channel7plan9

[livvyofthelake]

ok dune 2 post. obviously spoilers you know i don't give a shit. there is nothing i can say to you now that could possibly "ruin" your movie going experience should you decide to see dune 2. or maybe there is. i don't care though either you're reading my monster ass post or you're not. but i'm very nice and beautiful and kind so i added a read more <3 just keeping it really niceys <3

FIRST thing i want to say is that men are reacting to these movies in a way that is so diabolically insane to me i don't think i will ever be able to understand the underdeveloped male human brain. that was mean sorry. i hate men though and i think they're less intelligent than normal people. sorry. have you seen what men are saying about dune though. you understand. "it's the greatest triumph of cinema i've ever seen!" like calm down ryan it's dune part two.... we're not talking about the hunger games catching fire rn you can talk about the movie like a normal human being talks about things... yes it was good. it was also only the second best timothee chalamet film released in the past six months... and as i've said. the world at large will forget about dune like two years after the last movie, i'm sorry, but we will... we are not all male sci-fi fanatics peace and love

so what did EYE like about it! well i love zendaya <3 i love zendaya so much, not enough to watch spiderman, but a lot. i lovedd that she had a bigger role in part two (both me and my mom were sooo disappointed at how little she was in part one), and i especially loved how her role provided this point of contest to paul's messiah status, where his mother and stiglar are like, true believers, chani is the skeptic because she knows he's still only a man not a god, because she loves him as a man!!! it was crazy. also they were in crazy beautiful tragic love... (side note we can come back to this later if the need arises. their asses are GOING in the timeless video remake. spent a good ten minutes of the movie's runtime thinking about this fr) i really loved their relationship and their dynamic, idk anything about the books btw i want that out there as a disclaimer now. anyway i loved the drama of their whole thing it was craytown insane. the way he didn't want to go south and solidify his becoming as the people's messiah because he knew that if he became that he would lose her, and ultimately that's exactly what happened... "i will love you as long as i breathe" as his final words to her before enacting this plan to take over from the emperor by marrying the princess... ok that was insane. in many ways this happened to a friend of mine. by the name of. guinevere.... unless you're all here for my gay king arthur theory in which case. in many deeper ways this happened to my friend arthur. but i'm not supposed to talk about that because the people aren't ready. (i do genuinely and truly in my heart of hearts believe that king arthur is gay and i mean it in a way completely divorced from bbc merlin i didn't even want to bring up bbc merlin it makes me so mad how that show corrupted gay king arthur, i don't mean it like that. EYE mean that it's gay as fuck to be a man with an older brother. but we aren't talking about that). basically. kind of a tragedy slay... rooting for them in. deep sigh. movie three.

a thing i DID NOT like was the whole deal with. austin butler. i did not learn his character's name, don't care, he's dead anyway. it's not even that any of it was bad it was just boring. and there was that whole section on him too and i was like ugh this could have been a two minute scene wrap it UP! you may have noticed i was posting while in the theater. yeah i was posting from that section of the movie. because i was BORED. yes there was some vital info in that part, but i also believe it could have been explained in a significantly lesser amount of time!!! me in denis villieneuve's editing room screaming "cut it!!!!" it's boring... i'm sorry... i was bored and i don't care about the harkonnens (? i'm not looking that spelling up) and i don't care that that cult lady "secured his bloodline" by going to his birthday party and seducing him... i don't careeee about the harkonens!!!!

a thing i DID like was rebecca ferguson's deal. she was soooo. i mean she was terrible, of course, insane bitch for real. also i want her so bad but that's not relevant. loved her schemes. love it when a character starts playing god. and she got what she wanted in the end too! was that a good thing? unclear. but god forbid women do anything!

can i say something is this a safe space. i don't care about the worms the way a lot of people seem to care about the fuckin worms... they're cool i guess? but what is with the fascination with the sand worms... i don't get it. i'm gonna leave this point here cuz frankly what more is there to say

there seems to be a disconnect between two camps of people on timmy's actual messiah status in the narrative. i've seen people refer to the character as jesus and i've seen people call him a false prophet, and it all made me so confused i read the entire wikipedia entry for the original dune novel and the article for the larger dune chronicles. and i've come to the conclusion that yes he was literally the ultimate manifestation of powers the bene gesserit were trying to cultivate, and he did become a leader, but i wouldn't be so quick to call him jesus because he's only jesus because the bene gesserit wove their agenda into the religious legends and prophecies of the fremen people to be able to control them through it. so it was kind of all propaganda. but his abilities are very real and he DID want to help the fremen break free from harkonenn persecution. so i wouldn't call him a false prophet. i think the thing with the uh. "water of life" (it's worm piss. it's sand worm piss. it's gatorade blue, straight up fresh from the worm piss. i'm sorry) and he drank it and gave him visions of the future and he was like "i see it all so clearly now" and all that. i think that's real, he can see the futures and he knows he can play an important role and he wants to prevent war (flopped btw) and that's why he leaned into the messiah rhetoric, because it was easy i guess, and the people already believed it. i wouldn't call him evil or corrupt i'd just say he was trying to be realistic through the means he was raised (and remember that his mother raised him for war and power). um it's complicated. do i think there's a jesus metaphor? obviously there is. do i think he's really like. The Messiah? well no, because it's textually true that there was never REALLY a prophesized messiah, it was all just stories put into motion generations before he ever existed. that being said i wouldn't call it fake per se. lot's of interesting stuff is going on here with regards to religion to be honest. does it matter what's real? do we not each control our own perceived reality? does saying it's not real rob the believers of their choice? does it matter that the people were told to believe in him as a way to control them? does it matter that they made the beliefs their own anyway? what is religion? what is god? if i had more time on my hands i'd get deep into dune just to get into arguments online this summer about this shit.

i'd be interested to see how it all unfolds in a third movie, but as i understand that's not a confirmed thing that's happening and frankly i already read the wikipedia article about it so i guess i do already know how it unfolds. but i'll see the eventual movie anyway i guess.

the thing with the "atomics" was wild to me though i was like hey man i do not think a jesus figure would launch atom bombs... but to be fair i think they set those bombs on a mountain? and people were only killed via the rubble? that's obviously still bad i'm aware but i mean. well actually i don't know if that's what happened. the bombs only killed the bad guys though so who gives a shit. sorry. but those bald dudes were creepy i'm sorry they sucked so bad i don't care that a lot of them died in a war that they started. it's a movie. were they atomic bombs though? they called them "atomics" so i did assume they were fucking. oppenheimer atomic bombs. or is this such a distant future that they've advanced technology and undergone so many linguistic changes that words don't mean the same things anymore. i think however that i fully just overthought that. anyway whatever on the bombs i don't wanna talk about bombs

um getting back to my girl chani. "i will love you as long as i breathe" for real she should get to kill him a little bit for all of that shit i am not gonna lie to you. i was reading these wikipedia articles seeing the word "concubine" thinking to myself oh he should die. call me pontius pilate the way i am about to kill this fucking christ figure. i understand it narratively, i get it. i understand that he marries the princess for political reasons but he loves chani i understand that. but i am gonna tell you one thing right now and you need to hear this. cassandra would never pull something like that. and if you wanna talk to ME about an expansive fantasy universe totalling over a dozen books, you are gonna have to go through cassandra there. no one will ever be cassie, not to me, you'll never do the things cassie has done, i don't care who you are i don't care how influential to sci-fi dune is. if you're gonna come to me and be all oh dune was influential for sci-fi, i'm gonna come right back at you and say the shadowhunter chronicles was influential for urban fantasy. there is not a weird middle school girl out there who's life was not affected by cassandra clare. that woman is like a deity to me. i don't care about what men write, SHE is huge to ME. and she would never pull that shit. she would never, and she would rather die. peace and love. i hate men

and you know what let's all back it up for a moment. and when i said. timeless video. oh i meant that, as i said i spent ten minutes just straight up thinking about this comparison. my ultimate conclusion is that paul has the kit herondale swag (but if kit was written by a man. you understand). chani does not so much have ty blackthorn swag but she is kind of a cunt which was good enough for me tbh. the way that like. she was a fremen warrior above everything, even him, was very ty to me though, in the sense that he's a shadowhunter who like, IS a shadowhunter. we have shadowhunters like say, simon, who aren't so much suited to the shadowhunter way of life (because it is an entire way of life, it's not just being a human plus some magic, being a shadowhunter is a whole different class of existence completely unlike ours) but they're a shadowhunter because that's just the hand life dealt them. and then there are shadowhunters who are real, passionate, believing in the cause shadowhunters, and that's gonna be like. isabelle, cordelia, jace, emma. and ty. there are characters who, if they stopped being a shadowhunter they would survive, and there are characters who would not know a way to be without it. (sorry girl gonna interrupt you. this was a dune post? a post about the movie dune part two? um stop rambling about tsc...) ok. basically chani has that drive of caring so much about what she is (fremen) and what she can do. and i love how i gave that a whole paragraph explanation but with paul i just said "yeah he has that kit herondale swag nothin more to say" (sidenote. the audiobook i read the other day has been sticking with me to such an extent that. ok there was one character who i guess was meant to be from new jersey and the narrator was doing this crazy voice for him which was so fun and iconic i have been talking to myself in my head with that voice ever since for real and serious... i get a real kick out of it. and that last sentence pre parentheses was meant to be read in that voice so. imagine an exaggerated sort of goon-like jersey accent)(um just went to the little wiki page for this character to verify the new jersey thing. his dad's from jersey that's not important. under relationships. "they clearly have an abusive relationship" hey now... what fucking. lame fangirl wrote this... they were just homoerotically vibing in a toxic fucked up way... rolling eyes emoji. people didn't understand it...) anyway. um he does have the kit herondale swag. you know. in the simple sense that everybody is telling him he has this Destiny and he really didn't want it. kit would never drink that fuckass worm piss though. actually lie, he might. speaking of the worm piss. not the substance i mean the part of the movie where he almost died from it because it's literally poison and he knew that and drank it anyway. me when i have an exaggerated sense of self worth. me when it's literally poison but i'm different <3 anyway. when chani found him in that coma and jessica was like Only You Can Wake Him because like. some prophecy shit with "tears of the desert spring" and her secret name meant desert spring and she had to cry on him to save him from something she never wanted him to do. and that was effectively the moment that killed their relationship. that was crazy stuff girls...

not much more to say. oh. i must bring up the redacted of it all, of course, i mean naturally. this movie, above all other things i liked about it more than part one, had the added bonus of NOT being "from the ******* edits". watching part one was a constant game of "oh yeah i've seen this one" "classic c****** r***** edit clip!" "oh yeah the hair in his face with a dark expression in his eyes we've all seen it" like it was nice to watch a dune movie that was about dune. you know.

[finexbright]

unpopular opinion and dip time

[cantquitu]

After seeing how it’s all gone down and the aftermath of Venice plus her latest SM posts, I think that Florence started off probably slightly annoyed that Harry and Olivia started dating while filming. Whether that’s just because of the whole Zach/Jason situation or she thought it was unprofessional, we don’t know. Then I think as the movie got closer, she noticed that Harry (and in turn, Olivia) was making all the headlines. Combining the media frenzy around him plus his very vocal fanbase, she was probably even more annoyed and may have felt overshadowed.

Then things really ramp up and she starts seeing some bad press around Olivia (the CinemaCon thing, etc). She doesn’t like the sex scene focus by the media. The Shia thing may have been the tip of the iceberg and she decided she wasn’t going to be involved with the movie in any capacity after that. I see this as a double edge sword - she’s already spent months being annoyed at Olivia/Harry and now she has a justification to be able to ignore the movie. Her team/WB may have been enabling her and telling her she doesn’t need this movie because she’s already a big star and WB lets her out of press because of Dune. Her Harper’s Bazaar comments were very negative, mainly about Harry (her pop star comment felt very petty) and a slight dig at Olivia regarding the sex scenes. She even said in that interview “that’s all I’m ever going to say” about the movie and that was in July, months before it’s released and before the Shia thing.

I think she’s being very calculated by using the current press and attitude towards Olivia to her favor and trying to come out as the “winner” who has rose above all the drama and a director who is being pummeled on all sides. Its definitely working in her favor right now but i do wonder if it will have long term consequences. She’s currently one of the internets “it girls” and Hollywood loves her but it’s also a very fickle place that will turn on you on a dime. She may find herself at the center of a press storm like Olivia is right now one day. She’s a good actress but it takes more than that to have a long term career in Hollywood.

Your speculation about how Florence got here feels like our best guess, since she hasn't said anything direct other than her Harpers Bazaar comments (though she didn't say "that's all I'm ever going to say" in that interview. She said she wouldn't be talking about the sex scenes)

I also doubt that WB was telling her 'you don't need this movie'. I think her team was weighing up her Dune commitments and her reluctance to promote DWD against the value of pressuring her to promote a movie that was already generating a ton of press around her, without her saying a word. I mean, you can see from her red carpet entrance and the reviews praising her work that they were never concerned that she wouldn't shine in relation to this movie. They didn't need her to play nice, except to protect Olivia. Clearly that wasn't their priority.

Yes, I do wonder how or if it might backfire in the future. But I am also very, very aware that we don't know the full story and that she may have good reason to push back and stand her ground. I'm all for powerful women in Hollywood doing that, even if it's at the expense of another woman's reputation and career-damage...IF they have good reason. But right now there's no indication of that good reason (despite what all the dumb little misogynists say), so I'm reserving judgement. As I did for Florence, I should add!

[jenxwp]

Bethell’s Beach

So today I want to talk about sand. Yep. Sand. I know, I know- “how is sand interesting?” you ask. “How is it related to Xena?”... Well. I will cover all of this.

I know I have hyped up the sand-talk and we will get to it, but I really want to start this at the beginning. Back in 2006 when I was a teen, I visited New Zealand with my family. It really was an incredible trip. We flew into Auckland, hired a car and toured through both the North and South islands before flying home to Australia. Of course, living in Australia means that flying anywhere ‘overseas’ is a big thing- even if it’s only the 3hr flight to New Zealand. Unfortunately, this is the only time I have visited New Zealand, but it is a place I desperately want to visit again when post-covid travel resumes.

After being told about this family holiday, as an avid Xena fan, I spent a lot of time on my old-school brick computer (you know the one – big white monitor with a tower and corded keyboard and mouse) scouring the internet for anything ‘Xena’ I could visit or do. My family saw it as a holiday to go see the Maori culture- I saw it as going to Xena-land. My family was very supportive and told me that if there were some filming sites we could go to that were close to places we stayed at we could of course visit them. I ended up finding two places I was desperate to visit just outside of Auckland – Hunua Falls and Bethell’s Beach.

Bethell’s Beach is the location I want to talk about today. It was a staple set location that was used many, many times throughout the series. Almost any beach scene was filmed at Bethell’s Beach. From the incredible chariot race in Return of Callisto, to the  beginning of the beauty pageant in Here She Comes… Miss Amphipolis. It was also used when Xena was crucified in Destiny, when Gabrielle and Joxer arrive at the island in Ten Little Warlords, when Xena first faced off with the gods in Motherhood, and  when the Vikings are gathering in Return of the Valkyrie. Not to mention, when Xena and Gabrielle lay down in the ocean at the end of The Bitter Suite. I could go on and rattle off many more scenes but you get the idea.

…cue pictures of course 😄

So of course, this was a place I was desperate to visit. The beach was amazing. It was a trek to get to (we got lost), but once we got there, it was complete with ‘Poseidon’s Rock’ and ‘Callisto’s Cave’. I also remember there being a sheep and a donkey in a paddock adjacent to the carpark for some reason. Memories huh? Strange things.

I was in heaven. While I was there, I collected a jar of sand. Yes, my family thought I was strange- but it was very special to me. And this little jar of black sand has stayed with me ever since. Any time I have had a Xena table or display anywhere, the jar of sand has lived front and centre.

When it first came back with me, I brought it back in those small plastic hotel shampoo bottles that I had painstakingly rinsed and dried to carry my most precious souvenir. It then went through many iterations in the form of glass moccona coffee jars before finding a home in its current jar.

As an adult now with a science degree- this sand itself is fascinating. Unlike sand elsewhere, it is a finely coarse sand known for being ‘black’. The black colouring comes from the high titanomagetite (iron and titanium compound) content that is formed from the volcanic activity around the New Zealand islands and carried to this beach by the Tasman currents. Because of this, the sand is very heavy, and very hot when the sun hits it.

Funny story- when leaving New Zealand I carried the sand in my hand luggage. My mother was stopped because from the x-ray machine, the 5 tube bottles of black powder resembled TNT. So of course we had to explain ourselves to New Zealand airport staff. After that, I wasn’t quite sure if I had to declare it to customs when I brought it back to Australia, so I distinctly remember telling the customs officer that it was sand from the Xena beach. He had never had an instance of someone bringing sand back, but because living organisms didn’t generally live in sand, he couldn’t see why there was an issue so he let me through.

I am sad that I didn’t visit the adjoining sand dunes and river where many scenes were filmed (like in Mortal Beloved etc), but it really is a reason to go back and visit as soon as I am able.

I don’t have any digital images of my holiday, but here is a photo of the obligatory 00’s scrap-book page that I made for that day. Not too sure what the ‘quicksand’ sign is, but I must have taken a photo of it and cut it out for my scrap-book. Very much Callisto in Return of Callisto vibes. PS- loving the picture I took of a random dude- then proceeded to cut out and stick at the bottom of the page. Because why not? 00′s. Was a crazy time. 😂

“You have to enjoy the peaceful moments in life. You know, everything can’t be an adventure all the time. Like right now. I want you to close your eyes and just listen.”

“To what?”

“To nature speaking to us. It’ll give you a wonderful sense of peace. Close your eyes.”

-Gabrielle and Xena in ‘Ulysses’

[hiyadarlingirl]

Timothée x Zendaya slow burn

Synopsys: timothee and zendaya on the set of dune. Timothee develops a thing for Zendaya, but Zendaya is still with Tom Holland 

Words: 1k 

Warnings: none 

Hello my loves,

Here is part 1 of a slow burn love story between timothee and zendaya. Hope you enjoy! Reblog and share if you want

Love ya a lottos! Kisses Murphy

“Timothée, are you awake?” A female voice sounded from far away. “Tim?” I blinked. A girl hang over me, smiling, curls crowning her face. Her skin glistened, little droplets of sweat scattered over her face. I wiped a hand across my own forehead, wet.

It was hot in the desert and I was not used to this kind of heat. She clearly was, her eyes were bright and awake, no sign of exhaustion or discomfort. I smiled at her. ‘Hi Zee’ ‘Are you alive? Stavros is making mint lemonade, do you want as well?’ “Yes please.” I replied and got my stiff limps to push myself up in a sitting position. She disappeared for a moment, then came back with a carafe and two glasses. She sat next to me, long legs stretched in front, ankles crossed. She was wearing a Greek dress, sand-colored, tied at one shoulder. Aphrodite, I thought but didn’t say it. Today was a resting day, no filming. I could’ve sat in my trailer, there was air conditioning inside but I had decided earlier that day to sit outside in the shade and read for a bit, after which I’d fallen asleep until Zendaya found me. I looked at her as she poured lemonade in a glass and handed it to me. My throat was dry and I felt dehydrated, this was heaven sent. The glass felt icy cold in my warm hand as I gulped it down in mere seconds.

 This was not the first time we met but it was the first time we were alone together. I felt awkward and looked at her shyly for a brief moment while she elegantly took small sips as she looked over the vast plain of sand. I shouldn’t have chugged mine down like that, I thought. I fiddled with the hem of my shirt while coming up with things to say. She seemed more comfortable with the silence than I was.

‘Do you need help running over your lines?’

She looked at me and smiled. ‘No I think I got them down, it’s not that much I have to remember.’

‘Right.’ I nodded. Silence.

‘How are you handling the sweltering heat?’ I asked, not able to come up with a  more interesting question. ‘Are you used to it yet?’

She laughed now, soft but genuine. ‘Sweltering… I love the words you use.’ She uncrossed her ankles and leaned back on her elbows. ‘I’ve been born and raised in California, the heat has become part of my DNA I think.’

I nodded. ‘Of course of course that makes sense’

‘You’re from new York right?’ She asked.

‘Yeah, I am, yes.’

‘I love new York’

‘You do?’

‘I really do yes, I love the hustle and bustle. I love the cold and snow in winter.’

‘Yea it’s great.’

‘Maybe I will move there someday in the near future, I’ve been thinking about it.’

‘What part.’

‘I don’t know yet.. haven’t been around enough to know the best places.’

‘You should visit after shooting, I’ll show you around.’

‘That’d be great, thanks’

Silence. She looked at her wrist where she wore an elegant rosé colored watch. ‘I promised to call my mum’ She said. ‘I’ll be right back okay?’ I nodded. She stood up and walked to her trailer. I contemplated whether to stay here. I had a starting headache and felt nauseous from the heat. I decided to head to the main tent. Jason and Javier were sitting on the floor, cross-legged, playing chess. I could tell Javier was losing by his contorted face and whispered cuss-words..

I sat next to them. ‘Timmy’ Javier mumbled without looking up.

‘How’s it going’ I asked.

‘That bastard is winning from me three times over.’ Javier growled.

It was Jason’s turn. Confidently he looked at the board for only a moment, then moved his bishop.

‘Tonto del culo Jason….’  Javier ran his hand through his hair. ‘I lost. Again.’

Jason laughed. ‘You shouldn’t have moved your knight, that was your first mistake.

‘Si, si.’ He raised his hands in defense. ‘Timothee, your turn.’

‘Ehhhh Im not good, really im not.’

‘You should learn.’ Jason said. ‘We’ll practice.’

Javier stood up and I took his place. We put the pieces back in their starting position and started playing. The first time I lost within five minutes. The second time it took him ten minutes and the third time we were still playing after fifteen minutes and he still hadn’t won. I was contemplating whether to trade my bishop for his rook when Zendaya walked in.

‘I was looking for you.’ She said, then realized I was concentrating. ‘Oh sorry.’

I looked up and smiled at her. ‘No worries.’

‘Can I play you after?’ She asked. I nodded, then tried to refocus on the game.

I traded my bishop for Jason’s rook but by doing so made a fatal mistake of forgetting to protect my queen and one minute later I lost the game.  

Zendaya took Jasons place. ‘You any good?’ I asked. ‘Not at all she replied.’

We played. I won. We played again, I won again but got lucky, I had made many mistakes as I had trouble concentrating. Third time she was winning but her phone started ringing, breaking the silence.

‘I’m sorry, I gotta take this.’ She said and stood up. I nodded and looked at her back as she walked away.

‘Hi Tom.’ I could hear her say before she disappeared out of sight.

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

Rebecca Ferguson interview for CRASH Magazine (September 2020) - translation from French 

AB: You'll be starring in Dune which comes out at the end of this year. Everyone is eager to find out. How did you join this project?

RF: I had a meeting with Denis Villeneuve, the director. I find his work amazing and it was a dream to work with him. His films are always a feast for the eyes.

AB: This film is eagerly awaited, especially by the many fans of the books and the entire Dune universe. Do you feel a certain pressure not to disappoint the audience?

RF: I never feel pressure from the fans. It’s not my job. I have a lot of respect for them and want them to enjoy our work, but I can't please all the people who will go see the film and form their opinions. I remember Tom Cruise saying that everything he does, he does for the fans. I love it when people validate our work but to be honest I love what I do. I love creating a character, the incredible costumes, the make-up. And then work with the best in the world. If the film falters, at least I would have appreciated it. And then I like having conversations with people who don't necessarily agree with the film, it's interesting.

AB: I imagine you must have done a lot of research to prepare for this role.

RF: Oh my god, the whole universe of Dune is so hard to understand. I still barely understand it, even after the shoot. Why are we doing this? Where should I go? Who should I trust? (laughs) So yeah, I did a lot of research. Denis also did all of his own research that I could lean on. The make-up artist was a veritable well of knowledge and stories. And then Jacqueline West, the costume designer, compared our clothes to paintings, from the Renaissance, to Cubism, etc. I barely knew what she was talking about. I just smile. I was working with the experts from the experts. So I hope that at least some things have been achieved.

AB: You are going to shoot additional scenes soon?

RF: Yes, we're going on the set in August...

AB: How long have you lived in Sweden?

RF: I was born in Sweden and have lived there all my life. Then I moved to England a year and a half ago but I divide my time between my small fishing village and London.

AB: Is it important for you to have a foothold in Sweden?

RF: Yes, I have a thirteen year old son who lives there with his father. We're all very close so it's important for me to be where he is. We all travel together, we are a bit like a circus family. (laughs) My son goes to school and it was important not to break his habits and his circle of friends. Thirteen is an important age. With his father and his mother-in-law, we travel together as much as possible and we meet for the holidays. We make it work.

AB: What was your first encounter with cinema?

RF: I don't know how old I was anymore but I remember that when Beauty and the Beast came out in the cinema, I was scared but I still went to see it. I was upset because I was in love with the Beast and when he transformed into what everyone considered to be the perfect man, I found his new face not as alluring as his monster appearance. I wanted him to stay the Beast.

AB: When did you first consider being an actress?

RF: The funny thing is when I was young I never thought I would be an actress. I was fifteen or sixteen when I was taken to play in a series in Sweden. Before, I didn't like being on stage; I never took acting lessons in school. I was in a music school. I didn't have a lot of dreams or career plans. I was one of those kids who did what they were told to do. You have to go to school, do this, do that. You know the song; we call it the school system. Then when I was asked to do this casting for this show, I was terrified. I got the part and that's when my interest in acting started. I realized there was a world in which to hide. I could play characters without having to take responsibility for their actions... and apparently people thought I was good. Good enough to continue anyway.

AB: How did you find yourself participating in this casting?

RF: My mother had decided that I was going to model, even though I don't have the size or the body you would expect from a model. I ended up in a file called “normal people”. (laughs) I didn’t get a single job; it didn't suit me. My sister is a catwalk model so she knows how to do it. Me? Not at all. So I was on their file and I was constantly turning down jobs, I didn't want to do it. Then a casting agency was looking for an actress for this series having already selected the actors who would play her father and her mother. They flipped through model portfolios and then they found me.

AB: How did this first experience go? I saw that you had to act in several episodes a day.

RF: Yes, two and a half episodes a day. It was intense but I was thrown into a world I knew nothing about. I was a blank canvas. I had no expectations and didn't question how it worked. It made me realize that I love to work hard with imposed deadlines. I like to be thrown into difficult situations. It all happened naturally and I took this route.

AB: What was it like seeing yourself for the first time on TV?

RF: There is nothing natural about it. I remember that for the first episode in the series, my mother decided to have a big party with lots of guests. I was more excited about the evening than the rest and when the countdown to the screening started I remember feeling nauseous. I hid behind the sofa. It was very embarrassing. But on the other hand, I thought it was cool. It was a whole new situation, a new world open to me.

AB: After your debut in this Nya Tider series, did you take a break or did you continue to work non-stop?

RF: We actually shot for six months and then we had six months free. My stepfather at the time had the good idea to ask the production to hire me for the remaining six months. As I had left school, that meant I was employed full time, as an actress but also set manager, publicity assistant and everything the production needed when we weren't shooting. I learned everything behind the scenes, I was able to help with the script and the media part. It was the best job I had and it helped me understand the process better when I got back to shooting.

AB: What project did you work on next?

RF: Nothing happened for quite a while because it was a local show - I played a character that everyone associated me with. People recognized me and it was hard for some directors to see me in another role. Then a director called Richard Hobert offered me the lead role in his film “A One Way to Antibes”. It was my first role in the movies and from there I was able to meet agents. It was my gateway to the big screen.

AB: You then got the lead role in the BBC series “The White Queen”. Were you a fan of British television?

RF: Yes, my mother is English so I grew up watching UK programs. Yes Minister, Cracker ... there has been so much British TV in my life that this BBC production was perfect for my entry into the big leagues. This casting process has been probably the most exhilarating of my career. The racing heart, the hope, the doubt, the disappointment ... an emotional lift that I finally won.

AB: What doors have “The White Queen” opened to you?

RF: A lot. First of all, I was nominated for a Golden Globe in the “Best Actress in a Miniseries or Television Film” category which is crazy. I remember being nominated alongside Helen Mirren, Helena Bonham Carter, Elisabeth Moss, who won for her role in Top of the Lake. I was in the same room with people I admired a lot. I always felt like the little Swede who had no place in this extraordinary world. But “The White Queen” has caused meetings and a lot of castings. “A One-Way Trip to Antibes” gave me the opportunity to find an agent in London and the first casting I tried was for “The White Queen”. It was lucky but I also worked hard for this role.

AB: How do you manage the castings in general? Are you still anxious?

RF: At the beginning, everything revolves around castings and meetings. In fact no, before that there are the videos that you make yourself. You have to find monologues, film yourself with your best friend, your boyfriend or your mother. After that, it's the castings. We do so much and it goes very quickly. Sometimes there is a big blockbuster and they are looking for an actress at the last minute. There you are at the restaurant and you have to run to the toilet, grab your phone and do something. You have to prove yourself by putting forward a certain trait of your personality to stand out among the four hundred thousand people who try their luck. I've always liked going to castings. A lot of people I met there were great and understood the horror of the situation. They made me feel relaxed. Again, I would throw myself into situations without giving it much thought and hoping someone would notice me. If that doesn't work, you have to move on.

AB: Are there any mentors that you have met throughout your career?

RF: Yes, Veronica St Clair was my coach in Sweden. After playing on the show, I missed the end of my schooling so I couldn't go to college. I would have started from scratch. But I had worked for two years in nurseries, restaurants, supermarkets, etc. I had left home and was living an adult life at a young age. I saved some money to pay for my personal development classes which helped me better express myself and improvise. I also contacted film schools who still needed free actors for their end of year films. I've done a lot, I don't know how many student films. I took what I could take. Veronica was unbelievable, she did so much for me. She has prepared me for many challenges. But at one point, we have the chance to stop casting. We make appointments. The dynamics are changing. It's not just about pleasing a director anymore, we have to like the project too, that it brings us something.

AB: It becomes a conversation.

RF: Yes. Can this film stimulate me? Is the project right for me?

AB: At what point in your career have you felt your opinion was as important as pleasing a director?

RF: After Mission Impossible.

AB: How did the casting go for this film?

RF: I was filming a miniseries called “The Red Tent” for Lifetime. Tom told me he noticed me on “The White Queen”. It's a funny story from their side because they had auditioned a lot of women without being able to find the right one. They had already considered me for the role, but I didn’t make a good enough impression for them to stop casting. (laughs) Then they had to do it again because the chosen person didn't suit. They are very careful and don't say too much when they tell these stories. I always wanted to know who the other woman was. (laughs) Finally, resuming the auditions, they decided to give me my chance. I was in Morocco, sitting on the camel Nicole Kidman had used for the movie “Queen of the Desert”. They called me to tell me that Tom Cruise wanted to meet me. They wanted to see if I could fight. It was quite surreal. They brought in the stunt teams who created the choreography. I realized I loved it. I could use my dance knowledge, which I have been practicing from a young age. They were very good martial arts trainers. And then I ended up getting the part.

AB: How did you appropriate the character of Ilsa Faust?

RF: I don't feel like I appropriated it honestly. There are certain characters that I personalize. But when it comes to Mission Impossible, Christopher McQuarrie is such a great writer that I focused on physical training and being part of an already formed team. As an actress, you have to bring something personal, the way I walk, I talk, I frown, I think, will be reflected in the character. I'm not going too far into the secrets or shadows of the director. There is a precise technique in the creation of these films. You have to have confidence, know your text and arrive on time.

AB: Was it the first time that you had to have such great physical preparation and stunts to do?

RF: I had never had so much need to train and be in good shape. Like I said, I love challenges and working hard to achieve a goal. I remember Chris telling me in an interview, “Tom is a movie star. Simon Pegg isn't just his sidekick, he's smart, funny. Luther Stickell also brings something. All of these male characters add something to Mission Impossible. Who are you? What are you bringing?”. I remember thinking about it, telling myself that Ilsa's character had to fill a void, that the film would miss her if we took her away. I had to find meaning in it. It's a balance between following something that has been created and leaving an imprint. This is something Tom and Chris have done very well. Ilsa has a real mission, she saves Tom. She is his equal. This is not a vase. But she's also vulnerable, she's scared ... she feels things. There was a lot to do on this project, to live up to what already existed.

AB: You've been in a lot of action and science fiction movies. What attracts you to this kind of cinema?

RF: I think I am drawn to all genres of cinema. What happened was, I played in Mission Impossible and people loved Ilsa. I proved that I could act out the fight scenes myself and I loved it. I think these kinds of films came naturally to me. But I try to vary the genres. My dream is to shoot in independent films. I want to go where I have never been. And I haven't made an independent film yet. A lot of people fight to shoot in big Hollywood studio movies and I was lucky to have had those experiences.

[nettlestonenell]

Armie Hammer wants a sequel to The Man From U.N.C.L.E.—shouldn’t you?

This post is a long time in coming, Gentle Readers and @jammeke​, but now, though it might be here, before your very eyes, to think it will be well-laid out would be a mistake. It’s set to be just about as messy as Ilya’s misplaced loyalties and murky motivations.

How dare!

I probably first watched this film well over a year ago (courtesy @jammeke​ posting things about it). I used Sling OnDemand (I think on TNT). In the ensuing viewings I also watched it in that way, but as I was sitting down for a fourth(?) viewing, it kept coming to me that I was tired of watching it with commercials I couldn’t skip, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it had been edited for time and I was missing out on scenes. [pointless aside: I was also watching the film in chunks, and never as a whole]

Where is she now? What’s the time stamp? How far along did she get? Are you shagging the hotel hostess yet?

So, I, uh, set out to buy it on DVD—without any luck! In the sense that copies I could find cost more (w/ shipping) than buying it to stream. So, I bought it to stream on Amazon. Do I regret my choice, Gentle Readers? No, no I don’t. I do regret burden of knowledge in learning that TNT was already playing the entirety of the film. That was a hard pill to swallow.

Nope, I’ve looked. That’s absolutely everything. Nothing additional lurking around here...

So here it is, as it is, @jammeke, “My Notes on The Man from U.N.C.L.E.”

Look, I don’t know what this film is. I probably can’t fully articulate its appeal. Or maybe I can--certainly after transcribing four page I’ve tried. Number One thing to know about me and fiction/films is that a top draw for me is seeing something out of the ordinary, such as beautiful locations, a historical era, delicious costumes. There are times, frankly, this can trump weak story and undefined character for me. (The best films, of course, combine all three) Certainly, The Man... delivers in the delight of the eyes. Additionally, I must confess that growing up as a person older than @reblogginhood​ but younger than Miss Fisher, so much of what was on TV was essentially reruns of this film’s iconic Look(tm). So, when I see women dressed like Gaby I am just another three-to-seven-year-old overcome with the drop dead glamour of it all.

Darling, tell me how you really feel...

Some questions I have:

·         IS Armie Hammer a hulk of a man? Everyone in this film seems to think so, yet he always tracks to me as trim (rather than hulking)

·         Why translate via captions some Russian speaking, but not all?

·         IS Napoleon’s backstory directly cribbed from USA’s White Collar?

·         DOES Gaby have a German accent?

·         Does Ilya get preternaturally attached to all the people he’s ordered to look after? Also, what is his bonding rate with kittens?

Sorry, wrong iteration. 

 ·         If Lady Villain knows the lens is wrong—if her technical understanding is that in-depth--does she really need Gaby’s dad to make the bomb?

·         How old was Gaby during the war?

·         What happens when Ilya gets a NEW puppy assigned to him? (please let this be addressed in film #2)

Hooray for:

·         That bathroom fight! *all the Burn Notice feels!

·         Gaby is her own lady, and chooses sides as necessary—not always unilateral in her support for either male character. Case in point: she sides with Ilya over the clothes, and Napoleon over the incident of the wallet.

·         That delicious (speaking as Rusty, here) Ocean’s 11-stylized action. It’s pretty, so I’m not bored with it. Sometimes a sandwiched montage gets shown, so I’m REALLY not bored. I’ve got 18 tiny moving boxes of things to look at!

·         Pinkie rings. There, you’ve told me everything I need to know about that character.

·         Solo in a beret. English has not yet found a word for the feeling it evoked in this viewer. Somewhere between ‘precious’ and ‘oh, no’.

See, there? Now you’ve felt it too.

·         Goggles! All the accessories! Dune Buggies! (I mean, that’s what I’m calling Napoleon’s chase-scene ride)

Things I adore:

·         It seems (after some research) that more than a few folks view Gaby as a third wheel, and though she’s not exactly a Princess Leia commandeering her own rescue and exuding competence and a deserved take-charge-attitude at every corner, she IS a foci for both male characters (though romantically it would seem only for one), just as Ilya is a foci for both her and Napoleon [no one seems to worry about Napoleon, though they should--film #2, anyone?]

·         Mechanic Gaby not needing a beauty makeover, or being dragged into one. She gets some nice clothes, but it’s never suggested that she’s not attractive or acceptable before putting them on, and I respect, nay, embrace it.

Oh, my heart. She’s still not as tall as them!

·         Ilya, drab pigeon Ilya, knowing fashion

·         Oh man, don’t even get me started on the power of the statement, “it doesn’t have to match”

·         You knew it was coming on this sublist: the wrestle-fight. I mean, c’mon. Poor little Gaby, locked behind the Iron Curtain, living a life of always being watched. She’s in the swankest hotel (I mean, Napoleon chose it, so we can be sure it’s swank with an E). She’s trying to celebrate her freedom, her liberation. She’s playing verboten music, she’s drinking to excess. Girl wants—and deserves—a party. And Ilya is…not built for that (that he knows of). For some fun, just imagine if she had been given Napoleon to room with instead.

                            o   I will say that this scene, and some of their other interactions have what I would call early (non-sibling) Luke and Leia energy. Ilya seems to have moments of being struck by Gaby in a way Luke is struck by Leia in the early part of the trilogy. When Leia takes charge, and Luke accepts it. When Leia does something incredible, and Luke is left open-mouthed. *no, I don’t see OT Star Wars in everything. Shut up.

·         “He fixed the glitch.”

·         Again, shout-out to the non-action action.

·         “I left my jacket in there.”

·         The whole race to rescue Gaby I am in love with beyond words. [I have noted it as “Crazy Jeep Drive with Warhead!”] Probably b/c it comes across as totally egalitarian. Both men want her rescued. They’re no longer in competition. It’s just as important to Napoleon as it is to Ilya to catch up to her. Also, it is bonkers, like some sort of X-games version of a commercial for the vehicles they’re driving. And screaming Willie Scott does not make an appearance.

         Someone says “winkle” out.

·         Look! Another note about the screen divisions and how I love it, shout-outs to the original Steve McQueen The Thomas Crown Affair (a contemporary of when this movie is meant to be set), and TV’s 24.

Things that get a great, big NOPE:

·         Jerrod Harris: you’ve been in so much streamable content in the last decade I can’t hate you, but frankly, you’re terrible here—unless you’re supposed to be giving a mannered, not-campy-enough-to-be-enjoyable performance here. Your American English puts me in the mind of Alex Hawaii 5-0′Loughlin where it feels you’re concentrating so hard on your accent that you fail to convince anyone that you’re a harried, over-worked and exasperated spy handler. Your performance is at odds with every bit of dialogue you’re given to say.

·         That awful, mishandled title that doesn’t even connect to the film until the final moments (a sequel set-up, for sure)

·         Look, you don’t introduce Hugh Grant casually mid-way through your film in a throwaway appearance. I mean, he’s HUGH GRANT we all know something’s up now.

·         This is not exactly a great big NOPE, b/c I love a flat cap, Tommy Shelby—but I feel like a less tall man with a far rounder face in a flat cap would track more as Russian to me that AH does. To me, he just looks like he’s about to go golfing.

Over par? Unacceptable!

·         Is Victoria a British-accented Italian? A British woman who married—what? Gaby’s uncle isn’t Italian!? An Italian who went to school in Britain? My head hurts. Also, is her hair meant to be unconvincingly bleached?

Other commentary:

·         Napoleon’s adult ne’er-do-well backstory is so far from being emotionally equivalent to Ilya’s childhood trauma [and his enslavement to the USSR] it seems bestial when he calls it out on multiple occasions. Badly done, Solo.

·         Gaby is the film’s key (sorry, Buffy fans). Everyone is connected to her. Yes, she could have been given a bit more on the character front, but I don’t see her as as much of a flaw in the film as some others/reviewers seem to.

·         Look, essentially (and not very nuanced-ly), Ilya is a stalker. I think the film goes a certain distance in establishing that his early behavior toward Gaby is not normal, but concurrently it does not truly call him out on it. He’s essentially viewed as an odd-duck, sure, but not a true threat to her (should she not reciprocate or tolerate his intensity toward her). I think I might be able to cite his behavior when Gaby comes on to him (that he doesn’t jump at a chance with her) that maybe he’s given a little more nuance than a straight-on stalker, and it helps that he and Napoleon never get into a pissing match over Gaby’s person, only over her new clothes. But overall the film has to walk a fine line (and the jury is still out on how successful it is, I’d say) between playing Ilya’s laser-like attention to Gaby for its humor, and calling it out for the unsettling, threatening behavior it is.

·         Honestly, it wasn’t until I engaged the Closed Captioning that I understood Napoleon was calling Ilya the ‘Red Peril’. So, that was nearly three viewings in.

·         I give the screen credits A+, on both ends. Not to mention the end credits are actually INTERESTING with lots to see and learn! (Certainly we learn more about HG in them than we do at any time during the film)

Things I would have liked:

·         More of fish-out-of-the-Iron-Curtain Gaby moments

·         A better dichotomy shown of East vs. West Berlin/Germany. There’s nothing easy either visually or otherwise to distinguish the two.

·         HC being given a more specific American accent (from an actual locality). This, for an American viewer, works better than the flat, unlocated American accent many a British actor will bust out. *Mind you, HC does a generally good job, but he fails utterly on both “Immediate” which he pronounces at least twice as “immeedeejt” [rather than imm-E-deeot] and “Nazi” as “NAHT-zee” [rather than “NOT-zee”]. And let’s not get started on that late in the film use of ‘earnt’, a word that—well, it’s just not in the American English twentieth century lexicon.

·         C’mon. You gotta tease the Hugh Grant more.

·         Solo is a blank before the war. I’ve read thoughts on the film calling out Gaby as the blank character, but they’re wrong. Solo is the blank. He’s the ‘made’ man, his identity seemingly assembled during the war and after. For example, he doesn’t go into the war a thief, nor (it would seem) a particularly educated or urbane individual. Now THAT’s a juicy backstory I’d love to learn about, perhaps in film #2--or #3? What creates a Napoleon Solo? What would he be doing if he weren’t on the government’s leash/incarcerated? Is anyone left caring about him back wherever he calls home? I mean, who doesn’t love a gender-flipped 60s-era Holly Golightly backstory? [And yes, I would love there to be an ex-wife or even a current wife mixed up in his origins as well—Guy Ritchie, call me!]

Notes I have that I’m not sure if they still make sense to me:

·         Only mom calls me Napoleon (do he say it ‘mum’?) Is he a secret Canadian?

·         Solo’s torture, 1st view recall Napoleon’s childhood? *I think this means that after watching the first time I somehow erroneously believed that during the torture Napoleon’s childhood was a topic gone over. This was wrong. HOWEVER, this would have made far more story-sense than the backstory we’re given on an easily disposeable villain.

·         “Even the average Russian agent. You’re special.” ?

·         Uncle is Baddie (*so glad I made this note to myself)

·         Ilya’s dad IS an embarrassment. I’m not sure what genius commentary I had in my mind, here. Perhaps that Ilya himself is embarrassed of him? Not just Ilya’s handler’s? [Also, aside: Napoleon totally slut-shames Ilya’s mom, which is the doublest of double standards from ‘I got myself the biggest and most ornate suite b/c I-wanted-plenty-of-space-for-my-random-seductions’ and I really wish Ilya had thrown that back in his face] *yes, of course I know that Ilya and Napoleon would not likely equate a wife/mother’s sexual exploits with that of Solo’s, but let’s be honest, this film tweaks the nose of (I won’t say reverses, it doesn’t go that far) plenty of tropes and gender expectations, and this certainly seems like a missed opportunity to call Solo on the carpet (which I hope film #2 does far more)

Things I wrote down so long ago I don’t recall what they mean:

·         CC-save

In conclusion:

What does film #2 look like? What title does it get? Will the Peter/Neil White Collar dynamic continue to grow? *note that I have no confidence a second film will ever come to pass...

In the end, all I know is, “It didn't help when American Tom Cruise, who was slated to play U.S. spy Napoleon Solo, dropped out, prompting the casting of Cavill (who had previously read for the Russian role).“ I would not have watched that film.

[melancholicumsomnia]

[FIC] A Little Miracle In The Volume Part 2

A/N: Here’s the second part of my fic contribution to PEDRO PASCAL APPRECIATION WEEK 2021! Part 2 focuses on the #ppaw2021 theme of the day, Favorite TV show Pedro starred in. Obviously, I still loved Pedro best in The Mandalorian, but his performance as Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones was absolutely exquisite!

Thank you to @pedrohub​ for the incentive to write this little fic. To @pedrocentric​, here is Part 2!

PREVIOUS PARTS

Part 1

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A Little Miracle In The Volume

By

Rory

Part Two

Pedro was limping back to his trailer, struggling against the urge to massage his aching groin. He had just come from the Volume to film a scene with Gina Carano, who plays Cara Dune, and Misty Rosas, who was playing the Ugnaught Kuiil. It was a simple scene actually, requiring their characters to ride through the rugged terrain of Nevarro in order to make their rendezvous with Carl Weather’s Greef Karga. In the pre-vis, they were going to ride blurrgs. In reality, the blurrgs turned out to be mechanical bulls, but with a wider girth. 

Brendan and Lateef had seen the dubious looks he was throwing at the machine and they couldn’t help laughing.

“Come on, man!” Lateef said in between wheezes. “There’s nothing to worry about. That thing won’t buck.”

“Hey! You can’t be Mando just by wearing the armor,” Brendan then goaded him. “You must ride the blurrg. Both Lateef and I have done it, so can you.”

Pedro let out a groan and gritted his teeth at that memory. Even his back was starting to ache in sympathy with his groin. “I guess I’m starting to feel my age. I really need to work out more.”

With his trailer looming not so far from him at last, he quickened his pace, wanting that ice pack he had his assistant prepare for him in the fridge. 

Before he could reach it, however, Pedro’s eyes were drawn to Werner Herzog’s trailer nearby. The German director was seated in front of his trailer beneath a beach umbrella, the Child on his lap. He was watching something on his iPad, which was propped up on its stand on top of a small table. Pedro heard snickers and he whirled to see the puppeteers Tamara Woodard, Kan, and Trevor with remote controls in their hands, hiding behind the crates. 

Deb Chow happened to be passing by and, when she saw the trio, she remarked, “You guys are the worst! You should really stop feeding that old man’s fantasies!”

“We just want to keep him happy,” Kan answered, flicking a knob so that Pedro saw Grogu’s ears go up. Sagely, he added, “We all know the stories about him and Klaus Kinski. We’re not taking any chances.” The others nodded in grim agreement, causing Deb to roll her eyes, mutter “I give up!” under her breath, and march off.

Curiosity getting the better of him in the end, Pedro cautiously approached that imperious figure. “Hi, what are you guys watching?”

Werner glanced briefly back at him and said dryly, “Oh, it’s you.” Going back to the TV show playing on his iPad, he replied, “Since you are playing our stoic bounty hunter, I thought I should explore your previous works. The Child and I were going to watch Narcos, but since it’s about Pablo Escobar, it might be too violent for the little one. So I figured the best option would be your episode in Game of Thrones.”

“Uhm, I don’t think Game of Thrones is also appropriate viewing for a kid that young,” Pedro commented in turn, only to realize what he just said. Wait! I’m talking about a puppet, not a real kid. Oh my God! This delusion is contagious! Grogu looked up then and gave him a sweet smile. But, then again, he’s so cute! Awww!

Werner’s lips pursed in a disapproving pout. ���Yes, I know. I was pouring myself some iced tea when that scene of you in the brothel came on. I couldn’t cover the baby’s eyes fast enough, so he was able to catch an eyeful of ample bosoms and buttocks.” He glanced down at the baby sitting on his lap, wagging a finger. “Remember what Grandpa Werner told you. When you see a scene like that, you must never watch, you must never listen.”

Great! Pedro couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes, just as Deb had done. Now, you’re quoting Grizzly Man at him. 

At Werner’s remark, Grogu gazed up at Pedro again. There was no mistaking the now lecherous, toothy grin on his little face and the enthusiastic bobbing up and down of his brows.

Scowling, Pedro turned to the mischievous puppeteers. He mouthed out to them, “Guys! What the fuck?”

In reply, the puppeteers gave him thumbs up and wide, conniving smirks. 

“I should say though,” Werner then began thoughtfully, “I am very impressed with your performance here. Oberyn Martell, a proud, head-strong, and seductive prince desiring revenge for his poor sister… In other actors, the arrogance would overwhelm their performance, making him a figure to be detested or, worse, a caricature of similar characters in past films. But, no, behind that façade is kindness and gentleness. It’s because of your eyes, I think, and your voice. You’re speaking with a Latino accent in this one. You are from Mexico?”

“No, Chile actually.”

“You have a splendid way of expressing your emotions through tone of voice. Very few actors can do that. Brilliant performance, young man,” Werner gave that reluctant praise. “I can see why they chose you to play the Mandalorian. Even if you are not wearing the armor, you can still carry the character on your voice alone. How old were you when you did this?” “

“Uh, 38, 39, I guess.”

“And how old are you now?”

“I’m 43.” Pedro was not sure where this line of questioning was going.

“And it is only now that Hollywood has taken notice of your talent.” The German director shook his head ruefully. “Hollywood has become too reliant on the so-called ‘star power.’ I dread to think about the other precious little stars who are going unnoticed.”

Pedro was touched by Werner’s words. “It’s okay, sir. I’ve paid my dues, done my share of waiting on tables as a struggling actor. In fact, after working on Game of Thrones, I couldn’t find a single job. It took months before I got a recurring role on another TV show, The Mentalist.”

“Now, you have made it at last.”

“I’m not letting this current success get to my head. I know just how fickle Hollywood can be. To be very honest, I still don’t have that confidence. All this…” He raised his hands to the media campus surrounding them. “…All the work that I’ve been doing in the past few months, it still seems like a dream to me.”

“And that’s a very good attitude to have. Always be true to yourself. Show people who you truly are.” A wry, fond smile formed on Werner’s lips. “I suddenly remembered Klaus Kinski. He had been extremely difficult. He was a man with serious mental health problems. But he never sought to disguise his true self. It made it very hard for people like me, his family, and other people around him. Despite his foul temper, his brutality, it is that frank, straight-in-your-face honesty, I think that’s what I admired most about him.” 

Pedro chuckled. “At least, I’m not hot-tempered like Klaus Kinski.”

A towering hulk of a man marched onscreen on the iPad and Werner gasped. “That is no man! That’s a grizzly bear!”

“That’s Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson, one of the world’s strongest men. He played Ser Gregor Clegane, aka ‘The Mountain Who Rides’, in Game of Thrones.”

At that moment, a bright idea suddenly came into Pedro’s head. Should I dare ask him now? He did just praise me after all. Maybe he is already starting to accept me. Okay, I will!

“Uhm, Mr. Herzog?” Pedro began shyly. “Since you liked my past performances and appreciate my worth as an actor, may you please allow me to spend more time with the baby?”

Werner turned to him sharply, his eyes flashing like daggers. “I appreciate your worth as an actor, true. But it absolutely has nothing to do with caring for this baby.”

Pedro was crestfallen. Still, he persisted, “Sir, please. I promise you that I will and can take good care of the baby. My sister Javiera…she often entrusts the care of her kids to me.”

“But they are not your children! You are a bachelor.” Werner looked him straight in the eye. “How could you be a father to this Child when you aren’t one?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, sir, this Child is a puppet.”

“Then how can you commit to playing a father when you cannot immerse yourself in the fantasy?”

“But how can I commit when you’re keeping the Child all to yourself?”

“I have only three episodes to do in this TV show. I want to make the most of this time I have with him. We have just started filming. You have an entire season to bond with him!”

“No, I don’t! I still have to finish my commitments with Wonder Woman 1984. I only have a single episode with the Child this season, so my time here is short!”

Because the two men were arguing heatedly, none of them noticed that the Child was still watching the episode on the iPad. He was staring enrapt as the trial by combat between Oberyn Martell and the Mountain commenced. Many times, Grogu would look closely at Oberyn’s face and then gaze up admiringly at Pedro.

But then, the Mountain struck back with a vicious blow, knocking out Oberyn’s teeth. As the Child watched in growing horror, the Mountain placed his fingers over Oberyn’s eyes and pressed down.

Both Pedro and Werner were shocked when Grogu let out a high-pitched scream, his eyes wide and waving his little arms frantically. A quick glance at the iPad and Pedro realized why Grogu was in a state of mortal terror.

Before Werner could stop him, Pedro scooped the distraught Child up and started rocking him, patting his back. Grogu kept shaking his little head, rubbing his brow over the soft cloth of the cape hanging above Pedro’s collarbone.

“Sssh! Don’t cry, Grogu,” Pedro whispered soothingly in his ear, being careful that Werner did not hear the Child’s name. “It’s just a TV show. As you can see, I’m okay. He never hurt me.” To his relief, his gentle reassurances gradually calmed the Child down.

Still stunned to silence, Werner could only watch with mouth agape as Pedro placed Grogu back on his lap. To his credit, the Child raised his arms to him, wanting more hugs. Despite his longing, Pedro just gave the little one a gentle smile and a pat on the head.

“Stop watching my past works with the Child,” Pedro scolded the German filmmaker. “None of them are appropriate for kids, except for that one Touched By An Angel episode. I wouldn’t even recommend The Great Wall because he might get scared of the Tao Tei monsters.”

Having given the final word, Pedro limped off to his trailer to get that ice pack and some much-needed rest.

Neither man noticed the perplexed group of puppeteers behind them, all of them staring down at their remote controls. Kan even took to giving his controls little shakes.

When their fellow puppeteer Jason Matthews came over, Trevor asked him, “Hey, Jason! Were you controlling the puppet just now?”

“No, I was in a meeting with Dave.”

Tamara interrupted, “Did you install a mic on the kid because we just heard him scream?”

Jason stared back at them. “What mic? You know that any baby noises will be added by the sound guys later.”

Kan gripped a startled Jason’s arms. “We saw the Child move…by itself! And he also screamed, like a real baby!”

Jason grabbed Kan’s hands and slowly lowered them. “Get a grip, will ya? It’s probably just a minor malfunction. Get the puppet from Mr. Herzog and we’ll check it out.”

“But…but…”

“No buts! You shouldn’t have been playing with it to begin with. You AND Mr. Herzog.”

The puppeteers then walked off, leaving his confused crew behind. 

“But…but…we did see the Child move by itself!” they argued back feebly.

TO BE CONTINUED

[veryveryverytemporarily]

Perfect

Sort of a match for robron week 2020 day 1.  And chapter 1 of 2 chapters.

Ao3 link here.

There must have been a reason why Robert arrived at the age of twenty-one still a virgin; some half-formed idea that your first time was meant to mean something and then it had gone on longer than he ever intended.

Of course, the press had loved it; hanging onto the railings outside the TV set where the teen drama that made him famous was filmed. Cameras flashing with one single purpose; to catch a shot of the purity ring that he wore on the fourth finger of his left hand.

He slowed from a run to a walk and reached for the ring where it still hung on a chain around his neck, leaned against the sea wall that looked out over the bay.

There were seagulls. He watched them soar over waves whipped up by the east coast winds. They looked happy enough – happy and carefree.

There was a frantic whispering behind him. Automatically he pulled his hood up and hunched his shoulders, waiting until the sound of footsteps receded. A glimpse of ankle socks and black school shoes on the newly tarmacked promenade, followed by a shrill voice screaming, ‘It is him; I told you!’

Alone again he clasped his hands together. His palms were sweaty, and not from the run; it was a big day ahead.

‘It’s too much pressure. If anything, it encourages more focus on the physical side of things; not less,’ his mum, Sarah, had said once upon a time. She hadn’t known he was listening outside the door. She’d held up a tabloid which had his picture on the corner of the front page, caught in the garden messing about with a hose pipe, the water gushing over him. He could see the headline still: How long can teen heart-thRob keep himself cool as temperatures rise around him?

He was fifteen at the time.

‘He should be able to live like a normal kid!’

But what was normal? How was he supposed to know even?

His dad thought the ring protected him. And his agent had loved it, pointing out the positives of a wholesome public image.

And then anyway everything had changed. His Mum had died. He’d painted on a smile for the cameras while the blackest times played out behind the scenes. Then there were the fights, and well, he’d been suspended from the show age seventeen, and he’d never gone back.

For a while there’d been Katie, and even though he wasn’t sure why anymore, they’d both agreed to wait until the wedding, and he’d thought he’d been redeemed. Even got a role with the Shakespeare Youth Company, a chance to relaunch his career.

But the paparazzi had got a picture of him leaving a hotel with the older woman in the fur coat, and she’d lied, and said they’d gone the whole way. Andy was waiting to take Katie away, the distance with his Dad became a chasm. He stopped showing up for rehearsals.

And now, a couple of years on, here he was.

He followed the smooth inner circle of the ring with his finger tip, elbows still resting on the wall. The tide was in. Maybe today was the day, he thought: How easy it would be to just unfasten the chain and let it fall into the cold grey waves, and after, to just turn around and walk away.

 ***

 ‘Where did you say you were staying?’

‘Filey.’

’At this time of year? And you’re staying in a youth hostel, did you say? Is there even one in Filey?’

‘A hotel.’

‘Well, who’s paying for that, love?’

‘It’s a job, like you’ve been banging on about? A photoshoot; all expenses paid.’

‘I don’t know. Maybe Paddy should join you.’

‘Mum, I’m seventeen, not seven. I’m fine. A couple of days and I’ll be back.’

Ever since she’d seen the dating App on his phone, she’d been on his case, doing his head in. So, what if he wasn’t old enough; he’d downloaded it more out of curiosity than anything. And anyway, he’d only used it once or twice and then deactivated, not because she was right, but because he’d got tired of turning down weirdos and pervy older blokes.

He walked into the dining-room, cutlery and linen laid out for breakfast service, sat down at an empty table. He flinched at the rare sighting of morning sunshine streaming in through the windows from outside, where seagulls divebombed hapless walkers hoping for scraps.

‘…a flawless family hotel with a reputation for fine cuisine…’ Adam had read out loud on his phone as they waited to say goodbye at the coach station the afternoon before. He’d sucked his teeth. ‘Does that mean they have like really small portions?’

Aaron frowned over the breakfast menu, then asked for toast.

 The photographer, Marc, had already sent scouts over a week before on a location search; the remote outdoors he wanted, sand dunes and haram grass, most of all privacy. And yes, he did know this was Costa del Yorkshire, but the natural light and the ambience were perfect for what he had in mind.

Aaron had caught up with him yesterday when he arrived, but he hadn’t met the model yet.

He was examining his plate with something approaching alarm, when the blond came in through the garden door; freckles, long hair, long limbs in a blue tracksuit.

He turned back to his breakfast, prodded cautiously with his fork at something on his plate that looked suspiciously like black pudding.

‘Need to put a name to perfection? Allow me to introduce myself.’

His eyebrows shot up; the blond was attempting to chat up the waitress.

He turned his chin discreetly so he could listen in.

From the corner of his eyes he could see that he’d raised both arms, curling his wrists to show off his biceps which as far as Aaron could tell were nonexistent.

‘See those guns? Those are for the ladies,’ the blond said, leaning way back in his chair. And then he puckered his lips and planted a kiss on his sleeve. ‘So, if you’re a lady, you could be in luck.’

Aaron either coughed or choked.

When the blond looked round, he banged a fist against his chest, indicating his plate.

Good for the waitress that she seemed quite savvy. She spoke with an Eastern European accent, gesturing with her pen.

‘So, what’s under the table, then?’

‘Oh, that’s for a special occasion. But play your cards right, and your name might just get added to the guest list.’

‘Let me know the date of the occasion, and I’ll pack my magnifying glass,’ she answered.

Aaron snorted again, this time he didn’t try to disguise it.

Their eyes locked, the blond with steely accusation as Aaron turned down the corners of his mouth.

What a dick!

Arrogant - but not just that, the whole conversation had been a complete car crash.

But it was none of his business, he had more important things to think about. He inhaled a mouthful of tea, decided on one more piece of toast, and then checked his phone to see if Marc had sent a message about when they were due to start.

 ***

Back in his room, Aaron put on some black eye liner, picked up his key card and put it in his pocket, then pulled up the handle on his makeup case and wheeled it into the hall.

What he really wanted to do was work in the film industry; a chance to use his skills in silicone prosthetics.  

‘First, I’ll take a cast, and then make a replica, and then paint it,’ he’d explained to Adam that time he’d asked him to be a guinea pig.

‘A cast of what?’ Adam had asked nervously.

‘Well not that, obviously! Your arm will do, you numpty! It’s a project, right, for my portfolio? And even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t….’

He’d kind of blushed. It was a long couple of years ago now since there’d been that confusing time which had eventually led to him coming out. The time he’d tried to kiss Adam, which still made him cringe inside when he thought about it.

‘It’s alright, you idiot. I still love you, okay,’ Adam had said. ‘I think deep down I always knew even if you were in denial about it. And now you’ll be able to find a nice bloke, yeah?’

Which was easy enough to say; he’d waited while all the kids at school moved on from one crush to the next, and then started to date. Until he felt like he was the only one still wondering what it was all about.

Then when he’d started college, all at once a load of blokes started to hit on him, and he’d agreed to see the ones he liked, and started exploring and enjoying the physical side of things.

But he still hadn’t had an actual relationship.

‘Honestly bro! You’re so picky! No one’s perfect, you just need to give someone a chance, yeah?’ Adam had said.

But what if there was someone perfect? It was just a feeling; but what if somewhere there was someone meant just for him? Wasn’t that worth holding out for?

 He took the elevator up a couple of floors.

It had been his tutor’s gig, but then he’d got ill at the last minute and asked Aaron to go in his place. Male model, glamour, he’d said, then added hastily, not boudoir or anything like that, while Aaron felt his throat flush threatening to spread up to his face. ‘And it’ll be good to have something else to put in your portfolio with that…’ he’d hesitated as if he was searching for the right word; ‘…prosthetic. So, make the most of it.’

‘Bro! Is he gonna be ripped?’ Inevitably Adam had teased him about it. ‘What if it’s love at first sight?’

He’d ignored him, of course, but he couldn’t deny the slight fluttering in his stomach right now. He knocked on Marc’s door, waited until it was opened, then stepped inside.

A big double bed dominated the small room. There were prints scattered over it of local bays and coastal paths supplied by the scouts, and Marc’s laptop open with the fan blowing hard. Above the headboard there was a glowering seascape of a fishing boat in trouble over turbulent waters.  

There was an old-fashioned dressing table with a folding mirror opposite the bed, and on the upholstered stool in front of it, sitting the wrong way round with his elbows balanced behind him, was the blond from breakfast.

Aaron turned back to Marc.

Even before he’d got the question out, he knew the answer; but it was too late, and anyway, by then he’d decided to enjoy it.

‘Where’s your model, then?’ he asked, looking searchingly about the room.

He saw the blond half close his eyes.

  ***

‘You know that meme…the one that goes …oh hello it’s you… it’s going to be you…’ he said later, on the phone to Adam.

‘Yeah?’

‘Well, basically, it was that... only this was…goodbye, it’s not you…it’s not going to be you…’

‘Oh man! I suppose you could just come back.’

‘Nah, I’d better see it through.’

The thing was there was something he hadn’t told Adam, something he felt he shouldn’t tell because it wasn’t about him, and it wasn’t really his place. And a model and a makeup artist, well, before anything else there had to be trust.

  ***

Trust? – His very first job and he’d blown it.

Of course, Marc had introduced them and Aaron found out who the blond was; Robert Sugden - he remembered something about a teen on a daytime TV show when he was in primary school.

‘Are you sure he’s qualified? How old is he? Looks like a twelve-year old.’ Robert asked.

‘Basically, your fan base, then.’

‘Why, are you planning on joining? Succumb to the inevitable?’

Their eyes locked again, just like at breakfast, until Robert looked down at Aaron’s makeup case.

‘What products are you using? Dior? Guerlain? M.A.C?’

‘Erm, Wet n Wild, and just Boots own brand, really. It’s alright.’

He thought back to the weekend, trying to slip disposable lip wands in his pocket while Adam turned on the charm with the girl at the chemists.

It was Marc who broke the impasse.

‘We’ve got an hour until the transports here. Just get it done. And remember Aaron, raw and natural, alright?’

And then he’d gone, leaving them to it.

  Aaron sighed.

So the model wasn’t what he’d hoped for. The best most generous description he could come up with for this one was your boy next door type - and he wasn’t feeling particularly generous.

But he needed to put that behind him now. He needed to stop thinking of Robert as a person, and focus on him as an art project; nothing more, just something to put in his portfolio.

He checked the lighting around the mirror and unzipped the makeup case. Robert sat forward, eyeing his reflection, a finger smoothing down an eyebrow.

He chose a nude primer for the blond’s eyes to start with.

‘Swivel.’

‘You what?’

‘Just move round to face me,’ he snapped.

He squeezed out some of the primer onto his finger tip, took a breath and started at last, dabbing the make up on under his eye.

Finally, they were both quiet.

He gently worked the primer into the corner of his eye, then blended down just onto the cheek bone, while the blonde looked up at the ceiling with green eyes that changed every so often like turns of a kaleidoscope.

Now he was actually this close, the thing that struck him was how good he smelt. He must have showered, sat there now in faded jeans and a grey T-shirt, smelling like a field of flowers, or  like strawberries and melon, like those cups of chopped fresh fruit that you got with a plastic spoon from the chiller in the coffee shop at college, when you had a hangover.

‘Close your eyes a mo...’

He put some primer on his eyelids, picked up a brush and started to work it softly into his deep sockets.

The other thing was his skin. However reluctant he was to admit it, it was impressive. Fine, and poreless, just few hormone pimples on the T-line, he guessed his age around twenty. And then the glorious 3D effect that only freckles can bring, so you feel you’re looking into a sea of gold.

He sat back. He wouldn’t use primer on that, just some sheer foundation with uv protection and bronzer. Nude lips, he swallowed, shimmer on his eyes and eyeliner gel. Looked back at his jawline again.

He would need to blend down his throat.

He grimaced, he should have already thought of this. Rookie error.

‘Can you take your T-shirt off?’

‘And careful!’ he warned as the blond reached back pulling it up over his shoulder and off over his head.

It wasn’t a hot day, maybe it was where they were sitting with the sun coming in through the window pane, but the temperature in the room seemed to suddenly soar. And that fruit cup smell, now there was something sharp and tangy about it, making his mouth water when it was still hours to lunch.

He noticed he was wearing a chain, it seemed the safest thing to look at. There was a ring on it; and then he saw the writing. ‘True Love Waits.’

He blinked. He’d never seen one before, but he knew what it was instantly.

It was so unexpected.

And then the things about Robert that had jarred all at once seemed to make more sense; the awkward chat up lines.

His mind flashed back to breakfast; so when the blond had said, ‘That’s for a special occasion,’ he wasn’t joking; he’d actually meant it!

Robert had raised his hand around the ring,  his eyes watching Aaron’s face.

He thought about saying something -  something along the lines of... Look, I don’t judge, alright? Whatever people choose to do, or not to do, as long as it feels right for you and doesn’t hurt anyone else. But somehow he couldn’t quite say them aloud.

‘You’ll need to take it off.’ He gestured vaguely in the direction of the chain. ‘Maybe keep it in your pocket?’ he added gently.

He watched his long fingers move to the catch of the chain, then open it.

Of course he was still a dick. It wasn’t as if the ring made him a better person, or a worse person.

But it did make him a more complicated person.

And then Robert had turned again towards him, holding the ring out.

‘Will you take it for me? I won’t be able to wear it on the shoot, and I need someone to trust with it,’ he said. ‘Can I trust you with it?’

Aaron swallowed.

‘Course you can, course!’

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Come Into the Water (14/15)

Waking up mid-morning scorches what’s left of her heart. Still alone, still herself, she leaves the sheets be and decides a walk into the city center will make her feel more alive, if only for a moment. While she’s there, she’ll get some breakfast. Maybe talk to people other than her neighbors or Ava. It’s the sort of thing her therapist would probably recommend. That’s what she thinks about as her feet carry her across pavement and to a little bakery whose morning crowd has waned by the time weekday hits further than the start of work for most. No line bars her way when she orders a croissant and a coffee, and no one crowds around her when she sits at a small table by herself. Solitude, of a different sort than she experiences at the beach, washes over her as she eats and wonders.

Her mind pulls her in a thousand different directions, fights for her attention at each corner in spite of how she can scarcely concentrate on one. The aggressive pod which seeks to cause nothing but harm. Ava and her injuries. Noah and his mothers who love him the way mothers are supposed to love. All things need her consideration, and instead of offering it, Sarah merely takes bites of her croissant until there’s nothing but crumbs dusting the paper bag it came in and a greasy film clinging to her fingertips. Then, with nothing left to do, she wonders around the shops properly for the first time since her initial exploration on the day she saw her local therapist for the very first time.

There aren’t really any chain stores. Everything is locally owned. There’s a couple clothing shops, a grocery store, and then mostly specialty wares that draw her eye. A glass craftsman, a candle maker, a seamstress, a woodcarver. People who’ve dedicated their lives to one skill, just one, and have perfected it in a way Sarah has never been able to perfect anything.

She wanders into the local book shop, a secondhand store which is rife with old oak shelves and books with cracked spines from being loved very much. For lack of something better to do, she looks through the maze of titles, organized by genre, and winds up in the nonfiction section. Fingertips trace hardcovers, glance embossed names, until she reaches a book which does not seem to have been officially published. Curiosity has her taking it from its place and flipping it open. Everything is hand written in swirling black ink, accompanied by sketches Sarah recognizes easily. Mermaids. Makos, more specifically with their stiff fins and sharp teeth and dark eyes. There are paragraphs upon paragraphs about them alongside bullet points and questions. It’s too much to read all at once right now, but it’s a book which might be worth buying. She flips it over and finds no price, but begins searching for the checkout counter just in case. She has so many questions that perhaps she’ll earn answers to.

When Sarah finally finds the counter, manned by a woman with grey-streaked curls and a resting smile on her face even before noticing Sarah there with a book tucked under one of her arms. She doesn’t say a word, but she does straighten up and gesture toward the book with a smile.

“I’d like to buy it,” Sarah says, setting it on the counter. “Please.”

The woman still doesn’t say anything, but points to the cash register and mocks a question mark with one of her fingertips. When Sarah hesitates, the woman points to her own ears and shakes her head. It strikes her, then. Deaf. She nods and pushes the book closer before grabbing her wallet and reaching for her plastic. 

After a moment of examination, the woman gives Sarah a sympathetic look and puts the book beneath her counter. She hits her two flat palms against each other in an x and then points at the register. Not for sale. Frustrated, Sarah has no choice but to nod and find her way out. She should have taken a closer look at what was in there before trying to buy it, since she was unsure whether or not it was for sale in the first place. Too late now, though, and she finds her way out of the store in favor of continuing to explore downtown. There’s a jewelry store she goes into which specializes in that which comes from the sea. Shells polished into beads and pearls strung together hang in the window alongside blown up photographs of diamond inlays. Truly, it is a store designed for pretty things. Sarah doesn’t know why she goes inside, but feels she has no choice otherwise. 

There seems to be no one at the front counter, but everything is behind locked glass cases. Some rings, some necklaces. Shells and diamonds and rubies and shark teeth. Everything is so pretty, and Sarah has to make a conscious effort not to put her fingers on the glass and leave behind prints.

Everything is beautiful, but her eyes land on a particular necklace in a case of its own, elevated with a plaque beneath it. The chain is gold, mostly polished, and beaded with mussel shells like Ava gave her and small teeth like the makos have. It almost unsettles her, but it’s so pretty. Her eyes wander down to the plaque.

In 1945, the Rhodes family extended this necklace as a peace offering for the local mermaid pod. However, it was rejected by the increasingly isolationist pod, found among the tidepools. Shortly thereafter, a body washed up on the shore. Her teeth were added to the necklace and it has been preserved as a peace offering on hold ever since. Since this initial offering, any contact with the mermaids have been isolated incidents. In more recent years, mermaids have been seen watching local environmental teams and playing in the water.

“I don’t recognize you, are you new in town?”

The voice startles her and Sarah looks around for the source, finding it in a petite woman with a sleek bob standing by one of the other counter. Something about her face is familiar, but she can’t put her finger on it as she steps away from the display.

“I am, I’ve uh-” she clears her throat, “I’ve been here a few months. I’m Sarah. Reese.”

“Claire Rhodes.”

Sarah nods thoughtfully. “Your family made this?”

“My grandfather,” Claire corrects. Sarah studies the shape of her nose. “He had an affair with one of the maids, and made this to try and appease them after. But it didn’t work. The maid he slept with, she- he found her dead not long after. My grandmother took her teeth out and added them.”

That’s awful. But Sarah doesn’t say so, and instead looks back at the necklace carefully, The beautiful peace offering which now has bloodshed on teeth from a carcass. It makes Sarah think, for some reason, about the office and the photos and the way she bled a little onto the carpet. 

“Did you want to buy anything?”

“No, but thank you.”

Still, she thinks about the necklace as she leaves and goes back home. The makos didn’t used to be so angry, it seems. Maybe it was a byproduct of one of them procreating with a human. Then, suddenly, it hits her why Claire Rhodes’ face looked familiar. She has the same nose, the same jaw as one of the mermaids she saw yesterday. One of the men. And he reminds her of the little one who bit her too.

She thinks about it the whole way home, and then down to the water again, and as she rejoins the waning tidepools. Water rushes, and Sarah stares into the foam until she catches movement out of the corner of her eye. Hope bubbles up and, in answer, she sees a flash of blonde hair and then it’s Ava, watching her as she rises from the waves. 

“Ava,” Sarah starts, and doesn’t finish.

She doesn’t finish because Ava comes close and pulls her even closer to kiss her, kiss her like she did in the beginning and Sarah is finally given the opportunity to lose herself in it. Eyes shut, hands falling to Ava’s waist before skin turns to scales. Her hands fit neat, and for a long moment, she buries herself in the feeling. But too soon, Ava pulls back and Sarah can’t help following her for a split second.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. “For interfering with Liv and Maggie.”

Ava shakes her head and smiles, and she’s just so beautiful it hurts. “No, I’m glad you did. Thank you. I just reacted because of the pod. They’re angry.”

“Because of us?”

Although the answer comes hesitantly, it still comes and rings in the air. Yes, it’s because of them. Because they lit their candles on the top of the dunes, because they wanted to bring even a little light to someone who they all love, if not the same way.

Sarah realizes, then, that she truly does love Ava. She loves her, and if possible, would bring her entire life into the ocean just to see her all the time, even more than she already does because she can’t stay away.

“Can we go swimming today?”

Eyes cast down. Fingertips twitch against her face. “We can’t. They’re angry.”

Angry, and yet Ava is still here instead of the sheltered hollow in the cliffside Sarah saw when she was new, and she kisses her again like Sarah is her oxygen. The opposite is, at the very least, unbearably true. Nowhere does Sarah feel more alive and more like a human being than when she sits here with the water eating away at the warmth in her body. There she resides as she is kissed like a dying woman, and as Ava makes her whole.

For these handfuls of moments, she feels safe and secure in Ava’s grasp and the taste of her lips. The ocean breathes life into her, and Sarah takes the chance to keep touching the way she’s considered once or twice. Touching a body that is like her own but different. Not just in imagination, but in reality. Sarah finds it easy to drown in. And then Ava kisses her neck too, and allows hands under her jacket and it just feels like being wanted. Not like her teacher wanted her. No, this feels like being wanted as a person and not an object and she is in love and is loved. And it tastes like freedom.

“Ava,” she breathes, and it warms the air around them.

“Ava,” and the wind blows harder.

“Ava,” and the waves crash louder.

“Ava,” and the sun shines brighter.

“Ava,” and Sarah is alive again.

[thepropertylovers]

Feature Friday with Arnold Ruelas

Happy Friday! How has your week been? This week’s Feature Friday is local to us, right here in Chattanooga! We had so much fun learning about Arnold’s life and getting a peak into what makes him tick. We found ourselves touched & inspired by his story, like how his “Mexican, Catholic, macho” father reacted when Arnold came out to him, how he started his own business, and how he gives back to his community. We think you’ll enjoy getting to know him as much as we did. Take a look below…

Where are you from? I was originally born in southern California and we lived there for a year. My parents and I moved to Mexico for two years and at the age of three we moved to South Carolina. I grew up right near Augusta, GA in a little town called Edgefield, SC!   

Where do you live? Chattanooga, TN

Instagram handle? @arnoldaruelas

Age: 27

What is your favorite place you’ve ever travelled to and why? I got the chance to travel to the Dominican Republic last summer and it was the best mix of relaxation/adventure. My friend Victoria and I went to Punta Cana on an all inclusive 7 day besties trip. We got the chance to go on a sailboat out to the island where they filmed Pirates of the Caribbean 2 and had a local dominican lunch and took a speedboat back to the resort. We drove dune buggies through the city and stopped at a cave to jump into a 30+ foot deep cave pool. It was so dark and so cold but so worth it! We had the best tans ever and had all the drinks and food! 10/10 would recommend it to anyone!

What made you want to come out? For me it was something that had been building up for a while and one day I just had the urge to scream it out from the top of a building! So I basically did, but via some phone calls and not off the top of a building. I had felt for so long like I had been living a double life and just needed to experience what truly being Arnold was like. I saw friends around me being so happy being gay and open and I thought “I want that for myself”. And I also knew that by coming out I could probably help someone in my same situation.

“…all I could say was ‘Dad I’m sorry but I like men, I’m gay.’ He paused and said ‘Arnold I raised you, I knew.’ And I let out the biggest sigh of relief!”

What was your coming out experience like? I was 20 years old, living in Nashville at the time with my best friend. I was home visiting friends and family and just knew that it was going to happen that weekend. I was in the car with my mom driving to the grocery store I believe, and just had the urge to just look at her and say it. So I did, I looked at her and said “Mom, I don’t like women, I like men. And I mean sexually.” She took a moment and said “Arnold, I love you regardless, I just want grandkids and our bloodline to continue on.” I am an only child so she thought me not having a wife in the future meant she wouldn’t have grandkids. I assured her she would still get grandkids and since then she has not stopped hounding me about it! I couldn’t look my dad in the face and say it so I called him on my 6 hour drive back to Nashville. My father is a mexican, catholic, macho man so I was terrified as to how he would react. I was crying on the phone before he even answered. When he picked up all I could say was “Dad I’m sorry but I like men, I’m gay.” He paused and said “Arnold I raised you, I knew.” And I let out the biggest sigh of relief! After that I told my closest friends and they were all honestly happy that I finally came out, I swear they were taking bets as to when I would do it!'

What did you learn about yourself in the coming out process? I learned that I am stronger than I was telling myself. Growing up in school I was bullied and questioned for “possibly being gay” and would try so hard to hide the real me. When I did come out I decided this is my time and I need to blossom into Arnold. Since that day I have not cared about conforming myself to be someone that society accepts.

Have you faced any backlash since coming out? How do you deal with it? Thankfully I can say that I have not dealt with backlash. It has been the complete opposite for me. I’ve been surrounded by the most encouraging friends and family that have pushed me to become my true self after coming out. There have been little occasions that I can recall where someone made a comment or two about my sexuality but I’ve brushed it off because I know it’s not something that I can personally control.

“When I [finally] did come out, I decided this is my time and I need to blossom into Arnold. Since that day I have not cared about conforming myself to be someone that society accepts.”

Are you religious? Why or why not? Can I answer this one with a yes and a no?! Growing up I was raised Catholic and was at Spanish mass every Saturday with my parents. We were very involved in volunteering and helping out within the church. I do believe in God, but haven’t always agreed with some of the practices of the Catholic church. Being gay and being a Christian for some people sounds crazy but I truly believe God created me and I’ve seen him work first hand in my life.

You started your own fashion styling business! How did that come about? Yes, I did! Right out of high school I started working in fashion retail. Started out part time not knowing what exactly I was doing if we are being honest. Slowly worked my way up and became a retail store manager within a few years. During the process I explored my creative side with wardrobing. I loved seeing outfits come together and seeing it bring joy to my clients. Soon I became known within the company I worked with for my styling capabilities and started getting a following of clients that would book appointments with me! I finally left retail exactly a year ago (Happy Anniversary to me!) and decided to pursue my love of styling and take it out of the retail jungle. Earlier this year I started the process of starting my business by making a few business cards, telling friends about what I do and letting it spread via word of mouth. I’ve been blessed to have met some amazing clients and have them trust me with their wardrobes! I help them with anything from cleaning out their current wardrobe, adding staple pieces, taking them shopping or shopping for them, and recently have been working with photographers and other businesses to style photo shoots! So many great things are in the work for next year and I am excited to see where this new business journey takes me!

What would you say to someone who wants to start their own business? I would 100% say that if it’s something that you are passion about then go ahead and take the leap! It’s so much better to take the plunge than to live the rest of your life thinking “What if?”. Starting your own business can be scary, I know for me I left the only career I knew to pursue my business and I knew I would most likely financially struggle the first year to get it up and running. There’s been some weeks that have been tougher than others but I’ve pushed through because I’ve made it this far and there’s so much more to come. I would also suggest taking the time to make a detailed business plan with a timeline of goals for yourself. Give yourself something to work towards and strive for!

You are very active in the local community. How has giving back impacted your life? What are some ways people can give back to their communities? This year I was asked to be a celebrity dancer in our local event called Dare to Dance and it was such an amazing and humbling experience! The event resembles the hit TV show Dancing with the Stars and all the contestants raise money for the local Kidney Foundation. I specifically was raising money for the Medical Equipment Program to help patients buy anything from eyeglasses to a wheelchair to blood pressure cuffs. I was able to actually meet some of the patients that received some of the money and it was a reminder that my “problems” were not nearly as bad as I thought. It made me thankful for where I am in life, even though sometimes I want to be so much further ahead. Also thankful for the opportunity to be able to give back to the community that opened their arms to me 4+ years ago when I first made the move to Chattanooga. There are many ways to give back to your community that are free and can make such an impact to someone in need. I would recommend getting online and searching local organizations in your area and see what volunteering opportunities there may be. Especially with it being the holiday season there are so many opportunities to help!

Who is your biggest inspiration and why? I would have to say my father. That man is an inspiration to so many people around him. He and my mother moved to the states in their very early 20’s knowing maybe 4 people in the city of Sun Valley, CA where I was born. He worked for 15+ years as a ranch manager on a cattle farm and saved up his money to buy his own 30 acre property to start his own farm. About 5 years ago he started his own construction company along with still running his farm. That man works sun up to sun down 6-7 days a week and never complains. He knows the true meaning of working hard to get to where you want in life and I look up to him for that. I strive to be as hard-working and wise as he is.

[hillywooddestiel]

The Road to Recovery

Characters: Sam x reader, Dean

Warnings: fluff, little angst, injury, Sam being a lil awkward muffin

Word count: 2.1k

@ohmyjack asked:

I was wondering if you could make a sam request where the reader is hurt and sam is taking care of them and he keeps being there as she slowly heals from a shot wound during a hunt. As they spend more time together then they end up admittint their feelings for one another. Maybe some cute fluff or a kiss

A/N: Hello! I guess I’ve been neglecting spn of late so this took dune time to get into. At first I hated it but then I finally finished it and you know what, I actually quite like it so I hope you all do to. Sorry about being a little MIA but exams and stuff ya know? xx Masterlist

Story:

Your entire torso feels like it’s on fire, burning from the inside out with the majority of the pain coming from your left hand side. You groan audibly as you open your eyes, feeling the urge to throw up.

“Hey hey hey, no. You need to rest.” Sam runs over to the bed, gently holding you down to the bed by your shoulder.

“What happened?” Your mouth is dry but Sam is on it, holding a straw to your mouth. It’s a strange feeling, drinking whilst lying down but you’re mostly just thankful for the much needed hydration.

“To put it simply, you got shot and also hit your head. One of the vamps had a gun and jumped out at you. There was nothing anyone could have done to stop it. You didn’t lose too much blood and we got the bullet out but you have a pretty nasty shot wound and probably a concussion.” You appreciate his honesty: you don’t care for cushioning the blow of bad information, it only makes the truth so much harder to hear.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” You gasp, wincing as a wave of pain sparks through your body.

“Dean had to go, got another case with Jody, but he left the car. I thought I’d let you rest up for a few days then we could go to the bunker.” You can’t see him exactly, being stuck on your back, but his tone is comforting.

Day one and two are a major struggle. Sam brings you soup and spoon feeds you like a child, propping your head up on several solid pillows. You smile awkwardly at each other, quickly running out of things to talk about. It’s kind of odd but, you’ve never actually spent that much time with Sam alone. There’s been the odd hunt here and there with Dean, the three of you working together. He seems like he wants to talk, opening his mouth ever so slightly, he just never finds the words.

Day three, Sam helps you to the Impala. He looks to you for permission before lifting your shirt to check the stitches are still intact, the both of you blushing furiously. The drive is long and you nod off more than once.

“Y/N… Y/N… you awake?”

“What?!” You jolt awake, a side effect of hunting, growling in discomfort at the pain caused by sudden movement.

“Careful! Sorry, I shouldn’t have woke you up. We’ve arrived though, at the bunker.”

“Great!” I smile. Sam doesn’t respond, he just stares at me for a good while like the adorably awkward nerd that he is. “Should we maybe go inside?”

“Right, yeah… sorry…” Sam hurries out of the car, opening your door before you can even reach for the handle and helping you into the war room. He lowers you onto the couch, muttering apologies every time you let out a gasp or wince. He’s been very attentive, looking after you, and you’re very grateful for it. Who’s to say what would have happened to you if you’d been hunting solo? Also, you highly doubt Dean would be such a good nurse.

Sam gives you one of the many spare rooms, closer to his own so that he can keep a close eye on you, finding an old wheelchair in the storerooms for you to use. It’s a little wobbly and one of the wheels keeps squeaking but it’ll do the job. It’s when the lights go out that things take a sour turn.

It’s late. Sam has long since gone to bed, satisfied that you’re sound asleep and okay. Your skin is coated in a film of sweat and your muscles won’t stop spasming but you aren’t awake. Instead, you’re mind keeps showing you twisted images: the people you couldn’t save, their horrid deaths on repeat, their blood running across the floor. Sam comes running into your room, summoned by the pained sounds he hears, in his pajamas with his hair all tousled. A quick check of your forehead temperature with the back of his hand indicates a high fever. A little panicked, he peels back your t-shirt and uncovers your wound, bracing himself for the worst. It’s gone a strange, almost black colour and veins around it run darker- you’ve got an infection. He doesn’t want to leave, for fear of your condition getting worse, but he has to; he needs to get some antibiotics and quickly.

Fumbling with the needle, Sam manages to pierce the bottle and fill the syringe with penicillin.

“Sam…” you groan breathily, grabbing a hold of the bed sheets.

“I’m here. You’ll feel better in a second, just breathe for me.” He tries to calm you in your partially conscious state. Meanwhile, he is busy searching for a good vein on your arm to inject you with the one thing that will really help right now. Upon finding one, he wastes no time in inserting the needle and injecting the fluid. The effect isn’t immediate. It takes a long while and a little praying from Sam before you start to calm down. Sam sighs with relief when your regular breathing pattern returns, unaware that he is now holding tightly onto your hand.

You wake up slowly, your brain muddled with sleep and nausea. The room is cool, the air conditioning on full blast making goosebumps rise on your skin. It’s quite chilly actually. Except for one hand. One of your hands is oddly very warm. Your eyes take a moment to adjust but the sight before you is not what you were expecting. Sam is snoring, his head resting on his arm and one hand clutching onto yours. You don’t want to wake him up so you decide to choose your eyes again and get a few more hours of sleep.

“Morning!” You greet Sam brightly, wheeling into the kitchen down the makeshift ramp made of two planks.

“Good morning! You feeling better? You kind of scared me last night.” He cuts up strawberries on the chopping board, not looking at you.

“I did? What happened?”

“You had a fever and I had to give you penicillin. I think you should be fine now…” Sam confesses, pushing a plate of fruit over to you- the food is always healthy when Sam is in charge.

“Oh… well thank you, for saving me. And for looking after me, I don’t mean to be a bother.” You poke at your breakfast with a fork, mushing up the banana slices.

“You could never be a bother Y/N…”

“Um… thanks…” you smile shyly, cheeks flushing. “… I think I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Do you need a hand?”

“No! No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.” You answer too quickly at first but recover quickly. Sam notably flinches a little, failing to hide it with a fake cough. It wasn’t your intention to scare him but the situation is getting a little strange.

By the end of the second week, you’re back on your feet. You find yourself grabbing a hold of whatever is nearest to help you along, sometimes that ends up being Sam, but you’re more or less recovered. Despite the rocky start, you and Sam have actually grown closer. He’s funny, incredibly smart, loves to goof around (much to your surprise) and he’s very attentive when caring for you even though you are nearly back to full health. Hunting will definitely be off the table for maybe another month or so- just to be safe- but you can’t wait to get back to driving out on the open road again. It’s been fun, having the stability of returning to the same bed every night and someone to talk to. The company is what you think you’ll miss the most. Hunting can be the most lonely job in the world, up against the hidden horrors from literal hell all alone. Sam would make a really good partner- in more ways than one.

Also, at the end of the second week, Dean returns from his hunts with Jody. He pulls you into a bear hug immediately, happy to see you back on your feet and feeling much better. Sam makes a fuss at first, warning him to be careful of your injuries, but Dean just waves him off saying you can handle yourself.

“Chill out Sammy, I know you love to play nurse but Y/N is a big girl and doesn’t need you fussing.”

“Dean!” Sam groans at his brother’s mockery while you just laugh.

“Did he get his special thermometer out?”

“He did, yeah.” you admit, not wanting to torment Sam further even though it is funny to see him squirm.

“Dean!”

“Alright alright! It’s good to see you both.”

“It’s good to see you too Dean.” You hug again, unaware of Sam shooting daggers at his brother.

“Hey, can we talk?” Sam pokes his head around your door late at night, startling you a little.

“Yeah of course. Is everything alright?” Sam comes in and sits beside you on your bed before speaking.

“You’re pretty much healed now, right?”

“Yes…” you respond unsure. He’s trying to gently kick you out, you can tell.

“I… We… Dean and I already have another case and… well, since you’re feeling better I thought-”

“You thought it’s time for me to go. It’s fine Sam, you don’t have to wrap everything in bubble wrap.” You finish the sentence for him. And even though you kept telling yourself that it was going to happen, you can’t help but sound bitter about the whole situation. “Thank you for looking after me and saving my life. I’ll get my things and be out by morning.” You move to get up but he grabs your arm quickly.

“That's not what I was gonna ask at all. I want you to come with us.” He reveals, skimming the pad of his thumb over your clenched hands.

“Wait what?”

“You're a good hunter, I want you to come with me- us.” Sam saves himself, but not fast enough for you not to notice.

“Oh… Well I guess it would be good to get back out there. I won’t be able to do much though.” You ponder, hand ghosting your injury.

“I get that. I would never put you in harms way Y/N if you weren’t ready. But, you’ve been down here for a long time and it would be good for you to get out for a while. You can still work a laptop.” Sam reasons. You remain quiet for a moment, weighing up your options. You could stay and be bored, binge watching ANTM and eating pizza. Or, you could join Sam and Dean on this hunt and help them. Plus spending some more time with Sam wouldn’t hurt.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

Sam pulls you into an unexpected hug, wrapping his arms around your whole body. At first, you’re a little too shocked to do anything but his warmth relaxes you and you find yourself hugging back. Face buried in the crook of his neck, you can smell him with each inhalation. His cologne is musky with a hint of vanilla. It mixes with his conditioner, minty and like tea tree, to make the scent that is Sam Winchester. You can feel him holding on tightly and breathing in your own perfume. He finally starts to release you from his hold, the two of you backing away slowly from each other until you’re looking into his hazel eyes. Something primal takes over within you, and within Sam. You launch forwards, crashing your lips into his with such passion that you surprise even yourself. Sam responds equally as passionately, his hand getting lost in your hair while the other supports your lower back, almost pulling you into his lap. You wrap your own arms around the base of his neck and angle your head more to the side to get even closer if that’s possible. The two of you only break away to come up for air.

“Woah…” Sam gasps, his breathing laboured.

“Well that was... “

“Surprising.” He laughs, still yet to catch his breath back.

“Yeah!” You laugh breathily, “About time though.”

“Yeah!”

“I suppose now would be a good time to admit that I might like you. A lot.” You look to his face shyly, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Well that’s a relief to know it’s not one sided. I like you too Y/N.” He smiles in the most adorable way, eyes not leaving your lips. This time it’s Sam who leans in first, gently this time, and kisses you softly and slowly like all there is left in the world is you and him. Well, you, him and Dean catching a glimpse of the two of you and rolling his eyes so hard they almost get stuck. Took you two long enough!

[comebacknow]

Even In The End

The Maze Runner Valentine’s Week

Day 2: Rare Pair Appreciation Day – Newt and Teresa (platonic)

**A/N: Based off this post. Thank you guys for that post, it gave me feels. Hope you don’t mind that I ran with it.  @asrasjulian @overglorified-trash @agent-sapphire @00250 

Angst ahead. I never see any mention of Newt and Teresa interacting with each other.  I realized I needed it.

***

Teresa slowly lifted herself on weak arms, a harsh dry cough sputtering from her.  She gasped a breath, then another. When she was finally able to take a full breath she opened her eyes, steadied her breathing. 

Sand. That’s what she was on, her hands - scarred - and knees sunken at different levels trying to steady her shaking body.  Another cough, a swallow, a blink, a breath.  She lifted her head, looking forward.

The sand stretched on for miles ahead of her, and in the distance there was laughter, there was music.  Tom.. she thought, or perhaps breathed.  She blinked, she remembered. 

No, Tom won’t be here. No one would. 

On shaking limbs and an empty head, she stood.  Balance, right foot sinking deeper in the sand.  A stumble forward, an arm outstretched.  A blink.  Focus, Teresa, focus. 

Another deep breath.  

And then.

A step forward, another shaking step, another arm tossed out for balance as the beach lurched sideways.  Steady, Teresa.

As her boots found their steadied place in the sand, her arms finally relaxing - albeit shakily - at her sides, her breathing a bit calmed, she made her way closer and closer. The laugher louder, the music growing, movements and figures taking shapes.  People, there are people. 

A quicker step, a half jog - no, just walk, Teresa. You don’t have to rush anymore. Just walk.

“Hey there.”

Teresa blinked her eyes at the girl next to her.  Dark skin, curled black hair, a kind face sprinkled with freckles.  “Welcome to the Safe Haven.”

“What?” Teresa breathed out shaking her head. “I don’t understand.”

The girl clapped a small hand on her shoulder.  “Let me rephrase.  Our safe haven.  Looks like you didn’t luck out the first time around, eh?” the girl laughed out.

Teresa blinked at her.  “Is this... is this the afterli-?”

“Sorta. We don’t like to make it that dramatic. Paradise, works.” A toothy smile and then, “let me show you arou-.”

“Teresa?”

Teresa turned toward the low voice, a hint of a rasp to it.  She recognized that face.  Memories swirled just out of reach.

“It’s Teresa, right?” the boy slowly stepped forward, reaching out with a thin dark hand.  “Do you remember me? The Glade? It’s Jeff.”

Teresa emptily lifted a hand as the memories slowly dripped back in.  

“First time we met you were getting out of a coma, too.  Looks like time has a funny way of repeating itself, huh?” the boy laughed, dropping her hand.  “Sorry to see you here.”

Teresa scanned his face, a long scratch deep across his right cheek. “Are the others all here?”

Jeff shrugged. “More than I’d have hoped, to be honest.  But yeah, they’re here.”  He looked over his shoulder and back to her. “Come on.” He turned to the girl, then.  “Thanks, Rachel.  I’ll take it from here.”

The other girl nodded and walked off.  Teresa swallowed, blinked, stepped forward in Jeff’s footprints.  “We could get you cleaned up as much as possible, but you’ll still have those scars.  Not much to do about them,” he chuckled, gesturing to his face.  “Here we are.”

Teresa tore her eyes from the water to look forward.  Face after familiar face, memory after familiar memory.  

“Hey! Look who made it!” The music slowed to a stop as the boy on drums stood nodding at her.  

“Alby...” she started, but stopped abruptly.

“Welcome to the Safe Haven,” the boy continued somewhere to the right of her vision.  “A bunch of us are here so you should...” his voice faded, everyone silencing.

Teresa’s eyes stayed locked on the black eyes across the circle.

The lanky boy stood still as a familiar, younger boy slid off his shoulders, slowly backing a step away.  She knew Chuck’s face, but couldn’t focus on him, could only stare at the black plated eyes, the black veined face ahead.

“You...” came from scarred lips, stained with venom that had been scrubbed off, but never fully gone.  “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Newt,” Alby’s voice came. “Newt, easy. We talked about this.”

The lanky boy took slow, tilted steps forward toward her.

Teresa stared ahead, gaping, until words finally came.  “No, no you were supposed to make it.  You were supposed to be on the berg.”

In a blink, those black eyes were inches from hers.  “Why are you here?”

“Newt, we saved you.  Tom is alive. He saved you!”

The unblinking eyes stared back at her, a slight tilt of the boy’s head.

“Doesn’t seem like it, does it?” 

“We saved you,” Teresa shook her head. A stuttered step back. “I got him on the Berg for you.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” A step forward.

“Newt.”

“Tommy loved you. You were supposed to be with him!”

“Newt, take it easy!” Voices called out around them, others slowly taking steps forward to the pair.

“Why did you leave him?” Black venom landed somewhere on her neck, on her shirt, on her hands.  

Suddenly a hand was at Newt’s chest and Alby was between them.  “Newt, buddy. Take a walk, we talked about this.”

Those black eyes stayed on hers for another minute before he turned, walking off.

“What...What happened? I thought I was fast enough? I thought we made it?” Teresa stuttered out, heat from the fire licking at her burns.  No pain came. Not anymore.  

“It’s not your fault,” Alby spoke quietly from her side.  “You didn’t do it.”

“He didn’t make it,” she breathed. “He was supposed to make it.”

“I like to think we all were,” Alby shrugged. “Can’t help fate. It had other things in store for us.  We’ve just gotta make do.”

“Is he still...?” she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

Alby exhaled next to her.  “Sometimes.  I guess it doesn’t fully go away when you get here.  He’s better, he can’t completely gone here.  But it comes and goes.  Winston, too.  Ben.  Others.”

Teresa shook her head. “It’s not supposed to be like this.”

“Well, it is.  The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can start to accept this place for what it is.”

She looked over to him, past him to the younger boy next to him. A small smile appeared on her face.  “Hey, Chuck.”

The boy’s round face turned to hers with a smile.  “Hey Teresa.  Sorry to see you here, but no offense, I’d rather it you than Thomas.”

She laughed, for the first time since she could remember.  “Me too, Chuck.”

Silence settled between the three before Teresa finally stood.  “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Boots pressed in the sand, a soft crunch beneath them echoed by the waves on her left.  The water blended in with the dark sky.  Ahead, a barely visible silhouette of a boy, head turned down, a lock of hair hanging from his forehead. 

“He loved you too, you know?”

The back of the boy’s sandy blonde hair stayed still, facing the dark waves.  

Teresa waited.  Slowly, the boy turned, hand rubbing a small spot on his chest. Though his eyes were plated black, there was a sadness to them, a realness, something human in them.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it in time, Newt.” Teresa exhaled shakily.  “I thought...” she cut her words off.  There was no use in saying what she thought.  She’d thought wrong.

“You were supposed to be with him.”  

She looked up when the boy spoke.  Stilled, waited, listened.

“I knew I could never.  Not the way I was.” His veined hand dropped.  “Not the way I am.”

A swallow.  A burning behind her eyes.

“Minho?”

She blinked, and nodded for him to continue.

“Is Minho with him?”

She nodded slowly, recalling the boy grabbing Tom onto the berg.  “Yes, he’s there. And Brenda. Gally. Frypan.”

Newt nodded.  “Good.  Good.  I never want to see any of them again.”  His voice broke on the last words,  “I never want to see To-,” he stopped.  A choked breath, and then he buckled.

In a moment Teresa’s knees were in the sand, inches from the boy’s.  Newt was hunched over, body arched forward where he knelt.  She put arms around his neck, felt a shudder beneath her hands.  

He pulled himself back from her arms, sitting back on his knees.  The plated black eyes faded, almost to a too dark brown, almost to his original color - though glassy, filmed over, tears dripping their way down faded black veins.  “I couldn’t do it, Teresa. I couldn’t do it.” The words spilled out of him as Teresa clutched his shoulders in front of her.

“I know.”

“I couldn’t let him see me like that.  I thought he’d have you.  I thought he’d have you.” 

“He’s not alone, Newt. He’s not alone.” She squeezed his shoulders.  “He has Minho. He has all of them.”

Newt’s heaving breaths slowed to a steady rhythm again, his eyes clearing from the tears. 

“Hey,” Teresa smiled, dropping her hands into her lap.  “Remember that time, a while back, when we had just escaped WICKED?  Aris jammed the lock on that door and Tom had just made it under?”

A small smile appeared on Newt’s scarred mouth.

A breath. She continued.  “Remember how he flipped Janson off before running?”

“Yeah,” a choked, crack of a laugh came from Newt.  “He did it again when we jumped out of that window.”

“Out of a window?” Teresa raised her brows.

“Yeah,” Newt smiled, staring at a spot in the dark sand. “We had just rescued Minho - or rather, he’d rescued us - and Tommy’s brilliant idea was to jump out of a thirty story window into freezing cold water below.” A sniffled laugh.

Teresa exhaled on a laugh of her own.  “That sounds like him.”

“He flipped Janson off then, too.”

“Seems like a signature move.”

“Yeah.”

A breath.

A memory. 

A laugh.

Teresa tilted her head.  “Remember in the Scorch?  Walking up those sand dunes toward those mountains?”

“Those damned mountains,” Newt laughed.

“You hated that idea.”

“I did,” Newt looked up now, any trace of tears gone.  “I thought it was the dumbest idea I’d heard and this is after Tommy dragged us into a maze with Grievers.”

“Tom had a knack for dumb ideas.”

“He did,” Newt nodded.  “But we always followed through on them.”

Teresa shrugged, pulling her legs from beneath her and repositioning herself a bit more comfortably.  “That’s because we always knew he’d get us out in the end.”

Newt nodded and then stopped, tilting his head, brows coming together in a question over his black eyes.  “Did we, though?”

They shared another loud bark of a laugh, letting it echo across the waves, back to camp on the other side of the beach.

“I suppose not,” Teresa smiled.

“I guess you agree to some bloody stupid plans when you love someone,” Newt’s laugh faded, his eyes darkening a tint.

“I guess you do.”

A breath.

Another memory.

Another breath.

“He loved you, too, you know.” Teresa repeated.  “With everything he had.”

Newt only nodded, eyes locked on the sand between them.

“Even if he never said it.”

His eyes shifted to her’s now.  His head tilted up, looking at her straight on.  “I know he did.” A look of confusion came over his face. “He told me every day.”

Teresa tilted her head.

“Just like he told you every day,” Newt nodded to her.  “He told me when he thanked me for making him a runner.  When he kept his eyes on me as we ran though the maze, making sure I kept up with my stupid leg,” he laughed.

Teresa smiled at the way the boy’s eyes started to lighten, the faded darkened veins softening in the moonlight.

He continued.  “He told me when he helped me climb up those stupid dunes, and then, of course, back down them.”

“He told me,” Teresa smiled at her memory, “when you all came in to rescue me. Before the Scorch, I mean.  When he pulled me out of that testing room.  And when he sent me down that zip line before him, do you remember that?”

Newt laughed.  “We were so worried when he didn’t come after you.”

“I really thought he was still in that building.”

“Nah, I knew he wasn’t.” Newt shook his head.  “He was just being a hero, as usual.”

“How about when we found him at that party?”

“Yeah! How about that?” Newt tosses his hands in the air, before leaning back on them. “We’re out here running around the desert, fighting off cranks and he’s out here partying it up with them.”

Teresa barked out another laugh, curling over her knees where she sat.  She lifted her head back up, wiping her eyes.  “I swear, every time I reunited with him, one of us was unconscious.”

“Do you remember that time Jorge stole that truck - Bertha?”

“You fought so hard for shotgun, I thought you were going to take a swing at Minho.”

“I almost did,” he laughed.  “Since that day any time I’ve called shotgun nobody’s argued. Not once.”

Teresa threw her head back in a laugh, basking in it.  

A breath.

Silence.

Teresa opened her mouth.  Closed it.  Opened it.  “I’m sorry, for the way I did things.”

Newt stayed still, black eyes focused on his hands.

“I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“You were,” he offered.  “In one way or another.”

An inhale.

An exhale.

“Thank you,” Newt’s eyes found hers, “for saving him.  For getting him out.”

Teresa nodded.

“I know you loved him, too."

Teresa swallowed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save you.”

Newt shrugged. A sniffle. His head tilted back to look at the stars, and Teresa found herself doing the same.  “Tommy saved me every day.  Even in the end.”

Teresa smiled at the stars.  “Yeah, I guess he saved us all.  Even in the end.”

He sat on the edge of the shore.  He could still hear their laughter in his memories, even over the sounds of the waves, coming toward him but never quite reaching him.

He tilted his head back looking at the stars, grateful for every moment with them, every laugh, every hand grasped in darkness, names whispered, eyes locked.  They had both saved him.  Even in the end.

[notionsofasimpleton]

Call Out

As I laid in bed staring up at the blank ceiling, I glanced over at my watch on the nightstand, the hands read just past 7 o’clock. My shift for work started in an hour and a half which meant I had exactly 30 minutes if I was going to call out without receiving an incident. I got up to take a piss, then laid back down. The sun was shining through the blinds and I pulled the blanket over my head. I closed my eyes tight and began thinking of a good excuse to tell my boss. “You see Mr.Itzkoff, I just think it’d be better if I took the day off today, unless you’d like to risk the chance of seeing me off myself in the lunch room. In that case I can be there in an hour.” No, that’s no good. “Mr. Itzkoff, I’ve told you of my great-grandmother haven’t I? Yes, the one turning 86 in November. Well, you see she’s not feeling too well and in situation’s such as this, it’s better to be safe than sorry, so I won’t be coming in…” No that’s no good either, best not to put that into the universe. I checked my phone and it was five minutes before 7:30, I made the call hesitantly. The phone began to ring as I tried to find the right words I was going to say. The phone rang over and over, until I finally got the voicemail. “Hello, this is Mr. Itzkoff, unfortunately I cannot get to the phone at the moment, but leave your information and I’ll be sure to give you a call back.” Ah yes, the old voicemail. My nerves settled as I finally found the right words to say, “Yes, Mr. Itzkoff it’s Ritchie, I have some bad news. I woke up this morning to find my tire completely flat. I’m working on the spare right now, but think it would be best if I take the day off to get it fixed. No need to call back, I’ll be in tomorrow.” I pulled the covers back and sat up in bed, suddenly I wasn’t tired with my newfound day off. I thought of all the things I could do. I then got up and took a shower. In 20 minutes I was washed and fully dressed, car keys in hand. I walked out of my apartment, down two levels of stairs and made my way to the car. When I got to my car I sat inside and turned the ignition before the thought came to me, I had no clue where I was going. I checked the time again and it was a little after 8 at this point. I figured I could stop for a coffee. I’m not particularly fond of the area my apartment is in, the traffic can be pretty bad and often times I struggle to find parking. With that being said there is a coffee shop just around the corner. The coffee itself is mediocre at best, but the scones are surprisingly great. After pulling into the parking lot and making my way inside I was greeted with a line to the door. Businessmen and women lined up in their suits and business skirts, meanwhile I was wearing a wrinkled t shirt and jeans. You could sense the feeling of impatience among the group of them as a few swayed back and forth, stealing glances at their watches, then at the cashier in the front. I had an odd sensation knowing I would be in their shoes had I not called in this morning. After about 15 minutes I was next in line, met by the cute brunette who always worked Mondays. She often wore her hair up and strands would fall just over her round glasses, today was no different. “The usual today Ritchie?” she asked. I had been coming here consistently the last three months that she had come to know my name. Unfortunately, with no real reason to ask other than self-interest, I had not yet learned hers. I nodded my head as she once again scribbled my name on the paper cup. Oddly enough she always misspelled my name, forgetting the T and instead scribbling it as R-I-C-H-I-E. It was nothing worth complaining about or bringing up, but I always silently read the letters off when she handed it to me. She rang up my order and I noticed the price was slightly less than normal. “The coffee is on me today,” she said. I gave a smile before finally asking, “Thanks! By the way, what’s your name?” I asked. “It’s Elizabeth,” She said. I repeated the name in my head, it was fitting. “I appreciate it Elizabeth, I hope you have a good day,” I said. I grabbed my order making my way out passed the line that now had built up to the door, thinking to myself how good of an idea it was to call off today. I walked out the door and was met by a cool breeze, I decided to sit on the patio to finish my coffee and scone while I thought what I would do next. Before long I was on the road headed to the library downtown. When I pulled into the parking lot, there were only a few cars and I found a spot right in the front. I got off the car and made my way into the large entrance way, passing a few people along the path. One man asked me for change. “You think you could spare a dollar so I could get something to eat?” he asked. I stopped for a second and was trying to remember how much cash I had in my wallet. I had just gotten paid last week so I knew there was larger bills inside and to avoid getting stiffed into giving a twenty, I avoided my wallet altogether. I reached for the couple bills crumbled in my front pocket I saved on coffee earlier. I looked at it once in my hand before handing it to the older man, $2.36. He looked to be in his mid 50s, pulling around a beat up suitcase. “Thank you so much son,” he said. I nodded with a smile and made my way into the library. Whenever I walked into the library there was always a distinctive smell, I could never quite explain it. There was the obvious aroma of old books, but there was also the smell of a place that had been settled into. The library downtown had been open for a little over 20 years from what I could remember, and throughout those years the thousands of people spending their time reading, sleeping, studying, searching, created a scent that was unique to this specific location. I imagine had you went to someplace in Chicago or Boston there would be something quite similar, but with a scent all its own. In most instances when I visit the library I like to have an idea of what I’m looking for, sometimes a list of items in case something I want is checked out, today is a bit different as it just after 10 am and I should be in the office. The thing about creating a list is it keeps you on track, plenty of times I have found myself endlessly wandering isles looking for anything that caught my eye, whether that be titles, names, colors. The mere idea of this made me want to race home to check my own collection and see if there was anything that stood out. Maybe I was subconsciously drawn towards authors with their last name starting with the letter “B”, or book covers that were shades of blue. I thought about what I had on my shelves for a second before refocusing on the shelf in front of me. I was now in the fiction section and was sharing the isle with an elderly woman who couldn’t have been older than 60. She was small framed and if I had to guess, about 4’11. She also had a bob cut, and the tiniest reading glasses. We made eye contact and exchanged a smile. We both hovered over the sections A-B, side stepping and then stepping back. In these short moves I took glances at what she already had in her hand. She was carrying two films and as her tiny hands covered the lettering, I was only able to make out the word “Blues”. I then found something on the shelf that caught my eye, a book titled “The Woman in the Dunes”. I took a look at the blurb on the back of the book and read it closely, from what I could gather it was about a man held captive in a small village. In this time, I noticed the tiny woman was now staring at me, finally she spoke. “Oh I just love that book. I really do hope you decide to check it out, Abe is a wonderful author. There’s also an old film on it as well,” she said. “The story sounds good, but getting a recommendation from someone always makes me feel better about deciding on something. I think I’m going to check it out, thank you!” I said. She gave me a smile and made her way down the next aisle. I checked a few of the different floors in the library, but ultimately only ended up deciding to get the book the tiny woman recommended. When I finally left the library it was just about 12. I had spent close to two hours wandering isles, which was another reminder why I always brought lists. Still, I was satisfied with how my day had started and decided to grab a pizza from Jimmie’s on the way home. A large supreme cooked well done. At this point traffic was starting to pick up, so I was glad to already be making my way home. When I made my way back to the apartment I sat down on the couch and turned on the sports channel. It was a women’s tennis match. I knew very little about tennis, but after settling into the couch and having a slice of pizza, what was on TV mattered very little. Then, one of the women made a dive for the ball, she saved it and was able to recover in time for the next shot. I sat up from the couch and watched the next exchange before the woman who fell sent the ball flying past her opponent. She clinched her fist for a brief moment facing the crowd, then met the other woman at the center to shake hands. There was a post-match interview soon after, but at this point my eyes were now closed and I was dosing off. When I woke up it was just past 6 pm. I was debating going to the grocery story before deciding leftover pizza was going to be the plan for dinner. The rest of the night I lounged around and read the book I had checked out, picking it up 20 minutes or so at a time in between the random chores I was doing. When it got late I took a shower and got ready for bed. I set my alarm for 7:30 again, tomorrow I would be returning to work, but at least it would be Friday I thought. In the morning I woke up and started the coffee pot and did my little routine. I brushed my teeth, watched the morning forecast on the news, and made a light breakfast of two eggs and toast with jam. At 7:55 I was fully dressed in suit and tie with my bag over my shoulder. I made my way out to the front of the apartments and noticed there was a slight overcast, just as the weatherman mentioned on the news. When I got to my car I threw my bag in the trunk and started the car. I sat in the car for a few minutes fiddling with the radio trying to find a good station. I stumbled on 103.5, “I Wish You Love” by Joe Bataan was finishing up as I pulled out the lot. Not even half a block down the neighborhood street before I noticed a strong vibration coming from the front of the car. I pulled over right away and got out, making my way to the passenger side. I couldn’t believe it; my tire was completely flat. Leaning on the hood of my car I loosened my tie, laughing quietly to myself as I thought about what I would tell my boss this time.

[aion-rsa]

Scarlett Johansson and Disney Legal Battle Is About More Than Black Widow

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

It was the shot heard around the internet: Scarlett Johansson, the star of eight Marvel Studios movies and the face of Disney’s biggest summer release, Black Widow, filed suit against Disney over an alleged breach in her contract. The immediate firestorm in the media—and more tellingly on social media—was intense.

Some have likened Johansson’s lawsuit to actors standing up to studios’ viselike control over contracts during Hollywood’s Golden Age (more on that in a bit); others have treated it as tantamount to betrayal of their favorite purveyor of superhero content. But perhaps no reaction was larger than that of Disney itself. While Johansson alleged she extracted “a promise from Marvel that the release of the picture would be a theatrical release”—thereby acting as the bulk of her salary due to the star having a profit participation clause—“[Disney] nonetheless directed Marvel to violate its pledge and instead release the picture on the Disney+ streaming service the very same day it was released in theaters.”

In addition to Disney’s public response being shockingly scathing, it also largely seemed to evade Johansson’s legal assertions. Instead the studio aggressively targeted Johansson’s character, seemingly shaming her for daring to bring up profits during such troubled times.

“The lawsuit is especially sad and distressing in its callous disregard for the horrific and prolonged global effects of the COVID-19 pandemic,” wrote the company which reopened its theme parks in July 2020. The response also went on to note Johansson already earned $20 million in upfront salary on the film.

The intended effects of these criticisms were clearly to vilify a star who headlined Disney’s biggest franchise of the last decade and cast a cloud of suspicion around her in the courtroom of public opinion. Any perusal of Twitter these days will show its effectiveness. Or as a statement from Women in Film, Los Angeles, Reframe, and Time’s Up accurately noted, “[Those criticisms attempt] to characterize Johansson as insensitive or selfish for defending her contractual business rights. This gendered character attack has no place in a business dispute and contributes to an environment in which women and girls are perceived as less able than men to protect their own interests without facing ad hominem criticism.”

The fact that those criticisms have been so effective at swaying public opinion, particularly in the fan community who is largely most concerned with the accessibility of the next Marvel movie, is as disheartening as it is distracting. Because what’s at stake here is more than Johansson’s ability to receive any sort of percentage on the revenue Disney is generating from its $30 “Premier Access” paywall; rather it’s the entire talent pool of the moviemaking industry trying to find out where they stand in a marketplace that is increasingly transitioning to streaming, come hell or high water.

The full ramifications are only starting to become apparent. Or as THR editor Matt Belloni broke in his newsletter over the weekend, after Johansson’s lawsuit, and after Cruella became the first live-action 2021 film that Disney unceremoniously put on Disney+, star Emma Stone is “currently weighing her options” in terms of suing the House Mouse. According to the same source, Emily Blunt might also be considering similar action depending on the current rollout of Jungle Cruise. Meanwhile Dwayne Johnson was conspicuously enthusiastic on social media about Jungle Cruise’s box office performance this morning.

These early cracks in what could quickly become a PR nightmare for Disney signal a battleground that’s been approaching the industry ever since WarnerMedia announced Wonder Woman 1984 would be released in theaters and on HBO Max last Christmas. At the time, Warner Bros. allegedly paid both Gal Gadot and director Patty Jenkins undisclosed eight-figure sums to offset the loss of theatrical profit participation they would’ve earned had Wonder Woman 1984 opened under normal circumstances. However, when WarnerMedia in the same month shocked the industry with the unilateral decision to release their entire 2021 film slate in the day-and-date format simultaneously, the blowback was fearsome.

That’s because in addition to damaging filmmakers’ artistic vision for movies designed specifically for the big screen—Dune director Denis Villeneuve even wrote a passionate op-ed about it—the decision completely upended the way talent earns money off studio films. Yes, this includes stars with $20 million upfront paychecks, but it also affects below-the-line people too.

“It creates a financial nightmare,” Judd Apatow told Variety last year about the now quaint seeming WB/HBO Max deal. “Most people are paid residuals—they’re paid back-end points. What they get out of it for years and years of hard work is usually based on the success of their films. And so now what does it mean to have a movie go straight to streaming? How do they decide what to pay you? Do you have a contract that allows you to negotiate, or is it really just up to them at this point? It raises thousands of questions, which I’m sure are very complicated.”

We’re now seeing those complicated questions spill over into the courtroom. For all the tumult WarnerMedia unleashed by blindsiding their talent with last December, the company has spent months trying to untangle the damage for at least A-list talent, signing undisclosed and fiscally hefty deals with stars and filmmakers ranging from The Suicide Squad to The Little Things. Apparently the studio is still in negotiations with Legendary Pictures for all the money the production company could stand to lose from a muted theatrical release of Dune in October.

But Disney, according to Johansson and her talent representation at CAA, has strikingly not made any such overtures to their A-list talent being blindsided by Disney+ reshuffles. Which in turn raises the question if that’s how they treat Oscar winners like Stone, and longtime franchise stars of billion-dollar Disney franchises like Johansson, how do they treat the below the line people who can’t afford to publicly take this to court?

What we are seeing is a debate over what role the actual creative talent behind the films you love has in profit-making in the 21st century. Disney has been at the forefront among Hollywood studios in cultivating a direct-to-consumer model via Disney+, and yet even when they add a luxurious surcharge like $30 on top of that subscription model, they are treating it as separate from the older system of how talent along all tiers is paid.

So Johansson stars in Black Widow, which has the biggest box office opening since the pandemic began with $80.4 million. But as Disney crowed that same weekend, the studio made another $60 million on Disney+ surcharge fees, which is likely worth more than the $80.4 million box office bow after theaters get their cut—and that $60 million came at the expense of theatrical tickets, particularly when easy access to HD pirated copies of Black Widow are factored in. Hence how even though the Marvel movie opened bigger than F9, the theatrical-only Vin Diesel movie has earned about double what Black Widow did at the global box office.

Currently, Disney is saying Johansson—and by extension anyone else with a residual deal—should not be able to dip into that $60 million revenue from the opening weekend…. even though at least in Johansson’s case she was contractually promised an exclusive theatrical window.

In many ways, this mirrors the 1980s and ‘90s home media boom from first VHS and then DVD. It created a whole new revenue stream for Hollywood in the home media market. As Matthew Belloni has also noted in his latest newsletter, talent agencies like CAA are all too aware of how stars were shut out of the home media market which, for a time, doubled or even tripled studios’ profits. Now the streaming revolution has come, and talent is not keen to see that happen again.

Johansson being a big enough star to actually be the first to refuse to rollover on this is, indeed, reminiscent of Olivia de Havilland in Hollywood’s Golden Age. In 1943, de Havilland was at the end of her seven-year contract with Warner Bros. and a contentious relationship with WB head Jack Warner. Despite becoming a star under the WB system, de Havilland’s biggest successes were when she was loaned out to other studios—as WB controlled her career under an ironclad contract, as was pro forma at the time. Meanwhile in WB movies, de Havilland was often cast as a thankless love interest. As her star stature rose, her willingness to turn down many of these roles grew. As a consequence, Jack Warner suspended de Havilland for six months and, at the end of her contract, revealed the studio expected her to stay on the WB lot for another six months to make up for lost time and revenue.

De Havilland sued Warner Bros. in the same Los Angeles County superior court Johansson has now filed suit against Disney, and after a successful litigation and WB’s subsequent appeal failing, “the De Havilland Law” essentially ended a studio’s ability to control stars’ lives and careers like they were pampered indentured servants. In response WB attempted and failed to blacklist de Havilland.

It appears that once again, Hollywood is on the precipice of a turning point.

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[catamight]

Tag Game!

Tagged by @ rubynovare - First tagging experience, because I is hermit.

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people.

LAST…

Drink: UM. ...Oolong ‘Mousse’ Bubble Tea?? Hard to describe; amazing to taste.

Phone call: My folks

Text message: My SO

Song you listened to: Mystery - Indigo Girls

Time you cried: Honestly, I started crying in an argument when I couldn’t find the words to explain my frustration. Trying to make someone understand that people should care about each other, but with facts? Hard times.

HAVE YOU…

Dated someone twice: Nope! 

Kissed someone and regretted it: As of this moment, nope. 

Been cheated on: Nooooooope.

Lost someone special: Yes. No thestrals for me though, so for that I’m thankful.

Been depressed: I’ve ... Unsure. Nothing clinical. I’ve had bad periods, but I don’t count that as ‘real’ depression I guess. It’s hardly anything like many of my friends have experienced. I HAVE BEEN SAD?? It’s not depression though.

Gotten drunk and thrown up: Ayup. Though I don’t have hangovers. I just go straight from drunk to hugging a toilet while still drunk but also sick. 

Made new friends: YEAH?? WHICH IS ALWAYS COOL.

Fallen out of love: Nope.

Laughed until you cried: A few times actually. :D

Found out someone was talking about you: Yep! Never pleasant, but when I found out why they were snide about me, it’s almost always about something so dumb I can’t even get mad.

Met someone who changed you: Everyone I ever meet changes me. Not being deep; I’m pretty literal about that. o 3 o

Found out who your friends are: Usually - but never to 100%. Frankly I find that normal; people should always be able to surprise you (hopefully in a good way, but really it just means you shouldn’t underestimate anyone).

Kissed someone from your Facebook list: Just one. ;3

Kissed a stranger: Nah bro. Been tempted once.

Drank hard liquor: hahahahahAHHAHAHA yeah I have.

Lost glasses/contact lenses: Contact lenses. ONCE. Never. Again.

Turned someone down: Mmnnnnnnooo I suffer from perpetual obliviousness in regards to flirting/attraction from other people. I really apologize to people about that. is2g it’s not cold shoulder, it’s just disbelief.

Sex on the first date: Nuh brah.

Broken someone’s heart: ....unsure. Probably not? 

Had your heart broken: I feel like I’m more prepared to break hearts than have mine broken. If there’s any breaking going on, I’m usually aware of a problem before it gets to the hard part of talking it out.

Been arrested: Thank god no.

Cried when someone died: Yes. For brief, powerful sessions around no one else.

Fallen for a friend: nnnnn....nope. Not yet. 

Kissed on the first date: Third date. ...No. Fourth date. XD I’m not that adventurous and would rather get to know a person first.

GENERAL

List 3 favorite colors: um. gonna go with fav color combos --> mint green/pink; black/blood red; purple/light blue

How many Facebook friends do you know in real life: Pretty much all of them!

Do you have any pets: Nope! Allergic to cats and I can’t afford time/money/renovations to properly house the dog I really want. But I play with other people’s pets all the time. :3

Do you want to change your name: I frikken lOVE my name. It’s a Dune reference and shows off my deep nerd heritage. I wouldn’t change it for the world.

What time did you wake up: 7:30am exactly. I can no longer sleep late. Unless I was up to like 5am or something ridiculous.

What were you watching at midnight last night: Rick & Morty!

Name something you can’t wait for: ....PAX??? Probably??? I mean. I never like waiting for my favorite events; but I’ll wait forever to buy a favorite game. I’m so lost as to how to answer this one. XD

When was the last time you saw your mom: This last thursday!

What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: Banish my procrastination whenever I feel like it.

What are you listening to right now: The dulcet tones of the Game Grumps playing Sonic Boom. Boy that game is broken. 

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I know two people with a name that could have Tom as a nickname, but neither go by that. So no?

Something that is getting on your nerves right now: Nothing.

Most visited website: Archive of Our Own, Tumblr, 

Mole/s: Total of three.

Mark/s: Chicken pox scar on my tummi; birthmark on my upper right arm; faintest of dark tint to my left forearm from when I tipped boiling water onto myself as a babby (mom spent hours scrubbing dead skin off of burned skin and she said I didn’t scream once, for which I’m impressed NOW because I’m pretty sure these days I’d be a huge painful mess)

Childhood dream: President

Do you have a crush on someone: ....does my SO count???

What do you like about yourself: I appreciate my empathy.

Piercings: One ear!

Blood type: O+

Nickname: Pi (by a bunch of kids I was teaching over the course of several summers); otherwise my name’s short enough there’s no need for a nickname.

Relationship status: *gestures to various mentions to an SO throughout this quiz* = w =;/

Zodiac: Western Zodiac—Pisces, Chinese Zodiac—Earth Dragon

Pronouns: She/her/herself

Favorite TV show: Brooklyn 99/Hannibal (I’m so over the map)/Yuri!!! on Ice/BNHA

Tattoos: Skin is clear. I want a white tattoo someday tho.

Right or left hand: Right handed

Surgery: Oral surgery for my wisdom teeth, and for getting ear tubs put in when I was a little (constant ear infections suuuuuck)

Hair dyed in different color: It’s dyed THREE different colors guys. I’m a damn aurora and I love it :DDD

Sport: Kayaking or Rowing/Skiing/Tennis/Boating(???)/Hiking/Swimming!

Vacation: Last one I took was to Canada! 

Pair of trainers: ...British trainers, or ... or people trainers..??

Current and all-time best friend name: YES. ALSO NO NAME FOR U INTERNET.

Eye color: Black/Brown (really frikken dark)

Favorite movie: ....uh. oh god. UM. OH NO. DDD: I CAN’T CHOOSE. I will say that you all should watch The Fall, Jacob’s Ladder, The Mummy, Deadpool, Lake Mungo, Silence of the Lambs, Sauna, Emperor’s New Groove, Last Action Hero, and any Miyazaki film every made. Seeing as this is Tumblr, I’m probably just preaching to the choir.

WHICH IS BETTER?

Hugs or kisses: Kisses are nice but hugs are BETTER

Lips or eyes: Eyes. <333

Shorter or taller: I like both for different reasons

Nice arms or stomach: ....n/a?? Mostly because my eyes are more focused on faces and hair and overall stature.

Sensitive or loud: Sensitive

Hook up or relationship: Relationship; I like to build that shit. 

Troublemaker or hesitant: Hesitant (though I have been tempted)

DO YOU BELIEVE IN…

Yourself: More than I used to, less than I hope. 

Miracles: Kinda. I like karma a lot. It eases a lot of pain to know that shit always comes back to bite bad behavior in the end (even if it takes a while)

Love at first sight: Nooooooooooope.

Santa Claus: Lawl, when I was a kid I knew my parents got me stuff, not Santa, but I always liked the idea of a guy who took the time to give kids gifts all over the world. I’m an optimist like that.

Tagging: ...@solosvejs @mattheal @kimthreerings (because I don’t know enough people on here very well so it’s just kind of a crapshoot you guys don’t have to okay? okay thanks bye *falls into a ditch*)