#also diane's strap is big

[stnaf-vn]

YABOI NOTICE ME PLS

I’m a huge Diane simp 🥺. I’d love to know, even though Diane is in a poly relationship, will she be dateable in game? Also can we maybeee… have some NSFW crumbs of her pls 👉👈 not enough Diane love around here.

Diane will be a dateable character in the game! Diane, Carter, and Z are all open love interests!! Now for some spicy Diane HC's~

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Diane is very loving and doting during sex. She will help you clean up and will make a bomb-ass soup.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Favorite Body Part of Hers: Something she is really proud of is her muscles. She works really hard on them and is proud of them! Favorite Body Part of Yours: She likes your entirety, but she also really enjoys holding your waist.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) She enjoys giving oral, and loves tasting you on her tongue. She likes to swallow.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) She doesn't really have a dirty secret. Whatever you want to know, she will tell you

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) She is moderately experienced, she knows what she is doing, but she also knows everyone is different in what pleases them. So, she will ask for directions on what to do!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Her favorite position is "Standing Congress"

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) She is a bit of both! She feels like its important to share at least one laugh.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) She trims herself every week! She doesn't like to fully shave, it irritates her skin.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) There are lots of "is this okay?" and "do you want to try this?" She is extremely caring, and will put your pleasure before her own.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) She doesn't typically use toys on herself when she touches herself, she likes to just use her hand and imagine some ~scenarios~ She masturbates like twice a week, so she doesn't do it super often.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) She is a bit of a soft dom. She has a begging kink (she likes it when you beg), she also has a thing for making you so fucked-out you can't think at all :)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) She likes private places (her room, your room, she prefers just the bedrooms)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Something that gets her going is eye contact and begging. One look from you and a little whimpery "please?", and she is ready to go.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Diane, similar to the other characters, is not into ageplay,etc.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) She prefers giving oral! She likes tasting you, but she also wouldn't mind receiving every now and then~

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) She likes to take things slow, especially with foreplay. She does lots of foreplay before getting into it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) She isn't a big fan of quickies, she likes being able to take her time with you and letting you feel the full experience.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) She can experiment, if you want to try something new, although she isn't one to typically come up with something new to try.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) She can last a good couple of rounds before she just wants to cuddle with you and tell you how amazing you are. She's a softie.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) She does own a fair share of toys. (Strap-ons, vibrators, etc.) She typically uses them for her partners, she's not one to use them on her own.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) She can tease a fair bit during the foreplay part, but doesn't do much of it in the moment.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) She is soft, all around. She isn't very loud. In fact, she just likes being able to whisper in your ear: "Is...is this good?"

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) She may be a soft dom, but she doesn't mind letting you dom every now and then!

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) (I might post a pic on the twitter sometime because I suck at explaining lmaooo) She is well trimmed, and has quite a bit of muscle definition. She doesn't have any piercings or anything like that.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) She has the average sex drive, she's not constantly horny like some people *glares at Friend*

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Diane is pretty quick to fall asleep afterwards, as long as she gets to hold you. <3

[cleverhideoutkitten]

Today to give you an inventory of the classic 2024 big brands which are worth getting into the pit of the bag, are the value of the models we can rest assured into! 1: LV DIANE baguette bag Very practical bag Capacity and can crossbody can shoulder hand carry, and long shoulder strap pattern in fact on the body is very bright will not be difficult to match, shoulder strap are removable, Iv leather is very resistant to manufacturing with not worry! 2: LV Cannes Bucket of Fortune The round barrel shape plus two kinds of colourful old flowers and cowhide binding edge, design and material are very unique. The face value is very high is the concave modelling artifact. Removable shoulder strap, crossbody, shoulder can be. The top has a handle, handheld is also very elegant, handle tied on a silk scarf to do embellishment, will be more stylish and elegant. 3: LV carry all LV carryall is too hot, simply can not buy ah there is no, at present this bag is still very difficult to buy, the design is practical and exquisite, and also not pick wear, commuting and shopping are very suitable. 4: Gucci Marmont chain shoulder bag This bag has a high degree of recognition, can meet the needs of different places, and very versatile, is also a very representative one! 5: Gucci pony street buckle 1955 As one of GUCCI's popular bags, it has received a lot of love since its launch! This series of handheld shell bags and camera bags are worth buying! 6: Dior Tote The Dior Tote is a very practical bag with a simple, generous design style. The bag is made of high-quality materials that feel comfortable in your hand and has a large capacity, whether you're shopping, travelling or going to work. 7: Dior Montaigne Dior's Montaigne is a bag that combines style, elegance and practicality. Whether in design, material or detailing, it shows the exquisite craftsmanship and unique charm of the Dior brand. 8: Celine sheet music bag Good-looking and very delicate Very versatile Suitable for summer wear a small skirt are very beautiful, can be hand-carried can be cross-body can be shoulder back. Quite resistant to dirt sometimes dirty with wet wipes to wipe it! Capacity can be, can be loaded! Mobile phone air cushion lipstick key through can be loaded! #GUCCI #Dior #louie vuitton #CHANEL #luxurybag #bag #dhgate #Lemon8 #lemon8partner #Lemon8Diary

[usermoreid]

what would the unsub maeve story line be like? talk about it!

god im so happy you asked me this. it got so long so it's under a cut but im akfhdh i love unsub maeve arc

okay so she reaches out to spencer because she's been looking for a way to get to the team for a while now, and spencer posting to forums about his migraines was the perfect opportunity. she starts slow - introduces herself as a geneticist, asks to see the brain scans. spencer's so desperate for help he doesn't even ask for credentials, he just sends them to her. what's the worst that can happen, right??

she says she has some ideas, but she needs to talk to him; she needs to get a feel for what sort of lifestyle he's living so that she can figure out the best way to work with it. spencer's immediately overjoyed - someone has an idea of how to help him?? wonderful!! exactly what he needed!! so they start writing letters. she asks about any trauma he's been through in the past. he thinks it's to see if there could be any psychological or physical underlying issues. it's actually so that she can use it against him if need be.

talking about these things just feels so good to him - he's never been able to be so open with someone. but it's for medical purposes, he reasons, meaning that it's not like he's actually talking about it. and then they start talking on the phone. she suggests some vitamins - things she knows won't actually help him with his migraines but also won't hurt. during these phone calls, he pretty much starts using her as a therapist of sorts. and then he learns that she really is incredibly smart and wow she's so funny and oh my god she let's him ramble on and on to his heart's content and oh she's literally perfect.

his headaches become a little less severe. he pins it on the vitamins and the changes in diet and the exercises that she has him doing. he's not necessarily wrong, it is making him healthier. but it's actually due to the decrease in stress. he's not bottling up his emotions anymore. it took a little bit of time but he reaches a point where if he has a difficult case, he picks up the phone and calls maeve, whose credentials he still never asked for because why would he ask for proof when he's literally evidence of her capability himself??

this goes on for a while. spencer partially does actually develop feelings for her, but he mostly just starts associating the lack of pain with her, along with the relief that comes with it. he doesn't realise. she does. it's going exactly to plan.

she tells him about her stalker; says that he's the reason they can't meet; says that it's far too dangerous to get spencer's team involved because i don't want to hurt you and spencer believes it all. why wouldn't he?? he certainly has no reason to believe that they actually can't meet because her plan isn't ready yet, or that the team can't get involved because they'll see beyond the veil that spencer's insecurities have casted and immediately spot the red flags. no, she has no reason to lie to him, why would he ever doubt her?? he loves her, she helps him. and she loves him too, she said so herself. she wouldn't lie to him.

and then one day she gets kidnapped. there's a voice saying zugzwang and she can't answer the phone and oh my god he's going to have to tell the team. so he does. he musters up all the courage he doesn't have and stumbles marches his way into hotch's office, trying to project an air of confidence that's greatly diminished by the overwhelming anxiety coming off of him in waves and he tells his boss everything, from their first meeting to their last conversation.

hotch is skeptical, spencer can tell, but they go through with it anyway. they treat it like a regular case. they think it's the ex-fiance and oh god why didn't she say she was engaged and then they think it's the guy's new girlfriend and they've found where they are, they've figured it out let's go get her!!

and when he gets there he's told to blindfold himself and he does and then he's strapped to a chair and he needs to see her and he finally does and—

i told you we were going to make blindfolds fun again, he hears.

she's standing alone. two bodies in the back - bobby and diane. she had to kill them. bobby was going to expose who she really is and why she really had to disappear from her academic circles and maeve couldn't have people finding out that she was forced to leave after stalking someone to the point of almost getting a restraining order, not after she fought so hard to keep it quiet. and diane - ugh, diane - who stole her boyfriend and wore her clothes without even knowing they were hers. they both had to go.

he stares in shock. he doesn't understand. he came here to save her why is she free why is she stood in front of two dead bodies why is he strapped down to a chair what's happening??

she tells him. she tells him that the bau ruined her life. she tells him that they killed her parents - her real parents, the ones that weren't related to her by blood but through love, the ones who took her in when she was a child who ran away from home. they were serial killers, sure, but they loved her and she loved them. but then the bau came along and ruined their big finale. they didn't get the chance to blow up the people they were meant to, so they blew themselves up. suicide, it technically was. maeve calls it murder. the bau murdered them.

she takes spencer's gun from his hip and fires a shot into the wall, knowing that the team would come running. spencer can't tell them not to, they wouldn't hear him in time. they pile in, seeing maeve holding a detonator in one hand and the gun in the other and they realise, only moments after spencer, that she's rigged the place to blow.

she makes them all put their weapons down and throw them over, as she holds the gun to spencer's head. once the weapons have been dealt with, she throws the one she's holding over with the others and waves the detonator higher, making sure everyone can see it. she tells them that her cells have been dying ever since she returned to her birth parents, never having told them where she was for months and they didn't care enough to ask, because that was the moment she decided she was going to kill herself. she said it happened to her parents too - spontaneous cell death, she called it.

then derek lunges forward. it has such a small chance of working, but it's either this or they all blow up. either way, there's a strong chance they won't make it out. may as well give anything a shot.

he gets the detonator out of her hand by some miraculous luck but before anybody has time to celebrate, she grabs a gun out of the pile and points it to her own head whilst derek's is next to it. if the bullet gets shot, it would kill them both.

it doesn't get shot. spencer's gun does. the one he hides in his ankle holster. the one he grabbed as hotch untied him during the chaos. the one he never told her about because it was such a subconscious act that he never even thought to mention it. he's grateful that he didn't, but not until later. no, right then he doesn't feel anything as his bullet rips through the skull of the woman he loves. or as the gun clatters noisily yet silently to the floor. or as his knees give in and he falls down, staring at the blood pooling from the face he'd never seen in person. she was as beautiful as he had thought. the most beautiful girl in the world. and he had killed her.

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Four: First Day

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read Previous chapters here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

Angel leads Scully out of Ricky’s office and back down the hall, pointing to various doors.

“Here are the customer bathrooms, we don’t use these. That’s the exit to the lobby, but we have our own door in the back. Through here is the floor.”

Angel makes no mention of the other, unmarked doors in the hall. She pushes the “Enter Here to be Dominated” door open and they walk into a large room with the floors and ceiling painted black. To the left, there's a long bar that covers nearly the entire wall with at least twenty stools butting up to it. Directly across from the bar on the right wall, there’s a small round stage with a gold pole erected in the center. A shallow counter, just wide enough to set a cup, runs along the entire perimeter of the stage with chairs neatly pushed in against it. A mental image of herself on the stage while men look on flashes in her mind and she shakes her head gently, forcing it away. Along the back wall are several small partitions; little rooms constructed out of dark red curtains that are currently pinned open to reveal a loveseat and table in each one. The rest of the room is filled with small black tables and chairs, and can probably seat upwards of 100 people. Angel leads Scully to the left, approaching the bar.

“Back here is the bar, obviously, and this is Queenie, our lead bartender. Queenie, this is Diane, Ricky just hired her,” Angel continues.

A tall Asian woman stands from behind the counter holding a case of Jack Daniels. She has wide, round eyes and a diamond-cut chin, her full lips painted dark red and her black hair tied into a high bun.

“Hey,” she replies, “is Diane your stage name? You’re getting soft, Angel,” she teases, casting Angel a flirtatious smile.

“Oh, no, we actually haven’t gotten that far yet,” Angel replies before turning to Scully, resting one elbow on the bar top. “So while you’re waitressing, you’ll talk to Queenie a lot. She can make any drink under the sun. Tip her out twenty percent of whatever you make.”

Scully nods and wishes she had something to write all this down. Between the new terminology and rules, she's already getting confused and is bound to make a mistake. Angel leads her to the other side of the room and climbs gingerly up onto the stage.

“This is the stage, duh, and this is the pole. We call him Paul, the pin to make it spin or stationary is down here,” she leans and points to a small pin at the base of the pole.

“Oh!” Scully exclaims, “I guess never realized the pole spins.”

“Common misconception,” Angel goes on, wrapping her knee and elbow around the pole and spinning a couple slow rotations as she speaks. “But that’s why you don’t want to put oil or anything slippery on your legs or arms. You need to be able to get a good grip, especially while the pole is spinning. We’ll talk more about that later, come up here.”

Scully baulks and looks around, but climbs onto a chair, then the drink rail before finally getting to the stage itself. The room looks even bigger from up here.

“So, just from a Bird's Eye view up here,” Angel continues, “those seats against the wall back there at the end of the bar we call the rock section. Dudes just grab a seat and order a soda and then nurse it all night. Never pay for dances, never come to the tip rail, nothin’. Just sit there like a damn rock. It can be a fun challenge when you’re waitressing to try to get them to buy more drinks, if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“Tip rail?” Scully asks, sensing that this will be something she has to do a lot.

“Right, these seats right here,” Angel points to the seats that are lined up along the perimeter of the stage, “are the tip rail. You have to sit here or be close to it in order to tip stage dances, hence the name. Something else you’ll hear is doing a mini-lap, which is just when you let a guy at the tip rail motorboat you or put his face in your ass or whatever. Usually you’d do that when they give you a really fat tip.”

“I thought Ricky said the men aren’t allowed to touch you?” Scully clarifies, subconsciously rounding her shoulders and crossing her arms protectively.

“Ah, important distinction. WE can touch THEM, but they can’t touch us. So like, I can rub my tits on a guy's face, but if he grabs them, he’s toast. There are some limits to that I’ll tell you about later, but you can’t give a good lap dance without touching so we definitely touch, it’s just always us who does it, not them.”

Scully is impressed by the degree to which Ricky seems to embrace the “women in control” model, but she’s curious to see whether it’s all talk.

“So that middle part with lots of small tables,” Angel is now pointing to the middle of the room, in front of the rock section, “that’s usually where the whales sit, like Mr. Keane. They’re too classy to sit at the rail but you can still see pretty good from there. And lastly, over there,” she now points to her right to the small curtained rooms, “those are the VIP rooms. We’ll talk more about those later too when we talk about the rules, but they’re basically where customers can take a girl for a private dance.”

Scully feels a pit in her stomach. No matter what rules they have in place, there is no way she can be safe behind a curtain with a man who is paying to access her body. Her distress is interrupted by music suddenly pouring from the speakers at an obscene volume, making them both jump. It cuts off as quickly as it started, and Angel turns to look at a small raised booth behind and to the right of the stage.

“What the fuck, Ben?!” she shouts, raising her arms in an angry gesture.

“Sorry, Angel, my bad!” A thin Asian man with a narrow face and a goatee waves down to them apologetically.

“That’s Ben, the DJ. He’s not usually so obnoxious,” Angel says to Scully, then turns and shouts up to Ben. “This is the new girl, Diane!”

“What the fuck kind of stage name is Diane?” He calls back down. “Also, hi, I’m Ben,” he adds, waving again. Scully smiles warmly and waves back.

“We haven’t picked her name yet!” Angel shouts back. “We really need to pick your name, girl, this is getting old fast,” she says to Scully.

“Um, this may be a strange question,” Scully starts, “but, is everyone who works here Asian?”

Angel looks off into space for a moment, lost in thought. “No, but everyone here right now is, huh?! That’s a weird coincidence. Anyway, Asian is a big group. Denny out front is Samoan, which is actually Pacific Islander. Queenie is Vietnamese, and Ben is Japanese. And Ricky is white as fuck,” she bursts into a fit of giggles at her own joke.

“And what about you?” Scully asks her.

Angel turns and starts to walk away from her, casting a coy glance over her shoulder. “I’m whoever you want me to be, Baby,” she says with a flirty lilt in her voice, before adding “come on, I’ll show you the back.”

“The back,” accessible by a door just behind the stage, is a long hallway with restrooms, a staff locker room, a break room with a kitchen, and a dressing room for the dancers.

“So, I’m gonna show you the dancer’s room now, just so you have an idea what you’re working towards, but just FYI that they really don’t let the waitresses come back here. After this I’d keep your ass out if you don’t want to get torn a new one,” Angel advises her.

The dancer’s room is modest in size with mirrored stations set up along two walls and a small bank of four more in the middle of the room. Each station is slightly different, but most have a makeup kit, hair products, and a box that locks with a code to store cash tips. Three of the stations sit empty. Along the back wall are four doors, and along the left wall is a double-height clothes rack full of straps, sequins, lace, and mesh of all colors. While the floor had smelled like cleaner on top of stale beer and sweat, the dancer’s room is sweet and perfumed with hints of vanilla and cinnamon.

“What’s through those doors?” Scully asks casually.

“The second one on the left will take you outside, that’s the one we can use to come and go without having to go by the customers,” Angel answers. “There’s another one of those at the end of the hall out there you can use while you’re waitressing. The door on the far right is a single stall bathroom. The other ones are storage or something, I don’t know. They’re locked.”

Scully gives no reaction to this information but makes a mental note of it for later. After they look at the general staff locker room and the kitchen, Angel plops down at a table near the fridge and Scully follows suit, taking the seat across from her.

“So, before we go grab lunch, let’s figure out your stage name so we can introduce you to people properly,” Angel begins. “There’s kind of a tradition here that your stage name starts with the same first letter as your real name. I don’t know why, and people will say it’s not a ‘rule’ per se, but if you don’t do it it will probably seem weird.”

“What’s your real name, if that’s okay to ask?” Scully inquires nervously. Not having real names will make this whole investigation a lot harder.

“Oh no, it’s fine. They aren’t a secret or anything, we just don’t like the customers to know our real names. My name is Ann. So Ann/Angel, both A’s. Queenie’s real name is Quyen. You can ask any of the girls and they’ll tell you their real name if you want. Except maybe Lexie, she’s a stuck up bitch. So I’ll just tell you now, her real name is Leanne.”

Scully laughs good-naturedly, though she has the passing thought that a lot of people may describe her as a stuck up bitch too.

“So, something that starts with a D, what suits your fancy?” Angel asks. Seeing the worried look on Scully’s face, she makes some suggestions. “You could go with a classic, like Diamond. Something a little more stereotypical like Destiny. Oh, what about Desiree, that’s really pretty, and it suits you.”

Scully considers it for a moment. Who she’d really like to be is Dana, on her way home from this insanity. Given that isn’t an available option, Desiree isn’t so bad.

“Yeah, I think I like that,” she says with a shy smile.

“Great, can I call you Desi?” Angel asks excitedly.

“Sure,” Scully responds, and then follows a very spirited Angel out into the afternoon sunlight in search of something to eat.

They end up at a little Mexican restaurant a short walk from the club. It’s the kind of hole in the wall place that only locals know exists, with tacky pink paint on the booths and dusty Cinco De Mayo flags criss-crossing the ceiling.

“So, Angel, how’d you end up working at Damsels?” Scully asks as she drags a tortilla chip through the watery salsa. She’s highly motivated to solve this case and get the hell out of here, so there’s no sense in wasting time.

“Oh, I just met Ricky through mutual friends and he told me about his club. I was a dancer at a total shithole before, so coming here was such a huge relief.” She stabs at the ice in her drink with a straw, breaking it up into smaller pieces.

“Are you working towards something else, or is there something else you’re hoping to do?” Scully asks next.

“I might ask you the same, Desi,” Angel returns with a slight cock of her head, and Scully realizes that was a rude question.

“Sorry, I guess I still have a lot to learn about the social nuances of this job.”

Angel shakes her head dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a question you get asked a lot as a dancer, as you’ll find out. Everyone thinks you’re just stopping here on the way to something better, something more legit. God forbid your life plan is to show your ass for cash, right? I mean, that is true for some of the girls; Tibet is getting her masters and Magenta has a day job as a therapist, but I honestly just like it.”

Scully is more careful with the wording on her next question. “What do you like about it?”

“Well,” Angel takes a bite of a chip and chews thoughtfully, “I grew up with really judgmental, uptight parents who basically made me feel like I was dirty and disgusting for existing, and for being female. I was always really ashamed of my body and when men looked at me, I thought I was doing something wrong to bring it on myself. After I moved out, my friend took me to a strip club and I was totally blown away by the confidence the women had with their bodies. Men were looking at them, but not like they were gross and sinful, just like they were…beautiful. And they looked so powerful up there commanding all that attention. And I just wanted to be up there like that, celebrating my body and deciding what happened with and to it. And here I am.”

Scully sits quietly, absorbing an answer that she wasn’t expecting to hear. She thinks about her own upbringing and the “good girls don’t” mentality that tainted her early sexual exploration. Even as a fully grown adult in consensual, committed relationships, she couldn’t shake the underlying guilt that she was worldly and sinful for desiring and having sex outside of marriage. It bleeds over into her relationship with Mulder, she knows. She can accept any physical attention he bestows upon her, and in fact wants it desperately, but for her to initiate it would mean…something. Something she isn’t ready to admit, even to herself.

Angel speaks again, interrupting her thought. “What about you, Desi, what brings you here? I showed you mine, you show me yours…or whatever.”

“Oh,” Scully says, scrambling to bring her cover story forward. “Um, I, uh, I got divorced recently, or I’m legally separated, anyway. I just got my own place after living with my husband for seven years and I haven’t really worked that whole time, I just supported his work. So, I don’t really have any marketable skills.”

Angel smiles. “Shoot, that ass is a marketable skill, girl! Those titties are hella marketable.”

Scully blushes, unused to anyone talking about her that way, and is surprised by how flattered she feels by such a crass compliment. Their server arrives and sets their plates down, and Angel’s demeanor shifts a bit as they dig into their meal.

“Okay, so down to the nitty gritty. Like I said, there are rules for us as dancers, and for waitresses too. Ricky mentioned his feelings about heroin and meth, right?”

“Yep, that will not be an issue,” Scully says confidently, spearing a bell pepper with her fork.

“Good, so also don’t get, like, super drunk or super high while on shift. A little to take the edge off is okay, but a drunk stripper is just pathetic. Like I said, the men can’t touch us, but it’s okay for us to touch them, EXCEPT we do NOT do extras at Damsels. No hand jobs, no blow jobs, and definitely no fucking, not even in VIP. Not in their car outside, not behind the dumpster, it’s a very hard and fast rule, no pun intended. Ricky will fire even his best girl in a heartbeat if he finds out she’s doing extras. Oh, and no kissing.”

Continue Reading on AO3

[causewealwayshaveeachother]

CONFRONTING ALEX ABOUT HIS SECRET GIRLFRIEND?!?! 🤭😱🛑 LIVE! NOT CLICKBAIT

LAST VIDEO: We discovered Alex has been SNEAKING OUT to meet up with his SECRET GIRLFRIEND!!!!!

In today's exclusive livestream we confront him about the DECEPTION and BETRAYAL!!!!!!!! Going live at 12:30 PM today!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Mercer Family is one of many multi-million-subscriber family youtube channels on YouTube. It documents the lives of Diane and Charles, and their two children, Alex and Annabelle. They definitely don't have a third child who got a restraining order as soon as they went off to college, and while we're here, their son is also definitely 100% straight.

finally living up to the level of stupid to be expected from "it came to me in a dream" (not a joke; it did)

teaser trailer for an au that may end up just being a pile of plot summary but isn't that what aus are all about anyway?

ao3 tags: family youtube channel au, Crack, i think, it's legally crack if it's a ridiculous premise played straight right, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Panic Attacks, Gay Alex Mercer (Julie and The Phantoms), Coming Out, Bad Parenting

wordcount: 1109

Head-on shot centering a blonde boy in his teens lounging on a chair. He is looking to the side, head propped up on his fist, and seems bored and irritated. One of his arms is draped over the back of the chair, and his fingers fidget against each other. He is wearing a black snapback, zip-convert pants, a pink sweatshirt and a ripped jean jacket. (ALEX MERCER)

A voice comes from off-camera. (DIANE MERCER, ALEX'S MOTHER)

DIANE MERCER (OVER-ACTED AND DRAMATIC)

Alex, do you know why we want to talk to you?

ALEX MERCER (FLAT TONE)

No.

DIANE MERCER (OVER-ACTED AND DRAMATIC)

Do you have anything you might want to share with us?

Alex rolls his eyes slightly.

ALEX MERCER (FLAT TONE)

No.

DIANE MERCER (OVER-ACTED AND DRAMATIC)

This is your last chance to just come clean!

ALEX MERCER (UNDER HIS BREATH)

Okay.

Alex turns his head to look directly at the camera.

ALEX MERCER (FLAT TONE)

I'm gay.

Alex stands up and books it out of the room. A gasp comes from behind the camera and the feed abruptly cuts off.

--

Alex walked swiftly down the rain-slick sidewalk towards the studio, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Raindrops fell lightly around him, dampening his shoulders and hat. His breath came quickly, and his hands shook, and his feet fell heavy against the ground. He tried to time his breathing to his footsteps, focus on the steady one-two-one-two-one-two and block out anything else. The studio was a 20 minute walk away. He had been walking for five minutes. The studio was 15 minutes away.

Alex being gay wasn't news to his parents. It wasn't even, particularly, a problem to them, on a moral level. He was welcome to run around kissing whatever guys he wanted, so long as it never made it back to anyone who reported on the goings-ons of the members of the Mercer Family Youtube Channel. Because having a gay son wasn't nearly as marketable to Family Youtube audiences as having a rebellious, straight, fuckboy son.

Alex stuck his free hand in his pocket, clenching the other harder around the duffel strap, and walked faster, trying to force the panic attack he could feel approaching down through the slap of his feet against the concrete.

The studio was 12 minutes away.

Alex could feel his jaw clenching, his brow furrowing, with anger. Because what the fuck right did his parents have to exploit him and his siblings, make them spend hours acting out "caught on camera!" clickbait videos until it looked just the right balance of perfect and unplanned, make up secret fake girlfriends and set up elaborate photoshoots and then fucking- try and make him pretend to admit to having a secret fake girlfriend who doesn't exist! Who they made up for him! On live camera, for "authenticity" like the fact that they're doing it live is gonna hide how fucking staged the whole goddamn thing blatantly is.

Running around the house with cameras all day filming him and his little sister just trying to live their goddamn lives, making them pretend to break rules so they could pretend to get in trouble so they could pretend to be being punished so they could post it on youtube. Who even knew what would happen if they actually broke the rules. It'd probably still end up on youtube, they'd just have to spend 6 fucking hours reenacting any part they managed to do out of view of one of the billion cameras they've got filming every goddamn room of the house.

Alex blew through the doors of the studio, past the chairs under the loft where Bobby and Reggie were tuning their instruments, past the couch where Luke was looking up at him from the song book, directly into the bathroom. He slammed the door, locked it, and sank down against it, directly into a panic attack.

--

Bobby and Reggie exchanged glances, putting their guitars down and crossing to sit with Luke on the couch. "What do you think happened?" Bobby asked, lowering his voice like Alex might hear them through his panic attack. Reggie hated this part of being friends with Alex - knowing he was just a wall away, hurting, but not able to help - knowing if he tried he'd only make it worse. Having to just wait it out and hug him after.

"Didn't his parents want him to do some youtube thing today? He said he'd be like an hour late." Luke glanced at the bathroom, then his gaze jittered over to the clock as his face twisted with concern. "It's been, like, 10 minutes." His knee shook up and down and his fingers tapped at his biceps. Reggie leaned his shoulder against Luke's, and on his other side he saw Bobby casually folding his legs pulling his legs up onto the couch and crossing them crossing his legs so his knee pressed into the side of Luke's thigh.

"It was a livestream," Reggie piped up. Now he remembered - Alex's parents wanted to do a livestream for "authenticity". Alex hadn't said what for, he didn't think. "Maybe he got- like, a surprising question he didn't know how to answer...?"

"Yeah, I mean, a livestream's gotta be pretty stressful," Bobby agreed. He leaned forward to look at Reggie. "Do you remember if he said what it was about?"

Reggie shook his head. "He just said it was a livestream thing." Alex had mentioned it casually as practice was ending a few days ago - "I'm gonna be like an hour late on Saturday, by the way. My parents want me to do a youtube thing? A livestream or something. More authentic if it's in the middle of the day I guess." Luke had given him a little light-hearted shit about skipping practice to be a hotshot youtube star, and Alex had snapped back lightheartedly enough. It hadn't seemed like Alex was expecting it to be a big deal, but then again, it never did, did it?

The three boys sat on the couch for another twenty minutes before they heard the toilet flush and the sink running in the bathroom. Then, Alex emerged. Shaky and pale, damp strands of hair hanging around his face, but brow set in determination. "Hey, bud," Luke began, probably about to attempt delicacy in asking what the fuck happened, but Alex spoke over him, staring fixedly at the Sunset Curve banner hanging across the room.

"I'm gonna sue my parents for emancipation. Because fuck this." He turned to them, a hysterical grin starting to pull across his mouth, chest beginning to shake with laughter. "I just came out as gay on livestream. Fuck everything. Can an emancipated minor take custody of an eight-year-old?"

[absuuuurdstarkid]

My personal highlights of the Starkid Broadway Whodunit 4/10/20

Strap in this could be long...

Lauren’s character is pregnant and she has the biggest most fake looking bump I’ve ever seen

Joey is wearing a baby carrier even though the baby isn’t due for another MONTH

James is amazing and so convincingly nervous as has character, I think he was the only one who didn’t break the whole time

Jaime is playing herself and controlling her puppet (you know, the sweet one Nick made for her wedding) but the puppet keeps saying wildly inappropriate things - think Trekkie Monster from Avenue Q

Jaime’s character later murders the puppet, cause why not

Meredith looks BEAUFITUL and her character wants to be an actress so every time she’s asked a question she turns it into a really long monologue about her upcoming one woman show

Meredith’s character (who was called Denise, love it): “I taped my breasts together with duct tape earlier and I’m worried my nipples will fall off” *drinks wine* *Andrew breaks*

Joey and Lauren used their tgwdlm newsreader voices the whole time, and Lauren was just hanging off Joey’s shoulders

Walker was playing a like 20 year old and just kept saying Dope, Dope about everything

Corey’s character was obsessed with Lauren’s (and turns out was the father) and every time he appeared Lauren moved rooms and ditched him with an UGH

Joe’s character also had a TikTok and Joe did not sound sure than he knew what TikTok was

Everyone left Joe alone in the room and he looked so offended

Lauren disappeared to ‘go pee because of the baby’ about 6000 times

Jamie Burns’ wig was even more wild than Chorn

Brian: “Can sesame street go away please” “Vicki BEAT IT”

Joe: “YEAH I am a teenager, have you SEEN my TikTok???”

Everyone had their character’s names at the bottom of their screen but there was a glitch so every time they moved rooms Lauren and Joey’s just said laurenlopez

Corey’s character Danny appeared in a ‘disguise’ which was just some sunglasses he was also wearing earlier, everyone sees through it apart from Brian

Jamie’s character was an infomercial star and came up with a product called the Butt Clamp which would stop you needing to use the toilet - everyone else kept calling it a butt plug and Jamie got increasingly angry the more this happened

Corey to Joe: “ThEy’Re GoiNG tO caNCeL YoU oN tHE inTeRNeT”

Joe’s character gets shot and dies, Lauren “He died of old age?!!!”, Brian “He looks like he has a butt clamp in” *everyone accuses Vicky of murder by butt clamp*

Andrew “I’m gonna call a private investigator”, Brian “Why don’t you call 911?”, Andrew “No!”

Andrew on the phone “please come figure out what happened”, Joey “finger who?!” *Lauren and Mere break*

Lauren “Ya butt clamp’s defective Vicky” “Yeah cause your not meant to use it on your vagina!” *Lauren, Brian and Robert all hide off camera they’re laughing so much*

The Investigator arrives aka Joe with a drawn on moustache, Jaime immediately “Is that sharpie on your face?”

WHAT THE FUCK DID THAT PUPPET JUST SAY?!!

Joe says some lines as the investigator so everyone can keep up with the plot, Brian “Are you reading this off of something?” “NO! what kind of question is this?!” “well your talking very robotically” “Yeah does feel like it was written” “Are you done?”

Joe “I’m going to introduce myself now, my name is...investigator ..moo-stache” everyone breaks, Joe can’t get through the line

Jaime “Are you sure sure your name isn’t investigator Sharpay?” *Andrew is so gone he gives up trying to hide his laughing, Lauren and Meredith fall out of frame*

Brian makes a suggestion, Joe “are you the investigator here or am I? SHUT UP”

Joe gets some words wrong and corrects himself, Lauren “See this makes be think you’re reading it off somewhere” “Yeah stick to the script”

Jamie Burns “Put a but clamp on your mouth and shut the hell up Mr Moustache” Joe in an incredulous voice “What did you just say to me? put an ass clamp on my mouth?!” “A BUTT CLAMP” *more people have broken than are still in character* Joe “I’ll have to come back to that one”

Lauren “Can you at least make eye contact when you’re talking to us, you’re looking at your shoes”, Brian “Listen, put whatever you’re reading more up by your camera and then It’ll look more like you’re not reading it” *everyone breaks, Andrew, Joey, Lo, Mere, James are all on the floor* Joe “I am remembering it, I have to look at my shoes to remember!”

*everyone heckles Joe, looks like he’s about to explode/have a breakdown*

Joe is now reading it higher and desperately trying to keep looking at the camera

Jamie “You’re a hack... I could figure out this whole investigation with my eyes closed and my butt clamped” *mass breaking*

Andrew announces that all the butt clamps in the world have been sold in an attempt to end this joke. It does not work.

*Inspector asks who people thing the murderer is* Meredith “Well let me look at... my thoughts that I’ve been writing down”

Joe uses the sharpie he drew his moustache on with to pretend to take notes

Andrew’s character “Can I tell you the truth”, Joe “You actually are compelled by law to to tell me the truth yes”

Brian to Joe “We have a lot in common actually, I mean...I went to the Apocalyptour too” (The poster is behind Joe on the wall) Joe, desperately trying not to break “my daughter dragged me”

“He’s not the murderer, he’s just stalking the fuckin butt plug lady”

Joe “I’ve just... got to check the notes on my shoes”

Joey desperately wants to name the baby after the murdered puppet

Lauren accuses Mere’s character of being pregnant, Meredith “Am I PREGNANT?! Is that why my breasts look so good?!”

Brian “Is that like an air drop? DID YOU AIR DROP A BABY IN HER?!” *Andrew corpses*

Corey tries another disguise, but he’s just wearing a baseball cap backwards

Turns out Joey’s character had been fucking the puppet “The thing is it’s got a big hole in its ass” *Lauren and Joey both start laughing*

Jaime “I’ve only killed one non human thing today” Joe “You killed a puppet made out of menstrual blood”

Lauren can’t remember her character’s surname and she and Joe break

*Brian tries to show something on an ipad* “I don’t know if you can see that” Joe “Yes, yes, the camera is auto adjusting the white balance I can see it perfectly” *Lauren hides laughing behind her hands*

There’s a TWIST that Robert isn’t French and called Luis (loo-E), he’s actually called Lewis but everyone had been called him Lewis all night anyway so it didn’t really work but was funny and Meredith felt so bad about it

Joe says the same thing twice and everyone accuses him of reading again “I’M THINKING, I HAVE TO LOOK AT MY SHOE WHEN I THINK AND REMEBER”

There’s a beautifully photoshopped ‘evidence picture’ of Joey and the puppet

Meredith is convinced Brian is the murderer, decides to strangle him

The proof that Brian isn’t the murderer is that in a video he doesn’t know how to use a gun

Robert accuses Lauren’s baby of being the murderer, Joey and Lauren are busy kissing Diane

Joe’s explaining the final plot points and pauses to find the next bit of paper to read “Sorry, one sec, I’m REMEMBERING” *everyone breaks* “LOOK AT YOUR SHOE!”

FINAL PLOT TWIST turns out Joe’s investigator was really the long lost triplet Gaston to the murdered Ashton and Sebastian THE END

Joe “You might think that because I was a triplet this moustache is fake, BUT IT’S NOT, IT’S REAL”

They all take their wigs off, Joe out of character sums it up: “I truly did not know what was going on”

[elves-n-angels]

How Sebastian Stan Went From Winter Soldier to 'Winter Swoldier'

To keep up with the Chrises, Stan upgraded his diet, training, and worldview. And 2020 is shaping up to be his best year ever.

BY LAUREN LARSON 

DEC 19, 2019

THE COFFEE-SHOP staff is having a silent meltdown. The peppermint tea I ordered was forgotten as soon as Sebastian Stan walked in. He orders a coffee, receives it instantly, and goes to put it down on a table. The lid isn’t fully on, and the coffee spills. It’s almost a “stars are just like us” moment, but then a barista suddenly materializes with a paper towel in his outstretched palm. “It’s wet,” he says eagerly.

Stan, 37, is wearing black shorts, a black T-shirt, midcalf black socks, and a gray hoodie missing its drawstring. He looks very off-duty SoHo, which he is: He’s back home in New York City on furlough from preparations for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, an extravagant collaboration between Marvel and newborn streaming service Disney+.

He’s also wearing a blue baseball cap, which sits slightly higher on his head than it might on the head of someone with less va-va-voom hair. That hair sent the Internet into a tizzy recently, when a poster for Falcon showed Stan with a short cut. In the past when Stan has played the Winter Soldier (né Bucky Barnes), he’s had shoulder-length hair. Next to his forehead, which is giant—the White Cliffs of Dover of foreheads—the longer style made him look very sinister.

Stan is somewhat less recognizable in street clothes, but women still side-eye him on their way to the bathroom. Maybe they recognize him; maybe he’s just a little too strapping not to be famous.

As Stan talks, he maintains an unsettling deadpan, verging on a glower. “People always ask me if I’m okay,” he says, still glowering. “They’ve said I have ‘serial-killer resting face.’ No matter what I do, I’ve always had dark circles under my eyes that never really go away. Lately there might be a little moisturizer happening here and there, just in case. Preserving a couple years, or whatever.”

The more reserved the actor, the more likely he is to become part of Hollywood mythology. Between Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) and Captain America: Civil War (2016), a rumor circulated that he had gotten too ripped for the arm he’d worn in the earlier film, a wraparound contraption meant to look like a machine prosthetic. Redditors called him “the Winter Swoldier” and “Bulky Barnes.”

Stan laughs when I bring it up and clarifies that he used a new-and-improved arm in each successive film. With the first iteration, he had to apply lube to slide his real arm into what was essentially two rigid metal tubes. “It was like having a massive hammer attached to me,” he says, “but it looked unbelievable in the movie, and it actually informed a lot of my body language.”

Subsequent arms were more mobile, and Stan doesn’t have to lube up to get in there anymore: There’s a sleeve inside the arm for his next appearance as the Winter Soldier. But, he concedes, he did get too big for the arm used in Civil War. “I was so insecure being around these massive fucking guys, so I started lifting really heavy and ate a lot. I remember I showed up, and I was a little bit bigger than I had been in The Winter Soldier. The arm was a bit tight,” he says. “I was losing circulation.”

Stan is not a new arrival in the Marvel universe: He made his superhero debut in 2011, with Captain America: The First Avenger. But recently he’s enjoyed a burgeoning late-term fandom as his roles (and arms) have ballooned. Beyond Marvel, he starred alongside Margot Robbie in 2017’s I, Tonya, as Tonya Harding’s jackass boyfriend. When we meet in October, he’s just returned from shooting the spy film 355 in London, with Jessica Chastain, Penélope Cruz, Lupita Nyong’o, and Diane Kruger. Another insecurity-inspiring roster.

With Stan’s constellation of anxieties—he says he’s “terribly self-aware, to the point of detriment”—he is uniquely suited to stardom in 2020. A decade ago, audiences wanted actors to be pillars of Hollywood hubris, strutting around in latex Marvel suits, muscly and impenetrable. We still want the muscles, but we also want stars to be genuine.

Marvel films can seem at odds with that national craving for authenticity. Steve Rogers, for example, becomes Captain America instantly, in the first ten minutes of The First Avenger: He goes into a machine and emerges fit, huge, and self-actualized. I ask Stan whether that narrative—man gets muscles and immediately earns the admiration and attraction of everyone in his midst—isn’t a dated, unrelatable picture of masculinity.

“When I was watching Steve Rogers,” Stan starts in, “I saw him question his identity, his alliances, the government. ‘Who am I? What is this? What made me come into this is very different than the role I am in now.’ I think it was very timely, in the sense that you could see that character evolve. Then he gives up his shield and is like, ‘I’m out. I’m going to do my own thing.’ He chooses his own life. It’s actually more relatable.”

There’s an obvious metaphor there: Stan is Captain America, and stardom—and the press tours, the scrutiny, and the training that come with it—is his government, always invading his carefully fortified sense of self. As a result, he can appear very reticent in public, offering only occasional glimpses of the unguarded Sebastian Stan. Audiences live for those moments.

Stan is the anti-celebrity in the year of the anti-celebrity.

And his ambient hostility toward questioning is offset by the behavior of his Falcon costar Anthony Mackie. When alone in interviews, Stan can seem deflective and bored, but he gets an enormous kick out of Mackie, who has jumped in to rescue many an interviewer left to writhe on the hook by Stan. He is the Sebastian Stan whisperer, midwife to a charm that can be difficult to coax out.

“When I’m trying hard to find the honest moment, he sort of unlocks me a little bit. We both laugh and we find a way to have a good time,” Stan says. When I tell him that I’m planning to mine Mackie for gossip, he laughs. “Here’s what he’s going to say: ‘He’s way too serious. It’s boring. He slows everything down. It’s always these questions and, like, the stare. Give this kid a Yoo-hoo! Somebody get him a chocolate milk. Good God, put a smile on his face!’ ”

Mackie is the enthusiastic extrovert to Stan’s pensive recluse. Even though I reach him on the phone at 9:00 p.m. after a long day of shooting in Savannah—“I’m already going to bed,” Mackie says in a N’awlins drawl that sounds sleepier than usual—he’s forthcoming about Stan. He describes his costar as a hermit, a chronic Irish-goodbye-er who doesn’t offer much of himself at first. “If the FBI ever needed to get anything out of him, they’d be in very big trouble,” Mackie says. “I don’t know what the male equivalent would be of ‘resting bitch face,’ but Sebastian has nailed that 100 percent.”

His first impression, which lingered for a long time, was that Stan was a very quiet, very reserved actor. They shook hands when they met, but it wasn’t a buddy-com bromance at first sight. It wasn’t until much later, when the two were on a press tour for The Winter Soldier, that they hit it off. Mackie hung out with Stan and a few of his closest friends, and they “unlocked” Stan for Mackie the same way Mackie now unlocks Stan on press tours.

Their chemistry also plays well on set. They share a dedication to their work, and they both come from classical acting backgrounds. (“He went to Juilliard,” Stan says of Mackie. “He can do anything.”) Beyond that, they’re opposites, reining in each other’s moods to a perfect, workable middle. “He calms me down when I’m ready to rage against the machine,” Mackie says. In turn, Mackie bullies Stan into having fun.

Case in point: When they were on a press tour in Beijing, they had one of those endless nights that make press tours seem glamorous. “It just went on and on and on,” Mackie recalls. “We had to do press the next morning, and he’s like, ‘I’m going to bed.’ I’m like, ‘Nope.’ I took his wallet and his cell phone so he couldn’t get into his hotel room. Then, by the time we got to the press, I was fine. He just looked like he’d gotten hit by a car.”

Hollywood has always relished actor partnerships—from Robert Redford and Paul Newman to Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson—but now more than ever, buddying up feels like an imperative. Pairs perform, especially on social media. In November, when Stan and Mackie took over Marvel Studios’ Instagram to announce that they’d begun filming Falcon, fans were as thirsty for their friendship as they were for the show. Their dynamic is the stuff of memes: “[I] want someone to look at me the way Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie look at each other,” one fan tweeted.

I know what that fan meant. When Stan does look at you without suspicion—when, perchance, he laughs at something you say—it’s like winning a battle.

WHEN IT COMES to fitness, Stan has also benefited from the influence of a charismatic spirit guide. He played soccer and basketball at his Rockland County, New York, high school, but he didn’t start running and going to the gym until he was in college at Rutgers University. And he didn’t get really into fitness until 2005, when he was cast in a film titled The Covenant, which Stan calls “really classic.”

Really classic, indeed: The Covenant also stars Chace Crawford, whom Stan would later join on Gossip Girl (another classic), and Taylor Kitsch. Stan plays one of five prep-school boys endowed with supernatural gifts and sick abs.

“I got a call,” Stan says. “And one of the producers said to me, ‘Look, you’re going to have to look like John Travolta in Staying Alive.’ He’s just glistening with muscles. It’s ridiculous. I was like, ‘Oh my God.’ I started to work out with a trainer, but it was my buddy

Taylor Kitsch who got me into it.” With the trainer and Kitsch as his gym shepherds, Stan began exercising in earnest.

Then, in 2013, ahead of The Winter Soldier, Stan teamed up with trainer Don Saladino, who’d also sculpted Ryan Reynolds, John Krasinski, and Liev Schreiber. That same year, Stan starred in a Broadway revival of William Inge’s Picnic, playing a character whose defining trait is his hotness.

“Inge was writing something very important about vanity and how people were perceived in terms of being quote-unquote good-looking, beautiful, or pretty,” Stan said in a Playbill interview in 2013. “In the play, there’s something shameful and dirty about it. Our obsession with beauty has not changed. When we see something that turns us on, we either appreciate it or judge it. It’s so primal. We still dismiss people if they’re pretty; we don’t care how they feel, because they should just be happy looking the way they do. That’s something we were trying to say with this production.” Stan is less philosophical about his Picnic bod these days. “I had to be basically shirtless every night, like eight shows a week,” he says. “I really zoned in on diet, and everything transformed.”

He prefers exercising on an empty stomach, so he generally starts his day with coffee—and a rice cake with some almond butter and honey if he’s feeling depleted. Today he was feeling very depleted, he says, so he had some scrambled eggs with Brussels sprouts and aioli. “I’m not going to tell you the place where I got that,” he adds, unprompted and wary, as though I might start dining there daily in a stalker vigil.

Stan is a proponent of “quality over quantity,” but that doesn’t mean he skimps on his workouts; he just knows that a 20-minute session that catapults his heart rate into the red zone is as effective as an hour of low-intensity bullshit. He runs (“I’m not going to tell you where”) when he’s feeling meditative.

In advance of the Falcon shoot, Stan started lifting weights every morning and knocking out stunt training for the fight scenes. He points out that filming an action movie is a workout in itself: You spend whole days running around and sweating in a heavy suit. “I mean, next to Evans and Hemsworth and all those guys, I feel like I’m 50 miles behind. I don’t think I can get to that size, to be honest,” he says. That aside, Stan feels, in his late 30s, better than ever. “My body right now is probably the best it’s ever been.”

THERE'S A PHOTO of Stan, age 15, on his Instagram. It’s a headshot from Stagedoor Manor, an acting camp that he attended while in high school. He’s recognizable from the brow up—he has the same broad forehead, the same voluminous hair. His arms look pale and soft, like overcooked linguine, and he’s staring down the camera with theater-kid intensity.

Stan lived in Romania until he was eight years old. Shortly after the Romanian revolution, he and his mother moved to Vienna and stayed there for four years before heading to New York in 1995. No, he says, he didn’t have a foreign exchange student’s social cachet in middle school. “Maybe if I was from France or something. But I am Eastern European. We left communism,” he says. “When I came here, I just wanted to be like everybody else.”

I ask Stan which of his mannerisms are typically Romanian. “You’re kind of putting me on the spot to define a whole nation—a guy who hasn’t been there for years,” he says. But he thinks for a second. “For me, based on my mother, the ‘Romanian temperament’ is perseverance—being able to handle more than you think you can. At 27, my mother was working two jobs in a foreign country where she barely spoke the language. There’s a sense of family and perseverance that’s deeply ingrained in the blood.”

Even for someone who has experienced a certain degree of stardom, Marvel fans can be a shock to one’s sense of family. Certain Marvel stars acquiesce to the attention on some level, greeting fans with a Chris Hemsworthian openness to scrutiny. Stan’s boundaries are reflexive and firm, as though his sense of self is always under attack. (Which, to be fair, it may well be: “He’s so reserved,” Mackie says, “but in this day and age that’s a very good quality.”)

Stan is more protective of his personal life than most actors. Celebrities often use social media to dispense calculated chunks of themselves in exchange for privacy. Stan occasionally opens up on Instagram: “Been working with this guy through years of self judgement and mental wars when it comes to fitness and LIFE,” he wrote of Saladino in a caption accompanying a gym selfie. But questions about the people in his orbit ping ineffectually against his poker face.

He attributes this to only-vaguely-alluded-to incidents in which his family and friends were subject to public attention. As a public figure, he has opted into that attention, he explains, but they haven’t. It upset him when they were the targets of scrutiny, particularly when that scrutiny came from his fans. Stan seems to be looking for earnestness in an industry that, on the whole, disdains earnestness. He “tries hard to find the honest moment,” as he himself puts it (much like how he saw a profound statement about “our obsession with beauty” in William Inge’s horny play).

In this, the Marvel universe is an improbably good fit for him. We speak the week after Martin Scorsese said Marvel films “are not cinema,” and Stan is as defensive of the films as he can be without disrespecting Scorsese, one of his heroes. “All I know is that all movies affect people,” he says. “I’ve certainly experienced firsthand many people who have been affected and helped by Marvel movies.”

Captain America fans lean earnest. People have told Stan that Bucky Barnes helped them cope with their PTSD. During Q&A sessions, he’s asked questions like “What would Bucky Barnes’s major be?” and “What happened to Bucky Barnes when he fell from the train?” Stan fields those questions without sarcasm or diversion.

“They think we are these people,” Stan says, again without condescension. He’s content to take questions about Bucky Barnes, especially if it distracts fans from asking questions about Sebastian Stan. “Now we’re much more obsessed with the personality rather than the actor. We take people and swallow them and digest them and chew them up, and then we spit them out the other side. Then we’re done,” he says. “We’ve done that with numerous celebrities—people. I’ve seen people have massive ups and downs and stuff. All I can do is just try to be as honest as I can. And do my job.”

Men's Health Magazine, December 19, 2019.

[xdelanceyshepard]

“won a national music talent search competition called NEXT LEVEL & signed with THE REAL as alternative rock singer. jaded and cynical from the overwhelming new attention as a newcomer into the world of celebrities. but willing to play the game to keep afloat.”   — penned by raven (EST & she/her)

tw: child neglect and homelessness

SUMMARY

[[ AMBER STEVENS WEST, SHE/HER, CIS FEMALE]] — don’t look now but i could swear i just saw the paparazzi chasing DELANCEY SHEPARD down the street! the THIRTY-TWO year old has been signed with ‘the real’ for the last 2 YEARS, so i guess you could say they’re a big deal. oh, you don’t believe me? the SOLO SINGER was over the tabloids a week ago where they were being praised for their DEDICATED, RESOURCEFUL, & INDEPENDENT nature, but don’t let that fool you, according to the people closest to them they’re also WITHDRAWN, INSECURE, & SKEPTICAL, but their fans like to just blame that on the fact they’re a/an LEO if you believe in all that. according to their wikipedia page this current l.a native was born in CINCINNATI, OH and a few secrets from their past tend to follow them to this day, like how RETRACTED. i’m sure they’d hate for that one to get out, so let’s keep it between us for now.

STATS

BASIC INFORMATION

name: Delancey Shepard

nicknames: Lancey, Dee-dee, and Daisy

pronouns: She/Her

gender: Cis Female

age: 32 years old 

d.o.b: August 22, 1989

p.o.b: Cincinnati, Ohio

astrological sign: Leo

orientation: Homosexual/Homoromantic (closeted)

occupation: Alternative Rock Singer & Songwriter

APPEARANCE 

faceclaim: Amber Stevens West

voiceclaim: Edith Johnson

height: 5'8 

weight: 151 lb

build: Slender

hair colour: Brown

eye colour: Brown

wardrobe style: Post-Grunge (spaghetti straps, flare jeans, baggy pants, sheer textures, chunky shoes, slip dresses, midriff-baring crop tops, lots of lace, oversized flannel shirts, leather jackets, & casual sneakers)

tattoos: None

piercings: Five on Each Ear 

defining features: She is a woman of Comanche, African-American, and Caucasian descent with light brown skin. She has straightened long brown hair, dark brown eyes, black-painted fingernails, a round nose, and a scar on the back of her neck from a knife. She usually wears glitter eye makeup during her live performances. 

HEALTH

physical ailments: None

mental ailments: Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (undiagnosed) & Anxiety (undiagnosed)

do they drink: No

do they smoke: No

recreational drugs: None

addictions: None

PERSONALITY

character inspiration: Diane Nguyen, Fiona Gallagher, & Jane Lane

positive traits: Dedicated, Responsible, Open-Minded, Resourceful, & Independent

negative traits: Withdrawn, Apathetic, Sardonic, Insecure, & Skeptical

likes: Grilled Cheese Sandwiches, Solitude, Spending Time on Rooftops, Late Night Drives through a Fast Food Drive-Thru, Long Road Trips, Sleeping, & Reality TV Shows

dislikes: Parties, Beaches, People with Big Egos, Her Manager, Her Agent, Smokers, Paparazzi, Country Music, & Horror Movies

ACTIVITIES & SKILLS

skills: Writing, Singing, Cooking, Babysitting, Multi-tasking, & Driving  

weaknesses: Choreography, Small Talk, & Applying Makeup

hidden talents: Drawing Skills

languages spoken: English 

BIOGRAPHY 

Delancey Shepard didn’t know what to expect her future to look like other than somewhere far away from her hometown. At a very young age, she was stuck in the difficult position as the oldest Shepard child. Because of her mom's frequent disappearing acts, Delancey was forced to be the family's caretaker, especially for her younger sister. She handled taking charge when necessary in her household to the best of her abilities as a child. As a result, Delancey quickly grew into a hardworking and quick-witted individual.

By the time Delancey reached her senior year of high school, she saved enough money on her own from part-time jobs and financial aid to be able to go attend a community college. However, the tensions with her mom became too challenging to bear. She had originally planned to major in Education but instead, she dropped out of school and moved out from her mom's house. 

After traveling throughout three West Coast states and quitting five jobs later, she found herself as a STARBUCKS barista in Chino, California at the age of 30 years old. She was practically living in her car and she hadn't heard from her family in years. But she kept pretending that everything was okay.

Then Delancey found out about a national music talent search competition called NEXT LEVEL from her friends. They all agreed to participate in the competition as a joke. She went along with it because she thought it wouldn't hurt to go. Maybe her pride would get wounded on national television, but she'd recover from that. Delancey never considered the possibility of pursuing a career in music or art. It was foolish dreaming. Not something stable and realistic enough for her to obtain. So, when she made it through the first two rounds of auditions, she felt the world she knew to begin to unravel right in front of her.  

 The winner of the competition is expected to be offered a contract with THE REAL. The only issue with this matter was that Delancey never expected to actually win the competition. She entered as a joke, but she started enjoying singing and letting her competitive side get to her with her rival contestants. For once, she didn't consider the outcome of it all. But should she really afford to second guess her prize? It wasn't her fault that she won the many hearts of America with her “Broken Bird” looks.

Delancey signed with THE REAL as an ALTERNATIVE ROCK artist after the competition and released her first album, CURIOSITY, in 2020. She just came back from her first tour and is expected to be working on her next album soon. She is feeling jaded about the lifestyle of the rich and famous already but she is willing to play along to keep the money coming in.

[scribbuluswrites]

The Introduction

Happy Friday! Because it felt so empty without posting, (and because I couldn’t help myself) here’s a prequel chapter to Faking It. In case anyone wondered how Kat and Happy even met...

Katarina teetered on her heels. She’d been talked into attending a wild party with her roommate, and she was doing her best to really let go tonight. Finals week had thoroughly kicked her ass, and now she was going to get at least a little reward. 

The place was packed with people. Women in shorts that left nothing to the imagination hurried around, handing out drinks and cleaning off tables. All of the men were wearing heavy leather vests. 

It wasn’t her scene, but she couldn’t deny how much she was fascinated by it, even if she was more than a little scared. She’d seen the flash of a few pistols, and almost every member had a knife attached to their belt. There were rumours about the MC, and from the looks of them, most of them were probably true. 

“Easy, darlin’.” One of the bikers caught her elbow, steadying her just before she bumped into someone carrying a tray. His blue eyes were shining, obviously enjoying how out of place she must look. 

“Thanks. The bartender is very generous,” she grinned, eyes landing on the Oakland patch on his vest. “I like your matching leather vests.” Kat followed him to a set of armchairs, perching on the arm of the one he flopped down in.

“Kuttes,” he corrected, taking a sip of his beer. “I’m Jax,” he introduced. “You new to the clubhouse?” Kat nodded, ducking her head. She hated that he could so obviously see through her. She hoped that playing over confident would help her blend in. 

“Yeah, that obvious?” Jax raised his eyebrow, still waiting for her name “Oh, Katarina,” she added with a quick shake of her head. 

“Little bit,” he said, looking her up and down. “What do you know about the Sons?” At his appraisal, she tried to put on her most casual expression. 

“My roommate told me you’re a biker gang,” she replied, pointing to a girl with fire engine red hair. She was underneath a guy with a mohawk, letting him practically dry hump her on the couch. 

“We’re just motorcycle enthusiasts. She looks like she’s got her piece for tonight,” he grinned, taking another drink. He grabbed a beer off a passing tray, putting it in Kat’s empty hands. “What about you, Katarina? Anyone caught your eye?” Kat had already seen the gold wedding band on his hand, and turned her attention to the rest of the guys. Pretending to be a man eater was her safest tactic, and she did her best to seek out the biggest, baddest biker in the group. 

There was an older man with long silver hair playing pool with a wiry guy with curly black hair. On the other side of the building, a heavy set man was getting his neck aggressively gnawed on by two girls already down to their bras. 

“The girls are pretty aggressive here,” she commented, taking a long drink of the beer. Very public displays weren’t common for her group of friends. 

“Crow Eaters go after what they want,” Jax shrugged, watching her continue to take inventory of everyone. Kat’s eyes stopped on someone across the room. There was a girl sitting on his lap already, but he was paying more attention to his card game. “Oh no, Happy’s not for beginners.” Bingo. 

“Happy?” Katarina repeated, not looking away. “What makes you think I’m a beginner?” she added, turning to look at him when he chuckled. 

“Hap doesn’t do innocent. Trust me, doll. You’d have better luck with Opie,” Jax told her, gesturing to someone else wearing an Oakland patch. 

“I’m not a Crow Eater, but I know how to get what I want, too.” Happy caught her glance, his dark eyes hard. Katarina gave him a small grin, putting her hand on Jax’s knee. She had no idea what she was doing, but it seemed to be working. Happy’s face darkened just enough to let her know he didn’t like the attention she was giving his brother. 

“So you really want to play with fire,” he laughed, letting her use him. Jax held out his arm, showing off his reaper tattoo. “Hap’s real proud of his tattoos, definitely want to out do me,” he winked, taking her hand and tracing her fingers over the scythe. 

“Much obliged,” she smiled, letting him kiss her hand before he got up. Kat started to slide into the chair, stopping when someone else dropped into it. 

“It’s not very nice to stare at me while you’re feeling up the mother charter’s golden boy.” Katarina found herself face to face with Happy. His deep, raspy voice fit his threatening exterior perfectly. 

“About as nice as staring back with someone already in your lap,” she replied, stifling a gasp when he pulled her off the arm of the chair. Kat knew her face was bright red, but she was still going to act braver than she felt. 

“Are you jealous, little girl?” he asked, moving his hands to the arms of the chair. If she wanted to get up, he was going to let her. Kat settled herself a little more comfortably on his lap. 

“I’ll admit it if you do.” Happy smirked, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. Kat traced over the patches on his kutte. “So you’re one club, different groups?” 

“Charters. Nomads are a little more loosely affiliated,” he explained. Katarina nodded, sensing he wasn’t normally chatty. 

“Why do they call you Happy?” she asked playfully, her fingers still running over his kutte. Just because he had a knife strapped to his thigh didn’t mean he was immune to her girlish charms. 

Happy shifted her to the side, pulling up the hem of his shirt. His tan skin was covered in smiley face tattoos. He took her hand, moving it from the front of his kutte down to the cluster of tattoos. She ran her fingers over the ink, letting them slip lower over the deep V of his Adonis belt. 

“I’m Katarina. No tattoos for it,” she shrugged, clearly distracted as her fingers continued to explore. 

“Katarina,” he echoed, gaze moving across her face as she looked down. “I like it.” Kat glanced up, catching the way he was watching her. The look in his eyes was hungry, predatory almost. 

Her instincts told her this was her make or break it moment. She could pull her hand back and continue her quiet life, or, she could grab his kutte and kiss him. 

“There’s more,” he commented, moving her hand to his belt buckle. Kat froze. She suddenly became aware of the Crow Eaters engaged in all sorts of sexual acts right out in the open. “Got stage fright?” he asked, chuckling darkly at the startled expression on her face. 

“I… what… here?” she spluttered, jumping off his lap. Kat wanted to shout at him for thinking she was that sort of girl, but she realized she had just been pretending to be that exact thing. She also realized how judgemental she was being. 

Katarina was still thinking of what to say when she noticed Happy was laughing at her. He stood up and put a hand on her shoulder. He had called her bluff. 

“Relax, girl. I’m just giving you shit.” Katarina sighed, feeling embarrassed. She didn’t want to be called out. More than that, she didn’t like being outed as a fake. 

“Awesome,” she mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck. She wished Diane wasn’t occupied because she wanted nothing more than to go home and hide. 

“For what it’s worth, you would have fooled any of the others. You gambled too big,” he replied, not really reassuring her. 

“That’s my real skill,” she said sarcastically. Kat took a deep breath, reminding herself that it wasn’t Happy’s fault. She didn’t belong here, no matter how much she wanted to. “I’m just gonna go outside for a bit. My roommate is around here somewhere,” she trailed off, noticing Diane had gone missing along with the biker on top of her earlier. 

“Who was she with?”

“Guy with a mohawk,” Kat answered, glancing around. 

“Juice. He’ll make sure she gets home. Do you need a ride?” Happy asked, tilting his head down to catch her eyes again. Kat shook her head. 

“No, I’ve got the keys.” Happy pulled out an old flip phone. “Are you really going to ask for my number?”

“Yeah, and I’m going to call it so you have mine. That way you can let me know you got home safely,” Happy explained, his tone allowing for no arguing. Kat told him her number, showing him the incoming call. 

“Scary biker with a heart of gold,” she quipped, her eyes going wide when Happy suddenly pulled her against his chest. 

“That's a secret, little girl,” he whispered, his mouth close enough to her ear to be heard over the music. Kat nodded, shocked when he kissed her cheek. “Don’t forget,” he reminded firmly, his gentle tone gone. 

Tags: @agirllovespasta @gemini0410 @scuzmunkie @woahitslucyylu @chibsytelford @ifoundmyhappythought @multiyfandomgirl40

[lindseyhoranstan]

Sky Blue v. Washington Spirit

Buckle your seatbelts, folks, cause we’re about to kickstart the NWSL fall series and it’s going to be a wild ride. I was hiking this morning during the game (15 miles, baby), but I haunted the CBS site until they put up the replay. 

I’ve got to say, this game was amazingly well matched. Both teams had pretty good accuracy and the possession wasn’t swayed super far in either direction. I think both teams showed a pretty good match, but Sky Blue created more opportunities and took better advantage of the opportunities they were given. 

Speaking of which, Onumanu’s goal in the 18′ was an absolute miracle. Everything set up perfectly and she ran it through and finished it like a total boss. On a completely unrelated note, Onumanu is absolutely gorgeous and she was so cool and collected during her halftime interview. She deserves way more credit than she gets. 

 I liked to hear our pal Lisa explain some of the shit storm with Utah during the half as well. 

And a moment of deep appreciation.... for this haircut. 

Never have I ever seen something that I loved so much as this haircut. Every time she touched the ball, I got distracted by that slanted lightning bolt thing down the side. 

Also, let’s have a moment of silent appreciation for two, *TWO*, female commentators. 

And they clearly know what the people want. Is it more universal access to Women’s sports on US tv? Is it prime time ESPN coverage of the NWSL? Is it equal pay for the women’s national team? Is it the news that women’s soccer will be the first offical “sport of the gays”? 

no. 

it’s a freaking playground. Well, we’ll take what we can get. 

Then we had this interesting little interaction that still has me scratching my head. Starting with an innocent pass from Sheridan to Lewandowski....

Who is then pushed around a bit by Meghan McCool. As someone rooting for Sky Blue, you may think this would irritate me, but I’ll allow it seeing as her last name is McCool. 

Then the world descends into chaos as Ashley Hatch joins the fun. Kailen Sheridan is on the ground, people are shouting, whistles are not blowing, and the commentators are going full nuts because they, like the rest of us, have no clue what’s going on. And Kailen Sheridan is on the ground!

And then a whistle breaks through the chaos to call a ........ off sides? 

huh?

what?

where? 

how? 

You know, I’m just going to forget this and move on to the rest of the game. 

Kailen Sheridan and her huge-haired glory is back on her feet and the world is going to be okay. 

And also Ashley Sanchez struggled big time with her heart rate monitor at 39′. She tried to put it on while walking, but eventually had to stop and still took a good 20 seconds to strap that thing back on. It’s okay honey, take your time. We all struggle with seemingly simple tasks sometimes. Your braided ponytail is cool enough to make up for it. 

And then Kailen Sheridan got wiped out, knowing that once she got up, she was going to have to defend a penalty kick. Here are two blurry screenshots of her getting taken out by Meghan McCool. (Okay, so the name thing only goes so far)

 Luckily, she was sitting up pretty quick, only to lose a penalty kick

BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER! Because who do we have to save the day but this dream team..... Mallory Diane Pugh and Margaret Melinda Purce. Mal literally JETS down the field in the 90′ and hits the post, but it doesn’t matter because mere seconds later, she fires this ball to Midge Purce who sends it in for the game-winner. 

And that sums up my recap of the game. My very gay gal of the match is a tie between Kailen Sheridan (who always wins simply because I’ve watched her since she played for Clemson) and a new winner, Midge Purce. 

Have a wonderful Labor Day Weekend, my dudes, dudettes, and non binary dude people. 

[letterboxd]

Horse Power.

The Nest’s writer-director Sean Durkin talks about creating atmosphere, watching films without judgment, and the best movies of 1986.

Downfalls in Hollywood movies tend to be chaotic, dramatic and a lot of fun along the way. From Citizen Kane to The Wolf of Wall Street, outsized ambitions are realized on screen in castles, exotic holidays, wild parties, sweeping us up in the extravagance of it all, before the inevitable crash. The Nest takes a slower, far more British view of ambition and its effects on family—or, as Charlie writes, “this movie is a reminder that people who call themselves entrepreneurs should instead be stay-at-home dads”.

The new film from writer-director Sean Durkin, the brain behind cult-survivor slow-burn Martha Marcy May Marlene, is less “strap in and enjoy the ride”, more “slow disintegration of all sense of sanity”—a tense psychological drama focused on the person who usually gets hurt the most: the wife. And that horse-lovin’ dream wife Allison, as played by Carrie Coon, is a character to behold (and the subject of many obsessive The Nest reviews on Letterboxd).

Just as Durkin takes time to carefully explore Martha’s vulnerability in his earlier film, in The Nest, he closes in on Allison, as she and their children adjust to 1980s life in an English manor, far from the comfort of Allison’s American home, while wheeler-dealer husband Rory (Jude Law) chases a new opportunity.

There are thematic similarities in both films; a case to be made that ambitious men wreak a comparable mental destruction on their families as cult leaders do on their followers, breaking them down with charm, persuasion, false promises. There’s also something about the juxtaposition of periods in the film—the fifteenth-century manor vs the ’80s bangers on the soundtrack—that adds to The Nest’s unnerving atmosphere (other parts of the soundtrack are composed by Arcade Fire’s Richard Reed Parry in his first film-score credit).

Keen to understand more about Durkin’s influences and memories, Jack Moulton put him through the Letterboxd Life in Film interrogation.

Carrie Coon as Allison O’Hara in ‘The Nest’.

The Nest feels like a very personal film. In what ways are the emotions of the premise personal to you? When I was making Southcliffe in 2012, I was back in England where I spent my childhood and I hadn’t been back in close to twenty years. It really struck me how London and New York felt very similar now but they didn’t when I was a kid. I thought maybe I wanted to make a film about a family that moves in that time and how a move can affect a family. As I wrote the script, I became a parent, so it became as much a reflection of modern adulthood as it did about my childhood in the ’80s. Although it’s a period piece, I wanted to make it feel very close to today to look at the celebrated values of the time and how those are still very relevant.

The mansion the family moves into is the titular ‘nest’, and the use of space and atmosphere contribute so much to the film’s subtext. What were you looking for when location scouting for the house? Was it an easy or difficult process? Yeah, it was difficult. It was like doing an open casting call. I had a very specific idea in my head but [my production designer] was able to put it into actual architectural terms so we were able to find a house that a successful commodities broker would live and commute from in Surrey. We needed something beyond that, but if you go too far, you get small castles. Once we located the right exterior, there were a bunch of [houses] that would’ve been great, but when we got inside, there were no open spaces. I wanted to have long hallways to be able to see through multiple rooms to create that isolation—the opposite of the cozy American house that they were living in before, to really highlight the good life they left behind.

Carrie Coon and Jude Law in ‘The Nest’.

We love the soundtrack; not just the choice of songs but the way that they’re mixed. Can you give us some insight into the song selection? When writing, I build a playlist that I write to. This one was a mix of personal memories from childhood—like Simply Red, which takes me back to falling asleep in the back of my dad’s car—so there’s a way into writing there on a sensory level, and then I build upon it with songs that I love from the time. I was listening to Richard Reed Parry’s Music for Heart and Breath album a lot and he ended up being the composer of the film, so his music was always part of the heart of the movie as I was writing it.

I would spend my drives to set with my assistant talking about music and he would turn me onto some stuff that would make it into the movie. It was a mix of a long-running preparation and things that I pick up in the moment then making that all work at the right level so it feels of the world. Like with The Cure, we actually played that off a tape cassette when Allison walks into the room.

Since your debut feature in 2011, you’ve had a prolific career in television and as a film producer; you’re a founding member of Borderline Films with fellow directors Antonio Campos and Josh Mond. Do you see yourself more as a producer who only occasionally directs films yourself? No, I don’t really consider myself a producer. I’ve produced movies for filmmakers and friends and I help people where I can. I’m not someone who’s out getting properties and thinking about how to put together a film, I’m only thinking about my own work as a writer and a director. Between finishing Southcliffe in 2013 and The Nest in 2018, I had a five-year gap where I was developing lots of projects one after the other—two features and a television show—that were both so close to [being greenlit] but something fell through, which was really bad luck.

What film made you want to become a filmmaker? The Goonies and Back to the Future were those movies as a kid that first made me want to make movies and tell stories, but the moment where I realized what filmmaking is was seeing The Shining. I saw it for the first time when I was eleven or twelve and a friend showed it to me because his older brother had the VHS. It was my first time understanding atmosphere and direction and I just had a sense that I could do it too. It was a really crucial moment, and I kept that thought to myself for a very long time.

Cinematographer Mátyás Erdély shoots Carrie Coon in Soho.

What’s your scariest film that is not technically horror? AKA, your area of expertise. Oh man, scariest? Something I’ve watched recently is The Vanishing and it’s probably one of the most unsettling films I’ve ever seen. It was incredible to rewatch it because I’d last seen it when I was in college—I watched everything back then—and I’d also seen the American remake, so when I watched it this time, I was trying to remember things [that were different] from the remake. I was like “he’s gonna get out, right?—oh no, that’s in the American version!” I find it an astonishing movie. There’s a real human element to the pain of the killer.

Let’s nerd out: what’s your top film of 1986, the year that The Nest is set? [Laughs] I’ve no idea what came out in 1986. Can I look up a list and I’ll tell you? Let’s see, films of 1986… This is fun! Alright, “popular films of 1986” I’m seeing: Blue Velvet, Short Circuit, Stand by Me, Platoon, The Color of Money, what else have we got here? River’s Edge… Pretty in Pink… Ferris Bueller’s Day Off—Ferris Bueller’s gotta be up there. Big Trouble in Little China! That’s it! I’m sure there’s other things, but from my quick search, I’d say Big Trouble in Little China. That was a movie that was always on in my house because it was one of my dad’s all-time favorites.

Which is Jude Law’s best performance? I love The Talented Mr. Ripley so much. I constantly rewatch that movie—it’s perfect. I also loved him in Vox Lux recently.

Sean Durkin and Jude Law on the set of ‘The Nest’.

What is the best film about marriage and why does it resonate with you? Shoot the Moon was really influential for me. I’d say it’s a bit more about divorce and family than it is about marriage but [it depends on] if you take the ending to mean that they’re going to stay together—I kind of do. You could say a separation is part of a marriage. I love that movie for how it finds light in humor. Albert Finney is struggling with his masculinity where, even though he’s the one who left, he still thinks he owns it all, and Diane Keaton is quite liberated by this scenario. It’s like their journey to find language again. I find it very beautiful.

Which film was your entry-point into international cinema? I’m trying to think back to what I would’ve seen, there certainly wasn’t a lot growing up. In college I really discovered Michael Haneke and Michelangelo Antonioni. L’Avventura made a huge impact on me. I think [because of the way] the mystery kind of dissolves and it’s about the journey, not the solution.

What film do you wish you’d made? I don’t. Filmmaking is personal and it’s so much an expression of perspective when done with care and love—though obviously, there’s stuff that’s just churned out. I never see something and say “I wish I made that”. One of the things I find hard is when people critique films and say they would’ve done this differently. I’ve become very sensitive to that over time because every choice you make as a filmmaker is so specific and thought out. I try to consume movies without knowing anything about them or making any kind of judgment. I just let them be what they are and wash over me.

Which newcomer director should we all keep our eyes on? I don’t think I’m looking out for new stuff necessarily. Once I get to see something, everyone else already knows about it. One person I would say is Dave Franco, who I just worked with on The Rental. I was an executive producer and I was a creative bounce-board for Dave through the process. It’s his first film and it’s astonishingly directed. We were getting dailies from the first week and we were like, “This is his first movie? This is insane!” I think he will do some exciting things.

Finally, what’s your favorite film of 2020 so far? I was absolutely blown away by Eliza Hittman’s film Never Rarely Sometimes Always. I miss having retrospectives at local theaters, which I’m always keyed into no matter the city I’m living in. I’ve started watching a lot of Criterion Channel and I watched a movie recently that’s taken over my brain: Variety, by Bette Gordon, from 1983. It’s set in New York City around Times Square, and it’s this incredible journey that this woman goes on that captured my mind.

Related content

Sean Durkin’s Life in Film list

Sean Durkin’s Sight & Sound Top 10

Clarissa’s list of films that burn slowly

Everything Carrie Coon watched during quarantine (and the best of that huge list)

Tracy Letts and Carrie Coon’s 24-Hour Movie Marathon

Follow Jack on Letterboxd

[screenfashions]

Kingsman: The Secret Service

Roxy Morton

1. Plaid Blazer and Jeans outfit - Brooks Brothers Brown Tartan Riding Jacket (buttons replaced), jeans, blue striped shirt with white collar, knee high brown riding boots

2. Pajamas - Turnbull and Asser, custom grey pajama top with thin dark red piping on collar and opening edge and dark red piping on pocket (right side facing) and matching pants, white slim fit t-shirt, black sports bra or tank top

Note: The pajamas were briefly available from Mr Porter.

3. Coverall - Turnbull and Asser custom grey with white pinstripe long sleeve coverall/jumpsuit with belt loops, tie waist, two chest pockets and hip pockets, white collared shirt, George Cleverley brown lace up boots, watch, and black poodle puppy

Note: I’ve been informed that this is called a “siren suit” and that one was briefly available from Mr. Porter in blue and grey.

4. Blue Lace Dress - Diane Von Furstenberg Zarita Lace Dress in navy blue, Casadei Blade Pumps (black with a gold metallic heel)

Note: The dress is easy to find but prices are all over the place. Make sure to sort lowest to highest price to find one you can afford. This dress was available in blue and black, so be sure you get the right color. The pumps go for several hundred dollars on the secondary market. There are also peep toe, ankle strap, and silver heel variations so double check you are getting the right ones.

5. Gray Blazer and Jumper - grey (wool?) blazer, grey jumper, white collared button down shirt

Note: jeans and boots are the same as outfit 1, shirt probably the same as outfit 3

6. Atmosphere Suit - black flight suit with three grey stripes on each sleeve and a big silver zipper and a Kingsman logo patch with ROXY on it, the helmet looks like it might be a motorcycle helmet

Note: probably custom made

7. Black Trench Coat (Promotional Images) - black trench coat with zipper

And that’s the last we see of her until Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Thank you to @sophiecooksonstyle for some of the ids!

[veroticker]

Someday, someday - Emma Scott

Summary (from Emma Scott’s website)

How long would you wait for love?

Max Kaufman was kicked out of his home as a teen and his life has been an uphill battle ever since. From addiction and living on the streets, to recovery and putting himself through nursing school, he’s spent the last ten years rebuilding his shattered sense of self. Now he’s taken a job as a private caretaker to Edward Marsh III, the president and CEO of one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world. Max soon learns Marsh’s multi-billion-dollar empire is a gold and diamond-encrusted web of secrets and lies.

The longer Max works and lives with the Marsh family, the tighter the secrets tangle around him. And his heart—that he’s worked so hard to protect—falls straight into the hands of the distant, cold, and beautiful son of a dynasty…

Silas Marsh is set to inherit the family fortune, but his father is determined his heir be the “perfect” son. Before Silas can take over the company and end its shady business practices, he must prove himself worthy…and deny his true nature.

Silas must choose: stand up to his father by being true to himself and his undeniable feelings for Max. Or pretend to be someone he is not in order to inherit everything. Even if it means sacrificing a chance at happiness and real love.

Blurb

““I let go.”

I blinked out of the memory and came back to the present, into a room in the community college, downtown Seattle, Washington. Not on that San Francisco street corner. Not in the car that smelled of smoke. Not in a body that smelled of that man when we were done. I was me again, and I was going to stay that way.

Twenty or so pairs of eyes were watching me. Some nodding.

“That was my rock bottom,” I said, leaning into the mic on the podium. “Or the beginning of it. It took a lot of hard work and the benevolence of a total stranger to help me crawl out of it and see my own worth.”

I glanced around at the faces in front of me that were waiting expectantly to hear the rest. My happily ever after. But I didn’t have one, and I was done talking for the night. Telling my story—putting myself back on that street corner—turned me inside out. I didn’t have it in me to keep going.

“But I don’t want to eat up all of the time. I’ll finish up next meeting.”

The group offered a smattering of applause, and then Diane, the Narcotics Anonymous coordinator, resumed the stage.

“Thank you, Max, for that honest and deeply personal share. And welcome to our group. We are so glad you’re here with us.” She addressed the group at large. “Max was a sponsor in San Francisco, prior to moving here. . .what? A few weeks ago? We’re so happy that he’s willing to sponsor someone here as well. Please let me or Max know if you’re interested.”

More scattered applause and some tired nods. I recognized that weariness in the people assembled here. That bone-tiredness that came with the fight. Addiction thrashed you like a dog with a rabbit in its teeth, sometimes retreating but never slinking away for good.

Before I resumed my seat in the front row, I caught sight of a guy all the way in the back. He slouched in his chair with his long, jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him. He wore sunglasses indoors and a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over his head. A lock of golden blond hair had escaped the hood and hung over his brow. His full lips were pressed together, arms crossed tightly over his broad chest. His clothes looked plain enough, but his shoes and the sunglasses—not to mention the watch strapped to one tanned wrist—screamed money.

Hot Unabomber, I thought with a smile.

“Are there any new members who would like to introduce themselves?” Diane asked.

I imagined I felt the stranger’s eyes boring into me. I suddenly itched to turn around and get a better look. No one responded, and I couldn’t help myself; I snuck a glance over my shoulder. The tall guy shifted uncomfortably, arms crossed over his chest like a brick wall, his face a stony mask behind the glasses.

You’re staring, I scolded myself. Stop staring. Jesus, dude, this isn’t a singles mixer.

I faced forward as another person volunteered to share. The squeak of a chair brought me around again, and I watched the guy get up on long legs and stride out the door.

I was sorry to see him go. He might come back. He might not. Sometimes the desire for help drowned a swift death in the face of shame, guilt, and the vulnerability in asking for it in the first place.”

(review under the cut)

Review

I’ve read my share of slash fanfictions, but Someday, someday was my first “serious” fiction about two men who love each other. And I couldn’t have found a better first time. It’s both sweet and well written, with very compelling characters.

Here we have two manly men--even though one of them is a nurse, which could be considered a feminine occupation--who struggle to express their feelings. One of them because he’s not sure the other swings this way. The other because it’s been ingrained in him to deny that kind of feeling.

Poor Silas. He’s got nothing: no love, no real family--except his autistic brother--and no hope; and barely the will to go on, at first. Until he meets with Max, who hasn’t got much more, but who at least is strong enough. Their relationship is beautiful, although full of angst.

Also, Emma Scott offers an interesting reflection about big pharmaceutical companies and accountability. She also writes about homelessness for young homosexuals, and what their life is when their family has kicked them out--drugs abuse and prostitution. A lot of heavy subjects for a “simple” romance, but that makes for a wonderful read.

At the end, everybody gets what they deserve, good or bad. So dive in, you’ll enjoy this book :)

Quickie

Series: standalone

Hashtags: #MM romance #billionaire #in the closet #first time #switching

Triggers: physical and emotional abuse, drug abuse, conversion therapy, prostitution, slurs (not your happy romance... at first)

Main couple: Max Kaufman & Silas Marsh

Hotness: 5/5

Romance: 5/5

+ the author acknowledges what homosexuals might be going through without fetishizing it and offers information for those who struggle with the problems she writes about at the end of the book

- what the characters have to go through may seem a bit too much (like all the odds are against them)

Stalker mode

You can suscribe to Emma Scott’s newsletter on her website.

You can also follow her on Facebook.

[rsfannan]

Day Ten: Part One. Passport Parte Deux

Well, it was really not surprising that we did not receive an email that someone had found Diane’s passport, so we embarked upon our journey to the U.S. Embassy. As it was not to far from The Louvre, we decided to take Jeannie to the world’s greatest art museum and let her explore the place by herself while we got an emergency passport for Diane.

We walked the 15 minutes along the Seine, deposited Jeanne at The Louvre, and then discussed our options. Sensing that it was worth a trip to the Gare Du Nord train station lost and found, we boarded a metro for this glimmer of a chance of saving some time and money. Alas, trips to the regular lost objects at both the regular station and at the Eurostar office proved fruitless. Merde!

On to the Embassy. When we got there, we were told that it was closed for lunch, and to come back at 1:00. Double Merde! So we took another metro ride back to The Louvre to find Jeannie. When we dropped her off in the morning, there were not very many people there. We had walked right in. This time the place was jammin’. The line to get in was unreal. In any event, we finally found her, and she had had a wonderful time on her own browsing about the masterpieces that her Nana (her grandmother and quite an artist herself) had told her about when she was growing up. Diane and I have been to The Louvre several times before, so missing it this time around was not a tragedy.

Jeannie in hand, we traveled back to the Embassy, getting there several minutes before 1:00. Not that we didn’t expect it, but there was now a line. We were about 15th or 20th. Big time security in place, we filled out some forms and waited, and waited for our number to be called, finally turning our forms in, then waiting in the payment line, and then waiting again for the passport itself to be handed to us. Many people there with the same issue. About two hours and $145 later, we were set, and ready to go to the Eiffel Tower, for our 4:00 scheduled entry.

We had thought that our tale was quite a disaster until the lady behind us in line told us hers. Get this for a horror story.

Doris, from Minnesota, and her friend Elaine has flown to Paris only that morning. Although Elaine had been to Paris before, this was Doris’ first trip to Europe. They were in a cab going from the airport to their hotel, when stopping for a stoplight, a motorcycle with two youths pulled up behind them. In what must have been a blink of an eye, one of the youths jumped off the cycle, smashed one of the back windows of the cab with a rock, and grabbed at Doris’ purse. She instinctively held on tight and the youth took out a knife, cut the strap to the purse and raced off. Doris had lost everything: ID, passport, money, credit cards. Thank god she was traveling with a friend or I don’t know what she would have done. She also has some minor cuts on her face from the broken glass. All in all, she had a pretty good attitude about the whole thing, but to have that happen to you on your first visit to Europe, much less on your first day.

We felt rather fortunate after hearing this. And we decided that we have to re-evaluate our clothing security systems.

[lilidhshoneynutfeelios]

time for a quick streamofthought i guess

so i got all my results back and i’m def getting into third year so thats good bc like, idk, i said that on a triangle of tranny, disowned, and drop out i could only handle two, so theres that. i didnt get any internships i applied for and idk what i should do i should spend more time in glasgow w finn at least, its good for my soul i think, im really excited to get a saas in and move out and just like, idk, i dont want to talk to my mother, shes made it v clear what she thinks of me and theres a lot of like, not-that-hard ways i could work to repair this relationship right now that i know about (esp on like, financial tension levels) but like, that doesnt mean that i want to forgive her? or that the way shes been treating me hasnt been like, traumatising, and im really trying hard rn for it not to be like a Trauma i think theres things i can do in as it happens so that like, idk it doesnt become a Big Trauma but idk its always going to be like ,a nerve at least yknow like being queer is like a lot of microtraumas sometimes for your entire life esp transness i think but like, i dont need to be told im a perv? i dont need to be like, examined like a piece of meat every time i stand up? i dont need her to drunkenly try to throw me out at 2am and her be talked down by her weirdo potstirring partner, i dont need her weirdo partner to physically threaten me. i dont need to overhear what she says about me. i dont need to forgive any of that. i dont need to have any relationship to her. ive already estranged my older (half) sister for how she acted. right. anyway. idk im excited to go hogwild w my studies and my SA stuff this year and just live for it. im gonna like try to manage my feral anxiety atm like i should go to the doc and be like hey i get panicky in weird episodes relating to trauma, instability, and road traffic accidents and i want some propranolol pls, but also like, i can take whatever like, downer-esque drugs im proffered but like, i still need something in the system so that i enjoy things so maybe i should like microdose acid or smthn like im not that fond of weed and like mandys not good for microdosing and im fecked to find a shroom guy in aberdeen its hard enough to find someone that sells acid anyway fucking coke city also i lost my passport and i cant buy booze or fags or go out and its killing me. anyway so home is shit maybe if i didnt go off saturn we couldve moved in together sooner but whatever i still need to get my exercise bike from them and also my fixie and im kinda out of shape rn but i had a wee episode and only ate peanut butter from the jar for a while but thats okay finn hasnt been online today and im worried they didnt make it to work but it’ll be okay i kinda want multiple of their friends to strap me but thats another matter entirely also i havent seen the poetry lesbian in a while and idk what my tiny gay heart is doing there idk i get like a lot of short intense crushes and thats fine but idk if its passing or just like, i havent seen her in a while also ive hooked up with my ex twice and also my mate and im kinda feral anyway i checked in on them when i got to aberdeen then someone else and i kinda have this idea that i could move in with them and help them w this Patch their in but its like,,,,probably not a good idea like they should live w someone but idk if that should be me. i need to go to sleep now so i get rest for this shift i picked up and then i gotta

transfer money

order bus tickets

arrange a blood test

get a copy of dianes p60 for the saas

maybe change my name on the uni system

apologise to onni bc they were stuck w me in a hostel for 2 days at the height of my manic episode and i didnt realise how annoying that could be and also i just wanna check how theyre doing in sweden now?

nap

[thesobouquetme]

didn’t allow us to worry about any of the wedding details!@ !~^*(jade green prom dress

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