Gossiping about me, are we now, Y/N?”

You whip your head around to find—speak of the Devil and he shall appear—Yoongi marching across stage with a bucket of nails in his hand for the set construction. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that it was there for him to toss at you. He’s wearing paint-stained clothing, black covered in red and green and brown and white, a beanie sitting atop his bleach blonde hair. He looks so… infuriatingly good.

“Only about you,” you say sharply. Min Yoongi is your one and only nemesis in the entire drama club. Not even that kid Jungkook, who, despite his sheer size, is about as clumsy as a butterfly with a broken wing. He has, multiple times, run into you because he is too busy looking in the opposite direction when in motion. You don’t really blame him, though. He’s the only one who seems to know anything about filming things, which means that the directors put him in charge of anything to do with a camera. Which is a lot.

“I’m honored,” Yoongi tells you, one hand over his heart. He places the bucket down by the wooden planks on stage, a drill already waiting on top of them. “Keep an eye out for me, will you?”

“Min Yoongi, what are you planning now!” You shout, but he’s already beginning to drill, the noise of the drill bit pressing into the wood overwhelming your cries.

They’re the only words he speaks to you for the entire afternoon, leaving you fuming in place once more. Taehyung does absolutely nothing to help besides suggesting that you should put one of the frogs that the freshman biology kids have to dissect into his backpack, a plan that would perhaps work if it weren’t for the fact that it is equal parts hilarious and disgusting. Go big or go home, and you would rather sleep.

The only difference between before and now is that then Yoongi was a scrawny kid who wore all black and played basketball in the gymnasium alone and now he is, apparently, none of those things. Somewhere along the line Yoongi turned from a freshman into a senior and you don’t really know how you feel about it because the boy you are decidedly mortal enemies with is not supposed to look that good. That’s the problem here.

Of course, you could never voice this concern to anybody. Not even Taehyung, because Lord knows you would never hear the end of it from him. Taehyung’s wonderful, but he’s a bit of a blabbermouth, and when Taehyung finds out something the entire drama department will soon follow.

“People’s Song, folks!” One of the directors calls. “Everyone into the choir room!”

On your way over there, you lock eyes with Min Yoongi. He grins.

Ugh.

“Seokjin, are you even listening to me?” The choir director asks with a pointed look on his face, hands on his hips. Seokjin is too busy eating one of those snack packs of Nutella and breadsticks, turning around like a deer caught in the headlights, cheeks puffy and lips chocolate-y. Where did that come from? Is he even allowed to be eating in here?

“Vaguely,” he responds, making the director roll his eyes. “Can’t hear you over the sound of me quenching my hunger.”

All of the students in the room laugh over the sound of Seokjin’s teeth crunching down onto the snack.

Namjoon, with a tie around his forehead for some unknown reason (you know for a fact that the kids in charge of costumes did not put him up to this), strolls up to his boyfriend, disregarding the seating arrangement entirely to snatch a breadstick from the container. Seokjin takes notice of the accessory tied around his head and tugs on it slightly, making everyone close their eyes to shield them gross display of public affection.

The director sighs, paging back a bit in the score before hitting the pitch on his piano. “We’re starting at the top.”

He begins to play, the thick sound of the piano echoing throughout the room from the dinky speakers behind his desk. Seokjin clears his throat, coughing a little before starting.

“One day more,” he sings. “Another day, another destiny…”

Namjoon rests his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder as he sings, peering down at his lines every now and then just to see when his entrance is coming up.

“One day more,” Seokjin ends his phrase and the director continues to play, waiting for Taehyung to enter.

The only thing is that Taehyung’s been absent from school for the past two days after coming down with strep throat. You have no idea where he contracted that from, especially considering you’ve gotten strep every year since you were eleven.

“Marius?” The director stops on a clunky note. “Where is he?”

“He’s sick,” you inform him. “Strep.”

“Fine,” the director sighs, rubbing his temples. He definitely doesn’t get paid enough. “Anyone willing to fill in? You don’t have to be any good, you just need to sing.”

No one seems to be willing to take Taehyung’s part. Not that you blame them, because Marius has a fairly decent range and everyone in high school cares too much about their reputation to be willing to sacrifice their own pride for the greater good.

Well, everyone except one person.

“I will,” Yoongi volunteers from out of nowhere. You furrow your brows in disbelief as you watch him stroll over to the front of the choir room. Where the hell did he come from? Has he been here the whole time? Yoongi has almost no business being in the choir room during a practice for one of the songs when he is 1) not a choir student and 2) in stage crew. It’s like he just manifested from the dust particles floating around.

“Alright, fine,” the choir director says gruffly. “Need a script?”

“No, it’s alright,” Yoongi says, cruising over and taking the seat right next to your own. He smiles casually at you, like it’s no big deal that he just volunteered to take Taehyung’s part for this one particular song.

“What the hell are you doing,” you mutter to him.

“Using my resources,” he hisses back.

“Okay, we’re starting from the beginning again. Seokjin?”

Seokjin looks up at the call of his name with half of a baby carrot sticking out of his mouth. There’s a Ziploc bag full of them sitting on Namjoon’s lap. He chews the offending vegetable like a rabbit, quickly and furiously, before swallowing down what’s left and clearing his throat once more.

He gets through his verse with relative ease and for a brief second you think this might actually just be a normal fucking rehearsal when—

“I did not live until today,” Yoongi sings in his rough voice, gravelly yet smooth all at once. It shocks you a little bit, how decent of a singer he is. He really does have a calling for the dramatics. “How can I live when we are parted?” You can feel his gaze on your figure, even if he is glancing back and forth at the lyrics he’s pulled up on his phone. He’s waiting to see how you’ll react.

“One day more,” Seokjin continues, but you can see the way his eyes are trained on the two of you. He’s trying to be subtle about it.

“Tomorrow you’ll be worlds away, and yet with you, my world has started,” Yoongi continues, even as Eunbi—Cosette—joins in from across the room. She doesn’t seem to care that Taehyung’s not here and that Yoongi’s taken his place. You don’t really blame her—she thinks that Taehyung is the baboon of the music department and quite frankly, her thoughts are not at all misled.

“One day more, all on my own,” you begin to sing softly, barely audible over the sound of the piano keys clunking throughout the room. You don’t really know if you have the guts to look up at Yoongi.

“Will we ever meet again?” He sings, except his words aren’t directed at Cosette.

“One more day with him not caring,” the lyrics come naturally to you but the feeling of everyone watching you will always be foreign, even if you were born to be a performer. Born to be on stage.

This is different than being on stage.

“I was born to be with you,” Yoongi declares more than he sings, reaching his arm out towards you. Slowly, you begin to look up at Yoongi, who looks just about as expressive as Taehyung is whenever he serenades the goldfish in his room. He’s got his arms outstretched towards you and is singing like his life depends on it, kind of because you have the slightest feeling that you’re about to end it when you’re done with this song.

“What a life I might have known,” you sing through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at Yoongi. He is, to put it simply, wholly undeterred. This is supposed to be a romantic and wistful and hopeful tune and because of him, the entire damn song has gotten flipped—turned upside down. Marius isn’t even the one in love with Eponine. That’s the whole reason her character exists. Because he doesn’t love her.

Not that you’re implying that Yoongi feels any sort of romantic affection towards you. Impossible. There are plenty of reasons that Yoongi does shit like this but you doubt any of them are “because he loves you.”

“And I swear I will be true,” Yoongi promises, belts out with more emotion than you think you’ve ever seen him. This feels like it’s about to turn into a High School Musical scene from how dramatic Yoongi’s being.

“But he never saw me there.” It’s turned into a staring contest between you and him. Yoongi’s grinning wildly as he continues, making the tense press of your lips grow even tighter.

“One more day before the storm,” Namjoon jumps in, and it seems that he’s following Yoongi’s preferred plan of attack which is to sing like it is the last time he will ever sing. He jumps up like he’s literally part of the June Revolution, his fists curled in a power stance.

Yoongi joins in, leaping to his feet. Since when is Namjoon the instigator? “Do I follow where she goes?”

“At the barricades of freedom,” Namjoon follows, raising his arm in solidarity to whatever cause he stands for. Seokjin stands up as well, adjusting the tie around his boyfriend’s forehead as he does.

“Shall I join my brothers there?”

“When our ranks begin to form?”

“Do I stay, and do I dare?”

“Will you take your place with me?”

There comes a point where suddenly you are the only one who is still sitting in your chair, your feet rooted firmly to the ground in protest. Everyone around you is beginning to belt out the lyrics, even if it isn’t their part. You hate drama kids. Oh goodness, you hate them.

You think you might actually make it through this whole rehearsal without dying of embarrassment, but then Yoongi reaches down where he stands next to you and pulls you to your feet, making you gasp slightly at the tug. He’s gotten quite strong. It must be all of the carrying he does during stage crew.

“The time is now, the day is here!” Everyone shouts rather than sings. Yoongi looks right into your eyes as he says the lyrics and you wonder if he can see the disdain lacing your irises. If this is his attempt at another confession, it’s exceedingly poor.

“One day more!” Seokjin practically yodels before everyone dissolves into a fit of laughter. Even the choir director has a smile on his face.

“Won’t you love me, Y/N?” Yoongi asks you, closing his eyes dramatically as he opens his arms.

You look at him in disbelief. You hope he can’t see the way the fondness bleeds into your expression. “In your dreams, Min.”

It ends there.

you (7:03PM): how dare you

yeontan’s daddy (7:03PM): what did i do

you (7:04PM): be sick

yeontan’s daddy (7:04PM): well excuse me for getting strep from a certain someone

you (7:04PM): idk what ur talking about ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

yeontan’s daddy (7:05PM): Okay™ yeontan’s daddy (7:05PM): what happened today yeontan’s daddy (7:05PM): did i miss something

you (7:05PM): yoongi

yeontan’s daddy (7:06PM): omg noooooo i missed it!! yeontan’s daddy (7:06PM): i wonder if jk filmed it

you (7:06PM): im distressed and the only thing you can think about is if jungkook filmed it???????

yeontan’s daddy (7:07PM): are you questioning my priorities

you (7:07PM): i hate you

yeontan’s daddy (7:08PM): just like you hate yoongi

you (7:06PM): you are the worst best friend i have ever had

yeontan’s daddy (7:08PM): what did he do this time

you (7:09PM): he SANG TO ME you (7:09PM): SANG!! WITH HIS VOICE !!! you (7:09PM): HIS LIPS MOVED AND MADE NOISE

yeontan’s daddy (7:10PM): that is typically how people sing

you (7:10PM): HE SANG !!! IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED !!!!! I DON’T THINK SO !!!!!

yeontan’s daddy (7:10PM): i didn’t know yoongi sang

you (7:10PM): HE DOESN’T

yeontan’s daddy (7:10PM): you seem very emotional about this

you (7:10PM): IM ANGRY

yeontan’s daddy (7:11PM): is he at least a decent singer

you (7:11PM): YES

yeontan’s daddy (7:11PM): wow you’re mad

you (7:11PM): IM RAGING!!!!!

yeontan’s daddy (7:12PM): what did he sing? imo he definitely should have serenaded you with take on me

you (7:12PM): HE SANG YOUR FUCKING PART

yeontan’s daddy (7:12PM): mine????

you (7:12PM): BECAUSE YOU WEREN’T HERE TODAY

yeontan’s daddy (7:12PM): I DON’T HAVE A VOICE yeontan’s daddy (7:12PM): MY DOCTOR SAID IM CONTAGIOUS

you (7:13PM): IM MAD AT YOU

yeontan’s daddy (7:13PM): marius isn’t even in love with eponine??? it’s the other way around???

you (7:13PM): I KNOW

yeontan’s daddy (7:14PM): what were you even singing

you (7:14PM): ONE DAY MORE you (7:14PM): AND HE SANG ALL OF HIS LINES you (7:14PM): WHILE LOOKING AT ME you (7:14PM): AND IM ANGRY ABOUT IT

yeontan’s daddy (7:16PM): im going to be extremely disappointed if no one filmed this

you (7:16PM): EVERYONE JOINED IN you (7:16PM): HE GOT UP TO HIS FEET AND SUDDENLY IT WAS LIKE SOME HSM BULLSHIT you (7:16PM): I HATE THIS

yeontan’s daddy (7:19PM): i just double checked my lines for one day more and that’s like? very romantic? a 10/10 even if the delivery was a bit off

you (7:19PM): ARE YOU TAKING HIS SIDE!!!

yeontan’s daddy (7:19PM): is your caps lock button just… perpetually on

you (7:19PM): YES

yeontan’s daddy (7:19PM): you can’t possibly be this mad about being serenaded

you (7:20PM): IM DISTRESSED

yeontan’s daddy (7:20PM): is this because you literally have no idea how to navigate your feelings for yoongi

you (7:20PM): my only feelings for yoongi are disdain and general disgust

yeontan’s daddy (7:20PM): i really do not think that is true

you (7:20PM): what else could it be

yeontan’s daddy (7:23PM): hmmm yeontan’s daddy (7:23PM): i wonder

you (7:24PM): what the hell are you trying to say you (7:25PM): i know you fucking got this text you (7:26PM): do not leave me on read!!! you (7:34PM): taehyung!!!! how dare you!!!!! you (7:40PM): im calling the police !!!!! you (8:45PM): taehyung!!!!!!

It pains you to say so, but the set looks fantastic. As much as your petty grudges and general pride hate to admit it, Yoongi and his gang of gangly, uncoordinated, My Chemical Romance-listening stage crew students do a wonderful job each year, and this musical is no exception. On stage right now, in front of the background design of an unspecified French city in the early-to-mid 1800s is a pile of apparent rubbish. But it’s meant to be like that, old tables and chairs and even the damn piano from the choir room all mashed together, glued and nailed and enforced with random wooden planks here and there, meant to look like a real French barricade built haphazardly by students who most definitely aren’t gifted in the arts of engineering and invention. And if Namjoon, king of standing on top of things he shouldn’t be standing on top of, can climb to the top without either toppling over or bringing the whole construction down with him, then it must be sturdy as hell.

“You’re rousing, Namjoon,” the director tells him. The student in question is wobbling as he makes his way up the mountain of random household objects, Seokjin standing a couple of feet away on the sidelines and looking on fondly. “Be more… revolutionary. You’re calling everyone to action, right?”

“Right,” Namjoon nods, but the action makes him lose his footing for a quick second. He regains it nearly as fast, but not before Seokjin’s darting over, instinct telling him to protect the one he loves.

“Okay, so act like it,” the director says.

“Red, the blood of angry men!” Namjoon cries, his voice the slightest bit melodic that it needs to be. Seokjin looks on like a very pleased boyfriend.

“More! Angrier!” The director encourages. He’s been working on getting Namjoon to act more like a revolutionary in France in the early nineteenth century for a while now, most as a result of Namjoon’s insecurity of his ability to act like one. The thing is, you’ve seen Namjoon in debates in your political science class. And you’ve seen the way he protests the way that student minorities are always punished more severely than those that aren’t. And you’ve read his essays about the oppression of women’s rights in modern society. Namjoon’s about as revolutionary as they come, powerful, intelligent, noble—he just doesn’t know it.

“Red, the blood of angry men!” Namjoon says, getting provoked by the director. All of the students on stage are feeling the June Rebellion coursing through their veins, angry yet determined expressions lacing their features as they all engage in various revolutionary activity.

“Good, good!” The director emphasizes.

“Black, the dark of ages past!” continues Namjoon, getting a bit daring and moving to stand taller. He’s nearly at the top of the Mount Everest of rubbish. “Red, a world about to dawn!”

Namjoon takes one giant step, knee knocking into the edge of some table, and reaches the very peak of the trash pile. He balances himself on some sort of ledge and triumphantly raises both of his fists in the air, and with a great big, empowering grin, shouts, “Black, the night that ends at last!”

At this exact moment, ironically enough, all of the lights on stage shut off. The ones in the pit soon follow after a split second, and then the entire auditorium is shrouded in darkness.

“What the fuck,” you can hear Namjoon mutter to himself. He doesn’t dare move for fear of misplacing his foot and crashing to the stage floor.

“Go, Yoongi, go!”

The director doesn’t even have time to shout Hoseok’s name before you hear some random scuffling, rushed and quick and very disorganized. You whip your head around, hoping to spot the offending stage crew manager and the entourage he has somehow gathered to do his dirty work, but then the lights flicker back on, one by one from the back of the auditorium all the way to the stage, where Min Yoongi stands in the center with the megaphone held to his mouth.

Fuck. Oh, fuck. You already know exactly what’s about to happen and you try and hide yourself, sinking into the sweater you’re wearing as you quickly scan for any means of escape or disguise. Maybe you can go hide behind Jungkook, since he’s standing in the middle of the seats with a fat camera in his hand, filming the whole thing. You’re about to make a mad dash before Yoongi can do anything when you hear a crackling sound and—

“Y/N!” Yoongi shouts into the megaphone, his voice mildly unintelligible and cracked around the edges. He doesn’t really need to shout, not when he’s got a megaphone in his hand, but here he is.

“Oh my God,” you say in shock, your head slowly sinking into your hands. “Oh. My God.”

“IF I HAD TO CHOOSE BETWEEN GOING TO HARVARD AND GETTING TO DATE YOU, I WOULD DATE YOU,” Yoongi continues, voice blaring. “SORRY FOR CAUSING ALL OF THIS RUCKUS, DIRECTORS, BUT YOU KNOW I HAD TO DO IT TO ‘EM. SPECIFICALLY Y/N. BECAUSE I LOVE HER.”

“Christ almighty,” you continue to mutter, knowing fully well that Jungkook is panning back and forth between where you stand in the pit and where Yoongi stands on stage.

“I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH GRANDER I CAN GO WITH THESE, Y/N. I’M RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS. YOU SHOULD BE WORRIED.”

Taehyung snickers somewhere next to you.

“IN ANY CASE, NOW THAT I’VE CAUSED ENOUGH DISRUPTION, PLEASE DON’T FIRE ME AS HEAD OF STAGE CREW. WE FINISHED ALL OF THE SETUP. I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING LEFT TO DO. I HAVE ONE FINAL QUESTION.”

It’s a wonder that Yoongi hasn’t auditioned for any sort of drama show because he’d almost be guaranteed a main role. What with all of this nonsense.

“WILL YOU, Y/N, DO ME THE HONOR OF GOING OUT ON A DATE WITH ME?”

Yoongi then proceeds to hand the megaphone off to Jimin, who has seemingly appeared out of nowhere, who grabs it in his baby-sized hands and rushes towards you with it. He hands it over to you and points to the button you’re meant to press to get the thing to turn on.

“Is this the best you can do, Min?” You ask in response, a challenge that he’s definitely going to accept. You’re digging your own grave here but you don’t have the heart to just straight up reject him, especially not when he’s managed to corral all of the kids in stage crew and the tech kids up in the light and soundbooth to do this for him. This is like some twisted promposal gone completely wrong. “Step your game up and then maybe I’ll consider it.”

With that, you hand the megaphone back to a very disgruntled director and continue on with your day. On stage, Yoongi is handing out high-fives to his entire crew, considering this endeavor a success. Or at least, a not-failure. The directors are trying to wrangle everyone up again to rehearse but consider their efforts fruitless and give a ten minute break.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say no,” Taehyung says in disbelief as he comes up next to you, arms crossed over his chest. “I thought Yoongi was a goner.”

“I’m being benevolent,” you inform him. “Next time he pulls some shit like this and I’m locking him up in the catwalk. When they tear this school down they will find his skeleton, still wearing that goddamn black beanie.”

“Wow, you really thought that out,” Taehyung comments, mildly impressed. Then, because he’s got the attention span of a puppy in a park, “I can’t believe you said you’d consider it. Since when do you consider anything to do with Yoongi?”

“I told you I was being benevolent.”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually warming up to the idea of going out with him. I’ll die of shock.”

“You sure that strep throat didn’t infect your brain?” You tease, ruffling his head.

“I think it might have, considering I just had a dream where you said you might actually consider going on a date with Yoongi.”

“I’m getting his hopes up so that I can crush them with my bare hands,” you say, glancing towards Yoongi. He seems to notice your gaze upon him and sends you some classic finger guns and an incredibly greasy wink, neither of which you return. “Like a grape.”

“I have never seen you crush a grape with your bare hands before.”

“Bring grapes tomorrow.”

“Regardless, you’re not that cruel, Y/N. You told Yoongi to step his game up and he will and if you reject him, I won’t be able to figure out if it’s all in good fun or not. It’s a fine line to cross, Y/N,” Taehyung warns cautiously, giving you a pointed look. You sigh. This isn’t how you pictured this conversation with Taehyung going. You thought he would just applaud you for not being so heartless but now he’s off preaching.

“I don’t know why he keeps doing it,” you think aloud. It’s never-ending, the confessions, over and over again without any sort of break in between. They’ve become so common that it’s a part of your routine at this point, something you just expect to happen despite their general spontaneity. It’s not so much that they’re predictable as it is they’re nice surprises.

Taehyung frowns. “Have you ever told him to stop?” He asks you with his eyebrows raised, a valid point to be making. “You know that if you told him to stop he would, right? He’s not that much of an asshole.”

You open your mouth to defend yourself when the realization hits you. It’s never occurred to you that you’ve never told Yoongi to stop with all of this nonsense, even after year after year of it. You know Yoongi well enough to know that if something he was doing made you feel truly uncomfortable, he wouldn’t continue doing it. He’s a decent guy like that. Taehyung’s right. Yoongi would stop the moment you asked him to.

But why haven’t you? Even after four years of having to hear him proclaim his undying affection for you in elaborate and schemed ways, you’ve never once told him no. You’ve accepted it as reality and continued on with your life.

It’s come so far that now you just expect them.

Like you’re waiting for the next time.

“You’re thinking awful hard about this,” Taehyung notes as he pops a piece of white cheddar popcorn into his mouth.

“I’m distressed,” you tell him.

“Have you ever once considered the idea that you may, in fact, enjoy the attention you receive from him?”

You scoff as a knee-jerk reaction. “Don’t be ridiculous. I hate him.”

Taehyung frowns. “I don’t really think that you do.”

“Can you stop doing that?” You ask bitterly.

Taehyung raises a brow. “Doing what?”

“Being all cryptic and shit. Whenever we talk about me and Yoongi all you do is dodge my questions and be vague. Extremely unhelpful,” you pout. Taehyung’s your best friend—he should be the one telling you the things you don’t know. Every time you ask him to spell something out for you he jumbles up the letters like a child with a magnetic alphabet on his fridge.

“I’m not here to police your feelings for him,” Taehyung tells you.

“My feelings for him?”

“Tell me right now, to my face, that you hate him. If you can, I’ll believe you.”

You turn to him, glare into Taehyung’s deep brown eyes, and open your mouth. The words should come easily to you—after all, you’ve been repeating them to yourself for years now—but your tongue is dry.

You know you can’t say that you hate Yoongi. Because you don’t. You really, really don’t. Maybe he’s loud and obnoxious and spontaneous and outrageous but you don’t hate that about him. He cares deeply and works hard and always makes sure that the stage crew is organized and prepared and treats them with respect and you don’t hate him. You can’t.

“Knew it,” Taehyung says, shaking his head. “You’re awfully soft, did you know that, Y/N? Always have been.”

“I take personal offense to that.”

“You’re such a goner for him, don’t you know that?” Taehyung asks. He motions his head towards Yoongi, who’s laughing on stage with Jimin and Seokjin. They’re tossing Goldfish into each other’s mouth, and one hits Yoongi on the nose before falling to the floor. He’s laughing. They all are, but Yoongi beaming. He outshines everyone on stage even if he isn’t an actor himself. He’s wondrous.

You sigh. “Yeah. I know.”

After your final dress rehearsal, everyone’s deadbeat tired. It’s nearing eleven at night and you think you’ve set a record for how long you can be in your school building in one go. Even Taehyung’s about to fall asleep, and the man downed a venti Starbucks coffee during the last period of the day.

“Good run, folks!” Your director shouts. “You guys will be amazing on Thursday, I know it! Get some much needed rest. No practice tomorrow, so don’t show up here otherwise I’ll have to hear about it from management!”

Everyone groans out their response as they gather their bags, wiping off the makeup on their faces with dried-out wipes and dampened paper towels. Right now, there is no place more enticing to you than your bed back home, sheets crumpled and warm.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” Taehyung shouts as he’s bounding down the steps outside, jumping into the passenger seat of his older brother’s car. Normally he’d be offering to drive you home but his car’s in the shop. The damn thing was on its last legs anyway. It needed some repairs.

“See you!” You wave back, turning to go back inside the auditorium. It’s oddly cold tonight, and you underprepared with just a t-shirt, so you’re trying to conserve as much warmth as you can before your ride comes.

The auditorium’s mostly cleared out, lights dim and hazy. But there in the middle is Yoongi, leaning down to clean up the remnants of the nonsense on stage. He looks so alone, up on stage without anybody else. Nobody seems to have stayed back to help him.

Your ride can wait a couple minutes.

You drop your backpack down in one of the seats next to the aisle as you walk up to him, strides longer to get you there faster.

“Need some help?” You ask.

Your voice catches him off guard, and he looks up with his mouth in the shape of a small ‘o’. He blinks a couple of times, like he’s processing the fact that you’re here, standing in front of him, offering a hand.

“Me? Oh, yeah. That would be nice, thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

You come up on stage and Yoongi directs you to the broom hanging up on the wall so you can dust away anything left on stage—not that there’s very much. In his hands, Yoongi’s got a couple stray pieces of paper and some safety pins that must have fallen off some of the costumes. Jimin will need those.

You fall into this silence as the two of you clean up what’s left. Most of it’s just tidying up, organizing the props on the tables backstage so that everything’s in order for the show in a couple days, but it’s important. Important enough for you and Yoongi to be the only two people left to do it.

This is the kind of thing that’s supposed to be awkward and romantic at the same time. You and Yoongi are the only ones left in this dark auditorium as the moon waits above your head for some miracle to play out. You don’t know what to say to each other but your company is enough of an icebreaker. His mere presence fills up the space, even if he’s one lonely man on a giant stage. Yoongi’s exhausted, the bags under his eyes deep and dark, much like your own. Alongside being part of the drama club as a whole, you’re also officers of it, meaning the two of you take on responsibilities nobody else in the club would dare to. You love this, love being on stage and acting and entertaining others, but days like this are draining.

“You should get some rest,” Yoongi breaks through the layer of tension in the air. You didn’t even realize that it had settled until he waved it away. He walks up to you with a damp rag in his hand from wiping down the set for the last time to clean it of any dust that might have settled.

“You too,” you tell him softly, holding the broom close to your body to give your hands something to do.

“I’m not the one performing on stage in a couple days,” says Yoongi, smiling to himself.

“Just because I’m under the lights and you aren’t doesn’t make you any less important, Min,” you say to him, looking down at your feet because you don’t think you could bear looking into his eyes. It’s dark, everything’s dark, from his hat to his clothes to the stage to the auditorium to his irises. “Without you, we’d have no show.”

“I—I mean I just move stuff off and on stage,” Yoongi admits shyly. Why does he think so little of himself? Doesn’t he know how much he matters?

“You built the damn stage,” you tell him, finally mustering up enough courage to look him in the eye. You signal to the rest of the set, designed and constructed and decorated perfectly, a display of all of his hard work, right in front of him. There’s not a thing out of place. At least, it doesn’t look that way to you. “This was all you.”

“I had a lot of help,” he whispers.

“So did I,” you tell him. “What you do here matters, Min,” you stress, hoping he’ll understand. Hoping he’ll know how much his work means to you. How much he means to you. “You matter.”

It’s then that Yoongi looks up. He’s got his dark pink lips in that little ‘o’ again, but then they shift into a small smile, miniscule. You’d probably hardly be able to see it if you weren’t so close to him. His eyes crinkle up ever so slightly. God, he’s…

“I’ll see you at the show on Thursday, okay?” Yoongi asks, eyes hopeful. He doesn’t need to be hopeful, not when you and him both have to show up no matter what, but he asks it like he isn’t sure. He should be.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. For some reason, you can’t wait to see him again.

“Eponine! Eponine, come on!”

Namjoon’s shouting your name as you rush backstage. It’s the finale for Act One and you barely had time to get yourself situated since your last scene, dirtying up your clothes a bit more and covering your cheeks with brown and black eyeshadow. Time passes by too quickly for this show, strange enough since it’s long as hell.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you whisper shout in response, coming up next to Namjoon. You look across the stage in the hopes that maybe you can catch a glimpse of Yoongi, but you’ve barely seen him at all since you arrived to get into your costume. Maybe a couple of glances, here or there, but other than that he seems to be entirely AWOL.

“One Day More, One Day More!” Namjoon tells you in a hurry and you rush on stage, hidden in the darkness as you stand, waiting for your cue.

The lights on stage come back on. Seokjin stands in the center in his Jean Valjean costume, looks out into the audience, and begins to sing. Soon enough, Taehyung and Eunbi join him on stage, standing a few feet away from him as they sing to each other. The spotlight’s on just them for right now as they share their song, but soon enough you feel the heat of the light on you and join in.

Just for now, any thought of Yoongi evaporates from your mind. You can’t really think of him, not as you stand on stage and sing for your friends, your family, anyone who has come to see this show on this rainy Thursday night. The Act One Finale is always your favorite thing to perform, just because it’s so energetic, inclusive, fun.

Soon the entire cast is on stage, each person singing their part as the pit plays beneath you. It’s your first showing but undoubtedly not your best, even as you accidentally stumble over your words when you spot Yoongi rushing around backstage, just a momentary glimpse of him. He looks awfully busy.

The song comes to a close and the lights turn off to a round of applause from the audience. The curtains close, the whirring of the machine that moves them barely audible over the sound of the cast members shuffling off stage. Intermission’s meant to last about fifteen minutes, just long enough for everyone to change and clean up and for the stage crew to set up for the next scene. You’re sweating from being under the lights, hair matted by your forehead where your perspiration collects, and you wipe away what you can with a paper towel as you head off stage to take a breather.

You’re barely out into the hallway when you feel someone grab onto your wrist at the same time a voice outside says, “Attention, everyone, could I just get your attention for a moment?”

It’s Yoongi.

Eyes wide, you turn to the person holding onto your wrist to find your best friend smiling guiltily at you, like he knows something you don’t. He definitely knows something you don’t.

“Taehyung, what on earth are you doing?” You hiss at him, but he shrugs.

“I’m being the best friend in the entire world,” Taehyung responds, before he pulls you down to the doors that lead to the pit, opening them and pushing you into the auditorium. Almost immediately, a light shines on you, and you wince as your eyes adjust to the glare. Taehyung waves up to Hoseok. “Go!” Taehyung shouts, motioning up to where Yoongi stands, rocking back and forth in his all black Converse, a microphone in his hand.

Your hardened expression softens into something grossly fond as you make your way up the stairs onto the stage, the spotlight following your each and every step. Yoongi waits at the top like a groom watching his bride come down the aisle. You can’t help but feel like that comparison isn’t too far off.

“Sorry to disrupt your, uh, intermission, everyone,” he says gruffly into the microphone. “This’ll be really quick.” You can tell that he doesn’t want to look into your eyes but he can’t figure out a better place to put his gaze. “Anyway, Y/N, you know that I do a lot of dumb sh—I mean, stuff to get your attention and then you said that I should step my game up so here we are.”

Even if this the most public any one of his elaborate confessions has been, it doesn’t feel that way. You’ve got an entire audience this time, both in the seats and backstage, everyone watching as Yoongi tries one more time. You can hear the doors leading to the pit opening as the entire cast tries to get a glimpse of what’s happening on stage.

This feels different.

It feels different because suddenly Yoongi’s the speechless one, cheeks bright red as he tries to curl into his clothing, sink into the fabric impossibly closer. You’re the one receiving whatever love confession is on the end of this but now he’s the one who’s unsure and embarrassed. It’s kind of endearing, really.

“You’ve probably heard me say this a bunch but I figured there was no better way to say it than in front of the audience for the first night of our show, right?” He forces a chuckle and it makes him cough a little. You can’t help but smile at him. “I don’t know, you’ve always been so wonderful and kind and strong and funny and you make everyone around you laugh, even me, and I make all of these elaborate schemes to ask you out on a date with me but I feel like doing this whole thing just for a date is a bit shallow, so I’ve decided on something else.”

It’s then that Jung Hoseok, decked out in a black hoodie three times the size of his torso and skintight pants, shuffles onto stage with a single rose in his hand. It’s a lavender purple rose. You didn’t even realize that they sold those.

“Anyway, what I’m really trying to say before everyone in the audience gets fed up with me for taking time out of their intermission is, well,” Yoongi teeters on his feet awkwardly, leaning his weight from one side to the other as he twirls the rose between his fingers. “Will you go to prom with me?”

You open your mouth to respond but Seokjin beats you to it.

“Say yes!” He shouts from the sidelines, making Yoongi laugh.

Yoongi looks so nervous. So unsure of himself yet so hopeful, wishing and wishing and wishing. You’ve got a four year streak of turning him down and for the longest time you swore you’d never break it but things are different now.

“I’d love to, Min.”

Yoongi lights up, not even like a Christmas tree but like the whole fucking Christmas display at the mall, the one with reindeers and snowflakes and everything. He lights up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. He carefully gives the rose to you but you crush it between your fingers as you hug him, pull him close.

Everyone in the audience cheers. Taehyung’s shouting, “That’s my best friend! That’s my best friend right there!” Next to him, Jungkook’s got his camera up, filming the boy in all black with a pink tinge to his cheeks and the girl in tattered rags with dirt covering her face.

When you and Yoongi walk off stage to join your friends behind the scenes, he laces his fingers in between yours. You don’t anticipate on letting go for a long while.

“Can we banish them from the couch?” Hoseok asks loudly, over the music playing from the television. “They’re being all date-y and shit.”

“We are dating, you asshole,” Yoongi shouts. He’s got one arm wrapped around your side as the other holds the phone up in front of your faces, your body curled into him with your knees tucked close to your chest, leaning against him.

“That’s up to the man of the house, Hobi,” Jimin says as he hands Hoseok another root beer. He motions to Seokjin, who is entirely too busy laughing his entire ass off as he plays What Do You Meme? with Namjoon, Taehyung, Eunbi, and Jungkook on the carpet. They seem to be having a grand old time. You move your head over slightly to see them battling over who won the card with that blue button meme with the giant word NUT written on top of it. Namjoon eventually gives the round to Seokjin, prompting everyone else to accuse them of cheating because they’re dating.

“I hate this so much,” Hoseok says, sighing. “What are you guys even watching?”

“It’s this video of an owner dressing up as their dog’s favorite toy,” Yoongi says without taking his eyes off of the video. The dog starts smothering its owner in kisses. God, you don’t deserve dogs.

“You guys might not want to sit on the left side of that couch!” Seokjin shouts as a warning from across the way, eyebrows raised and cheeks tinged a hazy red in the dim light of his living room.

You and Yoongi look at each other, confused for a brief second, before the both of you start groaning, quickly getting up from where you were seated and searching for another place of lodging. Did you need to know what Seokjin and Namjoon do in their free time? Absolutely not. Did you find out anyway? Unfortunately.

“Hey, deal us in,” you say to Taehyung, settling down in between him and Jungkook. Yoongi takes a seat beside you as Taehyung hands each of you seven cards. Your boyfriend—God, that’s so nice to say—instantly laughs, hearty and loud and wonderful, upon reading the first one.

The next meme Namjoon pulls from the box is the one photo from when Obama gave Joe Biden the Presidential Medal of Freedom. Everyone laughs at the sight of it as they play their cards. It’s Seokjin’s turn to judge.

When he flips over the last card, it’s a freestyle one. Taehyung immediately claims it as his own.

“Go on, give us what you got, Tae,” Namjoon says.

Taehyung clears his throat before announcing, “When Y/N finally said yes to going out with Yoongi after four years of being too constipated in her feelings to realize that she liked him.”

The night fades out like the end of a film, the last scene of a play, with everyone laughing as you beat your best friend with your fists for being so goddamn awful. Yoongi presses an insistent kiss to your forehead as Seokjin easily hands that one to Taehyung, who takes the meme card with pride.

The curtain closes.

thank you so much for reading! i just learned that i can’t put links on my posts otherwise tumblr x-nays them for the search engine, so if you wanna talk to me, hit up my ask box!

[moonwest]

Full Ben Whishaw Interview in Sunday Times Magazine

Ben Whishaw, the voice of Paddington, the millennial Q in the Bond films, the next generation of Mr Banks in Disney’s epic Mary Poppins reboot, is fresh off the plane from LA. He is wearing a navy shirt, dark wool trousers and a fluffy knitted hat over his lush curls. It’s a strange combination of quirkiness and elegance. At the start of the year he won a Golden Globe and a Critics’ Choice award for his captivating portrayal of Norman Scott opposite Hugh Grant’s Jeremy Thorpe in A Very English Scandal. Of course he says he didn’t expect to win, and of course he says it feels great, but when I ask if this recognition from Hollywood means he’ll spend more time out there, he says: “No idea. I don’t feel it’s my world. I just sort of dropped in and it was a lovely thing. I would like to drop in more often. Maybe it opens doors. I guess we’ll see.”

For now, it’s back to the day job. Whishaw, 38, is rehearsing a play called Norma Jeane Baker of Troy, in which he plays a man who likes to dress up as Marilyn Monroe. “We just got the costumes,” he says. “I wear a dress that’s a replica of the one she wore in The Seven Year Itch — the white one where the wind comes up. They’ve also given me the bum, hips and breasts. I don’t think they’re as big as Marilyn’s, but they’re proportionate to my body. It’s a strange thing. I’m not playing Marilyn, I’m playing a man who’s infatuated with her. The play is set in the year she died and he’s in mourning for her. Apparently there was a spate of copycat suicides that year.”

To research the role, Whishaw has been reading a book called Fragments. “It’s bits of Marilyn’s diary, notes on hotel paper, poetry,” he says. “She writes beautifully. Arthur Miller was here with her when they were doing the film The Prince and the Showgirl, and she opened his diary and read about how disappointed he was with her, how embarrassed he was being around his intellectual friends with her. Apparently this was devastating to Marilyn. All these men say how difficult she was. It makes you want to strangle them. But she really was amazing. She had a lot going on, a lot of sadness on her plate, poor darling. To be a star in that star system and those men.”

If she had been born 50 years later, does he think she would have been part of the #MeToo movement? “I’m sure she would have. I’ve been listening to interviews with her. She doesn’t seem afraid of anything.”

Fearless and vulnerable. It’s a contradiction that could possibly describe both of them. “Yes,” he smiles.

Almost 15 years have passed since Whishaw, fresh out of Rada, was acclaimed as one of the best ever Hamlets in the Trevor Nunn production at the Old Vic. His portrayal earned him an Olivier nomination and opened the door to film and television roles. He voiced Michael Bond’s Peruvian stowaway bear in the two recent Paddington films and is lined up for a third, as well as an animated TV series for Nickelodeon. Perhaps his best known role is Q in the Bond films Skyfall (2012) and Spectre (2015). As soon as he’s finished his Marilyn, he will begin shooting the next one, though no one in a Bond movie can tell you in advance what it’s going to be like. “I think they’re probably trying to figure out what to do with the storyline,” he says. “At least I know that my character is the same. Someone did tell me there might be a scene with Q’s cats.”

I immediately want to sort out an audition for my cat Roger Moore.

“Does Roger travel?” he asks. “Could he go to Pinewood? And can he cock an eyebrow?”

Yes, he can. That’s why he’s called Roger Moore.

“I’ll get onto Barbara Broccoli about it,” he says.

Whishaw has created an ever-widening niche for himself — he has made room in film, theatre and television for malleable, sensitive male characters that are sometimes described as androgynous, but what they really are is sexually ambiguous.

“Do you think I’m androgynous? I think I’m quite male-looking. Androgyny is different to non-binary, but I hate all these labels. I get mixed up.”

It’s true, there are many labels; nonetheless Whishaw is a 21st-century man. When you think of those macho actors of the last century, men like Rock Hudson, who revealed he was gay only when he was dying of Aids, it seems so different now.

Whishaw entered a civil partnership with the Australian composer Mark Bradshaw in 2012, but for a long time he did not discuss his private life. He would say things like, “An actor shouldn’t reveal their sexuality because it pigeonholes them.” Once he had come to terms with it himself, however, hiding it became difficult in a different way. “People assume there’s some juicy secret,” he says. “But I don’t agree any more with that statement [about being pigeonholed]. I don’t think it’s the be-all and end-all, and since revealing my sexuality I haven’t had any negative effects.”

Perhaps that’s because he is such a skilful actor, perhaps the pigeonholes aren’t as rigid as they used to be, or perhaps the revelation has actually helped him. He shrugs. He doesn’t mind talking about it now, it’s just he can’t be conclusive.

At one point, Whishaw was lined up to play Freddie Mercury in Bohemian Rhapsody, although he was never given a contract or confirmed officially. Various versions of the biopic had been on the cards for about 10 years. Sacha Baron Cohen was in the frame first of all, then Whishaw, and ultimately Rami Malek. The film has been accused of not being “gay enough”, but, for all the criticism, Malek’s career-defining role won him an Oscar.

We talk about how hard it was for Mercury to admit that he was gay and how he would refer to himself as bisexual. But then perhaps he was. He certainly had sexual relationships with women. “I think it’s very unfair when people say they’re bisexual and they’re accused of being gay really,” Whishaw says. “If we’re honest about these things, perhaps most people are on a spectrum.”

Whatever the risks he took in revealing his sexuality to the public, Whishaw found it much harder coming out to his family. “I’ve gone through a few difficult things,” he says. “There was a moment in my early twenties when I did not feel very good about myself. It was to do with my sexuality and not knowing how to be myself and hating myself. I did know [my sexuality], I just couldn’t tell anyone.”

When he eventually told his parents, they weren’t surprised, but he still struggled. He sought therapy. “It really did help,” he says.

He carries himself with such a sense of otherness that I am surprised to learn he is a twin. “We were born on the same day and we came out of the same place at the same time, but we are totally unalike,” he says. “Perhaps you can see we are related, but we don’t look alike. He’s blond. He came out first and was very pink and chubby. And I was this squashed, dark thing that popped out a few moments after. We were so different, but we were always dressed the same and taken everywhere together, even to things I was not interested in, like football. So I’ve always defined myself by him, but in opposition to him. I like everything different to him. There’s not a single thing we have in common, except we both liked the scary rides if we were taken to a park.”

Don’t twins normally have a kind of supernatural understanding? “No. No understanding, no telepathy. When I told him [about being gay], he wasn’t surprised, of course, but still.”

He notices a black crystal around my neck and I explain that it was given to me by my hypnotherapist.

“I’d like to try hypnotherapy,” he says. For what? “Smoking,” he says. “It’s so frowned upon. You feel ostracised from the world if you smoke. And there’s the hair twiddling thing.” He starts twiddling his hair. “I’ve probably been doing this for the whole interview.” He hasn’t, but apparently it’s been a lifelong habit. “I’ve done it since I was a baby. I don’t know why I do it.”

I recall the title of a Peter Cook anthology: Tragically, I Was an Only Twin. That’s what Whishaw seems like. I can’t imagine him with a brother. “My dad says if my brother and I were one person we would be an amazing, perfect human,” he replies.

It’s often reported that his father works in IT, but that’s not true. “He lives in the countryside and raises chickens behind a farm. He used to be a footballer and he now works in sports with young people. He’s not an IT person at all,” Whishaw laughs. His mother works in cosmetics. They split up when he was a young boy, but he has good relationships with both of them. He talks about them with love.

The last time we met, Whishaw told me he was afraid of meeting people. “I haven’t got over that,” he says. “I love people, but I’m just shy of meeting new people, especially when they’re famous.”

In particular, he was bashful around Meryl Streep, whom he starred alongside in Mary Poppins. “I’m so completely left speechless when I’m in the same room as her. Do you never feel that speechlessness come on you?” he asks sweetly. “Even though she seemed to be the nicest person, I was very timid and shy around her.”

It’s odd how someone so shy can look so confident — smouldering even — on screen.

He walks off in the furry hat that makes him look part man, part mole. It’s certainly a statement. But perhaps the most curious thing about Whishaw is we’ll never entirely know what that statement is.

Norma Jeane Baker of Troy is showing at the Shed’s Bloomberg Building, New York, April 6-May 19; theshed.org

[contemplatingoutlander]

Mature adults accept reality and try to make the best of it rather than trying to twist their perceptions of reality to meet their needs

This post was submitted by Anon.

CT don’t believe Cait and Tony photos together. To continue their false narrative and call Cait a liar they did this manip of Cait sitting at the table with Tony in Bristol and replaced Tony’s head Sam’s. This proves that most photos are manipulated. Their insanity is getting excruciating at this point and some are so enraged and getting so unhinged they’re willing to do anything to prove they’ve been lied to and manipulated.

https://loveisloveislove76.tumblr.com/post/185409474260/those-airport-photos-have-been-manipulated-im#notes

_______________

CO responded: Thanks for the information Anon! I was shown this post earlier today in DM.

________________________________

The photo was taken by a fan on their phone, with Tony and Cait in front of a window. Of course it is poor quality. Of course there are going to be imperfections when it is enlarged. That doesn’t mean it was photoshopped.

This is what I got when I decreased the exposure for the photo, increased the contrast and used unsharp mask for sharpening:

Tony must have gotten a haircut. You can certainly see the stubble on the back of his neck. In terms of shadow, he is standing in front of a huge window. He is going to be silhouetted and so that is going to affect the shadows.

That’s Tony. He was at the airport with Cait. Fans saw them there and photographed them. There was no manip.

Tony looked taller because he was standing on a platform. But he is thin and he is above average in height. Here he is standing next to Cait who is 5′10″ and probably wearing heels.

Furthermore, we have photo evidence that Sam was in Glasgow with the gang (and no Cait) on April 20th and April 21st (Easter).

Sam DIDN’T go to the airport with Cait to fake a flight to Ireland and have Tony manipulated over his face in a fan photo. (Do you realize how bizarre your theory is?)

A fan also saw Tony with Cait in Somerset. It was not a manip. She was not hired by Starz PR to fake something. If she were hired as a professional, she would not have engaged with fans on her IG nor would she have let her child with special needs get on her IG account and interact with the fans.

But I’m not going to argue this further. These women are desperately grasping at straws and they are embarrassing themselves.

They have called every single fan who ever had a sighting of Cait and Tony (or Sam and his various SOs) a liar and they are doing it again.

According to SamCait conspiracy theorists (CTs), everyone is lying to them, especially Sam and Cait.

The reality is that the CTs are lying to each other and to themselves.

And their “sources” have been playing them for years.

Many SamCait CTs seem to lose their ability to reason logically and to use their common sense when it comes to Sam and Cait.

No B list actor would ever go through what they think Sam and Cait go through to hide a relationship (much less “secret children”). No studio would make them do it for any reason. They would also have no legal grounds to do so in this day and age.

I’m sorry but in my opinion the CTs who made the Sam manip and who are claiming Tony was manipulated into photos of Sam with Cait are behaving like children who just can’t accept the faux narrative they created years ago wasn’t real.

source

It’s way past time to grow up.

I was a SamCait shipper back in 2015 but I figured out early that they weren’t a couple. To me Tony’s friend Gerry B wouldn’t have tweeted in December 2014 and January 2015 that Cait was Tony’s girlfriend–months before the show came to the UK and she was famous there–unless Cait really was his girlfriend.

And then my friend K whose SamCait shipping blog was only second to Jess’ back in 2015 went into Tony’s bar to try to debunk that he was Cait’s boyfriend and in fact ended up finding out he was. She was a dyed in the wool shipper. She was devastated. That isn’t what she hoped to find. She had no reason to lie.

The rest of the fandom figured out Sam and Cait weren’t a couple years ago but SamCait conspiracy theorists kept clinging to the ship. 

It is way past time to accept the reality that Sam and Cait aren’t a couple and to just celebrate them as wonderful actors who bring Jamie and Claire to life. 

It’s time to stop trying to twist reality to fit a shipping narrative that was never true.

[easyhairstylesbest]

Cicely Tyson on the ‘Power’ of Her 1973 Oscar Nom: ‘That Was My Dream’

The day I learned I’d been nominated for an Oscar, I was filming a small role for a new Black director. Just as I was delivering an important line, I heard laughter on the sidelines of the set. “Don’t they know we’re shooting in here?” I snapped. “What’s the matter with them?” A moment later, a producer walked in. “We’ve just gotten some good news,” he said. I held up my hand. “I don’t want to hear anything,” I told him. “Whatever it is can wait.” When I am working, I show up to do exactly that. All else is a distraction, a disruption to an unfolding moment. The gentleman smiled, shook his head, and left.

The director, who must’ve heard the news that awaited, gave me a strange look before we resumed. We completed the scene, and even on my way out, I wouldn’t let anyone tell me anything. It was upon arriving home, at my agent Haber’s place, that he gave me the exhilarating announcement: I’d been nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress. “Really?” I said, the living room suddenly swirling out of focus. “Yes!” he yelped. As tears flooded my face, all I could think about were my friend Arthur Mitchell’s words to me: “You’re going to be nominated for an Oscar.” My friend’s what-if had come true.

I don’t care what any actor says, that golden statue matters. It is what we’re all vying for—the ultimate validation from our peers. You empty yourself into a character, you labor hour upon hour to get every single gesture and sentence precise, and you mean to tell me that such an affirmation means nothing to you? It holds tremendous power. When I was just getting into the business, I’d looked on in awe as Sidney Poitier earned that affirmation for his marvelous work in Lilies of the Field, becoming the first Black man to win an Academy Award for Best Actor. That evening, as I watched the ceremony on my old black-and-white RCA set, I said to myself, I’m going to sit in the front at the Oscars one day. That was my dream. But as my career carried me mostly toward stage and television, that hope seemed unlikely. That is why, long before I did Sounder, I’d quietly accepted that the Academy Awards would probably not be part of my path. And yet, lo and behold, here I was, on the verge of taking a seat in that front row I’d envisioned for myself.

Cicely Tyson as Rebecca in Sounder.

Stanley Bielecki Movie CollectionGetty Images

My good news was just the beginning. Sounder received a slew of nominations, for Best Picture, Best Writing (Lonne Elder), and Best Actor (I was as delighted for Paul Winfield as I was for myself). The film’s message also reverberated beyond our shores, earning a BAFTA nomination for its score, created by Taj Mahal, who also earned a Grammy for his work. Kevin Hooks, who played my son (and who, in real life, is the son of director and actor Robert Hooks), received a Golden Globe nomination. That awards season also became a landmark recognition of Black talent: Diana Ross was nominated for an Oscar for her role in Lady Sings the Blues, as was screenplay writer Suzanne de Passe. The 1973 nominations for Diana Ross and myself were the first time Black women had been nominated in the Best Actress category since trailblazer Dorothy Dandridge received the honor in 1954 for her role in Carmen Jones.

The morning after the official nomination announcement in Los Angeles, I called my mother in New York. On television, she’d seen how all those white folks had stood and applauded me. “Well?” I said to her. “Well, what?” she said chuckling. “You’d better tell me something,” I said. The line went silent. “I am so proud of you, Sister,” she finally said. I could feel tears brimming and I let them fall, unable to speak because I was so overcome by what I’d longed to hear. If I had not heard those words from my mother, none of this would have made any difference. If she had not been able to participate in the acclaim I was receiving, all of it would’ve felt empty to me.

I, of course, already knew she and my father recognized my work. “Why do you do such sad movies?” my dad once joked after he’d seen me in Brown Girl, Brownstones. Likewise, Mom would often tell me what her friends were always asking her: “Why is she always wearing rags in her movies? Doesn’t she ever dress up?” Though their teasing was an indirect acknowledgment of their pride, I needed my mother, in particular, to voice her validation. She’d been my greatest source of energy, the reason I’d devoted myself so wholly to my work. She had believed I’d go out and become a slut of some kind, had no idea this Hollywood journey could lead me to play a character as honorable as Rebecca. My nomination did more than just prove my mother wrong. After a childhood during which my mother’s opinions drowned out all others, it gave me the last say.

“If I had not heard those words from my mother, none of this would have made any difference.”

I flew my mother to Los Angeles to attend the screening of Sounder. We were seated in the mezzanine, and she was one row behind me. In the dark, just as the curtains parted, she tapped me on the shoulder. “Ed Sullivan is sitting behind me,” she said, pronouncing his last name Sulli-wan, because for whatever reason, West Indians can’t say v’s. For years, she’d never missed The Ed Sullivan Show on Sunday nights. I turned around and whispered to her, “And I am sitting here.” We both snickered, her loudly enough to prompt Ed Sulli-wan to smile in my mother’s direction.

To celebrate Sounder’s cascade of nominations, the studio hosted a splashy New York premiere. I called upon acclaimed fashion designer Bill Whitten to design my dress (years later, Bill would design Michael Jackson’s rhinestone glove to cover the singer’s early signs of vitiligo). “I want to create the kind of gown that Rebecca might have worn if she’d had money,” I told Bill. That sent him in search of the prints and cottons poor colored women would’ve worn in 1933. Using the fabric remnants he found, he pieced together a treasure. The dress, antebellum in style, came with a fancy apron that served as a flower sack. He filled it with cotton balls he’d sent for from down South. It was the most glorious creation. The same woman who braided my hair for the movie created a crown of beautiful cornrows to complement my look. When I strode into the theater that evening, chin lifted, pride on my brow, I showed up in the name of the ancestors whose sweat and sorrow had carried me there.

In the months leading up to the ceremony, the devil got to work doing what he does best: attempting to pit Black women against each other. In the lead-up to the Oscars, one of Diana Ross’s designers tried to keep my dress from being finished by hiring my designer to make suits for the Jackson Five. I don’t know whether Diana knew anything about it, but I heard the whispers. The media, for months, had been playing up the narrative that there was some big competition between the two of us. I refused to feed into that storyline, which was false. I have never been in competition with anybody but myself, and I wanted no part in such unpleasantness. Just Breathing While Black is trouble enough.

A month before the ceremony, the studio sent me overseas on a promotional tour in Europe, my first time in Paris and London. Months before I left town, I’d rubbed elbows with British royalty. Antony Charles Robert Armstrong-Jones, First Earl of Snowdon, was then husband to Princess Margaret and an avid photographer and filmmaker. Lord Snowdon had taken quite an interest in Arthur’s work at Dance Theatre of Harlem. The two began a partnership, with Lord Snowdon investing in the school. Arthur connected me with him, and during one of Lord Snowdon’s trips to New York, he and I met for appetizers and a brief conversation. As we awaited our order, he kept glancing over his left shoulder. How strange, I thought. I wonder if he’s expecting someone. As it turned out, he was on the lookout for the paparazzi, who of course had followed him to the restaurant. Later, on another one of his trips to New York, Lord Snowdon photographed me wearing that Bill Whitten masterpiece of a dress. What a memory.

Cicely Tyson at England’s Heathrow Airport in February 1973, a month before the Oscars.

George StroudGetty Images

In London, the marveling began with my ride from Heathrow in an enormous black taxi, a Hackney carriage so gargantuan that I could stand up inside of it! In a penthouse suite in the Dorchester Hotel, I spent a half-hour just wandering around the space, gawking at the grandeur of the accommodations, thinking back on those days when my siblings, Emily and Melrose, and I had all been squished together on a rollaway bed in our parents’ living room.

And to think that I now had this sprawling space to myself, in a world where my name was plastered on billboards all over America and Europe. It was nothing short of spectacular. The same was true of my time in the City of Light, where, from my balcony, I gazed in awe at the Eiffel Tower, head held high and preening in the distance.

“When I strode into the theater that evening, chin lifted, pride on my brow, I showed up in the name of the ancestors whose sweat and sorrow had carried me there.”

Back in New York before the ceremony, the surrealism continued. In another head nod to Rebecca, I wanted my hair done in a croquignole, the deep-wave style that would’ve been popular for well-to- do women during the 1930s. “Do you know how to do that style?” I asked my hairstylist Omar. “No,” she said, “but my mother can.” Can you believe that child’s mom came out of retirement just to create my waves? The words thank you fell short of expressing the gratitude I felt. Designer Bill Whitten turned up the luxury by creating a white silk-wool fitted dress, with a touch of grey in it, complete with a heart cut-out, lace-trimmed detail across the décolletage. Gracing each sleeve was a glistening row of tiny gold buttons, with the same buttons stretching down the back. It was absolutely stunning.

When Arthur arrived, dashing in his tuxedo, he escorted me by the arm to the awaiting limo. The evening, for us, marked two celebrations: the Forty-Fifth Academy Awards, and my dear Arthur’s thirty-ninth birthday. The quintet of hosts—Carol Burnett, Michael Caine, Charlton Heston, and Rock Hudson—took the stage at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. My dream was to be in the front row, and there I sat, delighted that my fantasy had come to pass.

But as for the possibility of garnering the gold statue, I had done my back-of-the-napkin math. I’m logical that way, a pragmatist who is always weighing the odds, and in Hollywood politics, those odds were decidedly not in my favor. That same year, Liza Minnelli had been nominated for her role in Cabaret. Her father, Vincente, was a big-time director, which gave her one advantage. Check. Her mother was Judy Garland. Double check. Neither of them had ever earned an Oscar. Triple check. And at the time, Liza was dating Desi Arnaz Jr., son of Desi and Lucille Ball, Hollywood royalty. Quadruple check. Common sense told me that I had no chance amid the schmoozing and vote-securing that goes on in back rooms.

So as I sat near the stage that evening, I relaxed into the joy of just being there, with Arthur to my left and with Rebecca’s spirit dancing on my shoulder. So certain was I that this was Liza’s year, when Gene Hackman said, “And the winner is…,” I turned to Arthur and said, “Liza Minnelli.” Liza made her way up to the stage, tearful and jubilant, and I sat there, palm over my heart, relishing my presence in the arena. This journey of mine, this path so unpredictable, had somehow carried me from 219 East 102nd Street in the slums to the front row of movie magic at Hollywood’s most grand affair. As Liza accepted her award, I’d already received the only prize I have ever truly wanted—the affirmation of the dear woman who gave me birth.

From the book Just as I Am: A Memoir by Cicely Tyson with Michelle Burford. Copyright © 2021 by Cicely Tyson. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.

Cicely Tyson Cicely Tyson has been nominated for 40 television and film awards and has won 42, most notably an Oscar, a Tony Award, 3 Emmys, 8 NAACP Image Awards, the African American Film Critics Special Achievement Award, the BAFTA Film Award, the Black Film Critics Circle Award, 4 Black Reel Awards, the Elle Women in Hollywood Award, 3 Lifetime Achievement Awards, and many more.  Ms.

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Cicely Tyson on the ‘Power’ of Her 1973 Oscar Nom: ‘That Was My Dream’

[athenalevel3performingarts]

Romeo and Juliet Research Project.

1. The social,cultural and historical context of the text and Playwright. English playwright William Shakespeare, 23rd April 1564-23rd April 1616, was born in Stratford-Upon-Avon in Warwickshire to parents John Shakespeare and Mary Arden. John's job involved dealing in wool and other farm products and as his wife Mary was the daughter of a wealthy land owner, the couple were fairly well off and were able to afford multiple houses. At the age of 18 Shakespeare married Anne Hathaway and had three children with her, Susanna Hall, Hamnet Shakespeare and Judith Quiney. During the time Shakespeare was writing Romeo and Juliet there was a large gap between the rich and the poor within the community, and homelessness, poverty and crimes such as theft were key issues at this time. Punishments for crimes within this era were often cruel including different forms of executions ranging from the most humane form of execution for the well respected members of the community to the more brutal executions for the less respected people. Torture was also used as a way to extract confessions off suspected criminals and these methods of torture were extremely brutal and effective. These punishments were passed by the current monarch in this era, Elizabeth I. Living conditions were very simple throughout this period with little means of warmth or light and homes often being made out of wood and mortar with thatched roofs. Health and hygine problems were rife due to the lack of clean sourced water and due to the fact people would often throw waste directly into the streets which would encourage masses of rodents such as rats which would spread further disease. For entertainment people would visit theatres to watch either variety shows or plays such as Shakespeare's works that were put on at the Globe Theatre in London after Shakespeare had moved there to pursue his theatrical ambitions. These performance venues were often crowded and loud due to the cramped room and the over filled audience areas which usually did not have seats. During this time the key world event that occured involving Britain was towards the end of the 1500s when the English were fighting the Spanish in the Atlantic. 2.  The Vocal requirements and physical demands to be considered when interpreting the text and developing character's for performance. Romeo and Juliet was very popular and still is today. Shakespeare designed Romeo and Juliet to be performed outside in daylight as an open air theatre performance but also visualised it as being performed at other venues such as the Globe Theatre in London and other larger venues. It would have been originally performed by local actors to where Shakespeare originated from so colloquial accents were heavy throughout his plays because this is how he saw his characters. He also saw his plays as being performed with a set rhythm and rhyme to highlight important and key sections and characters within the play, for example; the prologue to Romeo and Juliet is written in iambic pentameter to highlight the importance or this section of the play as it tells the audience Shakespeare's idea of the whole story through a brief overview of the play. Many of Romeo's and Juliet's monologues are also written in iambic pentameter to signify the importance of these two characters. The styles the actors would have used to perform this play would have been fairly naturalistic. During these performances the actors would have to use a variety of vocal skills such as projection, clarity and diction as without any form of microphones and performing in open air venues the actors would need to be able use all of these vocal skills combined together for the audience to be able to hear and understand them clearly. The actors would also need to use good physicality skills to also make it clear to the audience about their intentions and through using clear vocal and physical skills accurately in this way it helps the audience understand the show.   3.The demands and requirements that each classical text places on a modern actor. The clothing and costumes during this period were typical of those within the Tudor era and could be categorised into three groups; posh, clean and scruff. The posh dress code was reserved for the upper class well off aristocracy and would be fairly extravagant to send a message to other people about how rich they were. These costumes would include items such as shirts with laces, large collars and ruffled sleeves, three quarter length baggy trousers, white tights and buckle shoes. The well off women in the community would wear extravagant and large dresses that covered the length of their body as this was etiquette during this period to show little to no skin, headdresses were often worn by rich women in this period too as well as corsets. The people that were considered clean would wear clothes similar to those of the posh and rich people, however, these clothes would be far more simple but fairly well kept and looked after. The people who were extremely poor would wear scruffy and unclean clothes that would not be well kept and would often have rips in them or patches due to the fact the poor would not be able to afford new clothes and the clothes they had would have probably been obtained in an unlawful way. As the main characters in Romeo and Juliet are rich the costumes would be alike to those of the posh community, this would decrease the actors' ability to use their physicality to their full potential as both the male and female costumes would be quite tight fitting, the tight fitting clothes, especially for the women, may make vocal performances harder too as it would be difficult to project. The actors within the play that are less well off or would need to wear costumes suited to their role within the community such as Friar Lawrence would be able to perform more easily on stage as he would wear a loose costume like robes. As we are going to perform our version of the play outside, the conditions we will be working with could be temperamental for a number of reasons such as the weather would need to be accounted for as well as the fact it would be difficult to set up a sound system and microphones outdoors. This means we would have to use good vocal skills like projection and clarity for the audience to understand us, performing in a large open space also means we need to exaggerate our physicality. Performing outside would also reduce the lighting we could use for our performance apart from taking advantage of natural light. Throughout the play the main props that will be used are swords which would change the way the characters move. Using the swords correctly could be a challenge to make the way they are used effective but safe. 4. The Cast list: Romeo :  At first Romeo seems moody to begin with as he his rejected from love when at this time he feels that there is no one prettier than Rosaline and no other girl he wishes to be with. He appears lost and even his own friends  Mercuito and Benvolio start to notice that it isn’t within his usual self to be this way.  Before he was obbessed with Rosaline he was quite popular within Verona and even The Lord Capulet agrees with this statement. He his very lively and after going to a FeastlParty he meets Juliet and immediately he instant attracted to her and that when he seems to instantly forget about Rosaline and love becomes is main goal and becomes more Lively as soon as he begs he for a kiss.    

    Personally i think he at first isn’t immediately attracted, attracted as it is portrayed within the play. Romeo seems to me as though by this stage in the party he his a bit tipsy and he his lost in his sorrows from Rosaline and i feel as though only when he kisses her he starts to feel something towards her and i feel as though he goes for her because of her innocence. But you know Juliet is right for him as he feels himself around her. 

Juliet : Juliet is very vunerable and naive at the start of the play in the sense she is very young and seems to be obedient and she is innocent in the sense she has no life experience. Due to her young age and families wealth. Juliet lacks a lot of love and attention her mother and father should give her  and it grows her to hate her family in one respect as they never take into account her opinion or feelings. This is why I personally believe she clings to Romeo as Juliet gets the  love and he makes her feel like she matters that she is lacking off her parents. However she is strong minded in the sense she eventually disobeys her own parents and does what she wants despite their views. Which unfortunately leads to a tragedy they would possibly imagine she kills herself to be with Romeo forever.

Friar Lawrence: He is the priest within the play who joins together Romeo and Juliet in legal marriage, he is also the moderator within the play between Romeo and Juliet due to the fact both of their families are in a feud with each other and would forbid love between the couple. Friar would be a wise and possibly middle aged to slightly older man who would most likely dress in a Monk like cassock and his actions along the way have serious consequences as due no postal system no mobile phones as the letter never reaches Romeo in time about the arranged plan of Juliet faking her own death so they could run away together. But it doesn’t end this way

  Mercuito: He is Romeo’s best friend : funny, witty and it is to be that he is confused about his sexuality in the sense he likes to dress like a girl and often makes comments to Romeo.Mercuito isn’t not either a Montague or a Capulet he is very strong minded and will never back down from a fight/duel and gets more involved with the family feuds with The Capulet’s and The Montague’s and in the end this costs him his life as Tybalt kills him.

The Nurse: She is Juliet’s servant and is a Capulet she is very kind to both sides of the family and only wants the best for Juliet and is a good hearted woman as she tries to please both Juliet and her parents. She has a big influence on Juliet and the Nurse is more of a surrogate Mother to Juliet as after losing a baby of her own she still was able to breast feed and because Lady Capulet wasn’t too fond of that idea she employed the nurse and even though she can be stupid and insensitive at times everyone can see what a good person she is. She has a strong sense of Humour as in the end she grows to support the idea of her and Romeo as she wants her to have love.

Tybalt: Tybalt is Juliet’s cousin, He is a very aggressive character and his actions have serious consequences for both Romeo and Mercuito as he kills Mercuito and then Romeo kills Tybalt and this causes him to be banished out of Verona for good. He has a negative attitude towards people and if anyone is to upset him in the wrong way he will go to extreme lengths and often kill them and he really does like using his sword.

Lord Capulet : He likes to think of himself as the King of Verona and Is very possessive and his Juliet’s father and He is the highest Capulet within his household. At first Him and Juliet seem to have no issues with each other until Paris comes onto the scene and He plans an arrange marriage for Juliet to marry Paris as he see him as right for her as he thinks he has prospects and can look after and provide for her as he was a man of social status and didn’t want he to settle with someone who was poor otherwise he would resent her for it. He is really selfish In the sense he never takes any of his daughter’s opinions into consideration and decides her future without letting her have a say. He thinks of his daughter as being Disobedient as she refuses to Marry Paris as she isn’t in love with him and technically she was already married and therefore wasn’t allowed to re marry or even have a divorced in them days as the person you married you was stuck with for life as she had made a strong commitment of until death do you part.

Rosaline : Although Rosaline is mentioned within play mostly at the start she never appears on stage. This was who Romeo was completely in love and infatuated with at the very start. He was lost and beside himself when he knew she didn’t feel the same. Then Romeo seemed to get over her pretty quick and she was immediately out of the picture as soon he met Juliet and fell for her with an almost immediate effect.

Lady Capulet :  Young herself when she reckons she had Juliet around the age of 14. Married to Lord Capulet and Juliet is her daughter.Of which she doesn’t show much love towards her own daughter that’s why the nurse practically thinks of her as her own. She is strong willed but is also very weak in the sense she doesn’t support her daughter unless Lord Capulet does in the sense when Juliet doesn’t want to marry Paris.  

Lord Montague : Romeo’s father an enemy of the Capulet’s at the start of the play and his concerned about his and is upset when he finds out about Romeo’s death and when his wife dies he decides to make peace with The Capulet’s. 

Lady Montague  :Romeo’s mother and can’t cope with her son’s death so she dies from not coping with it. 

Paris :  A Kinsman to the prince and is the found suitor to Juliet. He is more preferred by the Capulet's and when he becomes a Capulet he is promised he can marry Juliet but he already acts like they are. 

Benvolio : He his a Nephew of the Montague’s . Romeo’s cousin and is a good friend to Romeo he makes a lot of effort to defuse violent situations in public places. Although Mercuito says he has a nasty temper. He spends most of time trying to Romeo mind off of Rosaline. 

Prince Escalus : He his Prince Of Verona he his a kinsman of Paris and Mercuito. He has the Political power in Verona and gets concerned about keeping and upholding the public peace. 

Friar John : A  Friar charged by Friar Lawrence with the news of Juliet’s false death to Romeo. Friar John is then held up in a quarantined house and that message about Juliet faking her death never reaches Romeo.

Balthasar : He his Romeo’s servant and he is the person to give romeo the news about Juliet’s death as he is unaware of this and doesn’t know about it. 

Sampson & Gregory  : They are two servants of the Capulet's house and like their Master they hate the Montague's At the start they provoke some of the Montague men in a fight. 

Abram : A Montague servant who fight Sampson and Gregory at the start of the play. 

The Apothecary  : In Mantua  he had been wealthier, he might have been able to afford to value his morals. But refused to sell poison to Romeo.

Peter : Is a Capulet servant who invites guests to Capulet’s feast and escorts the Nurse. He can’t read and write  or sing.

5. A synopsis of scenes Act 1 :

Within this play the community talk about the plot to the audience and explain what type of play this is.  The Montague's and The Capulets are arch enemies. Sampson and Gregory are seen to be trouble makers and look to pick a fight with Abraham and Balhasar who are servants from the Montague household. But then Tybalt who is Juliet's cousin comes in and picks on Benvolio. That's when the community in Verona come in and step in and attack both.  Then Romeo's parents are looking for Romeo who is troubled and lost within his thoughts. So they send Benvolio  to talk to him of which he trys to get  him to admit who love but he his very stubborn and won't because he believes in love and suffering.

Lord Capulet, Juliet's father has planned her an arranged marriage to Paris. Although Rosaline is never a character as such on scene Romeo is obsessed with her and loves her. But goes to a feast with a friend Benvolio who asked him to compare her to other beauties. However he still found Rosaline the most prettiest. Lady Capulet need to have serious conversation with her daughter Juliet about marrying Paris and she goes to the feast.

Whilst at the feast as Mask strangers are welcome into what would be known today as a party as everyone seems to be enjoying themselves Romeo and Juliet lock each eyes with each then shortly after he begs her for a kiss 

[d2kvirus]

Dickheads of the Month: June 2018

As it seems that there are people who say or do things that are remarkably dickheaded yet somehow people try to make excuses for them or pretend it never happened, here is a collection of some of the dickheaded actions we saw in the month of June 2018 to make sure that they are never forgotten.

It somehow didn’t occur to Isabel Oakeshott that, when she has seen evidence of collusion between Arron Banks of Leave.EU and the Kremlin, the correct course of action is to report this to the relevant bodies immediately - not withhold the information for a year thinking it would make her look really, really important when she reveals this information in her next book - a book which may well have been released after the after the Electoral Commission’s investigations into Banks’ activities - which also happens to obliterate her defence of not knowing how important the information was if she was holding it off for her next book, so her haranguing of Carole Cadwalladr when Cadwalladr suggested these links now looks a whole lot more unpleasant as Oakeshott knew Cadwalladr was correct but had to maintain her pro-Leave psychosis anyway

Satan’s personal cheerleader Ann Coulter outdid everyone on the right not named Alex Jones by claiming, on national television no less, that every single child see crying as they were torn away from their parents to be locked in cages were actors and their tears weren’t real - which not only comes across as sociopathic with her smears, but the fact she’s cribbing InfoWars’ usual gamibit means she’s not even being original

Architect of Britain’s economy tanking Boris Johnson responded to legitimate worries of British businesses that Britait will hit them hard with the comforting response of “fuck business” - which shows that Johnson is still doing a fine job of justifying how we send £141k a year to pay his salary when it could literally be spent on anything else, let alone taking responsibility for him being the person responsible for this complete mess

In a blatant attempt to pull the wool over the license fee payers’ eyes, the BBC reported how the proposed £20bn funding increase for the NHS would be paid for by a tax increase - pretending that they didn’t report just 48 hours previously that the cost would be comfortably paid by this mythical “Brexit dividend” that they were banging on about at the time in spite of the fact people with the most basic understanding of economics or mathematics (as well as MPs on both sides of the aisle) calling this a complete fabrication used to try and dupe the taxpayer

Unofficial spokesman for the FBPE mob Eddie Marsan decided the best response to somebody having the temerity to suggest that acting as if Britait is the only notable thing to happen in British politics since 2010 and that nothing else matters at the voting booth by calling the person with such foolish ideas a “stupid, over privileged, hipster socialist” - and that’s a direct quote

Lover of all the creatures on God’s green earth (except women, homosexuals, the poor, the elderly, and animals at the receiving end of bloodsports) Christopher Chote proved himself to be a master of the political world by blocking a debate into making upskirt photography illegal - which would have at least won him a few friends with The Sun, given their habit of publishing upskirt photos taken of random female celebrities without their knowledge or consent

Having dragged himself back into the limelight by paying the dessicated husk of UKIP’s £30, Milo Yiannopoulos rapidly reminded everyone what an irresponsible dickhead when telling a journalist “I can’t wait for the vigilante squads to start gunning journalists down on sight” - and two days later, after somebody did just that in Maryland, the best he could come up with to defend what he said were how his words were something something twisted by the leftist agenda - rather than sounding remarkably like the threats that Brandon Griesemer sent to CNN back in January, the only difference being that Griesemer didn’t attempt a pathetic backtrack of “B-b-b-but I didn’t mean it, you leftist scum” when called out on it

So either Melania Trump is so brainless that it doesn’t occur to her that wearing a jacket bearing the slogan “I don’t really care” when going to visit one of her husband’s concentration camps for Mexican children could be seen as either grossly insensitive or outright antagonistic, or she knew exactly what she was doing which means that Ivanka isn’t the only one of the Trump women who the phrase “feckless cunt” applies to 

Tommy Robinson fanboy Jason Collins attempted to raise support for his boneheaded messiah by tweeting a photo purportedly showing the massive turnout for the Free Tommy protest in London - only for anyone capable of noticing landmarks to point out it was a photo from Liverpool taken in 2005 for their Champions League winners parade.  But apart from being the wrong city, the wrong decade and completely out of contest it proves...oh what’s the fucking point?

In response to the Argentine football team cancelling a friendly against Jerusalem in protest of Israel’s actions in Gaza, Israeli defence minister Avigdor Lieberman harrumphed about how "We will not yield before a pack of anti-Semitic terrorist supporters" - which is less a statement and more a high-scoring game of Zionist bingo

Britain’s answer to Ted Nugent Morrissey claimed that he was cancelling his entire tour because something something left-wing agenda, as opposed to the more commonly-accepted reason for him cancelling his tour (which is hardly unique, as he;s cancelled over 100 concerts since 2012) being related to lack of ticket sales due to tickets being priced at £75, which is double what several bands playing the same venues are charging

In response to Jimmy Durmaz conceding a last minute free kick that led to Germany winning the match in the last second, Sweden fans responded by racially abusing Durmaz on social media while sending death threats to him and his family

On a similar note, Columbia fans sent Carlos Sanchez’s death threats after his handball led to Columbia conceding a penalty and him being red carded - which, considering what happened to Andres Escobar after his own goal in the 1994 World Cup, is the sort of thing that shouldn’t be thrown around lightly

Completing the trifecta of football fans, fans from various African countries were quick to accuse the VAR system used in the World Cup of racism after Senegal failed to win a penalty after VAR rightly adjudged that the tackle from Columbia’s Davinson Sanchez (who also happens to be black, but that’s not important right now...) was fair.  Among the conspiratorial nonsense was a damning indictment of both these vocal idiots’ knowledge of geography or their memory spans

After literally years of horror stories predicting Russian fans committing acts of hooliganism and drowning matches under a tsunami of racist chants at their World Cup, it has to be pointed out that the most notable act of racism in the first two weeks of the tournament is Alan Sugar’s tweet about the Senegal team

Obnoxious host of Singled Out (no, not Jenny McCarthy, the other one) Chris Hardwick responded to accusations of being an abusive and controlling boyfriend by saying that Chloe Dykstra cheated on him, which not only failed to dismiss the accusations but also imply that Dykstra cheating on him meant it was perfectly okay for him to be an abusive and controlling boyfriend

Z-Pack spokesperson Chris Amann very kindly allowed his own incompetence to become a part of the legal record with his nuisance lawsuit against CM Punk & Colt Cabana which saw him attempt to claim loss of earnings and damage to his reputation in spite his remaining in the employ of WWE to this day, failing to even prove that Punk named him in the podcast in reference to what he was suing for, and hiring a lawyer who managed to submit the wrong evidence to trial on several occasions.  Suffice it to say Amann did not win - but he did draw attention to the fact he had an affair with a WWE employee...

Somehow it occurred to neither Chris Grayling nor the BBC that the chaos inflicted by Govia Thameslink on people using their Northern franchise was not unique, as those using their Southern franchise have suffered the exact same problems on a much larger scale but somehow this minor detail continued to be overlooked again and again and again

According to Priti Patel it is not acceptable to see rogue behaviour from government ministers.  Just a reminder: last year Priti Patel was sacked from the government for claiming to be on holiday when she was actually holding covert meetings with several Israeli officials, meetings she had not informed the government nor the Foreign Office about

It’s interesting that left-wing blogs such as Squawkbox, The Canary, Evolve Politics and Another Angry Voice all received micro donations of between 1p and 10p due to members of the FBPE mob and the usual Tory and UKIP trolls operating under the belief that donating so little money would cost the blogs money, when all they were actually doing was giving PayPal free money while giving those blogs plenty of free material - not just the story of people deludedly thinking they could bankrupt them with donations of a few pennies, but also how the supposedly left-wing FPBE mob are just as keen to silence opposing viewpoints as followers of Farage and Rees-Mogg 

In a remarkable lack of awareness, Butch Hartman stated that he loves anime but suggested that all animators should practise other art styles - which not only came across as remarkably condescending to a vast number of animators, but seemed oblivious to the fact that every single show he created uses the exact same art style 

For some reason Real Madrid thought the best way to prepare for Spain’s World Cup campaign would be to announce they had signed Spain coach Julen Lopetegui as their new manager just three days before Spain’s opening match.  The RFEF agreed that it was such a good idea that they promptly sacked Lopetegui the day after Real Madrid announced his signing - which of course drew the usual conspiratorial bollocks from Florentino Perez, who decided to play the victim rather than consider the concept that maybe not announcing Lopetegui as their coach on the eve of the World Cup might be a bloody stupid thing to do

So having torpedoed her comeback with a bunch of racist tweets, what has Roseanne Barr done since?  Attempt to blame it on being under the effects of Ambien and, when that failed to convince anyone who checked her post history, came up with some mealy-mouthed waffling saying that her tweet that compared  Valerie Jarrett to an ape was actually about anti-semitism, convincing precisely nobody

While promoting the forgettable fluff that is Ocean’s 8 Sandra Bullock stated that any and all criticism from male film critics could be ignored as the film is not for them.  Let me put this into perspective: when noted misogynist crackpot Sam Peckinpah never tried that line to dismiss any negative reviews from female reviewers such as Pauline Kael, yet Sandra Bullock attempts such obvious gatekeeping, this is the sort of things that people who believe that GamerGate was their Woodstock will pounce on

Special mention to both Nike and Adidas for their kit designs for the World Cup, where the two companies appear to be in a competition to take what should be a series of straightforward kits to design and instead decide to be “creative” and create something ugly

And finally, because of course it is, there’s the the only person who ever took advice about prison reform from Kim Kardashian Donald Trump - although he amazingly didn’t flip-flop on that decision like a petulant child, as opposed to a child he ripped away from their parents and locked inside a cage

[thedramafilesblog-blog]

Appearing before the Dramacourt: Hwarang: Poet Warrior Youth Eps 11-12 (We decided to combine these two eps because there wasn’t much happening in ep 11)

***If this is your first time browsing The Drama Files, please read The Rules section first for our reviewing and rating system***

Issues:

Whether Han Sung and his brother’s issues were realistic?

Whether having a bracelet be a symbol for recognizing the King is less than ideal?

Whether the way rumours spread is portrayed accurately?

Whether coming from a “good family” equals better treatment?

The Rule(s):

Not really. It feels like it came out of nowhere and the viewers were blindsided.

Again, not really. What if it fell off your hand and then someone else picked it up? They could just as easily make a claim to the throne.

Yes. It’s very accurate and realistic. If you stand in a hallway in high school and watch, its exactly how rumours spread.

Apparently.

Application:

RedRosette J: Again, episode 11 was a whole bunch of filler, so we felt that it wasn’t worth doing a whole post on it. Basically what happened was that Sun Woo and Ji Dwi spent some quality bromance bonding time, Sun Woo and Aro finally ended up on the same page about liking each other, and the pointless princess tried to assassinate Aro. Oh and someone started a rumour that the King was within Hwarang. The episode had a 30 second recap at the end that summed up the important points of the entire episode and if you don’t have time to watch the whole thing, I recommend watching that because its basically better than wasting your time watching pointless filler.

Okay then. This is happening. 

Why is this super adorable?

They’re basically besties now

Yup this is happening

That Pointless Princess is the worst assassin ever!

Shit just got real.

RedRosette J: Episode 12 was basically all the characters dealing with the aftermath of the revelation of the King being inside the Hwarangs. It was quite slow and I had a hard time staying focused. There was a lot of Taehyung in this episode and I’m not going to lie, in comparison to the actor playing his brother, his angsty acting was quite cringey. (Sorry Taehyungie) We do see Soo Ho and Ban Ryu hanging out a lot and actually being friends at this point I think, so that’s nice. I’m not even going to touch that whole Soo Ho carrying the Queen thing with a ten foot pole. *sigh* What is the point of this crush? Is it to make viewers cringe? Because that definitely happened! Perhaps the biggest thing in this episode is the Chief Instructor figuring out that Ji Dwi is the King and Sun Woo also starting to figure it out. Nothing else really happened. The plot always seems to develop so slowly in this drama….

Jubiemon J: I’m going to be talking about both of the episodes. I was talking to RedRosette and I was like . . . hang on, we’re more than half way through the drama, but why do I feel like nothing much has happened? I don’t recall seeing tons of bromance scenes either. Just a few here and there. I thought it was kind of stupid/funny that the princess was saying how she was hunting for deer, if I remember correctly. Like please . . . These two episodes weren’t super memorable. I watched them a few days ago and I don’t remember any scenes that made me go WOW. I think the only part that I do remember is Hansung and his older brother’s little fight and the reason that I remember it is not a good one. That conflict came out of nowhere and it made it seem like Hansung’s character suddenly lost his mind or had some hormonal fluctuations that caused him to lash out like that. Yes, as much as I like BTS’ V/Taehyung, his acting for those scenes was cringey. It didn’t help him that the older brother had better acting skills; that just made Taehyung’s acting seem even more unpolished. I’ll cut him some slack because this is his first major acting gig and the writing of the scenes didn’t help his character either. The conflict sort of blew out of nowhere. Taehyung, though, was good at his aegyo acting when he pretended to hurt his foot.

Do Ji Han keeps slaying us every week!

I feel like we really need a label for these two now

Yup. This is 3/5 of the Dream Team

She’s like superrrr prettyyyy

When the cat is out of the proverbial bag

Boi put that smile away before you hurt somebody!

Issue 1: Whether Han Sung and his brother’s issues were realistic?

RedRosette J: So this came out of nowhere for me. Jubiemon and I were talking about this too. It initially seemed like Han Sung was okay or accepting of Dan Se and the whole ‘Half-Bone’ or whatever situation. Even if the inferiority complex was supposed to develop over time, it wasn’t obvious to the viewers because a) the character didn’t have much screen time and b) when he was on screen he was on for like a second and that too for being cutesy. There was no time in between for us to see that the character was having these issues with his brother. Not to mention, Dan Se disappeared for like half of the drama and was suddenly re-introduced to us last week or something. I’m sure the issues are realistic; it makes sense that Han Sung would feel inferior to his athletically skilled brother considering the pressure that he was under as the ‘True-Bone’ or whatever to be the perfect son and all that. However, it’s the way that the issues were conveyed to the viewers that was problematic. Maybe a revision of the script is in order?

Jubiemon J: I mentioned this in my previous paragraph, so I’ll keep this part short. I agree with what RedRosette said. Han Sung and his brother’s issues weren’t realistic because of a mix of poor character development from writing and perhaps Taehyung’s inexperience with acting. I say the latter point f0r these reasons. Do Jihan doesn’t appear in that many scenes, yet he manages to translate his character’s conflict with his family well onto the screen. I can feel his inner turmoil. Another side character, Yeo Wool, does a good job of being the voice of reason and arguably the “Fool” that we see in Shakespearean plays. Even with the poor writing, if Taehyung were more experienced in acting like the two actors, he could have been able to show the little bits of annoyance/frustration with his responsibility as a “pure bred”.  I do think he executes the aeygo, playful scenes much better, probably because that’s more like the fan service he does or more like his on-screen personality as a BTS member. I hope he does take some acting lessons in the future if he wants to pursue acting later on.

We go from cute…

To more cute…

To super cute…

To what is this???

Where is this coming from??

Issue 2: Whether having a bracelet be a symbol for recognizing the King is less than ideal?

RedRosette J: This made absolutely no sense to me. How were they supposed to figure out who was King if the only thing that people had to go on was the bracelet which, as in this drama, kept switching owners? It seems like a very silly way to figure out who is King. They need a tattoo or an obvious birth mark or something. Also, for a guy trying to be inconspicuous, why would you go around wearing the bracelet with the King’s mark on it? That makes absolutely no sense at all. -_-

Jubiemon J: Yes that bracelet symbolizing the King was quite . . . silly. Anyone could have made that bracelet if they could spot the design. Sigh.

Seriously??

Issue 3: Whether the way rumours spread is portrayed accurately?

RedRosette J: This I found to be very accurately portrayed. This is exactly how rumours spread in high school…or anywhere really. Someone gets a hunch about something and tells someone else who tells someone else and so on and so on. Before you know it, everyone already knows and its absolute chaos. These guys are also quite a gossipy bunch for warriors.

Jubiemon J: I think secretly we all like a bit of gossip and drama, so if there’s something juicy and scandalous, most people will talk about it. Word of mouth is powerful. Gossip spreading isn’t something that only happens among girls, I think. Guys can be just as guilty, so I’m kind of glad that this drama showed how guys can get into the gossip.

Issue 4: Whether coming from a “good family” equals better treatment?

RedRosette J: Apparently this is a thing in this drama. Everything is based on your family background and all that so I guess it makes sense in this drama world, but in reality, I’m not sure if this is a thing exactly. Maybe if you were a celebrity, people might bend over backwards for you, but a “good family” doesn’t really mean much in today’s reality. But then again, it’s a very complicated topic and would depend on the society you live in and the ideals and norms that it ascribes to. Either way, this drama is all about dem genetics!

Jubiemon J: I think this problem of “good family” getting better treatment still happens even today. I agree that it might depend on where you live, but I think this is something that is prevalent. Maybe in some parts of the world it’s worse than others. Even over here, if your family is well-connected, your job prospects are far better. Let’s say you go to a luxury retail store and you’re dressed like you are rich/come from a good family, you’re likely to get better customer service. Over here, a good family might get your foot in the door somewhere, but it’s not detrimental if you come from an average family. It might be harder for you compared to the one with all the fame/wealth, but at least in Canada, there’s a sense of meritocracy. Yes, in this drama though . . . it’s all about the bloodline.

True friends don’t care about your genetic background

Conclusion: Appeal Dismissed.

Rating: 2 = Yell At The Writer (Sorry but a lot of things could have been dealt with better in these episodes)

  File No: Hwarang: Poet-Warrior-Youth-Eps-10-and-11 Appearing before the Dramacourt: Hwarang: Poet Warrior Youth Eps 11-12 (We decided to combine these two eps because there wasn’t much happening in ep 11)