savmillcr-blog

[savmillcr-blog]

delacruaute‌:

THE STRANGER LOOKED AT HIM WEIRDLY, before pulling away and essentially walking off. Alphonse’s mouth curled down into a downward arc, the sad scowl staying on his face for but a split-second—in which occasion a familiar voice made him drop it entirely to replace it with a smile. “Savannah banana!” he called out, turning around and voice loud in the space they’re both inhabiting, no notion of privacy or keeping quiet even once occurring to Alphonse—whose brain, really, didn’t much account for stuff like paps and avoiding fans, because he just didn’t work in that field. Eventually, long legs took him to the park bench that Sav was sitting in and he made himself comfortable, patting down the wood as if it was dirty and needed some dusting before he sat down on it, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his ankles. “Why’d you need life advice, huh?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer, the question clearly only rhetorical. “You’re a bit too young for a midlife crisis, peach!” Though if she were ever to have a meltdown, that might be a good prologue for a good cancellation, even if the narrative would be a bit overdone. (Still, Alphonse conceded, there’s nothing wrong with the tried-and-tested formula.) For the sake of friendship, however (and whatever the hell the word meant), he easily relented: “Anyway, as I was about to say to that ungrateful young man”—and here he paused, as if for dramatic effect—“Mercury’s in retrograde,” he finished at last, his voice somehow sounding sagely. “Don’t meet up with any of your exes today, peaches, or you will one hundred percent regret it tomorrow morning.”

She could curse him for hollering her name like that, the noise earning more than a few glances in her direction. Not long now. “Alph, jesus. Some of us are trying to keep a low profile.” It comes out half a hiss, half an irritated sigh as she sinks a little lower on the bench. She’s sure they make an odd pair — her, slouching like an irate teenager and him, perfectly poised as always. Her irritation’s softened by his mannerisms, the quirks comforting if only because of their familiarity. When she’d first arrived in Los Angeles, her contract fresh and fragile, Alphonse’s presence had been the only thing tying her to home, to a past life. “I’m not having a midlife crisis.” Though she’s certain if she did, he’d be the first to capitalize it. As much as she wanted to believe otherwise, and as often as she tried to convince herself that he could be trusted, she knew to truly rely on him would be naive. And it was always thinking one step ahead that had kept her alive thus far. She takes a sip of her coffee, eyes suspiciously scanning the street to make sure she hadn’t been spotted. The moment she did, the charm would spring on, her entire persona changing to fit whatever might earn her the most fame points. “Mercury’s in retrograde.” She echoes, deadpanning. “That’s your stellar life advice? Well, none of my exes live in Los Angeles, anyways. Haven’t you heard? The fans are demanding I date someone. Anyone.” 

[savmillcr-blog]

❥ halsey

like if use/save

twitter:calumswasabi

[savmillcr-blog]

Look at me. For once in your entire life, look at me, and see the fangs in my smile. Because I was never soft, like you thought. All this time, I was a wolf and you tried to imagine me into a sheep.

to be discovered, by j.h. (via fairytellings)

[savmillcr-blog]

“Hey guys, Savannah here! I wanted to talk today about this cool new company I’ve been working with — they make sustainble alternatives for every day products. Y’know, like, reusable food wrap, metal straws, reusable coffee filters. I think it’s such a good cause, and something I’m extremely passionate about so if you’re interested, swipe up and use the code SAVANNAHMILLER to get a 20% discount off your first purchase. ‘Kay love you guys!” With a winning smile, she wiggles her fingers at her phone camera, then stops recording, tapping at her phone to attach the website link and add a caption. When she’s finally done, she glances up at the person across from her with an expression much different than the one she’d presented to her followers. “Bitches love the environment. And discounts. Eat that shit right up.” 

[savmillcr-blog]

delacruaute‌:

“HEY THERE, YOU!” A voice broke through, followed by the appearance of a too-wide smile on a long face on an even longer body. Alphonse usually wasn’t the type to go on accosting strangers like this, but he reckoned this was a special enough occasion. “Alright, I’m not here to sell you anything and I don’t want your money, so you can stop clutching your hands protectively over your wallet now, you paranoid walnut.” Not that he even checked if they actually were, but… come on, they were in Los Angeles. People are always going to be slightly suspicious of strangers going up to them randomly and without warning. “What I’m going to do here instead is that I’m going to give you valuable life advice, okay? Now you musn’t forget it—tell me you wouldn’t—because it’s real top shelf advice I’m gonna give you, alright, and I don’t want this li’l nugget of wisdom to go to waste because this? This is going to change your life.” While he was talking, he kept fidgeting with his hands and continued on shifting his weight from one foot to another, the words seemingly coming in without end until it suddenly did. Before he begun to dispense his life-changing advice, however, he looked expectantly at the person he just stopped in the middle of the street, seemingly waiting for their confirmation before he started with whatever life lesson he was about to benevolently give away.

Seated on a park bench nearby, blue hair swept up beneath a cap and face shielded by an oversized pair of dark sunglasses, she’d elected to cling to her last few moments of privacy. It was always like that — 10 minutes, 15 minutes, maybe an hour carved out to herself to bask in the sunshine before the paps arrived, or a misguided fan spotted her beneath her disguise and she had to throw on the false smile and the bright eyes. A familiar voice catches her attention, draws her from beneath the waters and back to reality, and it’s not long before she’s spotted him down the street. A muted smile surrounds the straw of her iced coffee as she watches, anxiously awaiting the advertised life advice. Unfortunately for Savannah, the passerby is less interested in the ramblings of a stranger, and, with a polite smile, hurries off mumbling something about the streets of Los Angeles. “Boooooo.” She calls out from behind a hand. “I could really use some life advice right about now, I mean, since you offered.” 

[savmillcr-blog]

ludaxmae‌:

11:57. 11:58. 11:59.

lu stared down the clock behind the bar with quiet intensity, hoping that maybe if her gaze was hard enough she could stop the hands before they reached midnight. but this was reality, not one of her beloved fairy tales.

this was reality, and her sister was dead. this was reality, and she was twenty-one now.  this was reality, and she wishes she’d been the one to bite the bullet.

she closed her eyes tightly, composing herself, stopping the tears. the realization that this was just the first of many birthday’s she’d be doomed to spend alone was nearly too much; but lu had spent the past decade and a half living a fake life, and she wasn’t going to break character now. she handed her id to the bartender, offering a soft smile. “twenty-one now. and i want to get wasted.” she could have spent the night with friends–the kerrigan twin’s had many, but it was all so superficial. they could never let anyone too close, never let anyone in on their big secret. really, the only people in the entire world who knew the kerrigan twins were themselves. and without her sister, lu felt like she was at risk of fading away into true obscurity. or madness. whichever would piss cora off more.

the bartender brought out two shots, which lu downed quickly–too quickly, letting out a gasp at the burn and making a sour expression at the unpleasantness. she could hear a stranger’s laughter, turning her head to see who was watching her embarrass herself. “you know, when the camera’s not rolling i’m not here to put on a show.” she chided, her own sad inside joke. “nothing else better to do than laugh at my attempts to get drunk?”

The laughter’s released before she can stop it, an indulgent gift to herself after a night of keeping her thoughts to herself, of silent judgment. They had boiled over, as thoughts were want to do, and the sight of the other choking down shots had been the tipping point. “You’re out in public, darling, and you’re famous. That means you’re always putting on a show.” As if to prove her point, Savannah gestures over her shoulder at some of the other patrons, a few of whom had taken a passing interest in the two familiar faces seated at the bar. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” She drinks deeply from her own glass, finishes off the amber liquid with little trouble. Before she speaks again, her performance is carefully considered. People were watching — a semblance of friendship might benefit her reputation. With a light sigh and a crinkle of her features, she slides over a few barstools and offers her best sympathetic smile. “What are you drinking? Next rounds on me.” 

[savmillcr-blog]

“Oh no, the pleasure’s all mine...I’m always happy to participate in interviews.” She’s sickened by the saccharine giggle that bubbles out of her rouge lips. Any semblance of cynicsm is hidden beneath layers of makeup, tucked into the wasteband of her faded denim jeans. 

“Oh gosh,” She feigns surprise at the question, though she’d been briefed beforehand. “Is it too on the nose to say Tommy? I mean, c’mon, the guy’s adorable.” A comment carefully crafted especially for their fans, those she knew had taken an interest in their friendship. “I’m also quite partial to Amir, can’t lie.” 

For the next question, she takes a scripted pause, allows her features to fall a little as if the thought troubles her. “Well, obviously, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, y’know, it’s just terrible.” If her voice wavers, it’s a testament to the acting ability she’s honed over five, long years. She tucks a lock of aqua blue behind an ear dotted with piercings, then exhales slowly, allowing the silence to blossom with expectation. “I think..And I say this with no negative intentions, whatsoever, but, y’know, Annissa has been looking a little rusty lately. She’s a darling, absolutely, but it can be so hard to stay relevant.” 

“Oh, I love this question. There are so many people I’m just dying to work with —” With a hiccup of a gasp, she covers her mouth quickly, the perfect picture of feigned embarrassment. “No pun in intended, gosh.” She’d learned the key to winning public favour was peppering in just the right amount of wicked humor, masked behind a naive innocence. “In all seriousness, I’d love to work with Eila again. She was my first costar, five years ago, and I miss her dearly. Such a delight to work with.” 

“My reputation? Hm...Well, It’s hard to say. I try not to pay too much mind to other people’s opinions. I prefer to keep my head down, focus on myself and my work regardless of my reputation.” And now, a pause, a coy duck of her head as she pretends to give two shits. “I do hope people like me, though. That’s just human nature, right?” 

“Enemies?” Spoken like a foreign word, heavy on her tongue. “I’m sure I have some, but if I do I’m unaware. Friends on the other hand...” A brilliant smile punctuates her sentence. “Yes, as some of you might know I’m quite fond of Tommy. Eve, as well, has become quite a close friend. Jerome is great, Sloane’s adorable, Alph, of course, is a friend from back home. I could go on for hours but I won’t waste your time.” 

And now, for the piece de resistance — at the question, she takes a shaky breath in, eyes widening with a wavering vulnerability she accentuates with a straightening of her shoulders. “I-I — y’know, I wish I could say I hadn’t thought about this before, but...that’d be a lie. I would want it to be quick. Painless. Wishful thinking, right?” With a small scoff, she quickly fades once again into a cheery smile, shakes off the faux gloom with a small shimmy and a nervous laugh. 

“Anyways. Let’s focus on the positives, yes? Heart & Soul is my upcoming project and I’m very excited for you all to see the work we’ve put into it.” 

[savmillcr-blog]

gilded-castle‌:

“Have you read about this?” Jerome held up a paper copy of the Los Angeles Times, betting good money that whomever he spoke to had never read it. At least, not in print. But he didn’t doubt that this story – a feature length, front page, about a new celebrity religion giving Scientology a run for its money – was likely trending online.

“This has got to be the most fascinating and bizarre Hollywood religion I have ever encountered.” Plenty of actors in Hollywood were in the closet about their respective faiths. Plenty were professed Christians, some were devout Jews, and plenty others had pursued alternate paths. Cora Samson herself was a spiritualist of sorts. But nothing, not even Scientology or Kabbalah, was attracting the attention this new thing was. 

“Yeah.” She looks up from her coffee and her phone, both settled on the coffee shop table by the window. “A resurrection of paganism, right?” The story had stood out to her on the front of a newspaper she’d seen on her way to the coffee shop, so much so that she’d stopped to take one and read it. 

“It’s interesting. They do say history repeats itself, so...” There’s a hint of a smile as she looks over at him. “Then again, Hollywood consumes fads like pacman eatin’ whatever that shit is in the game, so. It’ll die off again.” 

[savmillcr-blog]

love-levitt‌:

Someone had changed the channel on the TV at the bar to some low-brow entertainment program, and Eila noticed that it was playing another episode of “Failed Child Stars: Where Are They Now?” Some ended up raised by a single parent, and for those who had only one parent to begin with, they either lived with extended family or in foster care. But, most of those didn’t make it into tonight’s episode. This program wanted the fucked up stories.

Among those stories tonight were Janie Fitzpatrick, who had recently completed rehab again, Daniel Witwicky, who had been mooching off his much older actress girlfriend for cash, and Joseph Naor, now-errand boy to the Torrances.

“It’s fucked up,” Eila said. “Even if you’re already cancelled, you can’t protect yourself. Everyone loves misery, I guess.”

Admittedly, her attention had been captured from time to time by the channel flickering in the corner of the bar. She hadn’t paid all too much thought to it, however, instead intent on working her way through the glass of whiskey set before her. She recognizes Eila, of course, they had too many mutual friends, acquaintances, coworkers, fans — but the thought of a well-meaning conversation had soured her stomach so she’d kept to herself. Until now, of course. And it’s no secret she’s displeased by the disturbance, a heavy sigh preluding her dry response. 

“That’s what you think is fucked up about this? Whole situation? Jesus.” She scoffs. “Misery loves company. Or so they say. Maybe that’s why people watch.”

[savmillcr-blog]

atozadani‌:

Annissa found herself on the floor of the studio, lungs wheezing as she struggled for air. It had been months– long, torturous months –since she had gotten to dance, and the wait had laid waste to her endurance. She’d found herself pushing too far, and that was hours ago. Now, she felt barely human, but the feeling was… Almost welcome. Annissa didn’t want to be human, anymore; Every action they took was a step away from it. The pain in her muscles felt right in a way nothing had since they took Ginny from her; The heave of her chest familiar in the way you always recognized a nightmare.

Flat on her back on the mat, Annissa heard the door creak open. “Studio’s reserved,” she growled out, her voice rough and heaving. “Come back in an hour.”

She does feel the slightest bit of guilt for the pleasure she feels at the sight. But she can’t deny it — after all, it’s nothing more than human nature. In the animal world, one of them would already be dead, clawed to smithereens from of a deep, primal need to survive. At least if Annissa was struggling to dance it meant she couldn’t lord the talent over Savannah like a guillotine threatening to drop. It was one less thing for her to worry about when comparing herself to the other. 

She hadn’t arrived with the intention of rehearsing (though improving her dance skills was certainly a long term goal), but she suddenly feels inclined to, grateful that her loose fitting top and leggings give her the appearance of intention. “But I’m here now. There’s room for two, no? Come, now, Annissa, don’t be greedy. It’s not a good look.” 

[savmillcr-blog]

bet-on-bennett‌:

“You know,” Sloane said, speaking to someone who entirely did not ask, all because they thought this person needed a bit of encouragement in… whatever it was they seemed scared of – if Sloane was even reading that right. “You miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take.”

An unimpressed gaze flitters out from behind her dark glasses and away from the casting call held in her hands. It was a heavy role ; well-above what she usually playsed. “Well, if it isn’t my number one fan.” Folding the paper neatly, twice, so that it fits into the pocket of her faded denim jacket, she turns her body so that she’s facing the other head-on. “Do you even know who you just quoted?”

[savmillcr-blog]

Full Name: Savannah Miller Age: 22 Birthday:  February 16, 1997 Gender identity: Cis female Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: Actress / Singer Personality: Cynical, Enigmatic, Sarcastic, Guarded, Stubborn, Manipulative  Fame points: 200

PINTEREST BOARD HERE! 

TW drugs, neglect, mentions of abuse, statutory rape 

BIOGRAPHY:

Her parents love her. They really do. But the drugs make their hands shake and their ears ring with her cries, until they can’t bring themselves to care, can’t drag themselves to her crib more than a few times a day to just barely feed her and change her dirty diapers. Well, really, it was her mother doing the caring, singing sweetly to her baby girl while her boyfriend fucked off who knows where.

They keep their shit together just long enough for Savannah to remember them. A few days before her fifth birthday, there was a knock on the door. Now, this was unusual in itself — their house was on the bad side of Chicago. They didn’t get many visitors. What was even stranger was the person who walked through the door, so at odds with the grimy carpet and peeling wallpaper was she, what with her little black pumps and perfect blonde curls.

She took Savannah away that day, deemed her parents irresponsible and neglectful. She celebrated her fifth birthday in a strange room in a strange house with strange people who called her Savy and pet her like a dog. Looking back now, she’s lost count of how many bedrooms she had. How many schools, how many homes, how many parents. She doesn’t remember their names. There was the nice lady with the bad breath and the mean daughter. The angry man who hated her just for existing. The pair with the priceless china collection she stole and sold to pay for her first guitar.

Through it all, the good homes she ruined and the bad homes she endured, music was her escape. All the money she earned was funnelled into her growing collection of old records, the maintenance of her record player, her walkman, and, eventually, her iPods. It was all she cared about; from the moment she could sing, she did. She wrote shitty songs in a moleskin journal then tore them up, she performed at coffee shops and talent shows and filmed videos for Youtube. The only time she felt real was on stage, like she could really be a whole person.

And then there was Evan. She was 17. He was 22. He wasn’t the first older man she’d been with. But he was the nicest, and the most successful. He had pull in the music industry, and, for some reason, took a liking to her. It wasn’t hard to pretend to love him, to wrap him around her finger with false innocence and a bit of tongue in the bar bathroom. She ran away from her foster home, moved into his fancy apartment downtown, began meeting with producers and agents. He helps her produce a demo, get her a record deal. Hell, maybe, after all was said and done, she did actually love him, just a little. It sure as shit hurt when he dumped her, cut off all contact, changed the lock to his apartment and changed his number. She was 18, then, and no longer qualified for foster care. And even though she had a record deal, she had yet to release anything, to make any money.

She’s the one to reach out to Prometheus. The plan is simple: put the music on the back burner and turn to acting — how hard could it be? Earn fame, money, whatever it took to win back her freedom, and then she could focus on her music career. Simple. How hard could it be for a girl who’d grown up alone? Beaten and bruised? Neglected before she even knew how to ask for help?

Well, it’s been five years and she’s still here. 

HEADCANONS:

can’t cook— she never learned and doesn’t care to 

she’s still writing music, and probably has managed to get a few to be used in various productions

she’s an Okay actress but music is definitely her strong suit 

smokes and drinks a lot (but hides the drinking from the paps when she can)

has definitely died her hair all the colours halsey has had it, but it’s currently the turqouisey blue in the gif above!

for voiceclaim purposes, i’m using halsey’s stuff (duhhh), like room 93/badlands era stuff more than newer stuff 

in five years i wanna say she’s lost quite a few friends & possibly a lover or two to cancellation and is pretty bitter about it tbh 

WANTED PLOTS:

friends, pals, buddies, anyone who puts up with her shit ! (from before or after prometheus) 

current flings / past flings / future flings 

enemies — i’m sure there are tons of people who don’t like her / she doesn’t like / she fucked over to get points or for a role or something! 

i would...love a fake dating plot ?? she would totally do it for the fame 

alternatively, someone who fans rlly ship but they ... ? hate each other ? like a past costar or something

on that note, costars! 

ye ye ye literally anything just pls plot with me hehe

[savmillcr-blog]

SAVANNAH MILLER ;; SINGER TURNED ACTRESS

voted most likely to be cancelled first, is here just for the fame, here for the wealth, wants to actually make art, pro-cancellation process, anti-cancellation process, neutral, works the system, is behind the scenes, works in front of the camera, is new to Hollywood, seasoned veteran, workaholic, phones it in, watches the cancellations, avoids watching them, paps love them, paps hate them, paps have no idea they exist, keeps up with the fame leaderboard, is obsessed, ignores it, would stab someone in the back, is loyal af 

[savmillcr-blog]

*slowly removes my heart-shaped sunglasses* i beg your fucking pardon

[savmillcr-blog]

tag drop !