#I like the films a lot! as long as I remember they are about different characters from the books | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

controld3vil · 24 days

Text

atreides and bene gesserit

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic), austin butler x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: as clueless as you were about your sister's role, it brought you much surprise and joy to see her on the same carpet as you.

notes: reader uses fem pronouns as she's playing a role as a bene gesserit. reader is also described as wearing a sleeveless jumpsuit. and i really enjoyed lea seydoux's performance and hope to see more of it !! this is also COMPLETELY separate from the first two posts ive made since the readers r playing different characters yeah?

When Denise Villeneuve asked you about the role of Lady Margot Fenring, you were genuinely shocked about his decision. You appreciated his works but have never gotten close to any of his sets before. You have worked with directors who've admired Villeneuve for his imaginative mind. And now, you witnessed his creativity in person for the first time.

The role was small and not as significant as the other main leads. Regardless, your character was just as enigmatic and complex as any other in the Dune franchise. Even though your time was short, it was a fun experience to learn and observe from. You weren't able to meet the entire cast after production, but with the NYC premiere, you were able to link up again.

You heard your name being called out. "Hello! How are you?" The well-known comedian and presenter by the name of Amelia Dimonberg was now beside you. In her jet-black corset dress, her style is chic and elegant. She hands you a microphone with the film's title plastered on it. "You look beautiful!"

"Thank you!" you sweetly recuperate, diverting your shoulders to the sight, cutely. You give a little pose before complimenting her own outfit. "You as well!"

"Do you have a memorable day on set that sticks out to you?" Amelia questions, subtly leaning toward your direction. And now you noticed her detailed eye makeup which enhances her outfit altogether.

"Well- I've had, like, only a few days," You let out a quick sigh. Truly it was nothing to be embarrassed about but you could not help but feel shy about it.

"Mmhmm! So all of them?"

"Yeah, all of them!" With ease, your shyness turns into giddy laughter as all you remember from your times on set. Recalling those tiny moments brought a small smile to your face. "Every day counted for me and that was enough."

"Oh absolutely!" Amelia chides, nodding in agreement. She quickly then moves onto the next question, "How long do you think you could last in the actual desert?"

"Oo that's a tough question," Lifting your fingers to rest on your chin as you try to contemplate an answer. "Ideally no- I feel like I could never recover from the heat."

"Yes yes, the heat's very intense,"

"Yeah- no I don't think I'd ever leave my house for that-" You shake your head nonchalantly, acknowledging how most of your scenes already were indoors. You could imagine how you would do in the desert of Abu Dhabi. It makes you appreciate the cast and crew even more for their effort to make filming more comforting and tolerable.

"Where would be your dream location to hang out? I'm assuming your home then since you prefer to say inside?" The blonde interviewer quickly catches on, eyebrows raising intrigued by your response.

Instead, you hummed bashfully, "Actually I think an oasis would be nice." The camera catches onto Amelia's face, fully fixated on you. "Which fits perfectly if I were to live in the desert actually!"

"Mm yeah, smart choice!" She responds more cheerily. "You can maybe go for a swim, you know-"

"Right right," You give her an playful look, "And you don't have to go thirsty!"'

"Absolutely, the best of both worlds," Amelia chirps, doing the same expression. "So this film centers a lot around dreams. Do you have vivid dreams of yourself?"

"Yes! I've uh- I've had many dreams of myself. I mean, this one, for example-" You turn to the camera, waving with the most adorable smile on your face. "'I'm living my dream right now!"

"You're living your dream right now!"

In another section of the premiere, you were walking down the carpet for press interviews and photography. The set where the premiere was taking place was gorgeously made in the shades of black and orange, the perfect theme of the film. The entire venue was outdoors, allowing you to feel the cold air and be more at ease in the crowded space. There were more paparazzi than you had expected, and you suddenly became aware that you were alone. Without any friend or acquaintance to accompany by, you searched aimlessly for a familiar face.

Then there was a holler. And then multiple more came after, it made you confused really. Your head swerves to the sound of the person you so try to look for and immediately you're struck in awe.

"Anya?!" In an instant, you're seen running towards your sister in the far back of the premiere wall. People were reluctantly used to fast-paced relocations around the carpet. Therefore most did not mind your hasty stumbles through the crowd. It was almost comical how apparent your demeanor changed when you heard her, in fact, videos and pictures caught all of it.

"Hi!" She beams in her white dress robe. Her makeup was glowing, making her skin seem angelic, and sheer without impurities. Her outfit covers her like a nun, covering her head and body in almost transparent cloth. Yet it flows around her so elegantly, almost like she was an angel from the stars. She squeezes your figure firmly, only after releasing to gush about your appearance.

You adored a beige sleeveless jumpsuit. The color is complimented with tiny designs of sparkle. Its seams captured your figure perfectly, as you also wore a gold chain and bulky rings. From the lighting, it looks as though your outfit is shining. And to be completely honest, you prefer comfort over the judging looks of fashion critics. Therefore you wanted to wear something that you could still move comfortably in. Thus you were able to run over to your sister with ease.

Through the other lens and camera, they could pick up some of her words after. "You look so gorgeous! How are you here?!" Anya's expression changes into a perplexed one as she gets a hold of your shoulders, shaking them back and forth.

"I was invited obviously, "You said, mimicking her voice while holding onto her arms on yours. "You didn't tell me you were a part of Dune!" Viewers from afar could tell you were pushing an act, reacting as though you were petrified about how Anya managed to be here in the first place.

"I didn't know you were either!" She giggled, closing in on your right ear. Your sister whispers to you slowly, trying to withdraw from the camera and recordings. "Villeneuve had mentioned something but honestly I just thought it was a joke."

It was your turn to guff. Your mouth opens wide flabbergasted, looking sarcastically offended. "Why would you think he's joking?!"

Anya scoffs lightly, wanting to go further with the joke. "I don't know- I just didn't take his word seriously,"

"Why? Because you didn't think I'd make it into the film?" You accused, eyes widening with a hand over your heart. "You're so cruel."

"So cruel," She smirks up at you, then moves back to be by your side. You see her face forward the flashing cameras, as you do the same. "Come! Let's take some pictures!"

"Your outfit looks beautiful by the way!" Anya Taylor muses, eyeing down at the fine details on your jumpsuit. "It's very... you!"

You give her a nod, before flattening some of the creases, "I thought this color was so exquisite, so I thought it would be perfect for the premiere." You lift your head to look at your sister, before realizing behind her, the upcoming stars of the film were getting ready to take cast photos. "Oh Anya- I think you should go!"

Your sister turns and then gazes back at you with a soft smile. "You should come with me!"

The thunder of cameramen and journalist blurred your focus for a moment. "Are you sure-"

Again the sound of your name is hurdled but this time from someone you haven't seen in a long time. Jessica Ferguson, who too wears a black body suit with veils and bold makeup. She waves her hand almost too eagerly to have you come closer alongside your sister. "Come, join us!"

Videos were filmed of the people gesturing to the cast of Dune in a line. Little by little, the row of people is filled and organized to be in the center of the camera's focus. Some actors had to move spots, due to lack of space or better color semblance on the other side of the row. You stood next to Jessica and Florence Pugh was beside your right, as you tried to stand closer for the picture.

Anya Taylor was on the opposite side, with Austin Butler and beside him, Timothee Chalamet. A noticeable clip taken all over was when the French actor went to greet the English actress, warmly, clasping her hand with both hands as a proper salute as on-screen siblings.

You did not mind the lack of attention. You were happy for Anya for achieving a great role. One with a welcoming cast and crew. It was then your eyes scanned down the row, from Zendaya to Stellan Skarsgard. Then to Austin, whom you've been familiar with since day one. Only him to find your gaze seconds later. You give a little nod and smile before averting your direction to Anya who is already staring at you with gleaming eyes.

You were going back and forth with Jessica and Florence on your travels for a while. From plans reception to favorite desserts, all you three wanted to talk about was food. Paparazzi caught onto your banter quickly and snapped a few photos. You even went out of your way to do silly poses. Followed by Jessica and Florence, then did the same, sticking their tongues out in a rock star kind of fashion. You throw out piece signs, giving a dramatic frown as another flash happens.

Catch-ups were definitely refreshing and fun. Thus why you nearly jump when Austin appeared behind you.

"Oh my gosh, hey!" You stuttered, giving him a quick hug to calm your nerves. "You scared me!"

"Sorry sorry! I just wanted to surprise you!" He leans his head slightly, allowing better eye contact. You felt a few taps on your shoulder and noticed Jessica and Florence scurrying away, with their thumbs up, all goofy and excited.

Your eyes make it back to his. "I would've said hi back at the cast photo, but you were so far away," Shrugging you dismiss your failure as a mild missed opportunity.

But Austin shakes his head in an averted manner. "No- Don't worry about it." You could already sense interviewers and others with microphones closing on you two. You were out in the open, and it's bound to happen. "I wanted to- you know, say hi to you in a less chaotic place."

"I tried looking for you but there's just so many people," You give your costar an exhausted look. It was then a keen young man approached the pair of you. It was the People magazine, as you became aware of the logo alongside their camera and microphone.

"Hey, would you two mind a short interview for People's magazine?"

Truly, this was what premieres were about. The cast and crew meet with fans to show what they have worked so hard for. You brought you no better satisfaction than to praise everyone's efforts. The interviewer then proceeded to have a quick introduction of you and Austin beside you. You both had separate microphones in each hand. Once the video started rolling, you peered at the camera and gave the audience a grin.

"So how are you guys doing? Met all of your lovely cast members yet?"

"Oh absolutely," You emphasized every syllable, nodding. Austin only glances at you in amusement. "It's crazy how many people are here I was so overwhelmed!"

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded," The male actor adds, lowering his microphone slightly.

"Hopefully it will die down!" The interviewer beams. "So what was it like getting to know each other in this film? How was the first day on set like?"

"Oh, well it went very smoothly," You start, staring up at Austin in approval. "Even though my time was short on set, I feel like we had a pretty good rhythm starting out."

"I was about to say! The scenes with Feyd and Lady Margot were really something!"

"Why thank you, we appreciate it," Austin nervously laughs, scratching his ear.

The interviewer takes the lead to discuss your preparation for the role and how it was working with Villeneuve. As new characters, you and Austin both talked about your views on both of your characters. Both are very different yet mysterious to the viewers. Additionally, you two were introduced in a similar scene of the pit fight. The People's Magazine interviewer was compelled to compliment Austin on his opening scene. You knew he had practiced the choreographed fights vigorously. And of which you were lucky to witness on the days that you were present.

"It was completely freeing and different than what I was used to doing," Austin probes, leaning toward your direction. "Were you there for the pit fight?"

"I think I was," You turn, similarly. "I remember watching from afar and thinking wow." Immediately you could sense him eagerly looking down at you with a sly smile. "He was- Austin did amazing with the fight choreography, I was impressed!"

"Was this the first time seeing him in full costume too?"

"Oh yes!" You bonked your hand on your forehead, "He was and I just- couldn't believe it was him!"

Suddenly Austin jumps in, "She was startled when I first came up to her in full costume."

"You came out of nowhere, by the way!" You rebutted, giving him a side glance.

"I didn't mean to," As he tries to reassure his actions, "I wanted to give a good first impression!" It was humorous how playful you two were together despite having dissimilar filming schedules. Though most of your scenes involved Butler, your friendship only became more apparent weeks after working together. It was off and on for months at a time due to being busy in other countries simultaneously.

Eventually, you were able to link up again weeks before the premiere. After waiting a long time to meet up, you almost felt relieved that you hadn't seen your costar in a while.

"And Austin, how was filming with her?! From a character's standpoint, what kind of dynamic do you see playing out?" The People's Magazine interviewer perks up, having the camera transition from his face to Austin's.

"Well I'd say, she's great. You know I've got to meet a lot of amazing people in this film. And," He says your name sincerely, "She's- she's one of those people. I can't say much for Lady Margot and Feyd's relationship- you know there's a lot of that's still not uncovered. We don't really know what's happening but kind of have an idea of something. And to have such a great actress like her, it makes everything feel authentic and- feel the tension." It felt as if you were in a daze, eyes completely focused on his words with such admiration and grace. Before you knew it, you were smiling as if you had won the best possible prize in the world. His compliments to you meant more than you had anticipated really.

Unbeknownst to you, the cameraman had caught your lovestruck expression before directing attention back to the interviewer. "And how about you, Miss Margot?"

"I'd say it's the same," Now looking at the interviewer, only momentarily back at your costar. "Austin's- he's great at all the stunts and acting like a scary dude. Every scene with him was fun to do. Like he's all serious in character but once they yell cut! he's so nice and funny!" Your bubbly laugh breaks as you can feel your face growing hot.

"Well I appreciate you liking my humor," Austin pokes fun at you, fanning a little air towards you.

You mutter a soft thank you! before continuing, "And he's dedicated you know? I remember one scene, a little spoiler, where Feyd is about to be tested by Lady Margot, and I just couldn't do it! I couldn't keep a straight face!"

"Really?!"

"She just kept breaking, I don't know why," The actor shrugs, his attention closely drawn to you. "We had a few takes on a few days."

"We did! We did!" You gave a big frown, "You just have a really distracting face."

"Do I?" Austin asks, between the lines of teasing and coolly.

By the time, other premieres had occurred, people were still focused on your interactions with Austin Butler. Your chemistry on and off screen on the carpet was hilarious. And with how polarizing your characters were, it made many clips of your shared encounters gain attention.

A few short videos were recorded after the People Magazine interview of you and Austin, bashfully talking behind the stage. The two of you went back and forth whispering in each other's ears about what was unknown to the viewer. Through a bird's eye view, the video also catches you hugging your arms before zooming in on Austin's placing an arm around your figure.

Another clip that had been reposted many times was when you both took duo pictures together. As you comfortably shift your weight on one leg, as you turn to have your side face the flashing paparazzi. Whilst the Elvis actor stands beside you at a pleasant distance, doing the same pose to the other side. There was one instance where you lifted your head to make eye contact with your eyes instantly brightening. As Austin's smile widened, only to blow air in your face.

601 notes · View notes

kentopedia · 8 months

Text

seeds of doubt

ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor

summary — you don't feel like you’re good enough for them

contents — they comfort you when you’re feeling insecure about your relationship, sfw !!

notes — my other dazai wip is taking a while, so i decided to finish this one! i started it a few wks ago but since i’ve been feeling a lil down lately, i decided it was time for a comfort piece!

₊˚⊹♡ DAZAI

when you'd come home from work that evening, dazai had already known something was wrong. your usually bright smile didn't quite reach your eyes, your shoulders slumping the moment you crossed the threshold of your home.

dazai hadn't pushed you, but he had drawn you up tight in his arms, held you close when you breathed heavily into his shoulder, releasing all the tension in your body. his fingertips were soothing along your neck, massaging small, relaxing circles.

for the past hour, though it was nearing dinnertime, you'd found yourself buried in blankets, so warmly entangled with him, even when all of your hypercritical thoughts threatened to chill you to the core.

dazai spoke to you softly, asking you questions about your day for a while, ones that you refused to answer. you kept your eyes glued to the screen, watching mindlessly as a movie played, one that neither of you were paying any attention to.

that continued on for as long as he could stand it.

finally, with a sigh, dazai paused the film. he shifted, turning so that you were both face to face, his long limbs twisting around your own. limbs that were always so solid and warm, despite the iciness of his hands.

"kunikida told me what you said."

hesitantly, you stared back with wide eyes, jaw clenching. already, you knew what dazai was talking about. it was something that you'd told kunikida in confidence, because of all the members of the agency, you'd been certain that he was the least likely to spill your true feelings.

you stared back at him blankly, your shoulders stiffening. "hm? we talked a lot today. i'm not sure i know—"

though you pretended not to remember, dazai didn't let you run away from the question.

his lips fell into a frown, unamused. he drew your name out on an exhale, before running his palm over your cheek, across your chin, dipping his fingers into your hair. "don't bother. he's already mad enough at himself for telling me, but he hated how upset you were about it."

"osamu," you began. "i don't—"

"why did you tell him that you think you're not good enough for me?"

the seriousness in his deep brown eyes was so different than his usual playfulness, and you almost withdrew from them, curving deeper into yourself.

though, alongside the stoicism of his expression was something so melancholy, you found yourself offering your unfiltered emotions instead.

a long pause ensued. you breathed.

"because it's true," you finally whispered, your words wispy. "i'm not good enough for you, osamu." you swallowed when his face fell even further. "you're so smart, so handsome. you make me laugh all the time." your eyes grew hot as you felt tears at the edges of them. "i'm so plain compared to you."

"plain?" he repeated back, so wildly upset that you found yourself at a loss for words. "how can you say that, any of that, when i'm the one that's not good enough for you?"

despite yourself, you cracked a smile at his overzealous need to change the narrative. "don't say that just to make me feel better.”

"i'm not.” he frowned, his lips puckering as he held your cheeks, elongating each of the letters. "you're beautiful. inside and out. in a way that i can never be." he kissed the tip of your nose, smiling as you swatting him away. "i'm certainly not funny to everyone, either. i make you laugh only because i love you, and i want to see you smile." he kissed you between the eyebrows, then, this time laughing when the skin wrinkled there. "and i'm smart because i have to be, because i don't want to see the people i care about get hurt if i can do something to stop it." his expression softened at your glossy eyes, the way you slowly melted under his touch.

you let the words sink in, each one slowly chipping away at the doubt that had clouded you. dazai had never looked at you with anything but adoration in his eyes, something he spared for you and you alone, even when you felt unworthy of it.

"you could have anyone you wanted, osamu,” you said, the honest truth twisting something deep within you. “anyone at all.”

"funny," he said, tilting his head as he studied you carefully. "i've always thought the same thing about you."

₊˚⊹♡ CHUUYA

“i’m home,” you heard chuuya shout down the hall. he was always careful to alert you of his presence every time he returned, never wanting you to fear that his enemies had found his home, leaving you vulnerable.

you sniffed, some form of acknowledgement as you swirled the alcohol in the glass, pouring it down your throat. it burned on the way down, a buzz already at the edge of your mind, your thoughts slowing as you it sank into your bloodstream.

chuuya didn’t say anything more as he came into the room, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his hat and coat. there was a healed cut running down his left arm, a cluster of bruises on his left.

even though he’d gone on a dangerous mission earlier, he’d come home relatively unscathed.

despite your endless relief, it only did more to fuel your insecurities, the knowledge that compared to all his infinite glory, you were a lackluster, powerless no one.

you poured another glass, unbeknownst to the fact that chuuya was speaking to you at all.

“what?” you turned, the word slurring; you weren’t even sure what set of syllables had left your lips at all.

chuuya made a face as your head plopped down on the table, your eyes red from the tears you'd expelled. “is something wrong? it’s a little early for this, isn’t it?”

you stared at him, and though he was amused, you turned away, feeling the sour emotion of doubt lodge deep in your chest. “no,” you said in a small voice, turning away from chuuya.

he paused for a moment, his expression sobering before he took the seat next to you. chuuya held out a gloved hand, one that you could only see from your peripheral vision. “you expect me to believe that?”

“nothing’s wrong, chuuya,” you muttered, as sharply as you could in your current state. your arm grew numb under the weight of your head, throat sore from your earlier sobs. “i’m fine.”

chuuya sighed and took the bottle from you. even as you protested, every inch of his expression was so caring and delicate.

“that’s how i know you’re not fine.” he ran a hand over your hair, flattening it as you looked up at him from under wet eyelashes. “please tell me what’s wrong. i don’t like to see you sad, baby.”

though you wanted desperately to keep your mouth shut, you were too drunk to hold in the words. you leaned into his touch, letting the tears roll down your cheeks once more as panic grew in chuuya's eyes.

“i just think you deserve someone better than me, chuuya."

his brow wrinkled, and he blinked twice before shaking his head, puzzled. “what?”

you buried your head further into your forearms, unable to look at him any longer. despite your embarrassment, your lips didn't stop moving, releasing every little secret you'd bottled up since you'd met him

“you deserve someone you don’t have to worry about every time you’re away." you swallowed. "i’m not strong like you, chuuya, i don’t have any special ability that can save me from enemies." you thought of all the people he worked with, all of the ability users in the city that could compliment him so perfectly. "someone out there is a perfect match for you… i just don't think it's me.” you looked back at him, with teary, red eyes, right into his own sullen ones.

he scoffed, but his expression was gentle, open, fingers curling delicately around your wrist. "well, you're certainly wrong about that."

you curled yourself into a ball, resisting him, looking down at his knees instead of his eyes.

“none of that matters to me. i love you just the way you are. even if you were the strongest in the whole world, i'd still do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

you rubbed your cheeks, frowning as chuuya began reeling you in, grabbing you by the wrist to tug you onto his lap. “chuuya..." you said, hesitating as he planted you on his thighs, lips pulled tight in complete sincerity as he spoke his next words.

“i don’t care about anyone else. they could have all the power in the world, and it wouldn’t matter because they wouldn’t be you." he held you steady, one hand on your hip as he let the other caress your cheek gently. "i'll never want anyone else, okay?"

you nodded, though the sadness didn't dispel so easily from your face.

chuuya sighed, offering you as much of a smile as he could, even though he knew it wouldn't be a magic solution to cheer you up. "i'll remind you every day if i have to."

₊˚⊹♡ FYODOR

your hands curled in the water, tracing patterns throughout the soap and bubbles as your thoughts consumed you. it was just after midnight, but you'd woken up alone in your bed, full of thoughts that seemed determined to convince you that you'd never be enough.

though you'd gotten better at dispelling those dismal emotions, they dug their claws in deep this time. you'd crawled out of the cold sheets and drawn yourself a bath, hopeful that it would clear your mind.

fyodor had disappeared, and you weren't sure if he was in another room or if he had left your home completely.

it was quiet, but that told you little; he was always so silent, sneaking up on you with footsteps that never made a sound.

the door creaked open not a moment later, as if he had heard your thoughts. you didn't look over at him, but he sat beside the tub, his slender fingers curling over the porcelain.

"is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft in the dim bathroom, illuminated only by candles and moonlight. "it's late."

you hummed, and contemplated voicing your thoughts at all. but you were half asleep, drowsy, and it didn't seem to matter what you said. the feelings would still be there, whether you voiced them or not.

still, you hesitated. "am i enough for you?"

you spared him a glance, and his eyes were wide, surprised by your simple question. a brief pause, before he answered, almost gently. "have i made you feel that you are not?"

you leaned your head against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling, the cracks in the paint, the uneven texture.

"i sometimes wonder if i'm just a hindrance to your plans." you breathed, thoughtful as he waited for you to finish. "i feel that maybe you'd be better off without me."

fyodor said nothing as you laid in the water, the temperature dropping with each passing minute. quietly, he discarded his clothes, keeping his eyes on you as he climbed into the tub to sit across from you.

he whispered your name once, but you remained silent, breathing in and out, trying to calm your mind.

"would you look at me?” fyodor asked, and the softness in his words was enough.

you sat up, pulling your legs closer to make space for him, even though he held your calf, drew himself towards you instead.

"you know that i do not make decisions lightly, and yet, i decided to share my heart and soul with you." he caressed your knee before letting his hand fall into the water, tracing patterns around your shin. you shivered. "do you really think i would have devoted my time to you if i ever intended on letting you go? if i didn't need you?"

"i know." you frowned, fully aware that it was true, to the deepest part of your soul. still, there was an ache in your mind, one that wouldn’t just go away with his pretty words. "but i can't help the way i sometimes feel."

fyodor smiled, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly at the corners. "i know," he said, and when he had you close, he dipped his head to kiss your bare shoulder. "but you do not need to hide that from me. i am here for you, always." he squeezed your hand. "i apologize if i am not always the best at showing that."

his touch was cold in the exposed bathroom air. "and when you achieve your goals, what will become of me? will you dispose of me, along with everyone else who stops being of used to you?"

"of course not." a laugh escaped him, like your question was unfathomable. "even then, you will be right by my side." he held your jaw tenderly as he forced you to look deep into his eyes. "you are mine forever, don't you understand? just as i am yours.”

dash is a teensy bit dead rn, but i want to let this one go so i can focus on my other wips <3. this was so nice to write though :))

2K notes · View notes

tleeaves · 5 months

Text

Having so many thoughts about how the casting of Tom Blyth as a conventionally attractive man and his changing looks throughout the film actually demonstrate how much the directors intended for him not to be thirsted over -- and what thirsting over him at this point says about the audience.

I mean, if you're given a pretty face, like Coryo is said to have also in the books, you can get away with a lot because not many people are quick to scorn you. It's the fault of Greek philosophy most likely, but it's been thought for so long that physical beauty equates moral and ethical soundness. He has beautiful, absolutely gorgeous curls in the first two parts of the movie (and book), he's explicitly described as lovely and pretty, and many of the women in his life trust him until he reveals his motivations at the end.

The removing of the curls, I think, was not just about the military. It was about removing some of that beautiful mask and costume Coryo moves through the world in, chipping away, so that people began to see just how corrupt he was when they weren't blinded by his charms and he got too caught up after thinking he had their unwavering trust.

Coryo is the games. He makes himself a mystery wrapped in pretty things, surrounded by pretty people, to lure others in and distract from the snake he is underneath. Literally from Shakespeare's Macbeth "serpent 'neath the flower" (paraphrasing, I can't remember the precise wording for underneath and what not). The presence of roses on his character is even more fitting then, not just to disguise the scent of blood, poison, and mouth sores later on, but to give people a false sense of security, to please them, to charm them so they don't notice the snake coiling around them and preparing to bite.

Just like the characters, when the audience thirsts over this younger Snow, they are falling right into a trap. He does not love, he wants the control over people. He enjoys the manipulation. He would sooner kill you to protect himself no matter if you're his lover. The directors, Collins herself too, they're laughing or perhaps just wearily sighing over an audience that does not understand when they are being targeted. Snow wants to be admired. When an audience admires him and overlooks all the bad, it's a commentary about them and the way our society favours beauty over goodness. The way some will roll over and offer their necks to the knife just because it wears a pretty face and it manipulated them into sympathising.

Snow is dangerous. The thirst traps and edits, good as they are for a handsome man like Tom Blyth, are exactly what the Capitol would do for Snow. What he would encourage in theory. He's the snake underneath the flowers. And the audience of both the games and The Hunger Games franchise, is once again ignorant to what their behaviour means. Successful manipulation of a group.

How scary would that be if it happened in real politics with slightly different methods?

#the hunger games #a ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow analysis #tbosas movie and book #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games

960 notes · View notes

charles-eclair16 · 9 months

Text

Night after Night: Charles Leclerc

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!singer reader

Genre: Fluff🌥️ hints of sex?

About: when you release a song and the chaos it creates or the hardest launch ever

Your_username

Liked by charles_leclerc, badgirlriri, Adele and 89.k others

Your_username: Night after Night releasing tomorrow at 8pm. This song is honestly very different from all the songs I've ever written and I hope you guys would love it just as much as me ;⁠) also a surprise guest for you guys☺️

View all comments

Username06: what the fuck?! You cannot just drop this on us!?!

User: the scream I let out! I fell on my knees

Ynfan: is this about sex? Why does it give smexy times vibes

Lovergirl: what if the surprise guest is the man she's been soft launching?

↪️Ynismyreligion: as if! We know nothing about the man apart from he's got dark hair and freckles on his back

↪️Lovergirl: the man in the photo has freckles just saying!

User: bestie wake up mother is back!!

Ynismyreligion: I can't wait for the song!! It's been so long❤️❤️

Fangirl16: Ariana( charles) what are you doing here?!

Ynismymom: who is that man? And why does it look familiar?!

Mybabygirl: Why do I feel like we're going to lose our mind because of this song?!

Badgirlriri: can't wait💙

↪️Your_username: I love youuu❤️

F1obssessed: charles liked this?

↪️Yourfan: who?

↪️Fangirlcl: he's a formula 1 driver.

↪️Formula1fan: girl you're overreacting he could be a fan🤦

↪️F1fan: you're reaching

↪️Smoothoperator: the freakles do look like him

↪️F1fan: and you know this because?

↪️Fangirl16: girl I'm telling you that's Charles like I would bet my life on this

Liked by pierregasly

↪️Formula1fan: what the fuck?! Pierre liked.

↪️F1fan: that man likes anything doesn't mean that's Charles

↪️ Georgerusselfan: you guys can think he can pull a baddie like her? Like be real guys

Charles_leclerc

Liked by peirregasly, your_username, carlossainz55 and 90.9k others

Tagged: your_username

Charles_leclerc: Surprise? Hope you guys enjoyed the music video as much as we enjoyed filming it ;⁠) Baby I'm so proud of you♥️ and I'm so lucky to be loved by you...these months have been amazing with you by my side. I love you 😘 ps- did I make a good actor?

View all comments

F1fan: this is the hardest launch ever

Pierregasly: you sure did practice a lot

↪️Likedbygasly: lmao pierre

↪️Ynfan09: spill the tea gasly

Carlossainz55: I still can't believe the song is written about you

↪️Vettelfan: carlos💀

Landonorris: I so not needed to hear that

↪️Ynismyreligion: Lando😭😭

↪️Ynismylove: exactly there are children here

User: I like how she dropped one song and the F1 twitter was in shambles

Username05: Monday Tuesday Wednesday... Now the only thing I will remember is Charles giving yn the ride of her life

Fangirl16: the song has been stuck in my mind

LewisHamilton: Nice song Charles♥️

Smoothoperator: the whole grid is gonna make fun of Charles

Maxverstappen1: Nice to know your weekly routine mate!

↪️Fanoff1: Lmao max💀

↪️Fangirl16: just tell us that you watched the mv for Charles max

Danielriccardo: Oh didn't know you had game mate

↪️Superfan02: us too Daniel us too

↪️Randomfan02: With a face like Charles I don't think you need a game his face is game enough

Alexalbon: Nice song mate. Practiced a lot?

Georgerussel: l love how the whole grid is ganging up on Charles

Likedbygasly: I wanna know who texted the groupchat first when the video dropped

Your_username: Thank you for being in the video babe♥️ couldn't have done it without you😘😘😘

↪️Pierregasly: obviously couldn't have done it without him😂

↪️Username05: Pierre💀💀

Your_username: I loveeeee you♥️♥️

Username06: they're so cute

Charles_leclerc: nobody is complimenting my acting🙃

↪️Pierregasly: what acting?

↪️Maxverstappen1: you ate her face the whole video?? Are we supposed to compliment your kissing abilities?

↪️Landonorris: as if we haven't seen you guys sucking each other's faces off enough

2K notes · View notes

unidentifiedmammal · 2 years

Text

breaking open dried milkweed stalks to collect their bast fibers.

i pounded them with a makeshift billet against a smooth surface to break them similar to how ive broken brambles before, and then snapped the pith in order to get only the outer fibers.

At this point i had a bunch of the papery skins attaching all the fibers together, like the image just below. But peeling them off is both inefficient and can lead to breaking

in order to get rid of the outer layer, i rubbed/rolled them vigorously between the palms of my hands, breaking it into flakes that either fell off or can be combed/carded out. it was too difficult to film but basically the same as making a friction fire (although easier for sure).

At this point i had a handful of fibers, still long but in need of combing. I have a fine-toothed comb i use for a lot of fiber stuff, and ran that through it

I'll leave the sound on this one because it's an interesting auditory experience, some might like it some might hate it. Note, be prepared to sweep afterwards!

i used to worry about combing stuff like this too much, and i sort of still am, but its important to remember that what im removing are fibers that would otherwise be too short or fragile to include in a refined long-fiber bundle. What im going for is a line flax/fluff flax-like combo; aka i comb out the short fibers and then i have a bundle of extra long ones to work with!

the result is two bundles of different textures and potential

i made a little test string with the "line" milkweed, but i have yet to do anything more with it

as for the fluff, i carded it out!

i made it into a rolag that i then spun up on my tiny spindle

I quite like it. It definitely reminds me of flax/linen, which makes sense since it's also a bast fiber. Milkweed is often known for being extremely strong; i've heard from a fiber class instructor that you can tow a car with a finger-sized rope of it

I don't know exactly what kind of milkweed this is , but i've heard swamp milkweed is top of the class for fiber. orange butterflyweed is a bit weaker than this one (which might be swamp, might not)

(Also note, if you plant milkweeds, don't plant tropical milkweed outside of its native range! it's not as good as the native ones and can even increase disease in monarchs since it doesnt die back in warm winters)

anyways, have a lil monarch caterpillar!

#crafts #fiber arts #cordage #natural fibers #milkweed #bast fibers #nature #earth skills #drop spindle #handspinning

5K notes · View notes

ineffable-suffering · 7 months

Text

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #story of job #job minisode #good omens analysis #aziraphale is a storyteller #but not a very accurate one #my own meta

931 notes · View notes

sirfrogsworth · 3 months

Text

Photo Restoration Project - Part 1

A long time ago, Katrina sent me some old photos of her family I could restore. Her parents have been helping me from afar for years and I really wanted to do something nice for them. Unfortunately my dad got much worse and I pretty much forgot about this project for quite some time.

But then I decided to visit Katrina in Orlando and we discussed having dinner with her parents and I remembered these photos. So I thought I would fix them up so I could present them as a gift in person.

The first and most important photo was from her parents wedding.

Old photo prints can fade over time due to UV light exposure. From what I understand, different colors fade at different rates and red/orange tones tend to be the least susceptible to this fading. Thankfully all of the color information is still there, it's just that the darks are not as dark and the lights are not as light. The dynamic range got squeezed like an accordion. However, if you do a levels adjustment on the red, blue, and green channels individually, you can unsqueeze the accordion and balance everything back to the way it was.

But you can't always save everything and there may be other damage that needs fixing. If something becomes pure white, there is no way to restore that detail. Thankfully I was able to use the new generative fill feature to bring back detail in the dress, the flowers, and the tuxedo shirt.

And because I hate front facing flash and how it makes colors look ugly and sterile, I may have also added a marble floor and pillars.

Next up was a photo of Anastasia, Katrina's mom, protesting Henry Kissinger on behalf of her home country of Greece. This suffered from the same color fading issues.

What made this one a little more tricky was an uneven fading. The left side had to be adjusted independently and the top was even more faded. I had to isolate the trees to bring back their color. And the protest signs were difficult to read, so I enhanced those as well.

Next we have this lovely photo of Anastasia tending to some house plants.

This photo was actually in decent shape. It lost a little contrast, had a little bit of fading, and her top retained almost no detail I could recover. Recovering accurate skin tones is probably one of the most important skills I learned when restoring these photos. I wanted to keep that filmic look of the era while avoiding making people look jaundiced or pale. Lightroom's new masking feature that let's you isolate every aspect of the people it detects in a photo. This made fixing skin tones much easier. I could isolate just her face or her lips or her hair or her eyes and make precise individual adjustments. This process could have taken a great deal longer without this feature. But, I brought back proper contrast and color, added a little bit of detail to her top with gen fill, and hopefully got fairly accurate skin tones as well.

Next up, forward facing flash strikes again in a photo of Mike and Anastasia during Christmas.

Film did not do well in low light. If it was indoors and nighttime, you pretty much had no choice but to use flash. But a flash is a very small, bright light source and this causes a very unflattering result on humans. Today we have much more powerful flashes with rotating heads. We can bounce the light into the ceiling or off a wall and increase the size of the light source to get a more flattering result.

In this photo I wasn't able to do much, so I just balanced the skin tones and brought out some hidden detail and called it a day. It's still a lovely memory and thankfully film has such character that it negates a lot of the unflattering aspects of direct flash.

Next up is some cuteness...

A big priority when editing photos is to make sure the subjects are the star of the photo. And in this one their faces were a bit obscured in shadow. There was also a lot of haze in the background hiding the beautiful vista. Not to mention when I cleared that haze, there was this super faint hint of something in the sky. I can't tell if it was a rainbow, but I decided to believe it was a rainbow. The only thing that I am still struggling with, and this seems to be common with a lot of old photos, is green. Getting a good, saturated, natural green to look right has been very difficult. Everything I try ends up looking toxic or fake. The only thing that ends up looking right with the rest of the photo is more of a yellow-y brown. It's something I'll have to work on as I learn, but as long as the overall photo looks balanced and natural, I'm okay with not perfectly nailing the greens.

Up next we have a lovely scene on a Greek dock...

As far as editing goes, this was pretty basic. I just undid the fading, adjusted the skin tones, replaced the blown-out sky, and made the colors pop. But I think this is actually one of my favorite before and after shots. I just love how such a simple fix brought this scene to life.

A new car is a big deal and Anastasia looks so proud here...

This image has another common issue in addition to the typical fading of colors. It has a yellowish orange color cast. This could have been an issue with the film used or the development process or a chemical reaction on the print. A color cast is a lot like looking through colored glasses. It's like a translucent color material was put on top of the image. This can be a little trickier to deal with, but if you know your color theory, you might already know the solution. Blue is the opposite of yellow/orange on the color wheel, so if you introduce blue to the image it should balance out. Also, add a sky if it was missing.

Next up we have a landscaping project...

This one wasn't too tricky, but there was one interesting issue I had to address. All light has a color temperature. Daylight has a temperature of around 5500K. But the inside of the garage was being lit by reflected light and so that light took on the color temperature of the things it was bouncing off of. So I had to mask out the people and the car and address the color temperature inside the garage to make everything look balanced. Also, the green fought me hard on this one. And with the theme of this picture being plants, I felt I really needed to find a tone that worked. I think I finally got there, but I spent way too much time in the color picker doing trial and error of green tones. Also, new sky.

With this next one I actually did a pretty thorough explanation of how I edited it. But this was probably my favorite puzzle to solve from this collection of photos.

I'll do the abridged explanation...

The physical photograph was printed on a paper with a very heavy texture. And when it was scanned, the light from the scanner bounced off that texture and created a pattern of unwanted highlights.

I was worried this was impossible to fix and I almost gave up on this photo. But after one final Google search I discovered something called "Fast Fourier Transform." It's a mathematical formula that can be used to detect patterns. And the image editing software Affinity Photo, just so happens to have a filter called FFT denoise that helps you remove unwanted patterns from scanned photos.

And thanks to that filter, I was able to remove a substantial amount of that pattern...

Then I did my standard clean up techniques...

Oh, and I decided to try learning how to colorize.

Photoshop has a new set of experimental filters and a colorization tool is one of them. It is not great yet, but it is a great starting place. Instead of having to hand paint every single thing in the photo, Photoshop gave me a base to work with and I could take it from there with traditional techniques.

That's all I have the energy for today, but there are a bunch of cool restorations to talk about. Hopefully you all find this interesting. It was such a great gift to give to Katrina's parents. And spending that time with them and making them happy felt like I was with my own parents again. So we all got a gift in that wonderful evening.

Part 2 coming as soon as I have the energy!

#photography #photo restoration

445 notes · View notes

katiexpunk · 5 months

Text

The Art of Noticing | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: In the hushed corners of this desolate world, where whispers of yesteryears linger among crumbling ruins, you find a peculiar kind of peace; just like you did when you fell asleep in the darkroom for the first time. Still armed with your camera, even in this new world, you try to keep your heart attuned to the silent narratives of a forsaken universe. You used to think this was your strong suit; to be able to immortalize the unnoticed, to preserve the beauty around you, even in a world of darkness. That was until it almost got you killed. And Joel Miller hates you for it. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~6.1K Warnings: This one is full on corn with plot; plus lots of emotions. No specific age gap mentioned. References to loss, grief, death and sadness. Reader almost gets her throat slit, until Joel saves the day. I mean, canon-typical violence. Joel is an asshole in the beginning. Angst. Enemies to lovers. Lots of hatred towards a bird lol. Lots of film/photography references. Ellie is a gem, as per usual. Size kink. Reference to a gun/knife. Alcohol. Use of pet names (darlin', baby, good girl, sweetheart, etc.). Unprotected P in V. Oral (M and F receiving). There's a titty fuck. Grinding/dry humping. Fingering. Nipple play. There are no physical descriptions of the reader except that she has hair long enough to whip over her shoulder. Please let me know if I missed anything. A/N: This one has been in my WIPs for months. It started off as an entirely different story, but after going through and re-reading what I originally wrote, I hated it. I have all the feels about this one. Special thank you to @sydneyinacoma for being my emotional sexy support blanket and holding my balls on this one, as per usual. And to @papipascalispunk for originally editing the first version of this story, although it looks totally different now. Iris, you're a gem. Thanks for believing in me even before I did. I hope I make you proud with this one. Masterlist | Read on AO3

Tumbling at the edge Of disaster, This is how I lived. Oh see how the chrysanthemums Are dry now, Yet still beautiful. ~ Noelle Kocot

In the hushed corners of this desolate world, where whispers of yesteryears linger among crumbling ruins, you find a peculiar kind of peace; just like you did when you fell asleep in the darkroom for the first time. Your mother had always told you there was beauty in capturing the poetry in the often-ignored details, and she made sure you were given the tools you needed to do so. She was kind like that. Sometimes it's as if her presence still lingers vividly in your viewfinder, her radiant smile eternally illuminating your memories.

Your film helps you to hold on to the details that no one else is around to remember anymore, details you might one day forget; details like the color of your best friend's eyes, the warm hue of orange of your grandfather’s favorite recliner, and even the nearly lime green color of the fresh green tomatoes from your garden.

In a place where the larger story has faded, you still revel in the tiny tales—the vines reclaiming forgotten streets, sunlight gently embracing relics of the past, and the murmurs of tales etched into the decay. You think about the scratches carved into the dining room table of your childhood home and often wish you could once again find your seat around it.

But that reality is gone.

No longer is the girl who liked to swim or play with dolls. No longer is the girl who fought with her sister for stealing clothes from her closet, or her brother for hitting too hard.

Like many others, she’s gone. They’re gone.

She was whisked away to make room for the woman you are today; the person you’ve had to become to survive.

Still armed with your camera, even in this new world, you try to keep your heart attuned to the silent narratives of a forsaken universe. You used to think this was your strong suit; to be able to immortalize the unnoticed, to preserve the beauty around you, even in a world of darkness.

That was until it almost got you killed.

And Joel Miller hates you for it.

++++

Months after your patrol that went wrong, you bump into Joel outside the Tipsy Bison, giving him a cursory glance before turning around.

The idea of saying sorry crosses your mind, but for whatever reason, you don't. Your kindness, once a vibrant tapestry, is now a threadbare token. Besides, it’s his fault. He shouldn’t have been standing so close to the doorway. If anything, he should be apologizing to you.

You’re in a rather grumpy mood this evening, having wasted the last of your film only to overexpose the prints earlier in the day. Every single one – ruined. Sure, before the outbreak, this might not have bothered you as much, but now, finding film is like striking gold, and your stash is dwindling at an alarming rate. The frustration hangs over your head like a cloudy day. All you want to do is go home and sulk – forget about the mistake – at least if you were at home crying over your photographs, you wouldn’t be subject to prying eyes.

“Watch it,” Joel says, voice low and even, a sharp hint of annoyance behind his tone.

You stop in your tracks. You know you should walk away from this. But your temper is already on edge, sensitivity on hyperdrive, and something about the sneer of Joel’s voice gets under your skin. You spin around in a huff and toss your hair with annoyance. “Maybe next time don’t block the door,” you bark.

Joel retorts, red-hot at your audacity. “‘Scuse me? Wanna run that by me again, sweetheart?

The pet name is patronizing; you’re a real stick in his craw.

"You heard me," you snap back, punctuating your annoyance by crossing your arms over one another across your chest.

Joel turns around and takes a large stride toward you, closing the gap between your bodies so he’s nearly chest-to-chest with yours, his imposing figure towering over you, and his eyes narrow. “What’s got your panties in a twist tonight, hmm?” Joel asks, voice dripping with sarcasm and void of any genuine concern.

“You” you say, “you’re always so fucki–” before you can continue your sentence, Joel stops you by placing his large index finger onto your lips to hush you. "You've got one helluva smart mouth, darlin’," he says, voice low, almost menacing.

You freeze, looking up at him unsure of what to say as he brings his face inches from yours, the scent of whiskey heavy on his breath. The flecks of amber that dance around the edges of his irises catch your attention. As you swallow, your eyes momentarily flicker down to the thin line of his lips. Abruptly, he withdraws his hand, leaving an echo of intensity lingering in the suspended moment.

He isn’t particularly nice, but you have to admit, he is fucking hot. Since his arrival in town, he's been a magnetic force, his somber aura unmistakable to even the most casual of onlookers. A silhouette of brooding intensity, with shoulders that carve the space around him and biceps that speak of strength. His voice, a rasp in the wind, adds another layer to his already large presence.

“I’ve been told,” you pause. “Just – just get out of my way,” you say firmly, walking away as your shoulders brush against him.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" you scoff in your best imitation of his voice. You exhale sharply, fully aware of the true reason behind the agitation. You haven’t been fucked in years, and the heat that Joel stirs low in your belly is an incredibly frustrating feeling, knowing you’ll never get to do anything about it.

God damn infuriating man.

++++

As you lay in bed that night, you can't help but replay your encounters with Joel, the scenes repeat like an annoying commercial that won't leave your mind. Memories of your patrol with him keep playing on a loop, embedding themselves in your thoughts, refusing to fade away in the darkness of the night. "You could’a been killed," Joel's words still ring in your ears, the weight of his tone and the intensity in his eyes seared into your memory. You remember the sounds – the bone-crushing crunch and the grim, wet thud as Joel swiftly dealt with the raider who tried to slit your throat for your backpack, all while you were innocently looking through the lens of your camera, attempting to take a picture of a bird on a tree branch.

“I told you to follow my instructions, to listen, and you almost got killed on my watch – f’what? A picture of a fucking bird?” he said, trying to get you to see his point of view. Of course, you’ve apologized. Profusely, even, but it falls on deaf ears.

Ever since that moment, Joel hasn’t looked at you the same. You're certain all he sees is a stupid little girl, unable to protect herself. Nothing but a burden. Dead weight on his already sore shoulders.

Just go to sleep and forget about it, forget about him, you think to yourself, stirring in the scratchy fabric of your sheets.

As you drift off, you wonder what the bird saw that day.

++++

With a grunt, Joel manages to kick off his boots in the entryway, and they land with a loud thud against the floor. The worn wooden stairs creak beneath his weight as he ascends the steps, the dim hallway leading to Ellie's room. Pushing the door ajar, he finds her peacefully asleep. A small smile tugs at his lips, grateful to see her warm and safe.

Retreating to his room, Joel sheds the remnants of the day – his jacket, the weight of exhaustion, and the lingering sensation of your soft lips under his finger. As he settles into bed, the worn mattress groaning beneath him, he remembers the sound of your sweet voice; your puffy, teary eyes looking up at him as you apologized; and the sticky feeling of the blood on his hands from the man who tried to hurt you.

He wishes he would have pulled you close; and held you in the safe embrace of his arms.

He’ll never admit it, but he forgave you almost immediately, and it terrifies him more than anything in this new world ever could.

He’s already lost so much, and he’s not sure how much more he can take.

Surely it’s easier to hate you, rather than admit the truth, rather than lose you.

“Fuckin’ bird,” he mumbles before drifting off to sleep.

++++

"Come on, you've gotta be there! It's gonna be a total snooze without you," Ellie pleads, practically begging you to join her at the annual community holiday gathering.

Whereas Joel mostly acts like a grade-A jerk, Ellie is like a breath of fresh air. From the moment you met her, you’ve had a connection – you taught her the ropes of film exposure, and she's good company in a world where friends are a rare commodity. Despite your initial reluctance, you eventually cave. It’s not really your thing, but it’s a taste of normalcy, or what passes for it in this broken world, that you crave; plus, you convince yourself that you might even get a few good photos out of it.

Standing alone at the bar, you try to relax. You fiddle with the strap of your camera that rests on the bartop as you reminisce about how before the world turned to shit, you would have been quick to capitalize on an opportunity like this – to meet a nice guy, maybe have a drink or two and then end the night between the sheets.

You close your eyes and try to recall the last time you were touched, but it’s fruitless. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the gentle caress of a man or anyone for that matter.

You huff your residual irritation at the thought as you notice Joel talking with Tess in the distance. Tess. She’s rather new to town. You’ve only spoken once or twice, but you’ve gathered that she is a formidable woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, but still somehow kind.

Plus she can hunt, a welcome skill around here. As she converses with Joel, you take the time to drink in the details about her that you hadn’t noticed before. You guess she’s in her mid-40s, her hair is a mousey shade of brown with small shiny threads of gray in the mix, but she wears it well. Her complexion is soft, and her smile is nice. She’s pretty. You try not to color yourself too hard in the various shades of green as you wonder if Joel thinks the same.

“Another,” you signal to the bartender, and he fills your glass with amber liquid.

Maybe it’s the booze or the thick air from the crowded room causing your brain to go fuzzy, but you find yourself lost living out an alternate reality in your mind – one where Joel doesn’t hate you. One where he calls you a good girl, voice thick like honey, as he fucks you within an inch of your life.

Ellie’s voice calls you back to reality as she yells your name, signaling you to join her at the other end of the room. Downing the last of your drink, appreciating the subtle warmth it brings to your insides, you carefully place the glass on the bartop, shooting a subtle nod of appreciation to the bartender as you do; you grab your camera and place the strap around your neck. As you navigate the space toward Ellie, your keen awareness catches Joel breaking from his conversation with Tess, his gaze searing into you as you walk past both of them. His face is unreadable, but that doesn’t stop your pulse from quickening under his attention.

++++

After hours of socializing, all you crave is the comfort of your bed. Exhausted, you stumble out of the building, your balance betraying you on the gravel beneath your feet. Shit. You stand up, brushing off the lingering dirt from your knees, inadvertently smearing a small fleck of blood into your skin in the process. Of course, the one night you decide to wear a dress, the only one you own, you would end up injured.

“Really don’t have much spatial awareness, do ya, Darlin’?” Joel says, appearing out of the darkness, his dark and husky voice rings in your ears. It comes out a little harsher than he intended.

You shoot him a glare, half-hoping your eyes could actually launch daggers and finish him off right then and there. "Why do you always have to be such an asshole to me?" you demand, your frustration boiling over. “I’ve already apologized as much as I can, it’s fine if you don’t like me, but you could at least be cordial,” you say, voice defeated.

His mouth opens like he has something to say, but he doesn’t respond. "Right. Screw this, I'm going home,” you sigh as you walk away, thoroughly done with whatever messed-up game of cat and mouse the two of you are playing.

Joel watches you walk away, wishing he dared to go after you.

++++

Months go by, and despite the shifting atmosphere, as the crisp embrace of autumn gradually succumbs to the biting chill of winter; the air between you and Joel remains unchanged. His indifference is as unyielding as the encroaching winter snow.

“Tommy, please don’t make me go,” you beg. “He doesn’t even like me,” you cry, hoping he’ll have some sort of mercy on you.

“Sweetheart, he doesn’t like anyone. ‘M sorry, but it’s gotta be you two this time, ” Tommy replies, the sentiment of his voice echoing that there is no other option.

As you’re packing your backpack, you consider taking your camera but decide against it. Joel’s words pierce through you once more, “you almost got killed on my watch – f’what? A picture of a fucking bird?” You stash it in your dresser drawer, exchange it for a beanie and gloves, and walk out of the room to head to the stables.

Underneath the dappled morning sunlight filtering through the trees, you tread the familiar path to the barn, a soft crunch of gravel beneath your boots. The earthy scent of hay and the distant sounds of horses create a tranquil backdrop. As you approach the stables, your gaze catches Joel's silhouette – he stands, a rugged figure, in a weathered leather jacket and denim jeans with a knife sheathed at his side and a gun slung casually over his shoulder.

"Hey," you utter, your voice a gentle cadence, drawing closer to him. His gaze assesses you with a measured scrutiny, and with a subtle nod, he responds in a low murmur, "Ready?" The acknowledgment of your greeting remains absent.

Once inside the barn, you see the stable attendant readying your ride.

“‘M sorry, but you two are gonna have to share a horse,” he says, matter of fact. “Good ole bessy here has a lame foot that we gotta take care of before she’s back in commission,” he adds, patting the horse on the side. “And every other horse already has a rider for the day,” he adds. You think you hear Joel groan, but you can’t be sure.

You give the horse a friendly greeting, running your hand along its sturdy neck, a silent bond of understanding. Climbing onto its back, you settle in comfortably. Joel, without a word, positions himself behind you. The feeling of his thick chest pressed up against your back causes your breathing to hitch in your throat. Your eyes flutter closed as Joel reaches around you to grab the reins and he gently nudges the horse to go.

The rhythmic clip-clop of hooves on the path fills the air as you and Joel ride in tandem, a shared silence enveloping the space between you. The warmth of your body pressed against him, and the faint scent of your strawberry shampoo mingled with the earthy aroma of the trail, causes Joel to stiffen behind you. He adjusts his hips, subtly pulling them back, so you don’t notice.

You ride like that for what seems like an hour or more, until Joel breaks the silence, "So what’s the deal with the camera,” he asks as the horses continue their steady pace. His question throws you off. Is he being friendly?

“Oh, uh – well, my mom gave it to me when I was a little girl,” you say. Your voice goes an octave higher as you continue, “It’s all I have left of her now. All I have left of anyone, really,” you say. You bring your gloved hand up to wipe away the bead of snot that has gathered at the tip of your nose, sensitive from the cold, as you wait for his response.

“Hmm,” he adds, sensing the sadness, the grief behind your words; a hard truth almost everyone left alive has had to live. His heart hurts for you, hell, it hurts for him, too.

“Must be hard, reckon there’s not much worth takin’ a photo of these days,” he says, his head scanning from right to left to look out for any potential threats.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you pause.

“When I was younger, I used to think the sound of thunder was just the sound of god rearranging the furniture,” you say, slightly angling your head back to look at him, “it’s all about perception, Joel.”

He peers down at you, a furrow forming on his brow as he considers your words, his eyes tracking down to linger on your lips. Before you can say anything more, your attention flickers upward to the sky, the clear blue sky has been replaced by dark, ominous-looking clouds, and a raindrop falls to your cheek.

++++

By the time you find shelter, far from the comforts of Jackson, you’re both completely drenched.

“Stay here,” Joel says, hopping off the horse and swinging the rifle over his shoulders into his thick hands. You brush away the beads of water collecting on your lashes as you watch him enter the home to make sure it’s safe. He’s gone for what feels like forever, and after he returns, the rifle is slung over his shoulder again. It’s safe.

“Alright, darlin’ – all clear, let’s get outta this mess,” he says, offering his hand to help you get off the animal. Once steady, he takes the horse by the reins to lead him into the garage for shelter.

The rain-soaked chill clings to your skin as you and Joel step into the abandoned home, seeking refuge from the biting cold. Droplets cascade from your clothes, leaving a small puddle beneath your feet. The air inside is still, the only sound is the soft creaking of the dilapidated structure, the percussion of the raindrops falling on the roof, and the whip of the wind beating against the siding of the house.

Without a word, you both start shedding your damp layers, your shivers becoming more pronounced in the cool silence. You stand in the dusty living room, clad in only your bra and underwear, as you hold your arms crossed over your chest partially to warm yourself but also to shield yourself from Joel’s eyes, slightly self-conscious.

Joel briefly walks off before he returns from the bedroom off the side of the living room, having managed to find an old blanket among the remnants of the forgotten lives of the people who once lived in the home. He holds it open wide to you, an offering, and you turn your body so he can drape it around your shoulders. Once secured, you find a little bit of relief in its thick fibers.

You turn around to face him, and he stands there, rubbing his hands together in front of him in an attempt to warm himself.

“Joel, you’re freezing,” you say, slightly taking the blanket off of your shoulders as if to offer it to him. “‘M fine, Darlin’ – I’ll be fine, keep it, you need to get warm,” he says, but you see the way his body shakes as he says it, his tender curls plastered to his forehead; weighed down by the water collecting in them.

At that moment, you witness a fracture in Joel's stoic facade, the rugged exterior showing hairline cracks. The formidable walls he's meticulously built begin to crumble.

"Joel, seriously, we can share – come here," you insist, extending the blanket open with one arm, inviting him into the cocoon of warmth. The gesture carries an unspoken understanding, a truce. You might hate me, but I don’t hate you.

Joel hesitates for a second, his eyes tracing over your skin; as if he’s committing the sight of your hard nipples and damp skin to memory.

At last, he acquiesces, closing the gap between your bodies. His hands encircle your waist, drawing you close as he wraps both arms around you. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, and the blanket falls around both of your bodies. With him this close, you notice the subtle scent he carries with him, a touch of rain, a dash of cinnamon, and a hint of sweat. You’re not sure how, but he smells good.

With a long exhale, he tightens his hold on you, enfolding you against the sturdy warmth of his body. You melt into him, your cheek resting on the soft skin of his chest, and your breathing returns to a steady rhythm. You both pause there, letting the warmth swallow you up; eventually, the goosebumps that once littered both your bodies, begin to fade.

Your stomach flips as you listen to the subtle pitter patterns of his heart and the rhythmic sounds of his breathing. You had forgotten how good it feels to just be held; to have another body pressed up against yours. You realize Joel must feel the same, your attention flickers to the hard stiffness pushing against your stomach.

Tilting your face up to meet his, your arms still entwined around his neck, you whisper "Joel," your voice suggestive and questioning at the same time. His name hangs in the charged air.

"Darlin'," he responds in a low murmur, and before you can formulate a response, his lips claim yours in an unexpected yet tender collision. Joel groans and forces his tongue into your mouth. The intensity surges, and he begins to pull you back towards the couch. Joel pauses when the back of his calves meet the edge of the cushions, and he deepens the kiss before sitting back, pulling you with him onto his lap, the blanket falling to the floor leaving you almost bare on top of him.

The air in the home is still cold, but you don’t care, the adrenaline pulsing through your veins and your red-hot desire for him is more than enough to keep you warm. He’s as hard as a rock under his underwear, and you hum, noting how good his cock feels beneath you. You haven’t seen it yet, but you can tell he’s big.

“Are you sure you want this? What about Tess?” you ask, grinding against his erection. Joel grunts as he gropes both of your breasts with his hands, his lips meeting yours once more.

“Fuck, baby,” Joel mutters, leaning back to look at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more,” he says, his hands leaving your breasts to find your hips, and he pulls you down harder onto his clothed erection. “And Tess and I are just friends,” he adds, “You’re the one I haven’t been able to get outta my head.”

Joel closes his eyes, and his mouth hinges slightly open. It has been a while since you’ve been laid, but god were you glad to see you could still render a man speechless.

Joel’s long, firm fingers find their way up your back to the clasp of your bra. He begins to unhook it. “Take this off,” he says, and you do as he says, throwing the damp lace onto the floor, leaving yourself completely topless on top of him.

“God damn, Darlin’ –”, Joel responds to the sight of you.

“Like what you see?” you say, feeling confident, and less intimated now that Joel is beneath you. Of course, he could overpower you in a matter of seconds, but in this moment, you have the upper hand. You grasp his chin, admiring the feel of the coarse hair on your fingertips, and lean down to kiss him hard.

His cock throbs against you, and your pussy drips in response. You stay there, kissing him, grinding your clothed cunt into him, enjoying the desperate sounds he makes as you do. His firm body, soft tummy, and compact muscles spur you on. You grin as you trace your hands down his smooth chest, noting the scars -- from what, who, you can only imagine – until your hands eventually make their way down to the band of his underwear.

Joel stops you, firmly gripping your chin to look at him. He pauses there and then pulls your face towards his, firmly sucking your bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth. “Mmm, Joel,” you mutter, the words leaving your lips fumbled and sloppy. Joel intensely stares into your eyes for a moment, and you stare back, eyes wide in disbelief that this is happening.

“C’mere,” Joel says, breaking the silence with another kiss, as you rock your hips against him again, the movement sending sparks straight to your core. God, you’re so fucking wet for him – a dripping mess.

Joel presses his face against your chest and works his way to your pebbled nipple before daring his tongue out to lick it. You push a still slightly damp curl away from his forehead, before clenching his hair in your fist. His breath is almost desperate as he laps at your tender nipples, alternating between sucking and little flicks of his tongue. “Joel,” you moan, pulling his face into your chest.

He growls softly, and sucks at your nipple harder, then rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger. You make a little noise in response. He trails the flat of his tongue up the valley of your breasts and over your exposed throat before kissing it, his hips lifting to you a bit as he does. He can’t wait to be buried inside of you.

“Up, baby. There’s a bed in the back room,” he says, tapping your thigh. You shimmy off of him, and he rises to full height. It doesn't take long for his lips to find you again. Kissing in a way that’s almost as violent as he is, you walk backward this time, making your way to the bedroom with Joel’s guidance.

It isn’t much, just skeletal remains of what was once a sanctuary. A duvet rests on the creaky old bed, its once vibrant pattern lost to time and dust. The room is mostly bare apart from the bed and a half-falling apart nightstand. Joel sits down on the bed and you fall to your knees in front of him. Your fingers hook under the elastic of his underwear, and his hips cant up to help you pull the fabric down and off his legs.

The cock that springs free is thick and long. You’re intimidated only momentarily until the need to feel him overwhelms you.

You spit into your palm and take his heavy member in your hand, before beginning to jerk him off. You slide your thumb across his swollen and red tip, your other hand gripping the thick, dark coarse hair against the base of him.

Joel’s eyes roll back into his head at the sensation of him in your soft palms. You bend forward and place his cock in the space between your breasts, you tilt your chin down and open your mouth so a long line of drool dribbles down to the cleft of your chest for lubrication, and then you squeeze the flesh around his length, rubbing up and down the entirety of him.

“Fuck nghh — that’s, ugh, that’s so good baby,” he grunts, his hands grabbing the nape of your neck.

And it is good. Almost too good.

“Darlin’, shit – ah, you gotta stop or I’m gonna come,” he says, his voice low.

“Maybe I want you to,” you purr, torn between making him coat your tits with come, or letting him fuck you first.

“No,” he says, voice more firm this time, “Gotta feel that perfect pussy before I do, baby girl,” he says, rising to full height, his arms wrapping under your armpits to bring you up with him. In one swift move, he has you turned and your back hits the mattress while a soft oof escapes your lungs.

Joel has a hazy, dark look in his eye as he hovers over you. His pupils are blown open wide with lust. You think he might fuck you then, but he looks down and notices that your pussy is still covered by the thin lace of your now-soiled panties. He kisses down your chest, your tummy, and his head eventually finds its place between your thighs. He plants a soft kiss on your mound, and he mutters how sweet he thinks you’re going to taste.

“Think we oughta find out,” he says, and he hooks his thumbs around the fabric and pulls them off your frame. Within seconds, his soft lips are on your wet folds.

"Fuck –,” you cry out as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy. Joel moans before making his tongue flat and massaging your clit with it. It’s so fucking good. "Taste so sweet, Darlin’, knew you would," Joel breathes, his breath hot against you.

He sinks a thick middle finger into you, and your walls clamp around the welcomed intrusion. His finger grazes against the soft spongy spot inside you that feels so good, and he works it in and out of you before adding another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so fucking close. You choke out a moan in response, enjoying the sensation of his long and thick fingers rubbing against your walls as his tongue makes tight circles around your sensitive clit.

You pull at your nipple with one hand and hold on to the top of his head, his hair entangled between your fingers as you attempt to hold on to him, an anchor to keep you from floating away, and he devours you.

His fingers thrust faster, his mouth firm on your throbbing bud, and he works to throw you over the cliff of your orgasm. You wail out, and the slurping groans that come from Joel are primal and filthy.

“Be a good girl for me,” he demands, his words barely audible with his mouth on your puffy lips, “want you to come,” he moans. “Come on pretty girl, I’ve got you – let me taste your sweet release.”

His dirty talk is all you need. "Yes, oh my god – Yes! Joel, fuck, I'm coming, don’t stop" you cry, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, your chest hot. Your vision goes white as you release yourself to him. Your back arches and your legs flex; your stomach feels like it’s being sucked into itself, and Joel works you through it, lapping up your come.

He rises from between your legs, his beard slick with your release, and smiles at you. As satisfied as you are at the moment, he’s the one that looks it. “Kiss me, darlin’,” he says, and his lips find yours. You savor the way it tastes; a hint of tang, but just so. You reach your hand in between your bodies to grab his cock, and he takes the hint.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he says, lining the entrance of his cock, the tip of it weeping with pre-cum, up against your wet and waiting hole. He presses his hips forward gently, and you begin to relax and flutter around him, feeling the subtle sting of an unfamiliar, yet not unpleasant, stretch.

“So big, feels so full, Joel,” you cry, “I know, baby. But I know she can handle it,” he coos, pressing impossibly deeper into you, until eventually he’s buried in you to the hilt. Underneath his solid frame, skin to skin, his cock firm inside of you, you feel your skin prickle hot and blood rushes through your ears. He fucks you equisitely, his chest crowding yours, but he bears the brunt of his weight on his forearms so as not to crush you too much.

He steadies like this for a while, before he eventually pushes himself up and grips the back of your knees. You follow his cue and pull them up, feet flat on the mattress beneath you. He folds them cross-cross onto your chest, obscenely stretching your needy hole around the girth of him.

You can’t breathe. He’s so big you swear you can feel him in your lungs. His cock drags in and out of you, making you shudder and your toes curl. The way he fucks you is so much – hard, deep, and passionate.

“You feel so good, Darlin’. Gripping me so fucking good, being such a good girl,” Joel moans.

“God, don’t stop, ugh I’m so close,” you say, eyes closing.

“Eyes open, baby. Want you to look at me while you come on my cock,” he says, as he takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger, demanding your attention.

Something snaps inside you, and your whole body tenses, and then releases in a sweet gush. “Jesus,” his blunt nails dig into the flesh of your hips before his jaw falls slack. With one more thrust, he loses himself, buried deep inside of you, your walls coaxing his balls empty. “Fuck, baby,” he growls as he empties everything inside you, finishing his climax with a guttural groan.

Joel pulls out, and you sigh at the loss of being full of him. He bends forward to press a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling sharp breaths, before falling to your side on the mattress.

You sit up onto your forearms, and a dribble of his release comes out of you. You grin down at him, surveying the damage. Joel’s complexion is pink, and his eyes are closed – he’s successfully been fucked into oblivion.

“Cmere, darlin’,” he says, eyes still closed, opening one arm open to welcome you into the warmth of his chest. You lay there, once again listening to his heart and the sounds of the rain on the grimy window in the room. You trail your index finger down his sternum.

“You know, I thought you hated me,” you say, your voice a little sad, but you know you need to get this off your chest. “I know you had to kill that guy because I wasn’t paying attention, and I really am sor–” Joel once again silences your sentence by placing his finger on your lips.

“Never say sorry to me again, Darlin’,” he says “‘sides, I’m the one who should be apologizin’, I’ve been a real asshole to you,” his voice sincere. “I just – I don’t know what I would ha’ done if I didn’t get to that guy in time, I’d never forgive myself if I lost you and could have prevented it.” His head drops to the pillow and he stares at the ceiling; your head finds it’s place once again the crook of his arm, nuzzled up against his side body for warmth.

There’s still so much more he wants to say, but he knows that he’ll have the time to do it later. He stares at the rough texture above him for a moment longer, before he quickly gets up, as if to remember something.

“Be right back,” he says and walks into the other room. He returns with a pack and pulls from it a little black container. “Found this during a raid the other day – thought of you,” he says, handing it to you. You jiggle it up by your ear and smile.

Film.

Joel Miller may be an asshole.

But he’s an asshole that most definitely doesn’t hate you.

END

Tagging moots and those who showed interest in the preview: @untamedheart81 @darkheartgatita @endlessthxxghts @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @bastardmandennis @dins-riduur-anthe @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @nosesitter @pedroswife69 @morallyinept @milly-louise @toxicanonymity @javiscigarette @planet-marz1 @anavatazes @dugiioh As always, please let me know if you want to be added or removed from my tag lists.xx

#joel miller the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #The last of us #enemies to lovers #pwp fics #pedro pascal character #joel miller #pedrohub #film photography

528 notes · View notes

netflix · 7 months

Text

Spotlight: Adam Stockhausen

Production Designer, The Wonderful Story Henry Sugar

Oscar winning production designer Adam Stockhausen (not pictured above, that’s Benedict Cumberbatch), whose work you may know from Wes Anderson films like The Grand Budapest Hotel, Asteroid City, The French Dispatch, Isle of Dogs, and Moonrise Kingdom, as well as titles like Bridge of Spies, and West Side Story (2021), took the time to answer some questions.

Which details from or aspects of The Wonderful Story Henry Sugar did you focus the most on while adapting it to the screen? How did you meld Roald Dahl and Wes’s worlds?

The details on this one started with Dahl’s writing hut! We matched the details pretty carefully and exactly. As soon as we step outside of the hut though we start to move through the world of the story and the world of the stage at the same time. Wes had the idea of how he wanted to do this from the very beginning. My main challenge was trying to figure out how to pull it off—making the parts move and getting each to have the right detail.

What’s a small change you made on a project that ended up having an unexpectedly significant impact?

Lots of times this happens—where what seems like a small thing at the time becomes a very significant turning point. I’m in Berlin now writing this and remembering being here scouting for East Berlin for Bridge of Spies. We were struggling to find a section of town that still felt old enough to show the early 60s, and decided to take a chance on a quick search in Poland. That quick search changed the whole production plan and ultimately gave us the look of our East Berlin.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Technology has definitely changed the way we plan the work. We used to model everything in cardboard or sometimes just plan in two dimensions with pencil and paper. We can now plan in 3-dimensional space using modeling programs and see what real lenses will do. This allows for more accurate planning and makes scenery moves like the casino set in Henry Sugar possible.

Do you have any signature easter eggs you like to leave? Any small details that you are particularly fond of?

I wouldn’t say there are easter eggs in this one. But there are loads of special details! I think my favorite might be the levitation boxes where we painted a perspective view of the background onto a prop box. The actor sitting on the box appears to be floating in a very special and theatrical way.

Did you talk about reflecting the iconic Quentin Blake illustrations in production design? How would you go about doing that?

Not really. They are such incredible drawings and I’d say they’ve been inspiring me since I saw them as a child! But for this the starting point was really the machine Wes devised to move us through the story—and pairing that to specific references scene by scene.

There is such an intentionality to the aesthetics of a Wes world. Is there a set or frame that took you a long time to get perfectly right?

All of them! It’s a very labor-intensive process getting these frames right. Occasionally one will click right away, but usually it’s a process of refining and refining. The jungle for instance went from sketches to models to samples and back again several times before the final look settled.

If you had to present one frame that showcases the best of your work, what would it be?

Oh my. Maybe the jungle? I really enjoyed making the jungle!

With all the moving sets in the trailer for The Wonderful Story Henry Sugar, it feels reminiscent of a theatre production. Are there distinct differences in approach between film and theatre and how much do you blur the lines between them in your work?

I think the lines are blurred completely! Or maybe they aren’t even there. I love that Henry Sugar is so incredibly theatrical in its storytelling. It allows us to show the artifice of the sets all the time which somehow makes them even more satisfying when they finally do line up and create a complete picture. I think the casino set is a perfect example—the pauses where it all lines up for a second are even more enjoyable because we get to see it broken apart and sliding away.

Thanks, Adam!

#spotlight #entertainment spotlight #adam stockhausen #wes anderson #production design #filmblr #wes weaving #web weaving

586 notes · View notes

annabelle--cane · 9 months

Text

it's fascinating to me the way that different social media platforms result in different types of fandom behavior. while s5 of tma was airing, I spent a good amount of time on tma tiktok (I log back in about once every two months now, going back to in-person school after a year a half of lockdown seem to re-blanace my brain and made me once again not really enjoy the format) while still using tumblr as my main socmed, and while there was a lot of overlap in the fan culture, some things were notably different.

tumblr tma fans had near-encyclopedic knowledge of the source material, but it was kind of an ongoing joke for tiktok tma fans that everyone binged the whole show in a week-long fugue state and lost memory of about 35% of it. tumblr has virtually no character limit and allows posts to be passed around by users indefinitely, which lends itself to fairly in-depth meta analysis being made and shared until most any fan could say "the time and space discrepancies at hill top road? psh yeah, I know all about them, I've read seven scrupulously cited posts that lay out all the details." for the entire time that s5 was airing, tiktok videos could still only be a minute long, and I know from a lot of personal effort that there's only so much you can fit into a one minute script that you also have to memorize and record (and cc manually with tiktok text stickers, as they didn't add the caption feature until april 2021) if you want the process to take less than four hours of your one mortal human life. and then you only see the video if your following or fyp algorithm shows it to you. there were a few tma meta-ish videos that got popular because other people would make their own videos referencing them and tag the account so their followers could see what they were talking about, but it's much harder to circulate content you like there. several times I saw people post videos saying "I got into cosplay to film some [agnes or annabelle or gerry or another secondary character] and I just realized I have no idea what their deal actually is 💀".

a thing that tiktok tma fandom was definitely better at than tumblr tma fandom was accurately remembering certain pieces of characterization and the flow of certain scenes. I've seen a bunch of posts on here where someone is trying to argue a point with excerpts from the text ("x character is nicer than you all give them credit for" "x character is so mean to y character in this scene" "z theory can't be true because y character said a line that disproves it") where the argument only holds up because the poster has gotten these excerpts from a transcript dive and hasn't listened to the episodes they're from recently, because while the text alone can be construed to mean one thing, the way it's delivered on-podcast clearly intends another. tiktok, being an audio and video based medium, allows audio clips to be shared around a lot, and cosplayers would often all make videos acting along to the same show clips of juicy interpersonal drama, and so tiktok fans, though they may have had less overall memory of what characters said, always had a better grasp on how they said it. an average tiktok tma fan might not have remembered melanie's subplot about war ghosts, but they would know the nuances of how the way she talks to jon changes between mag 28 and mag 155.

#prompted by Absolutely nothing #tma #marina marvels at life

857 notes · View notes

coconut-dreamz · 2 months

Text

you're losing me

'how long can we be a sad song' || tom blyth x reader

part two

a/n: i felt angsty and i love this song so i wanted to write something based off of it

you say, "i don't understand, " and i say, "i know you don't" we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won't

the fights felt as if they were never ending lately. it hadn't always been this way, but that felt like a lifetime ago. the problems had started when tom began filming for tbosas but they had ceased when filming for it wrapped. but your relationship wasn't the same as it was before. now it was time for promotions and the fights had started up once again.

"i don't understand! why do we keep having to have this fight over and over again!" tom shouted. you scoff in disbelief at his outburst. he didn't know why you felt so insecure and jealous? it wasn't like you had told him at least a dozen times before.

"you know what, just go on your tour alone. i don't want to ruin it with our fighting." you resign, taking your already packed suitcase back into the apartment, away from the door. "you should go, the cab's waiting." you tell him quietly, unable to look up from the ground.

he just sighs, "alright, i'll see you in a few weeks." staring at you, waiting for you to look up at him. " have a safe flight," you look up at him, but refuse to meet his eyes. he just thanks you and heads out the door.

remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time do I throw out everything we built or keep it?

you sat in the dark room of your shared apartment with tom. you had picked it because of the view of the city lights, but now it just felt cold and desolate, like nobody lived here. in all honesty, it hadn't been lived in for awhile. with tom gone for movie promotions, you hadn't been able to be here alone, opting to stay with a friend instead.

you don't know where to go from here. should you salvage what remained of your relationship with tom? or should you scrap everything and start new?

the latter choice had been seeming more and more appealing as of late. you hadn't heard from tom in days. at first you chalked it up to him being busy and the time difference, but you saw he posted a new croissant review and realized he was ignoring you. where had it all gone wrong?

i'm getting tired even for a phoenix always risin' from the ashes mendin' all her gashes you might just have dealt the final blow

you had made the mistake of watching one of tom's latest interviews with his costar rachel. you watched it because you'd missed him, but now that you'd watched it, you wished you just stayed missing him. you didn't miss the way they looked at each other. it'd been so long since you'd looked at each other like that. your eyes were always filled with rage or tears whenever you saw him lately.

you were just so tired of it all. you contemplated texting him and breaking things off. it'd be a whole lot easier that way. maybe the weight on your chest would be lifted. but a part of you didn't want to let go of him. he'd been your everything once.

stop, you're losin' me i can't find a pulse my heart won't start anymore for you 'cause you're losin' me

"how are you baby?" tom asks, his voice cutting through the silence, breaking you out of your reverie. he managed to find some time to call you while on his press tour. "huh? oh, i'm fine. how are you? how's press tour going?" you ask absentmindedly, hearing you ask about tour sparked a light in tom's eyes. he started rambling about the antics he and his cast mates had been up to.

you smiled fondly hearing him talk, until he mentioned rachel. she'd been a sore spot in your relationship lately. the mere mention of her name left a sour taste in your mouth. the grin on your face immediately swept off.

"it's getting late, i think i'm gonna go to bed. i hope the rest of your tour goes well," you fake a smile, trying to hurry to end the facetime call. "oh, i guess it is late over there. i love you, sleep well.” he bids you a goodnight. "love you," you reply and end the call. you bury yourself in your blankets, tired of the emotional turmoil that was caused by your relationship lately.

every mornin', i glared at you with storms in my eyes how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? i sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick my face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick

you'd lost the glow your skin once had. it'd became increasingly noticeable to those around you. your makeup artist had to try harder to make it less noticeable on red carpets and photo shoots. but it was all in vain, everyone noticed how you'd looked sickly lately, everyone but tom.

or, if he did, he didn't mention anything about it. "you look great." he complimented as you two climbed into the car that was to take you to the premiere of his film. it had taken your makeup artist a lot longer than usual to do your makeup, having to cover up the blemishes and gray tone of your skin from the lack of care you'd given yourself lately. you’d been opting to lay around in bed, moping.

"thanks," you mutter as the car begins to move. you picked at your nails, something you'd picked up lately to help deal with your nerves. you no longer could have any type of nails, you'd bit them down to nubs lately. but tom didn't seem to have noticed. he didn't seem to notice anything about you lately.

and the air is thick with loss and indecision i know my pain is such an imposition now, you're runnin' down the hallway and you know what they all say you don't know what you got until it's gone

"stop! where are you going?" shit. you stop dead in your tracks, tom was home early for once. you'd thought he wouldn't back for another day or two. "did you hear me?" he makes his way in front of you. you try avoiding his gaze, but it was difficult when his icy blue eyes stared into your soul.

you tried to formulate the words to tell him it was over. "i'm leaving." you finally managed to say. his concerned eyes turn frantic at your words. "what?" he whispers out, grabbing your hand. "you're leaving? why?" you take a breath, you tried leaving when he was gone because you couldn't face him. "things haven't been the same lately. i think we need a break. i'm going to stay with a friend. i'll come back for the rest of my things later. i think it's best if we don't talk for awhile." you manage out, finally meeting his eyes.

what a mistake. his previously concerned eyes were now filled with sadness. you tried moving past him to your car. he grabs your hand one more time, "can you at least tell me what's wrong?" you sigh hearing this, "i think you know why, tom." is all you answer, dragging your suitcase behind you.

how long could we be a sad song 'til we were too far gone to bring back to life? i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier fighting in only your army frontlines , don't you ignore me

it'd been a few weeks since you'd moved out of your shared apartment with tom. you felt relieved when you had finally walked out of the apartment. it had been feeling less like a home and more like a prison lately. you felt stuck in time in there. everyone around you was moving forward their lives, your friends, family and especially tom, but there you were. stuck waiting around for tom to give you the time of day.

you'd spend too long waiting around for your relationship to go back to how it once was. you'd given that relationship your all but got the bare minimum back in return. you should've called time of death on it months ago, but a big part of you wasn't ready to let go. you had spent your best years with him after all.

and i wouldn't marry me either a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her

you and tom used to talk about the future all the time. laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and giggling about your thoughts on what the future had in store. you told him about your dream wedding and he told you about how he wanted a cozy home with a big yard for your future children.

but that seemed so far in the past. you suppose he changed his mind. who'd want to marry a person who'd give every piece of themselves for someone who won't even bat an eye at them? you'd given him your all in the last year of your relationship, but had gotten nothing in return. all in an attempt to bring back what you both once had.

and i'm fadin', thinkin' "do something, babe, say something" "lose something, babe, risk something" "choose something, babe, i got nothing to believe unless you're choosin' me"

you laid in the makeshift bed of your friend’s studio apartment waiting for tom to reach out. you were aware of what you had told him, but you wanted to see if he truly did care about your relationship.

it hurt to see him happy on set of billy the kid. you followed his castmates and it hurt to see the snippets of him on their stories. he looked so happy and carefree. the exact opposite of how you were feeling and probably looked.

you hoped he was just respecting your wishes of having no contact for a few weeks, but the small voice in the back of your mind was screaming that he didn't care. that he was happier without you, that he was better off now that you were gone.

you're losin' me stop, you're losin' me stop, you're losin' me i can't find a pulse my heart won't start anymore

a constant buzzing woke you up from your deep sleep. you blindly search for your phone. when you find it, the clock shows that it's exactly 12 in the morning. you hit answer without looking at the contact. "hello?" you answer, your voice raspy from lack of use.

"love? it's me, tom. it's been exactly 6 weeks like you said. can we finally talk?"

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth angst

234 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 21 days

Text

Propaganda

Elizabeth Taylor (Cleopatra, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof)—iconic actress with purple eyes and a double row of eyelashes, the real ebony dementia ravenway of old hollywood. known for her stunning tastes when it comes to jewelry and her incredible, incredible advocacy during the AIDS crisis.

Clara Bow (Wings, It)—The original It Girl (literally), Clara was the epitome of a flapper film star. She was obviously a looker, but it was her acting that won over hearts. Watch the movie It (no clowns) to get a sense of her charms. And while she's most known for her silents, (including Wings, the winner of the first ever Best Picture Academy award) she did make some talkies! Contrary to popular belief, sound films didn't ruin her career; she reportedly just hated the process of making them. She had a really interesting background and it's a shame she's not as well remembered as others of her time.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Elizabeth Taylor:

I've been trying to steer clear of the absurdly-big names, but damnit, those violet eyes got me. The *talent*, the *presence*, the string of marriages and (temporally out-of-bounds) work in combating AIDS and pioneering in the concept of the celebrity fragrance line.

Not only did she have gorgeous violet eyes and lashes for days and one of the hottest voices ever, she was also a big supporter of the gay community

Child actress turned starlet, Liz dominated films as one of the greatest screen legends of classic hollywood. If your protagonist has violet eyes, they're imitating hers.

A Legend. She was serving milf rage in Whos Afraid Of Virginia Woolf. A Star in every sense of the word.

She was renowned for the beauty of her eyes; they were a dark blue but could look violet in certain lighting, something that photographers would actually touch up to look even more so in pictures. But even more striking was a genetic mutation that gave her a double row of eyelashes. She was also famed for her string of husbands -- 8 marriages to 7 men. Two-time hubby Richard Burton once said she was “a wildly exciting love-mistress… beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.”

Her EYES. Early and loud support for gay rights and AIDS victims. Married a bunch of hot dudes, Burton twice!

just look at her. she's gorgeous. there's a video somewhere of her applying her eyeliner in the mirror and I think about it all the time

THE Hollywood actress of all time. Not only was she known for her long dark locks and blue-violet eyes, she also had one of the wildest life stories ever….. She’s Carrie Fisher’s stepmother because her father Eddie Fisher cheated on Debbie Reynolds with Liz. She was knighted as a dame of England. She was married to seven different men, one of them twice. She was also very kindhearted and did a lot of charity activism.

Asides from being an iconic actor, she did a lot of philanthropy and co founded the American Foundation for AIDS research. She’s sometimes considered one of the last great stars of old hollywood

Clara Bow:

The original it girl! Flapper icon! She's sooo fun and charming and confident, it just shines through any film or picture you see of her.

I love love love her genderbendy boy style and her cute twinkly performances!! watch wings i s2g she absolutely brings it

She has gorgeous doe eyes, how can you not love her?

She's literally THE It Girl. Like actually, she's the term's namesake. She was an extremely prolific silent film actress with a reputation for wild behavior who defined the 20s flapper era. Her boyish frame, androgynous style, and red curly hair were widely emulated.

#clara bow #elizabeth taylor #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

232 notes · View notes

melon-kiss · 3 months

Text

I know some of you don't speak Polish and we can't afford to translate 40-min-long chaotic interviews for you and I'm a bit bored (meaning: my brain wants a break from writing but I'm stubborn and I want to finish it TODAY), so I thought I'd give you a bit of a trivia based on interviews with the actors and the crew of 1670:

throughout all the interviews, no one really asked if we're getting season 2. I mean, someone did and the response was: "Well, we know nothing" but nobody really asked if they had any IDEA about what would happen in the next season

I'm not sure about the actors but the creative and directive levels went to a series of lectures on how people lived in Poland in the XVII century

they received a substantial funding, especially considering the directors were complete "no-names"

filming took 3 months, December through February 2022 if I recall

they all lived in an open-air museum in Kolbuszowa; in fact, almost all of the building were already there, they only had to build the house, the barn and the forge

there was no delay in filming, which is apparently rare in the industry but that was because they had a very tight schedule and couldn't afford staying longer in the museum

the last episode was filmed on one day and that was the last day of filming and because of technical issues with cameras working in the inn (the short shot of Maciej serving the pig to the Adamczewskis' table had to be re-done 20 times!), they had to completely rearrange the wedding party scenes, turning them into long shots; the entire labor/dancing scenes were supposed to be shot from 13 (!) different perspectives and be arranged in a "music video fashion"

one of the first episodes (if not THE first episode) to be filmed was episode 7

the script was written with Bartłomiej Topa (Jan Paweł) in mind, however, the actor wasn't really convinced about participating in this project and took his sweet, sweet time to decide on it; same goes to Dobromir Dymecki (Bogdan). Topa says it wasn't because he didn't find it good - it was because he was afraid that the project would be underfunded and therefore fail as projects like that usually don't get the attention they need in Poland

Bartłomiej Topa said he portrayed Jan Paweł as evil and conniving for the first two weeks of being on the set and the first scene they recorded was the one with the "Adamczycha" sign falling down; only after that time, after one scene in particular (don't remember which one, sorry), he finally saw the true nature of his character and changed his approach to the portrayal

surprisingly, Michał Sikorski (father Jakub), unlike Topa, thought of his character as a silly, innocent man and he changed his mind only after seeing the Aniela-Maciej dance scene where he says Love is peaceful, love is kind, love is... unacceptable - he understood he got to play a villain

the actors were FORBIDDEN to improvise; their lines had to be memorised prior to filming

they shot the barrel-cleaning scene (the thing they do before blowing the magnate's son's head up) for 2h because Bartłomiej Topa and Andrzej Kłak (well, he plays Andrzej) couldn't stop laughing; Topa mentions he doesn't even remember how they managed to get it done

all the mud was brought there ON PURPOSE

Kirył Pietruczuk (Maciej) is a debutante when it comes to film, however, he is the only actor in the crew with an acting degree; not only that - he graduated with honors

when asked about this, Michał Sikorski said: "Well, but it doesn't matter, does it? Because, even thought I haven't graduated, I got to play a nobleman and he... well..." (obv that was A JOKE; he is like the sweetest person ever!)

he also said he wrote a "Maciej's journal" during filming and spent a lot of time creating a backstory for his character; he said it was helping with the a-chronical shooting; he read one of the entries out loud in his interview

he jokingly said his favourite episode is the last one because he got to kiss Martyna (Aniela) there

as mentioned before, casting Maciej's role took the longest. They interviewed about 300 candidates and none of them fit. Kirył recalls it was right after he signed a deal with an agency for the first time in his life and he immediately received a call after his first cinema audition and it was 1670, of course! However, he reports that the process was extremely long - he had to go through several stages, each one of them revealing more and more of the script and he wasn't informed it would take that long

The creators said they looked for someone who'd understand the character and his role in the film - as he is the eyes and ears for us, people from XXI century. "He's basically like a viewer of the events, one of us", Kordian Kądziela (director, episodes 5-8) says. It was important he had a good chemistry with Martyna (she was the first and only "Aniela" he had to do short scenes with and the chemistry was immediate) and was able to break the fourth wall properly - he had to have the talent to comment current events with just one look and I personally think he does it perfectly. The actor was also supposed to be "easily likeable by girls"

The first scene they shot together - meaning as Aniela and Maciej - was the dance scene and Kirył says it's his favourite scene in the entire show

Kirył said the scene with the magnate's son was initially very aggressive on his part, however, after speaking to the directors, he decided to tone it down as it was, indeed, not fit for the character to be this angry

they all said, once they got down to it, they had a feeling they were a part of something special

Feel free to add your trivia or correct me if I'm wrong.

#1670 #1670 netflix

228 notes · View notes

reloha · 8 months

Text

Jacobi and McKellen as grand marshals of New York City's 2015 pride march.

All Good Omens (show) fans will know Derek Jacobi as the Metatron. His brief role on Doctor Who is also getting a lot of mention in recent posts, but I'm not going to talk about any of that.

Like his Vicious co-star Ian McKellen, Jacobi has had a long and illustrious career in theatre, television, and film. McKellen and Jacobi met when they were at Cambridge.

I'm not a huge fan of the Daily Mail, but this article, an interview with the two actors, is quite interesting. I'll just quote this part:

Jacobi says he came out to his mother when he was at university. ‘She said, “All young men, go through this phase, don’t worry.” I remember saying, “Don’t tell Dad.”’ He doesn’t know to this day if she did. ‘I think she did, but I don’t know. But they were wonderful, my parents, not much was said but they kind of knew, they got it.’

McKellen hasn’t heard his friend talk of this before. ‘That’s the first time I’ve heard that,’ he says, genuinely moved. ‘I never came out to my family. Biggest regret of my life.’ It turns out he didn’t even come out to Derek at university, even though it’s always been reported that he had something of a crush on him.

‘Yes, I did fancy Derek, but I didn’t act on it, God, no. It was illegal, remember. I do get on my high horse about it, because it was so difficult. There were no gay clubs you could go to. No gay bars, no gay newspaper, nothing. What there was was a bit sleazy, I suspect. One of the reasons I became an actor was that you could meet gay people. Even then everything was difficult. When you went to America they asked, “Are you now, or have you ever been, homosexual?” I lied on the form. It was a different world.’

I want to talk about Vicious for a bit, the ITV britcom in which Derek Jacobi and Ian McKellen play an aging gay couple, (respectively) a homemaker, Stuart Bixby, and an actor, Freddie Thornhill, for fourteen episodes.

Freddie (McKellen) tells Stuart (Jacobi) about a part he's hoping to get.

I had to add these for the Broadchurch reference.

It's a law that British actors of a certain age play this part.

I couldn't find one with Michael Sheen and the skull, but here he is in the role.

McKellen did the part again at 81 in an age-blind production.

Jacobi's big breakout was the titular role in I, Claudius on the BBC in 1976.

In the '90s, Jacobi played amateur sleuth and 12th century monk, Brother Cadfael on the ITV series.

I had watched some of Vicious before, but, spurred on by Jacobi's reappearance on Good Omens, looked for it again and watched both seasons a couple of weeks ago. Because I love a good fancast and Jacobi and Sheen (at least as Aziraphale) remind me a little of each other, I couldn't help but think that Jacobi and McKellen in their youth could have played a version of Aziraphale and Crowley. (There have been a couple of posts noting this about Jacobi, and that he might have been up for the part if it had been done soon after the book came out.)

Jacobi, left, and McKellen, right (obviously).

I also think that Tennant and Sheen could have pulled off playing Freddie and Stuart in a flashback.

An even younger version of Freddie and Stuart does appear in the series, however, played by Luke Treadaway and Samuel Barnett.

Also good casting! They do a great job playing McKellen and Jacobi playing Freddie and Stuart.

Shoutout to this post by @ember-knights, that suggested Good Omens fans should check out Vicious for a glimpse of what life in the South Downs cottage might be. And also to other posts mentioning Vicious and Good Omens in the same breath, as well as comparing Sheen and Tennant to Jacobi and McKellen (which I probably reblogged but can't find right now).

Cast of Vicious: Frances de la Tour, Iwan Rheon, Philip Voss, Ian McKellen, Derek Jacobi, Marcia Warren (Wikipedia). (Yes, the upstairs neighbor (Rheon) does go on to play Ramsay Bolton on Game of Thrones. He's a sweetheart in this, though.)

Now, I don't think Crowley and Aziraphale are the same as Freddie and Stuart, by any means. Freddie and Stuart say quite cruel things to each other. The characters become deeper in the second season; it’s a little sweeter than the first. I enjoy the bitterness of the first season too, though. It is funny, and Good Omens fans may enjoy watching it if only to see Derek Jacobi (who plays the Metatron) in a comedy role and a role that's sympathetic, especially if they are not familiar with his large and impressive body of work.

I don't think Aziraphale and Crowley's life in the bookshop as a couple, not just a group of two, or life on the South Downs, would be exactly like this, but there are somehow some similarities that I don't even know how to begin to pinpoint or explicate.

Crowley and Aziraphale’s affection is always so palpable and that’s not always clear with Freddie and Stuart. Crowley and Aziraphale are so loving that, even when they're bickering, it's joyful, even when they're arguing, even when they're coming apart (temporarily) at the seams, their love is undeniable. I don’t even think their breakup was toxic; although they were desperate at that point and hurt each other badly, it wasn't what they wanted. Sometimes it's that way.

And, lest I'm putting you off Vicious here, the Ineffable Husbands are a high bar as love stories go, but you will get to see some love and affection between Freddie and Stuart too, and I'd really love to see these actors work together more. (I am happy with how the show ends up, by the way.)

Toodle-loo! Hope everything is tickety-boo with you.

#Good Omens spoilers #Good Omens #Good Omens viewpoints #Derek Jacobi #Ian McKellen #Vicious #Derek Jacobi appreciation post #***Good Omens #tickety boo

469 notes · View notes

bangtaninborderland · 1 year

Text

KNJ- Not so dinner date.

It’s late when you arrive home, the lights are off and the regular sounds of your boyfriend are null. You sigh as you shake off your jacket, sliding off your shoes only to replace them with house slippers.

The clock above the refrigerator is the only light in the kitchen and as dim as it is you don’t flick on a light, instead you slouch at the table snacking on the random fruits Namjoon had piled into a bowl.

The truth is you loved your boyfriend with your entire heart, there wasn’t ever a time when you felt as if you wanted to be away from him. Of course, his job as an idol was one that put distance between you, your own job not accommodating time for you to travel as often as he did but you still made it work.

“Baby?”

You almost jump out of your skin as you whip your head around to see him sulking towards you, his shoulders hunched over.

“I thought you were sleeping joonie, did I wake you?” You stood up, closing the space between you to wrap your arms around his middle.

You breathed in his smell, finding comfort in it. He had been addicted to this new rain forest scented fabric conditioner that Jungkook had introduced him to, he had explained to you for the hours BTS had to wait during music shows just how the different scents were drawn from different plants and trees and although you didn’t completely understand it you did your best to keep up.

“You didn’t wake me, I waited up. Do you want to order some food or did you eat?”

You shake your head reluctantly. “Joon it’s 11 pm, you have work tomorrow.”

“However could I work if I starved to death?”he groaned frantically, feigning a laugh.

You quirked an eyebrow. “You haven’t eaten?”

“I did. Sort of.”

“Ramen does not count.”

“I did not.”

“How about we order fried chicken?” You smile.

Your first date had been at a park with awful fried chicken that you had gotten from a definitely dodgy van. You had both gotten stomach aches and ended up being treated at the hospital for food poisoning, through your short but required hospital stay you were put next to each other and despite the way you were both doubling over in cramps every few minutes you made the most of the time with one another, learning as much as you could.

He leads you over to the couch, pulling you into his arms. “You really want fried chicken?”

“It’s fast, just chose a good place.” You shrug earning a playful pinch from him.

A lot of your firsts happened over the simple meal, your first fight had occurred over it. You had only been dating a few weeks and Namjoon had gotten extremely busy planning a comeback with his members, it had left you barely any time with the man responding once a day if you were lucky. He had hauled himself up into his studio for almost a week straight refusing to do anything other than work on music. You were worried when Taehyung, whom you had only met twice prior, had called to ask for backup. You had stormed into the hybe building holding a box of fried chicken from his favourite place, you punched the code into his studio earning a harsh reprimanding from him as you demanded he saved his work and step away from the computer. He had argued how you couldn’t understand his stress and how it wasn’t going to work out between you, he had told you to leave and that you were just like everyone else; misjudging him. You remember the way his jaw fell open as you threw a pillow straight at him mid-rant. Soon enough he sat beside you on his little couch and picked at his chicken before devouring it in minutes. You had forced him to take you home where you had a three-hour-long conversation that ended up in him falling asleep in your lap.

“I ordered, it will be here in a little.” He threw his phone against the table.

You run your hands through his newly dyed hair, you always loved how black hair looked on him. “How was work today baby?”

“We filmed a run episode and I nearly won.” He smiled pridefully. “When will you come next?”

“I have been given tomorrow and Friday off if you want me to come with you?” It wasn’t a complete lie, you had requested the days off in order to make time for him.

He pushes you back a little, allowing a clearer look at your face. “Really? That soon?”

You smile at him nodding. “I guess I got lucky.”

“I don’t have work tomorrow, though.”

“Then stay home with me?” You smile, placing a kiss to his lips.

He says nothing but affirms by kissing you back before pressing a few more to your forehead.

You sat talking about your days until the food came 25 minutes later. As always you had requested to have it left at the door, it was always safer that way. After waiting for the driver to place the food outside and to leave the building Namjoon snuck outside to grab it.

You help set it out on the table as he put on a random show. You ate In silence watching the tv until a thought crossed your mind that you had to resolve.

“Joon can I ask you something?”

He looks at you worried, pausing the TV before turning to you. “Anything.”

“Do you ever wish we were different people? Maybe just farmers or something..” you half-joked, pushing your almost-finished meal aside.

“If you want a farmer you should try Jin Hyung or Taehyung.”

You can’t help but laugh as he flashes you a dimpled smile. “No I haven’t, amidst all the stress and lack of time we have with one another I could ever imagine being with someone different.”

“Why?” You watch his face twist in thought.

He hums for a moment before responding. “I love you. I liked you and then I loved you and in that time I learned that I’d rather have one day with you than a hundred days with anyone else.”

You let the weight of his words settle before responding. “You know joonie we have a lot of firsts over fried chicken.”

“What’s the first this time?” He laughs pushing his own food away before leaning back against the couch.

You started. “I could come home to an empty house for the entirety of your tour but I wouldn’t have it any other way because my heart is with you always and I know for every day you go we will have a week to make up for it. I was scared at first, scared we wouldn’t work, that you’d get too busy and forget about me but it’s small moments like these that give me the most clarification on my wants for the future.”

“And what are those wants?” He holds your hand in between his, something he does to show he is paying the utmost attention to you.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to eat fried chicken with you at midnight even though we have to be awake at 6 am, I want to share the excitement of what trees have their DNA stolen to make up fabric softeners you like, I want to be the one to give you comfort and happiness along with my unbridled support.”

“I want to give you the world.” He says the words softly but you know there’s a weight that they bare. “And I will but for now can I have your last wing?”

You scoff shoving the man off the couch onto the floor. “Unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable enough that I can have your last wing?” He eyes your chicken box and you raise a threatening finger.

“Don’t you dare.”

Before you could say anything he had already grabbed the box and ran halfway through the house, you cursed his long legs for aiding his getaway.

“Touch my chicken and your Pokémon cards get it.” You threaten.

You can’t help but laugh at his footsteps slap against the tiled flooring. “LEAVE MY CARDS ALONE”

“Give me my chicken wing.” You hold your hand out, as he does the same. You hand over his extra large Pokémon folder as he does your chicken box.

“Hey?” He calls as you turn to head back to the couch, box in hand.

He grins at you, before holding his arms out, one hand bearing his folder and the other your chicken wing.

“KIM NAMJOON!” You throw yourself over the couch as he scurries off.

About twenty minutes of play fighting and chasing later you both collapse on the bed in a laughing bundle. “I can’t wait to tell Yoongi Hyung we wrestled over a chicken wing.” Namjoon giggled.

“He would be horrified.” Your eyes widened.

“He would, he would probably lecture us on why we should never eat fried chicken again.”

A bout of silence befalls you before a great idea comes to mind. “Let’s call him and tell him we broke up over fried chicken.”

“You have such a sexy brain. He will go insane.” He agreed rushing to grab his phone.

You smiled at the ceiling, memorising the events of your not-so-dinner date. This is exactly why you made it work, because even at midnight you could run around and laugh with him, you could have thorough discussions and most importantly you would both indulge e in listening and sometimes enacting your wildest thoughts. Even if it did mean annoying a poor Min yoongi over Fried chicken on a Wednesday night.

1K notes · View notes