#Professional Camera Installation

[ryant919]

How Often Should You Upgrade Your Security System?

Businesses must ensure their security systems are up to date to protect assets, employees, and sensitive data.

The question is, how often should you upgrade your security system? The answer depends on various factors, such as technological advancements, business growth, and evolving threats. However, the involvement of an expert here can help.

1. Every 3-5 Years: Keeping Up with Technology

Security technology evolves quickly. If your system is more than 3-5 years old, it may lack features like AI-powered surveillance, remote monitoring, or encrypted access controls. Upgrading ensures you benefit from the latest innovations, making security more efficient and proactive. 

2. After Business Expansion or Renovation

If your business has expanded, relocated, or undergone renovations, your security needs may have changed. New entry points, larger premises, or increased foot traffic require an updated surveillance system and Security Camera Installation, additional access controls, and improved alarm coverage. 

3. If You Experience Security Breaches

A security breach—whether it's a break-in, theft, or cyberattack—is a major red flag that your system needs an immediate upgrade. Weaknesses in outdated security systems can make your business an easy target. Modern upgrades provide real-time alerts, high-definition surveillance, and stronger access control measures. 

4. When Compliance Standards Change

Many industries require businesses to meet specific security regulations and compliance standards. If regulations change or your current system doesn’t meet the latest requirements, an upgrade is necessary to avoid legal and financial risks. 

5. If Your Security System Shows Signs of Wear

Frequent false alarms, system glitches, outdated software, or unreliable performance indicate that your security system is no longer functioning optimally. Opting for Professional Camera Installation and replacing aging components with modern, smart security solutions ensures consistent protection. 

Why Choose Voltec’s Expert Solutions? 

At Voltec Services, a leading Electrical Maintenance Company, we provide customised security system upgrades to protect your business from evolving threats. Our expert team ensures: 

State-of-the-art surveillance & monitoring solutions 

Seamless integration with existing security systems 

Compliance with industry security standards 

24/7 protection & ongoing support 

Don’t wait for a security breach! Try Installing CCTV Cameras or upgrade your system today with Voltec Services for enhanced safety and peace of mind.

Original Source - https://www.voltecservices.com.au/blog/item/how-often-should-you-upgrade-your-security-system

[vitalservicetx]

Professional Security Camera Installation

If you want to keep an eye on your property without the hassle, our professional security camera installation is the way to go. We assess your site, recommend the best equipment, and handle every detail—from mounting to configuring your mobile access. With a professional security camera installation, you’ll get reliable coverage, sharp images, and a system that’s ready for anything. Trust us to provide security solutions that truly work for your home or business.

[coolwaysgroupofcompanies]

Professional Security Camera Installation: Protect Your Home with Expert Solutions

When it comes to protecting your home or business, nothing matches the reliability of professional security camera installation from Coolways Group of Companies. We specialize in providing top-tier security solutions that offer comprehensive coverage and peace of mind. Our team of certified experts will assess your property, identify vulnerable areas, and install high-quality cameras tailored to your specific security needs.

Whether you need indoor surveillance or outdoor monitoring, our cameras come equipped with advanced features like HD resolution, night vision, and real-time alerts. With Coolways Group of Companies, you can trust that every angle is covered, ensuring round-the-clock protection. Plus, our user-friendly systems give you access to live footage from your smartphone, so you're always connected and informed.

Choose Coolways Group of Companies for professional security camera installation that combines cutting-edge technology with expert installation, keeping your property safe and secure.

[advertisingmarketing]

Home CCTV

[mysticalcrowntyrant]

Yandere Landlord x Reader

You move to New York because you have no reason to stay anywhere else.

After the breakup—after him—there was no home left. The apartment in Chicago had grown cold, not just in winter, but in the way it echoed with silence even when you were still living there. So, when the hospital called with a residency offer, you packed fast and drove faster, your old car chugging like it resented the weight of your regret.

You arrive in Brooklyn with three suitcases, a secondhand coffee maker, and too many scars to count. Internally. Externally, you’ve always passed for composed, professional. Polished even, when you put in the effort. People don’t see what you don’t let them.

The apartment is perfect. Too perfect. That’s the first red flag, but you don’t want to see it. The rent is suspiciously affordable. Hardwood floors. High ceilings. An antique clawfoot tub. When you visit the unit, sunlight pours in like a promise. You pause at the window, tracing the skyline in your mind like you’re sketching a new future.

The landlord is handsome in that quiet, overlooked kind of way. He introduces himself as Andy, says he inherited the building from his grandfather. Says he’s doing some renovations—you’ll hear some noise now and then, hope that’s not a dealbreaker. He smiles like he’s nervous. Like he isn’t used to people looking directly at him.

You don’t ask too many questions. The building feels safe. Andy feels harmless. You’re tired of running.

So you sign the lease.

You don’t notice the way he watches you. Not at first.

The first few weeks are a blur of hospital rotations and late-night subway rides. You’re barely home long enough to unpack. When you do sleep, it’s dreamless, like your mind’s been rinsed clean by exhaustion. You only vaguely remember Andy helping you carry your boxes upstairs, his fingers brushing yours when he handed over the keys. You’d thanked him. Smiled.

Sometimes you hear footsteps in the hallway at odd hours. A whisper of movement. But you tell yourself it’s just another tenant. You haven’t met your neighbors yet. You don’t plan to.

The first time something feels off is when you find your toothbrush slightly damp at 7 p.m. You haven’t used it since morning. You think maybe you’re being paranoid. Then your shampoo is in a different spot. Your towels are folded differently. The window in the bathroom is open when you never open it.

You change the locks.

Andy drops by with a bottle of wine a few days later. Says it’s a welcome gift. You accept it awkwardly, standing half-behind your door. You never drink it.

That night, you hear a thud inside the walls. You tell yourself it’s the pipes. Old buildings do that.

You feel eyes on you when you sleep.

You can’t explain it. It’s like your body knows something before your mind can catch up. You start waking up in cold sweats. You start locking your bedroom door. You stop using the bathtub.

Then one night, you wake up to the sound of breathing.

Not your own.

You freeze, heart pounding. You listen. It’s faint, ragged. Almost desperate. You flick on the light.

Nothing.

You check every room. You look under the bed, in the closet, behind the shower curtain. You find nothing but shadows. Still, you feel it. Someone has been in here.

You go to Andy the next day. You try to be casual, but your voice trembles. You ask if there’s any chance someone has access to your apartment. He frowns, concerned. Says he’ll change the locks personally. Says he’ll install extra security. Says it with the same calm voice a doctor might use before slipping in a needle.

You almost believe him.

Then you find the camera.

It’s hidden behind the vent in your bedroom. You only see it because the grate is slightly ajar. Tiny. Barely noticeable. You wouldn’t have noticed it at all if the wind hadn’t shifted the angle of light on the wall.

You don’t scream. You sit there, your heart slowly collapsing in your chest. Your skin prickles with invisible hands. Every second you’ve ever spent in this apartment flashes through your mind—every moment alone, every private breath.

He’s been watching you.

You leave that night.

You get a hotel. You call the cops. You tell them everything.

But by the time they investigate, the camera’s gone. The vent is closed. The apartment is clean. No signs of forced entry. No fingerprints. Just you and your paranoia.

You try to stay at a friend’s, but you can’t stop looking over your shoulder. You can’t stop imagining him slipping into your room in the middle of the night. You start seeing Andy’s face in crowds. In reflections. In your sleep.

You change your phone number. You quit your residency.

But he still finds you.

He waits for you in your hotel room. You come back from a late dinner, fumbling with your keycard, and he’s just there, inside. Like he’s always belonged there. Like you’re the one intruding.

He doesn’t threaten. He just talks.

He tells you he didn’t mean to scare you. That he just wanted to be close to you. That he fell in love the moment he saw you. That he made your apartment perfect because you deserved it.

That he watched you cry after phone calls and wanted to hold you.

That he listened to your breathing because it was the only sound that ever made him feel calm.

You back away slowly. You have a knife in your purse. You never used to carry one.

You draw it as he steps closer.

He doesn’t stop.

You stab him in the side.

He gasps. Bleeds. Smiles.

And still, still, he tries to touch your face like it’s the last thing he’ll ever see.

AN: I stole the plot from The Resident.

Masterlist

[zinitech]

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[wethotcrazy]

CAN'T CONTROL IT

pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 739

just something a little short and sweet for franco colapinto. also i think the can't control their mouth and can't control their face would suit him well?! idk bro

The F1 social media team had a new favorite hobby: catching YN's reactions to everything Franco Colapinto did.

It started during pre-season testing in Bahrain. Franco, fresh in his Williams racing suit, had spun on his installation lap – a rookie mistake that had the paddock chuckling. The TV director, whether by instinct or divine intervention, cut immediately to YN in the Alpine garage.

Her expression was poetry in motion: eyes rolling skyward, lips pressed together to suppress a smile, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I can't believe this" and "that's my idiot" in one fluid movement.

The clip went viral within hours.

"Have you seen this?" Franco bounded into the Alpine hospitality area, phone already extended. "'Every Time YN Dies Inside Watching Franco Colapinto: Testing Edition' – they even put sad violin music over your faces!"

YN didn't need to look. She'd already seen the compilation – a masterfully edited collection of her various reactions to Franco's testing adventures. Her personal favorite was the slow-motion zoom on her face when he'd described his first F1 car as "spicy."

"I'm starting to think you do these things on purpose," she muttered, but her treacherous face was already softening at his enthusiasm.

"Maybe I just like seeing your reactions," he winked, dropping into the seat beside her. "Remember in F3 when you said your face wasn't that expressive?"

"Remember in F2 when you said you'd learned to think before speaking?"

His laugh echoed through the hospitality area. "Some things never change, no?"

The Australian GP brought new material for the ever-growing collection of "YN Can't Control Her Face" content. As Alpine's reserve driver, she was in the garage when Franco scored his first F1 points – a remarkable P8 in a chaotic race.

His radio message was pure, unfiltered Franco: "P8! P8! YN, are you watching? Better than that time in F2 when you said I'd never score points because I was too busy talking!"

The cameras found her instantly: pride blooming across her features before she could school them into professional neutrality.

"Every time they show your face, the comments explode," Esteban teased later. "I think you've got more screen time than some of the actual drivers."

YN groaned. "Don't remind me. Someone made a TikTok trend out of my different 'Franco Reactions.'"

"At least you're not 'Can't Control His Mouth' Colapinto," Pierre chimed in. "Did you hear him in the press pen? He spent five minutes explaining how you once bet him he couldn't qualify top 10 without talking on team radio."

"Did he mention he lost that bet?"

"No, but your face when they asked you about it said everything."

Monaco was where things reached new heights. Franco, running in P6 during practice, had been providing commentary that somehow always circled back to YN:

"YN's watching, no? Tell her this is how you take the hairpin properly—" Franco spoke through team radio confidently before scraping through the hairpin.  "Ah. Maybe not like that."

The camera cuts to YN's perfect face-palm, followed by a head shake that somehow conveyed both "I knew it" and "why am I even surprised" in one swift motion.

The resulting clip went viral on Tiktok and became F1's most-watched social media post of the weekend.

"You know what I think?" Franco asked one evening, as they shared takeaway in the quiet of the paddock after everyone else had left. The cameras were finally off, but YN's face was as expressive as ever in the dim light.

"That's a dangerous start to any conversation with you."

He grinned, nudging her shoulder. "I think you like that I can't control my mouth."

"And what makes you say that?" she asked, trying and failing to keep her expression neutral.

"Because every time I talk about you, you make this face – like you're trying not to smile but can't help it. It's my favorite one."

"I do not have a special face for when you talk about me."

"Si, you do! You're making it right now!"

She threw a napkin at him, but her smile – soft and genuine and completely uncontrolled – gave her away.

The next day, during the drivers' briefing, Alex caught Franco staring at YN with an expression that mirrored all of hers – soft and fond and entirely unguarded.

The photo went viral with the caption: "Looks like neither of them can control anything anymore 💕"

[rtnae]

Toner cartridges in dubai

Recycling and Disposal: Toner cartridges can be recycled to minimize environmental impact. Many manufacturers and retailers offer recycling programs where used cartridges can be returned for proper disposal or refilling.#Toner cartridges #Printer servicing in Dubai 

[theeartuaist]

The Most Terrifying Yandere: When They Have ACTUAL Power

I've rambled before about the yanderes that both fascinate me and keep me up at night – the manipulative ones who isolate you so gradually you don't notice until it's too late, the ones who are SO self-aware that they can't be reasoned with because they KNOW exactly what they're doing...

But there's another type that genuinely makes my skin crawl in the best/worst way possible: The yandere with actual POWER.

I'm not talking about yanderes with supernatural abilities (though they are terrifying, too - I'll maje a post dedicated to them another day). I'm talking about yanderes who hold positions of REAL institutional authority and can use legitimate systems against you. The ones who don't just stalk you – they have the means to LEGALLY monitor you. They don't need to break into your house – they have the AUTHORITY to enter it.

Think about it:

A methodical, calculated MENACE of a police officer yandere. They don't need to install hidden cameras in your home – they can park a patrol car outside your house and call it "routine surveillance."

They have access to traffic cams and license plate readers. They can run background checks on anyone who comes near you. They know exactly how long they can detain someone without cause. Every new friend in your life gets pulled over for a "broken taillight" and subtly threatened. Your ex suddenly has outstanding warrants. And if you try to report them? Guess who takes the report. Guess whose colleagues handle the investigation. Guess who knows exactly how to make evidence disappear.

Or a judge yandere doesn't need to break the law to ruin you – they ARE the law. They can sign warrants to search your property, freeze your assets for "ongoing investigations," and grant themselves custody if you have children together. They know every legal loophole, every procedural delay tactic. Their colleagues trust their judgment implicitly. Every legal avenue of escape gets mysteriously blocked by "proper procedure."

Or consider a psychiatrist yandere – the absolute nightmare of someone who can literally have you committed. Who can diagnose you with paranoid delusions when you try to expose them. Who has detailed notes on every vulnerability you've ever shared. Who can prescribe medications that make you foggy, compliant, dependent. "You're experiencing paranoid thoughts about me? That's a symptom we discussed in our session last week. I'm concerned your condition is worsening. I think we need to adjust your medication." And everyone – EVERYONE – believes them over you, because they're the expert on your mental health.

Or worse, what about a government official yandere. They don't need to hack your accounts – they have legal access to your data. Every email, every search, every location ping. They can flag you as a person of interest the moment you try to flee. They can ensure you're "randomly selected" for additional screening at every airport. They can see every conversation you have asking for help and be waiting when you arrive at the "safe place" someone offered. Maybe they can even flag your passport, freeze your accounts for "suspicious activity," and make you a person of interest the moment you try to flee.

The absolute nightmare of having someone obsessed with you who can also leverage entire SYSTEMS to keep you. Someone whose authority is rarely questioned. Someone who doesn't need to hide their surveillance because it's LITERALLY THEIR JOB to watch people.

What makes these scenarios so much more terrifying than the typical yandere is that you can't even prove anything wrong is happening. It all looks legitimate on paper. It all follows protocols and procedures. There's always a plausible, professional explanation:

"We received an anonymous tip about your friend's involvement in illegal activities."

"These medications are standard treatment for your condition."

"This restraining order against your family member is based on documented threats."

"Your passport has been flagged due to identity verification concerns."

While they systematically cut off every escape route you might have.

And that point, what defence do you have when the very institutions meant to protect you become the architecture of your prison? When the person obsessed with you doesn't have to hide in the shadows because they have an office with their name on the door and the authority to keep you right where they want you?

[zablife]

👀

A/N: Seeing the phone at the bottom of the frame gave me a devilish idea. Quick warning for voyeurism.

Zara is an OC I created. Read more about her in Harry and the Brat.

Harry isn’t a creep…at least that’s what he tells himself when he starts watching Conrad’s granddaughter from the secret cameras he’s installed in her bedroom. After all, the governor had been clear in his instruction to keep eyes on her at all times. And who could blame Harry for taking that order literally when she was always putting herself at risk?

If he thought he was glued to his phone before, it now becomes an appendage, checking on her diligently every moment he's away from the family compound. His eyes linger a bit longer than necessary in the evenings as she struts around in her short nighties. Squinting against the grainy feed, he resists the urge to fish his glasses from his shirt pocket, the illusion of privacy making him feel morally superior to the bodyguards who look up her skirt every time she climbs into the Range Rover.

Harry is a respected professional who's only doing his job. That's how he justifies listening in on her as well. Any strange noises could signal trouble and he wants to be ready. That's what he tells himself the night he hears her desperate whimpers filling the air. He watches her writhe beneath the duvet far longer than he should, if only to be sure there isn't someone there with her. Any good bodyguard would do the same, right?

If he hadn't been watching so intently, he might have missed the way she tossed the blankets aside to finger herself in plain sight of the nearest camera. He thought he could make out a wicked smile, directed at him, but he wasn't absolutely sure until he heard Zara's breathless pants, "Are you watching, Harry?"

[lxndonorris]

new season, new suit - Charles Leclerc (SFS24)

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smut (you've been warned) Theme: you're attending the ferrari photoshoot, watching Charles pose like the model he is. What happens when he invites you to the changing room? word count: 2080+ taglist: @game-set-canet the second installment of the suit fitting saga 2024.

Your heart buzzes with anticipation as the new Formula 1 season looms on the horizon, and Charles, your boyfriend and a professional racing driver for Scuderia Ferrari, is in the midst of a photoshoot for his team's new gear. 

The vibrant red racing suit, tailored to perfection, hugs his athletic frame like a second skin, accentuating every contour and muscle. Throughout the last few years, he has been a part of the Ferrari family, and they always manage to create such beautiful suits for him and his teammate. 

You watch Charles and Carlos strike poses, standing right next to each other, as the guy with the huge camera tells them what to do next.

When he invited you to join him for the shoot, you couldn't resist the opportunity to witness him in his element and, obviously, see the new suit on him.

As he strikes pose after pose, his smile contagiuos and his eyes sparkling with excitement, your heart swells with pride. Charles looks so handsome, with the fabric of the suit flowing perfectly across his firm body, accentuating all the right spots. 

Anytime he moves, you can't help but admire his physique: his big biceps bulging, his thick thighs, and his strong frame—just perfect. You feel a sudden rush of joy and excitement, knowing that he wants you there by his side.

With each click of the camera, you find yourself falling even more deeply in love with him.

Then Carlos walks away, looking at the pictures through the screen as Charles sits down, ready for another round.

That's when your eyes meet from across the room, and you notice a familiar glint of longing desire burning in his eyes. Charles licks his lips, lifts his chin, and strikes another pose: he runs a hand across his chest firmly, dragging the suit's fabric acoss as his hand reaches his neck. 

He takes a deep breath while resting his other hand casually on his thighs, right after he subtly strokes himself some more.

It feels like he is posing just for you, his gaze seeking yours amidst the whirlwind of activity surrounding us.

It's nearly impossible to look away until he focuses on the camera once more. Tension is building up inside your belly and chest, sending several shivers down your spine. 

For a moment, you look around. Someone might have watched this, exposing his teasing nature, but nobody reacts—just you.

That's when he strikes another pose, looking for your eyes once again. Sparks are flying when he opens his mouth, posing like a real model would, while his burning gaze pulls you in.

You notice his hands now stroking his chest shortly before a sly smirk creeps on his lips—the same smirk he would give you before kissing you in bed.

Letting out a low sigh, you regain your composure, but the thought of him on top of you, kissing you while encompassing your entire body with his soft hands, gives you goosebumps. 

You hear his voice inside your mind—a mere whisper, a soft moan—as he grinds his hips on yours. With his hand around your neck, he keeps on kissing you, pinning you to the bed. His desire presses against your thighs, asking for one special thing.

"That's it for now." The photographer's voice snaps you out of your daydreaming. He captures the last few shots before Charles regains his stance, running his hands one last time across his chest before approaching the computer.

They talk for a little while, while you can't help but sink back into that daydream. Closing your eyes, you try to push these thoughts away, but his low groans echo through every fiber of your body.

"Well, what do you think?" Charles' voice makes you jump slightly, and you open your eyes to find him standing right in front of you, a coy smile forming in the corner of his lips. "How do I look?"

"Stunning." You reply, letting your eyes wander all over him, noticing how firm his body has grown due to the excitement and tension building up throughout the shoot.

With a chuckle, Charles leans in close, his lips brushing against yours in a sweet and tender kiss.

"Carlos, your turn." A voice echoes through the studio as Carlos takes the stage. 

Both of you turn to watch him perform, just as well as Charles did before him. 

Then, however, Charles leans into you again, his lips inches away from your ear. 

"I hope you know how happy I am that you're here today." He breathes against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Thanks for the invitation." You turn to meet his gaze; his eyes sparkle in mischief.

Both of you turn back to watch Carlos strike another pose, but then Charles whispers into your ear again.

"I always feel so special wearing this gear." His voice is low and rough. "I want to share the first time wearing this suit with you." 

You dare not look at him, trying to avoid his gaze, but you're way too hooked not to look at him.

He bites his lower lip, trying to swallow a mischievous smirk, but subconsciously, he strokes his chest again, letting his hand slide down his suit to the faint bulge forming in his trousers.

"You're an idiot." You chuckle quietly, grab his chin with your hand, and push him away playfully.

For a second, you just watch the shoot play out in front of you, but then he turns back to you.

"I can tell Carlos is feeling the same." He chuckles to himself, and you can see his eyes now checking out his teammate.

"How?" You ask carefully, and he just motions for you to watch Carlos.

"Just watch his body move, so deliberately yet so naturally," Charles says, "just the way his muscles bulge—his chest, arms, and thighs. Just like mine." He swallows hard before turning his face back to yours. "Could you tell?"

Breathing deeply, you nod slowly. 

"Just so fucking good." Charles smiles, leans in, and kisses you again; this time, it's a much more passionate kiss.

As the photoshoot comes to an end and they talk about the pictures for a while, Charles turns to you with a playful grin, his eyes filled with warmth and affection.

"Care to join me backstage?" He asks, his voice low and husky—an offer you can't refuse.

With a nod, you take his hand, leading him toward the changing room. Luckily, each driver got their own little private area—enough space for the two of you to have some fun.

Inside, the air is filled with the scent of his cologne, wrapping you like a familiar embrace as he pulls you into him, his hands now tightly on your waist.

Steadying yourself against his strong frame, you take the opportunity to stroke his firm chest. His muscles are already as hard as rocks, and his clothes are barely able to contain his form. 

With a gentle touch, you run your hands over the fabric of the suit, marveling at its sleek texture against your fingertips. It was like silk beneath your touch—smooth and luxurious.

As you explore the contours of his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, Charles lets out a soft sigh, his eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange of desire. His hands run along your waistline to your arse, and you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through your veins.

Carefully, you unbutton the collar of his suit, exposing the zipper. You exchange a knowing look, and he lets you pull the zipper down, revealing the tight red fireproofs he is wearing underneath.

With a little help, his upper body slips out of his clothes, the sleeves now hanging down his waist. 

His undergarments are even tighter, just like a second skin that drags across his muscles, his nipples, and down his thick biceps and shoulders.

With a playful grin, Charles flexes his muscles, the fabric of the fireproofs stretching taut against his athletic frame. Every ripple and bulge is accentuated, showcasing his physique in all its glory—a sight to behold—and you can't tear your eyes away from him.

"Like what you see?" he teases, his voice so rough.

"Absoluetly," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Because I need this so much." Charles leans into you, kissing you. His body presses against yours, and right away, his hips grind against yours.

Together, you make your way through the room until you come to a standstill. You're standing with your back against a wall, Charles' lips tightly on yours, while one hand is around your neck, stroking you gently.

In response, you stroke his chest again and again, causing him to purr happily right in your mouth. The faint scent of his cologne grows stronger, swirling all around you as he runs a hand across your chest, your boobs, and right between your legs.

"Charles." You tilt your head, letting out a low grunt.

"I'm so hard right now," he replies, letting out a guttural groan from deep down his throat. His burning desire is rubbing against your thighs. So good.

"Let me handle that." You smirk, and in one swift motion, you turn him around, pressing his back against the concrete wall.

A devious smirk tugs at his lips, knowing very well what you're offering.

Placing a hand at his neck, you trace his firm jawline with your fingertips, enjoying how his very light stubble tickles your skin. 

You kiss him once, twice, again, and again, right on his lips, before you make your way down his chest.

"You're so handsome." Running your thumb along his soft, wet lips, you look into his eyes, causing him to take another deep breath. At the same time, you rub his member with the palm of your hand, as you know he enjoys that so much.

"You're gorgeous." He murmurs, his eyes wandering all over your face—from your lips to your cheeks and back to your eyes.

You let your hands run down his neck to his chest, firmly feeling his muscles through the fireproofs. You pinch his nipples—one of his sensitizing spots—causing him to swallow a long moan.

"That feels good." He breathes deeply.

Before you go any further, you pull his shirt up, exposing his beautiful, bare chest. At first, you trace his tangible abs with your index finger before you place longing kisses all over his skin.

Looking up, you catch him watching you closely. Charles licks his lips and strokes his own chest as you get on your knees.

With a little help from him, you manage to pull his suit down enough for him to present his length bulging through his undergarments.

"You're a big boy." You tease him by tracing the outlines of his member, causing him to smirk again.

"I've been hoping we would do that." He shakes his head, exhausted yet excited. "I couldn't think of anything else." His accent comes through slightly, making you smile.

By biting your lip at the sight of him struggling to keep a straight face, you won't edge him on any longer.

You pull his length out of his suit—it towers in front of you—and you take him in your mouth—a sensational, familiar feeling. His delicious taste spreads across your tongue while he takes several deep breaths, trying not to make too much noise.

As you move your mouth rhythmically, you watch his body follow your lead. All of him is longing for a much-needed release, and you're about to give it to him.

Charles strokes himself firmly, even leaning his head back against the wall. 

"So good." He runs a hand through your hair, stroking you and holding you in place at the same time.

"Mhmm." You moan, enjoying his taste all over your mouth. Your body shakes, and you steady yourself against his thighs, much to his amusement. 

"I'm so close." He growls, blinking a few times, before he can't help but release himself—fucking good.

You let go of him and separate yourself, watching him stroke his member before tugging it back into his underwear. 

"You're a fucking goddess." He chuckles, reaching for your hand and pulling you into another loving kiss.

"Thanks for today." You say, stroking his chest gently while staring into his beautiful eyes.

"I need to thank you." Charles smiles, and you hug each other tightly.

Together, you get changed before you return to the others already waiting for you.

[pinkofatom]

Office Tone

CW: brainwashing, pornification

Hi hi~

If you liked this story, please consider leaving a tip on my ko-fi

Enjoy 🩷

Dora adjusted the hem of her new office uniform for the third time that morning, tugging it down in a futile attempt to reclaim the modesty it so clearly lacked. The fabric clung in all the wrong places—tight at the hips, low at the neckline—and the heels clicked far too loudly on the polished tile floor as she made her way to Ms. Kellerman’s office.

She knocked once, then stepped inside.

"I’m sorry," Dora began, forcing a polite smile. "I just wanted to bring up a concern about the new dress code. It’s — well, it’s a bit too revealing for a professional setting, don’t you think?"

Ms. Kellerman, seated behind her immaculate glass desk, didn’t look up. She simply gestured toward the plush chair across from her, then reached over and pressed a small button on the desk. A low, melodic note rang out — a strange, shimmering tone that seemed to settle behind Dora’s eyes like a passing breeze.

Dora blinked. Her words caught in her throat.

"I mean," she continued slowly, her brows furrowing, "it’s not entirely inappropriate — just maybe a bit too revealing."

Again, Ms. Kellerman hit the button.

Again, that melodic note shimmered.

A faint, warm hum buzzed deep in the back of Dora's mind. She frowned, shaking her head slightly, then cleared her throat.

"No," Dora continued, falling down into the plush chair, "that's not entirely correct. Our outfits aren't inappropriate." She bit her lip, tugging again at her hemline, feeling a rush of heat that had nothing to do with temperature. She felt confused, lost. "I mean - perhaps our new office attire should be even more daring," Dora said, her cheeks flushing. She squeezed her thighs together.

Ms. Kellerman still focused on the screen. A pink hue shifted on her face. Again she simply pressed the button.

The note sounded louder now, and Dora gasped softly as the sensation of a hand cupped between her thighs briefly, then evaporated. Her skin tingled as if the air itself had become viscous and electric. She blinked rapidly.

"To be honest, Ms. Kellermann, I think our clothes could use a little touch-up. They’re a tad bit boring." Dora shifted in her seat, crossing one long leg over the other, her short skirt hiking higher. She felt a curious disconnect, as if she was watching her own words, the movements of her body, from afar. She was faintly aware that something was off — that her complaints were changing — but as soon as the concern arose it melted away again.

Eroded under the beautiful notes playing in her head, a gentle and persistent pressure building in her core.

Ms. Kellerman let out a barely audible moan, fingers pushing down on the button.

The note echoed again, and Dora's eyes glazed over with desire, her pulse pounding in her ears. She couldn't resist; she had to continue talking. Had to get to that next press of a button. Her legs shifted, the soft fabric of her panties damp, and she could practically taste Ms. Kellerman’s perfume on her tongue.

"Perhaps it's best if we dress more slutty for the office," Dora murmured, her voice husky with need. Her fingers twitched on her lap, her breath hitched. The word “slutty” hung in the air between them. The word felt foreign and taboo. Wrong. It felt wrong to say something so crude to Ms. Kellerman.

But the sound erased that concern.

"Yes, slutty," Dora emphasized, the word falling off her tongue like honey. She felt hot and cold all at once. Her breath hitched as the words stumbled past her lips. "It should make us look cheap and trashy."

Ms. Kellermann let out another soft moan as she hit the button again. The melodic note echoed throughout the room, the vibration settling into Dora's very bones.

"We should look like hookers," Dora purred, shifting again, the word “hookers” leaving a delicious, shameful tingle on her tongue. "Maybe install some cameras all over the office and record ourselves while at work," she suggested, a sly smirk on her lips.

Ms. Kellerman didn’t react beyond another subtle shift in the pink on her face.

"Yes, and it should stream live on some shady website for people to jerk off on us," Dora continued, as the melody continued. She wanted — no, needed — to keep going. Her own voice was turning her on, her thighs trembling. It was an itch she had to scratch. "Let all those horny men and lonely women get themselves off. Office whores live to please, after all," she moaned, her hips involuntarily squirming.

Finally, Ms Kellerman looked at Dora — her face blank, pink swirling in empty blue eyes.

"We'd love it," she whispered, almost to herself.

And with a final press of the button, Dora was gone.

The next morning Dora showed up early to work in a skirt so short it could easily be mistaken for a thick belt — and heels high enough to tower above even the most well-built men.

She wasn't the only one — the whole office buzzed with women dressed like pornstars instead of professionals. Short, tight, and daring.

Slutty and sexy.

And it was just the way Dora loved it — a shift she embraced with eager and open arms. She watched with giddy anticipation as her female co-workers strolled in, their bodies on full display.

Each movement a deluxe meal for the eyes — and cameras.

[abnormallyweird]

Love and Freakspace drabbles

In which we delve into the topic of how often and the techniques which the LADS men use to stroke it. And for anyone wondering, this came to us because we A: made lads guys in sims - and B: just happen to have wicked whims installed. These circumstances just happened to prompt the question, how would the guys jerk their pickles.

CALEB :3

Is a professional in edging if there ever was one. He is literally a man starved. A man forced to hold it all back. A possessive, obsessive, jealous fuck of a guy. He can't go a single day without thinking about you. Pictures of you line his room, surveillance cams perfectly placed around your apartment. His phone wallpaper? You. His camera roll? Pictures of you. He can't stop himself, it's not his fault. What else is he supposed to do when all he wants to do is see you, hear you, smell you, taste you, touch you? He is a mad man.

And what else is he supposed to do other than use his hand to stroke the red-hot tip of his dick to the slightest thought of you? But he can't get himself to finish. Not because he can't, no. But because the thought of spilling -wasting- his cum with his hand instead of relentlessly teasing you and filling you to the brim with his seed gets him so upset that he simply can't bring himself to waste any. Prayers go out to you if you find yourself in our dear Colonel's sleeping quarters, the pent up sexual frustration and cum building within him will have you bound to his bed for an ungodly amount of time. He'll take care of you though, don't worry your pretty little head about that, he has been waiting to take care of you like this for years. Just... prepare yourself for round after round. He's been so good after all...

~~ more below the cut! <3 ~~

XAVIER :3

Sleepy little space boy has no problem falling asleep, but on some nights, when all he can hear is you laughing with your friends through the thin walls of your separate apartments floods his bedroom late at night, all he can think about is how he could be making you laugh, he could be making you smile, he could be making you beg, on your back in his bed as he takes in your body, his face aligned with your heat as you beg for him to finally stop teasing you, tears threatening to escape with your mewls. Except that's not going to happen. Not tonight anyways. And so our space cadet turns to the tissues and lotion at his bedside, driving himself to climax as he watches a video he managed to screen record- a video that your naughty little self decided to send to him one night, a video of you absolutely abusing your cunt, crying out his name- a video in which he obviously replied to with one of his own pink, throbbing cock being viciously stroked, delicious moans of your name and endless praise bouncing around his bedroom.

"Xavier~" is the last thing heard before he finishes all over his hands and being soaked up by the tissues as the sobering reality kicks in, the fact that you aren't in his place with him to do whatever he wants to you. However, he is just as excited to take you in every square inch of the apartment tomorrow morning, eager to make his fantasies a reality.

SYLUS :3

Unfortunately, Sylus simply does not believe in masturbating. With his lifestyle, there's simply no time to. If he wanted to rock his socks off, he would simply come and have sex with you. Despite this, he obviously doesn't deny the topic as taboo, in fact, he loves to hear about your regular endeavors with your vibrator, the way you softly speak and look down to the side as you admit to moaning- screaming - his name as you play with yourself.

On one hand, he can't help but adore the fact that even in his absence, you are so devoted that you need to scream his name and imagine his cock in order to finish- However he also cant help but feel jealous. Not as if he's competing with anyone, except for the lucky toy that gets to grace your body every night instead of him. So as you lay in bed with him tonight, with his large hands grazing your body, his body casting a shadow over you as he pounds himself into you, the candlelight softly flickering in the dim room, he cant help but relish in the sounds only he can hear, the sounds you make for him and only him, even when you're by yourself, and he cums hard at the sound of your voice crying out his name as your nails sink into his skin.

RAFAYEL

Jerks off for.. artistic reasons.. or... autistic reasons ? autistic reasoning being you ? ok fr . Rafayel will jerk it a 'normal amount' whatever that is, but he'll particularly get into it whenever he needs inspiration or has a bad case of art block. Whether its in his studio looking at his unfinished painting or in the bath tub, he'll close his eyes and imagine you in some new position. He'll hear the soft melody of your voice in his ears, he'll feel your gentle (or harsh) touch, and he'll try to imagine your scent. Scent is a bit more difficult for him to imagine but don't fret! he definitely has something of yours that he keeps with him for times like this :) he'll grab whatever you left at his place, a shirt, a stuffed animal, or even a towel you previously used that he hadn't washed yet. If you're one to be harsher with him, he'd absent mindedly do the same whilst touching himself. Rubbing hard, using his nails, maybe holding onto his own neck and limiting his breathing. It might take him awhile but he'll eventually reach his climax, his head will clear, and he'll be inspired once more.

Aside from all that, he's big on sending and receiving nudes. He doesn't care about inconveniencing you, he'll ask for them when you're at work, out with friends, or at the doctors. He has no shame and he's consistent.

"wuddya doing rn? I need help with smth"

"Im working, Rafayel, what is it?"

"well I'm in the middle of painting and you'll never guess what happened to me"

"what happened?"

"I completely lost motivation :0"

"oh. Idk how I can help you with that rn. I'm supposed to be writing my report rn. Maybe go for a walk?"

"nah. Just put ur phone under ur desk, lift ur skirt and send me a photo or smth. Nothing else will work, Mc !"

"absolutely not, Rafayel"

"mccc ;("

"if I never release another painting, become poor, and end up on the streets maybe then my bodyguard will actually care about me and my work"

"Rafayel wtf T-T"

"I send one u send one?"

".. fine."

This isn't to say he'd force someone to send photos of themselves, this scenario is one where he knows mc has no problem with it and if mc shot him down fr he'd stop :P

This one (Rafayel) was written by admin two >:) bc admin one is sleeping hehehahaha.

Zayne

As with most things, he doesn't easily give into desire. He's one to ignore the urge or to hardly ever get an urge to stroke his shit. Maybe he has a long day ahead of him and needs to rest, and the only thing left that he can think of doing to end his discomfort is touching himself. Or perhaps, on rare occasion, he's giving in to his natural urges. He knows the logistics behind it, he logistically knows how to do it but it just doesn't feel good. Growing a little frustrated and about to give up, he closes his eyes and tries once more, this time his mind wanders to you, mc. Eyes kept closed, he gets more into the rhythm of it. He thinks about your smile, your laugh, the way your hand grazed his yesterday at his office. He's never felt more ashamed than he does now, imagining you, his friend and close companion, who he loves but cannot be with, to get himself off. Perhaps the shame etches him on, or perhaps he manages to ignore it, either way his usual long task is shortened by the thought of mc. He's not prepared for when he does climax, it comes to him suddenly and cuts through any scenario he was imagining. Afterwards, he'd wash thoroughly and try to finally get the rest he so needs. Thankfully he is rich and his walls are nicely insolated, he can get a bit loud!

hmm some notes. I do think it'd be somewhat difficult for him to get it up on his own, not because he's flaccid or smth but I just think he has less of a sex drive as well as a lack of interest and !! tbh he seems too caught up in work and his sorrows. hehehe this has also been admin two.

I take my hat off and bow at my audience. this has been our silly little lads drabble. We can always write more!!! Let us know :P

[eldritch-spouse]

Fucking robot. Why does he always bother me during breaks? He doesn't even need breaks.

“Hi Xavier. Was there something that you needed?”

You know he likes you because he bothers to address you by your name. As opposed to a serialized string of numbers and letters.

The numbers before your shift code and initials make you wonder just how many of them there were before you. How many he tossed away after an unfortunate workplace accident. That tag on your uniform is more of a death sentence than anything.

'Like'... As if this tin can is actually able of feeling.

It's more realistic to say he sees value in you, for some reason, and employs some kind of social algorithm to fabricate a twisted sort of relationship.

" You have been consistently distracted lately. "

Is that a warning?

Two red abyss-like orbs cast a crimson filter upon your face. It always feels like Xavier is watching you a little too closely, monitoring more than just your verbal responses.

" Ah, my bad! " You force a wobbly smile. " I promise it doesn't get in the way of my wo- "

" It does. " He silences you immediately, imposing and unforgiving in his cold corrections. " Clients notice when you zone out. Your movement speed is drastically reduced and the chances of committing errors -which you have by now- is considerably increased. Spacing out this much is in no way acceptable behavior for a multitude of... "

Only the very real notion that he's noting your facial expressions stops you from rolling your eyes at the robot's tireless monolog regarding the dangers and consequences of being distracted at work. One of your eyes still manages to twitch, as if in defiance.

" Yes sir, I understand. " You try to cut in, try to abort that speech before it turns into a whole lecture.

One camera cranes down slightly. " Your reputation as the exemplary employee is being damaged. "

Xavier says this like it should make you anxious. You hate that he thinks of you as an example, that he emphasizes it constantly. Not only is it putting unnecessary pressure on you for no compensation, it's also costing you the few mild friendships you have worked to maintain in this hostile minefield of an environment.

The more he speaks of you as some ideal of professionalism, the more others give you judgemental side-eyes. Sneers. Avoid you. Spread snide comments that then find their way to you through gossip.

Maybe if Xavier stopped exalting your mediocre performance, your asshole coworkers would stop murmuring that you've been orally pleasing the glorified microwave.

Xavier doesn't even have a dick! Why would he?! He's an artifical stand in for a manager that only cares about the dehumanizing process of maximizing profit.

He doesn't have a penis. You think.

You only realize a long silence has installed itself this whole time when the robot breaks it.

" ... Are you ill? "

" Huh- No. No, I just have a lot on my mind. I'll work on it boss. "

There's another pause. This time, you presume Xavier is waiting for you to cave under pressure, or counting the pores on your complexion. You bet he'd know the exact number.

" You have not allowed access to more in-depth medical records. If I had such a permission, I would be able to rework your current shift into something more suitable for any preexisting conditions such as- "

" Uh no sir, no. I don't think that's relevant, it's probably just my sleep schedule. " The thought of Xavier knowing about your health beyond what is strictly necessary for employment is chilling to the core.

He takes the rejection silently, lenses refreshing.

" I know who is bothering you. "

Xavier says, so naturally and spontaneously that you gawk for a moment, forever surprised by his eery bursts of casual remarks.

" ... Pardon? "

These moments make it seem as if there's more than mere cold calculations running through his processor components.

Xavier drifts that much closer to you, now suffocating your personal space. Only the crimson of his camera lenses light the dingy alley you've chosen as your break spot.

" Incubus, Babesley. Masseur. He has self-inflicted carvings on his body consisting of infatuated statements and your name. "

You rattle for a second, the memory of the demon's mutilated chest surfacing, his wild and desperate eyes searching yours for a hint of approval that wasn't there, only disgust and fear.

" Wrathfolk, Mozgrag. Trapper. Teamed up with the incubus upon being confronted, effective in forcing his way to you at any cost. "

Another memory flashes by, burly hands carelessly tearing the horns out of someone's head, he'd look at you when the screams rang, attempting to prove something you only saw as terrifying murderous intent.

Shaken, irritated, afraid, you openly glare at Xavier.

" Why haven't you done anything... " It was too quiet to sound as confrontational as you wished.

There's a split second where his stiff arms twitch, like the machine was trying to roll its shoulders. Cameras tilt and reposition, erroneously assuming the light from his lenses is what's causing you to tear up.

" The customer is always right. " Faintly, or perhaps just in your head, his words sounded dragged out.

" Then what's the problem?! "

You can't help the childish irritation, the desire to pluck your hairs out of your scalp in a pull that might just tear your skin asunder. You want to scream and kick this stupid fucking machine until it shuts off. Why does he bother you during your breaks to ask things that make no sense, to unnerve you, to create contradictions. You've never had a positive interaction with this robot. Why would he mention those two if he seemingly has no problem with their attitudes?

You know he doesn't care, because your coworkers are also living through their own cases of harassment at the hands of the denizens of Hell. You've had to pretend you didn't hear the sound of a cashier's arm being twisted in all the wrong directions before. Reminded that quitting is not an option, that you can only pray such doesn't happen to you.

" Your performance- "

No. Shut up.

" Okay, let's do some math, Xavier. " You growl. " My precious work performance is being impacted by a lot of things, but mainly those two. Those two are customers, and the customer is always right, aren't they? So there's nothing to be done, yeah?! Stop- "

Your confidence begins to falter when you realize you've stepped out of line, that you snapped at your own superior. The fear of consequences flashes very briefly across your eyes. That's enough, you need to calm down. You need to leave.

Xavier's silence doesn't help.

" I'll... I'll be heading back to work now. "

Head hanging low, you attempt to swiftly retreat into work, halted quickly by cold metal wrapping around your arm.

His grip is as frighteningly solid as it is sudden.

You don't remember Xavier having ever touched you before.

When you squirm around to glance at him, ask what he thinks he's doing, those two cameras pin you into silent obedience. You could never hope to free yourself of his grasp, only if you wished to tear a limb out of its socket.

" Do you think I enjoy these limitations? "

There's a mute gasp. Then the pain of his grip tightening, restricting your blood flow into a tingling soreness. Your teeth bare themselves.

" I don't think you enjoy anything at all, machine. "

It was ruthless, yet, deep down, you almost believed it.

Xavier stares at you for another prolonged period of time, unaware that the pain in your arm is only worsening. You have no idea what occurs behind those lenses, what those words might mean to him.

Metallic fingers unclasp with the slowness of a decompressing blood pressure monitor, allowing you to yank your own limb back and hold it to your chest like an animal licking its wounds.

" ... This issue will be resolved. "

He doesn't make a move to follow after you. In fact, Xavier remains staring forward, at the empty space where you once stood.

Maybe you broke him. Who cares, he might give you peace for the rest of your shift.

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with Fotogramas (2025)

What was this British actor missing in his career after the mega-successes of 'Wicked' and 'Bridgerton'? Perhaps a blockbuster with the prestige of 'Jurassic World: Rebirth', in which he stars alongside, and about which he spoke to us exclusively from London.

You can now find the June issue of FOTOGRAMAS at your newsstand, where we talk to Jonathan Bailey about the sweet moment he is experiencing professionally. To the club of staunch fans of the television soap opera 'Bridgerton', where he plays Lord Anthony, last year he added the legion of viewers who came to the box office to see him sing, he danced and enchanted the characters of Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande in the first installment of the musical 'Wicked'. And starting this summer, he will be the co-star, alongside Scarlett Johansson, in 'Jurassic World: Rebirth.'

"Every actor dreams that their work reaches others," the performer reflect. "It doesn't matter if there are few spectators in a small theater or millions of viewers. Actors need to know that we reach the audience, that what we do is being received. When you think that what you do has a global impact, a kind of vertigo hits you, but then you have to think about not letting that affect you: you visualize a single audience member and commit to giving it your all, to doing your best. But, well, going back to your question: yes, it's a fantastic time for me as an actor."

Friendly (he was concerned about how we in Spain had experienced the black out of last April 28), nice and displaying an undeniable appeal, Jonathan Bailey emphasizes that surreal fantasy he was confessing of living: "We filmed in the same London studios where Wicked was made, and I had an attack of laughter when I realized that in the same place where I had been dancing with the munchkins, I now had to pretend that I was being chased by a Jurassic creature with a very bad temper. Do you know what I thought of? 'Jurassic World: The Musical'! Dancing among and with dinosaurs. Now that I think about it, there has been a lot of choreography in the movie. The action scenes are basically choreographies. Every little movement of the actors, the cameras, and those dinosaurs that will be added with digital effects in post-production are planned out. My training in dance has been very useful for the amazing action sequences you'll see in 'Jurassic World: The Rebirth'. If you add to that that in several of them, to immerse us more into the situation, Gareth (Edwards, the film's director) played the music of John Williams from the early features of the franchise through the speakers on set, feeling like I was in a musical wasn't far-fetched."

With that idea in mind (never say never, Bailey starred in a musical about American Psycho) of a premiere in London West End of a musical with dancing and singing dinosaurs forever implanted in our brains, we asked the actor to remember his first time in this universe born from a novel by Michael Crichton and the talent Steven Spielberg. "My three sisters, my parents and I went together to see Jurassic Park in cinemas. I was very little but many of the images still stayed with me, some of which I probably invented because we all went back together when it returned in theatre for an anniversary, and I searched for them but couldn't see those scenes anymore. Everytime it returned in theatre, I have always went back to see it, enjoying it. As I did for the rest of the saga, of course. Being part of this franchise, and seeing your name attached next to Steven Spielberg, to Frank Marshall, makes me feel happiness the size of Tyrannosaurus. From the minute they asked me to partecipate in this project, they made me feel part of it, continuing the work other actors before me had done so well. They have been extremely generous with me: I went to see post-production, I attended the recording of the soundtrack by Alexandre Desplat and the orchestra..."

And that feeling of childness was precisely what Gareth Edwards wanted to have during the filming of Jurassic World Rebirth. "The secret of the Jurassic Park franchise is that it appelead to our sense of wonder, the performer identifies with a subject that touch the innocence of what a child has, that feeling that Steven Spielber was able to recreate, and convince us that dinosaurs were alive again. Gareth asked the artistic team to recover those feelings and to experience each scene as something wonderful, real but also dangerous because of course there is a lot of risk and suspense in the movie, but to be amazed to be able to interact with monstrous creatures, even if they weren't present on set. Let me tell you an anecdote: on location in Thailand we filmed a spectacular scene in which the expedition led by Scarlett Johansson, of which I'm part of, is attacked by a pack of dinosaurs. We ran, we screamed, we went from a place to another, we feel as we were being pushed...And when Gareth yelled 'cut', there was a moment of silence that was interrupted by an applause. Obviously it was just us, but everyone lived and experienced that scene as the dinosaurs were truly there."

The animatronics were there during the filming, including a baby dinosaur that delighted the cast, and also some special guests: Jonathan Bailey's nieces who visited the set in London. They also went to the Wicked's set. "They ignored me there because there was Ariana Grande, and here because the animatonic was a delight. David Koepp has returned to the saga as a screenwriter, and that's been noticeable," Bailey continues. "It's not about the nostalgia, about cloning what made Jurassic Park great in the 90s, but more about reviving the magic of adventure by expanding the narrative framework that has to do with the presence of having dinosaurs among us again. That return thought science raised many questions and dilemmas, and here David re-opens those etical and scientific debates. He has done it in the old fashioned way, without losing what the movie is truly about: a great adventure for families. The idea of family has always been present in this franchise, and our movie is no exception. The relationship between Scarlett's and my character with the kids of Manuel Garcia Rulfo's character, whose shipwrecked on the island where the action takes place, it is part of Spielber's mark. His movies always speak of families: it's his greatest virtue." And the filming atmosphere was familial: "We became a close group", Bailey acknowledges, "a family and we enjoyed the work."

"I thought the same thing!" the actor jumps in his seat when we ask him if it was a coincidence that his character Dr. Loomis (Henry) resembles another Dr. Loomis (Sam), Donald Pleasance from the Halloween franchise. "It's surely a private, cinephile joke by David Koepp or Gareth Edwards," he assures us. "Because...are these two fictional doctors similar? No, they aren't. I think, except for Pleasance perseverance in capturing Michael Myers, my character is a lover and protector of dinosaurs, of life in general. His motto is that survival is a long distance race. He's not a lab rat: he's partecipated to other expeditions before, but this is undoubtely the riskiest one because he has to identify, locate and extract the DNA of three different species, which with it will be possible to develop a medicine that will be beneficial for humans. This movie will not explore and delve a parallel between the extinction of dinosaurs with the possible extinction of humans like previous movies. It goes down other paths, although, it does vindicate all those species that sacrificed themselves on Isla Nublar to show us that in a certain way, all the creatues that inhabit this planet have a connection that can help us to continue to live here together. Henry is a palentologist who doesn't hesitate to act like Indiana Jones. He combines aspects of the character played by Sam Neill but with the cynicism from Jeff Goldblum's character. The thing is that you can't be sole hero if Zora Bennett, Scarlett Johansson's role is there. She plays a sort of mercenary, specialist in high-risk missions. Her right hand is Duncan Kincaid, played by Mahershala Ali. They represent the adventure of the movie. Villains? Perhaps the pharmaceutical magnate played by Rupert Friend, who only thinks about financial gain. But everyone has to work together to survive."

Source

[smartvisionplus]

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