#the willem dafoe challenge

[red-riding-wood]

Verum Vindictae - I

Masterlist, Chpt. II

Pairing: Marcus x OC (Josephine "Jo" Carlisle)

Fandom: John Wick (2014)

Summary: Bound by a blood oath she made fourteen years ago, Jo is desperately trying to escape a world she used to dream of when she is tasked with killing the infamous "Baba Yaga" and must face the truth of her past as everything she has ever known unravels around her.

WARNINGS: violence, language, eventual explicit sexual content

Notes: Okay this could probably use some editing lol but oh well. One of my current WIP novellas.

This story is part of my Willem Dafoe Challenge.

Taglist: @glitter-and-gasoline, @giona45-5, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @emilynightshade89

18:05, October 21st

“I need you to kill John Wick.”

The words still lingered in the back of my mind, drowned out not even by the sheets of rain that splattered the pavement of New York, that pummeled the umbrella that I clutched with numb, icy fingers. They were the very words that had sentenced me, the very words that had made the past fourteen years all for nothing. The very words that had shattered my existence – or my hope of one – in just a few seconds.

As I walked, I paid attention this time to the advertisements in the shop windows, on their TV screens, in an attempt to distract myself, to bring even a semblance of normalcy to the circumstances I had found myself in.

One of the screens was alight with flame; tendrils of bright orange lapped at the black smoke that poured from the windows of a suburban house.   

I snapped my head away, my heart quickening in my chest, the stench of smoke seeming to cloud the damp, Autumn air, the roar of the flames making the rain soundless for a few moments. I brought my arm up to shield my face from the heat.

My lungs ached from how much I screamed, wailing something blood-curdling into air thick with smoke. I must’ve been dying. Someone’s arms wrapped around my fragile body, and I buried my face in the fabric of their shirt, sputtering pitifully to expel my lungs of this cruel calamity. I wasn’t sure who it was, couldn’t smell them past the horrid stench of the fire.

A jolt passed through me as a beam, white-hot with fire, came tumbling beside us, my saviour lurching to the side and holding me tighter.  I threw my arm up, the heat attacking the side of my face, stinging my tear-streaked eye. And then, cold washed over me, and I let a shaking arm fall around their shoulder, and my head was light, the world spinning, but the last thing I saw was the house lit like a torch, an orange flash, bright in the dark of night.

My eyes darted to another store window, my breath coming shaky from my lungs as I lowered my arm. A few confused stares bore into me, but I ignored them, focusing instead on the merchandise behind the glass.

Costumes, colourful and lurid, lining racks. Pink tutus, elegant leotards in every shade, flowy skirts and dresses and sequined purple top hats. There was an odd, unsettling familiarity, and so I let my gaze travel to the shoes positioned in the store window. Black jazz shoes, tap shoes that glinted with metal outsoles, and a pair of ballet slippers, stark white save for the beads of crimson that speckled them.

My heart seized, and my ankles seemed to ache beneath me as I walked, and I blinked.

The red was gone.

Every limb held rigid, my toes screaming at me in pain, my heart in my throat as I moved not in beauty or grace but in fear. The stern gaze of my mentor on every flick of my fingers, every dart of my feet.

Pain like I’d never felt before shot through the nerve of my leg up to my spine, and I plummeted, my vision undulating. I collapsed on the stage in a tangle of my own limbs, my fingers reaching gingerly for the misshapen ankle that bled, speckling my white slippers in an awful shade of red.  

I was going to die, and the worst moments of my life were flashing before my eyes.

I couldn’t kill John. He’d been the one to help clean my slippers, been the one to tell me that someday, he’d get me out of there, that someday, I wouldn’t have to dance for anyone, wouldn’t have to be a slave to anyone.

He’d been wrong about that last part, of course. Funny, how things worked out. But that wasn’t his fault; it was mine. I had chosen this path. I had chosen vengeance and murder. It was my blood on that marker, not his.

I waved over a taxi, and sunk into the backseat, my black overcoat and raven locks blending with the darkness of the faux leather. I wished to disappear, to be gone from the nightmare that was this life, to no longer look over my shoulder and wonder if each face I passed on the streets was out to get me.

The taxi pulled in front of the Continental – a towering edifice sat nestled between tree-shadowed roads that branched into a somewhat quiet intersection. The structure had never ceased to amaze me when I was younger, even before it had been remodeled, but now was a sight to behold to anyone – the ivy, growing along otherwise seemingly-untouched architecture, the modern outdoor sconces that sat nestled between each pillar in the vintage colonnade either side of the gold-accented doors.

It was my only safe-house; the Continental, for years, had served as the only grounds that assassins were forbidden from conducting business on. But that wasn’t why I was here.

I folded my umbrella as I came beneath the awning: a black canopy marked with the letter “C”.

Upon entering the Continental, the roar of the heavy rain all but ceased, replaced by the subtle notes of classical music and the faint hum of activity in the lobby. My boots seemed to strike the marbled floors with a piercing conviction, catching the attention of the concierge – a familiar, friendly face.

Fourteen years, Charon had been nothing but kind to me. Though I knew it was all because I was living in Baba Yaga’s shadow, I couldn’t help but feel a certain comfort when he greeted me, the subtle lamplight gleaming in the frames of his glasses and the hint of a warm smile quirking at his lip.

“A pleasure seeing you, Miss Carlisle,” the concierge said.

I dipped my head slightly in acknowledgment, but, like John, I wasn’t one for formalities – especially not when I was on a job.

“Has John been here?” I asked.

Charon’s gaze bore into mine for a second or two, but his hint of a smile never faded. “Mr. Wick? Yes, he checked in earlier this afternoon.”

“I need to see him,” I said. “What room?”

“Miss, you know I cannot disclose that information.”

I nodded slowly, and bit my lip. Everyone at the Continental was bound by a code, the same code that forbade violence on the grounds. It transcended business, rivalries, markers and even family. Because everyone knew what happened when you broke it.

“The usual?” I asked Charon. John had always favoured a suite on the seventh floor. Habits. Even the most feared hitmen couldn’t seem to break them.

Charon said nothing, but his gaze told me enough.

“Thank you,” I said, and dipped my fingers into the pocket of my overcoat. I withdrew a gold coin and slid it across the marbled counter.

Charon’s eyes darted down to the coin, and he asked as he slipped it into the register below the desk, “Would you like a room, Miss Carlisle?”

I hesitated. Occasionally, I’d stayed at the Continental when it was more convenient for business, or when my boss became too insufferable, but I’d always had a home to return to. Now I was truly on my own, and I needed a place to stay.

“Yes, please,” I said, and slid another coin across the counter.

Charon handed me a room key, and said, “I believe Mr. Wick is out on business at the moment. May I suggest a drink at the bar?”

As I tucked the key into my pocket, my stomach clenched. Though I shouldn’t have doubted John’s capability in conducting said business, the little girl in me who’d found solace in his company when our mentor had pushed me too hard, who’d once cried into his shoulder, had seen him as a brother – she couldn’t help but fear for him, no matter how infamous he’d become. 

Deft but vicious in their movements, they had all the elegance of the dancers, but none of the refined absence of freedom. They bled from savage blows, not pointed toes or fractured ankles. One boy, his dark hair tied back from hard-set eyes, fought as if he were dancing, though each movement was unpredictable. Graceful yet raw. I could’ve watched them spar for hours.

The boy was quick to pin his opponent to the ground, and their instructor uttered some words in Russian – a language I was still learning –, seeming to dismiss them. The trainees dispersed, and the boy let down his hair to his shoulders, seemingly eager to be unbound by the customs of the Ruska Room.

I had received my ballet slippers that morning, and they were held stiffly in one hand as I approached the boy – practically waddled over, for my legs were so short.

His gaze lowered to me instantly, though his face was void of emotion, brown eyes still cold as the earth, brows still strung by a faint knit. 

“Can you teach me?” I asked him.

His gaze wandered to the slippers I clutched beside me, and then back to my eyes. “Maybe when you’re older.”

“Miss Carlisle?”

Charon’s voice snapped me from the memory, pulled me from the rich incense and bitter vodka and the tincture of sweat and the sharp commands in a once-foreign tongue.

“Yes, thank you,” I said, the faintest tinge of my old accent bleeding through my words, and he told me to enjoy my stay, as per usual, though my feet guided me almost insensibly through the halls to the club.

The bright marble of the lobby was a stark contrast to the club; I found myself swathed in its mellowed lighting of shamrock and tangerine, ensconced in the slightly-more upbeat notes of the live jazz music played by a bedazzled singer and her band. Rich, red curtains were strung alongside the wall adjacent to the bar, where several members of the Continental sipped at martinis and cocktails.

The dining area was densely-populated at this hour, many couples and singles seated at small, white-clothed tables near the stage. The red-black, half-circle booths that lined the darker, quieter corners of the club were seldom occupied, most usually reserved. But my eye caught on one occupant, a bright amber eye flashing like a torch in the dim light, the other half of his face obscured by that mask I knew all too well, the collar of a black coat tugged up around his neck as if he were hiding something.

His one-eyed stare was immediately on me, freezing my stride in the middle of the dining area, my spine setting itself rigid.

Only when a woman stopped to pay him a greeting did our gazes break, did the breath return to my lungs. I scowled, watching as a couple others took notice of his presence and went to exchange greetings.

Cain was one of the most renowned assassins in the hotel. Though he boasted nowhere near the same accomplishments as Baba Yaga, he still had his tales told in hushed tones by those in the business, like the couple that sat beside me, glancing over to him and whispering bashfully in each other’s ears.

These tales were all true, because they were my tales. I should’ve been the one that they were whispering about.

I turned on my heel and started towards the bar, smoothing out my overcoat as I took a seat on one of the tall stools. No sooner did I take a seat did my phone buzz in my pocket, and as I went to reach for it, my fingers just barely ghosting across the case, my head snapped to my left, where the man beside me drew his attention from his drink to his own pocket. He procured his phone.

I dug mine out, heart thudding wildly in my chest, and nearly fumbled for the unlock button. My screen read:

ANONYMOUS CONTRACT. JONATHAN WICK. 2 MIL.

My heart plummeted into my gut, and I shoved the device back in my pocket, swallowing past a suddenly-dry throat. I cast my gaze around the club, at every face, now lit by the light of their phone screens, now big-eyed and awed. Everyone was whispering now; everyone was speaking in mad, hushed tones.

I had anticipated that the name on that contract would’ve been mine, but this… this was worse.

“Let me try,” he said, taking the slipper from the hands that I’d practically scrubbed raw in an attempt to work out the stains of my blood.

Tension was released from my diaphragm in a shaky mess of a sigh, and my fingers, ruddy and chafed, trembled. Once finished my feat of raw adrenaline, I collapsed, back sinking against the side of the tub and my tailbone hitting the ceramic floor with a sharp jolt of pain. But it was nothing in comparison to the ankle that brushed the tiles the wrong way as my leg folded before me. Spilled, soapy water seeped into the cast, and I couldn’t suppress my whimper as every nerve  screamed at me, pain coursing through the tendons of my leg like fire.

He looked up from the slipper, dusky locks falling in front of eyes that were usually impossible to read, but now shone faintly with a gentle concern.

“Let me take a look at your ankle,” he said.

I shook my head stubbornly, hair fraying from its bun as my head rocked against the side of the tub. “She told me to have my slippers clean by tomorrow morning,” I protested, voice straining not to break under the stress, a tear threatening to bead at my eye.

He sighed, and set my slipper aside to begin peeling at the bandaging of my ankle. My leg seized, and I bit my tongue, iron spiking it as I tried desperately to keep the tears at bay.

“Hey,” he said, and swept a thumb beneath my eye, to collect the moisture that had spilled. “It’s okay to cry. She’s not here.”

“No,” I murmured past gritted teeth. “No, it’s not.”

I clenched my jaw now, teeth grinding, as I stood from the bar, and marched myself to the booth in the corner.

Cain’s eye, flashing bright, was trained on me as I took my seat across from him.

“Take the contract down,” I hissed.

One dark eyebrow curved upward, as if surprised, but quickly fell back into place, framing that wretched eye that burned with an ember of barely contained rage.

“I will if you do what I asked of you,” he replied, voice low. He wanted to keep this discreet; everything was always discreet.

My jaw clenched tighter, and I growled, “I told you, I won’t. I can’t.”

“You can,” he said, and a slender hand reached to clasp over mine, but I yanked my arm back with a virulent animosity.

His mouth curved into a bitter line, and he said, “He’s not your brother, Josephine. He’s not your family. Your loyalty is displaced. When is the last time you spoke to the man?”

My gaze hardened, and yet I found it difficult to look him in his eye, so it dragged across the leather of the mask that obscured the half of his face that I’d never seen, adorned by tiny, silver cogs and banded around a nest of gelled, silvering-black locks. A sharp chin dipped downward, brow knitting as he studied me from that burning eye.

I met it finally to say, “Then I have no family.”

The flame of his eye may have flickered, something akin to hurt dampening the fire that lit an amber lamplight. But I didn’t spare him so much as another glance as I stood from the booth, and turned my back on the man who, despite possibly being the closest thing I had to family since John’s retirement, had done nothing but trick me, use me, betray me.  

I was done playing by the rules. I was done weighing one’s life with mine.

#john wick #2014 #marcus #willem dafoe #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #my writing #oc: josephine #oc: cain #eventual smut #slow burn #mdni #verum vindictae #the willem dafoe challenge

[zendasian]

Day 1 No Instagram

#instagram #meme #andrew garfield #andrew tate #dank #twitter #challenge #funny shit #ed not sheeren #funny post #justdoit #jake gyllenhaal #ryan gosling #willem dafoe #robert pattinson

[forfoxessake]

[76] Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021)

Directed by Jon Watts 

 I think I would have really enjoyed seeing this in cinemas. At least to see Tobey's Spider again, and I think this made me actually care for Andrew's Spider, I really didn't care for him in his first movie, and didn't even bother seeing the second one (and got a major spoiler here). It's fitting that this seems to be Tom's goodbye, for now, it's a movie about the future, where he encounters the many ways his life could have gone.

#Spider-Man: No Way Home #spider-man #100 movies challenge #movies seen in 2022 #movie review #Tom Holland #Zendaya #Benedict Cumberbatch #Jacob Batalon #Jon Favreau #Willem Dafoe #Benedict Wong #Marisa Tomei #Alfred Molina #Andrew Garfield

[jebewonmorelike]

The Whisper Challenge

wc: 650 pronouns: none used; n/a... reader is a boys planet trainee but it's just a story, so you can pretend any gender is allowed to compete-- it doesn't alter the story in any way! warnings: just fluff :) summary: trainee!reader puts together a super special secret bonus round of the boys planet whisper challenge for ricky this was a request and i'm sorry i'm only just getting to it! i hope you like this little drabble... i love baby ricky sm <3 masterlist

Repositioning your headphones on your head after turning the sound off, you prepare for the "bonus round" that your fellow trainees helped you plan. This super special Whisper Challenge round had been suggested to you today by Hao, who was sick of you and Ricky making googly eyes at each other during Over Me practice.

"The faster you two can date and then get bored of each other, the better our chances of winning Artist Battle," Hao had said yesterday as both you and Ricky desperately avoided making eye contact in the practice room the rest of the day.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you put your plan into place. Smiling at Ricky, you relay the final secret phrase to him:

"Will you go out with me?"

Ricky frowns and, for a second, you think you've been found out already. But suddenly he grins as he screams back at you:

"YOU ARE A COW TO ME!"

All of the trainees burst into laughter, Ricky's expression so hilariously genuine after accidentally calling you a cow. You fight the urge to smack him, shaking your head as you prepare to give him the phrase again.

"Will. You. Go. Out. With. Me," you annunciate, stressing every vowel and consonant as Ricky stares at your lips-- his brows furrowed in complete concentration.

"WILLEM. DAFOE. IS. GREEN!" He shouts back with wide eyes.

"What?" Kuan Jui asks in bewilderment. "That doesn't even make sense!"

"No, he's right! Willem Dafoe is green," Jay interjects. "... Green Goblin."

"How did he guess that?" A perplexed Hao raises his eyebrows as he continues, "Ricky's never even seen Spiderman..."

"Will!" You shout just one word this time.

"WELL!" Ricky shouts back.

"Wiiiiiill!" You emphasize again.

"WILL!" Ricky correctly guesses this time and you nod enthusiastically to encourage him.

"You!" You move on to the next word, the huge grin that's been stuck on your face for the last five minutes starting to ache.

"YOON!" He yells; concentration unwavering.

"Do not bring me into this," Jongwoo protests from the crowd, shaking his head in disappointment.

"YOOUUU-UH!" You attempt to emphasis the last letter more effectively.

Ricky nods, guessing, "YOU!"

You clap you hands together excitedly, hopping up and down before pronouncing the next phrase, "Go... Out..."

"GO HAO!"

Zhang Hao looks around nervously. "Where should I go?"

"GO... OUT-UH!" You try once more, stomach starting to flutter as Ricky gets closer to deciphering the phrase.

"GO OUT!?" He guesses, the crowd of trainees cheering in anticipation in front of you.

You place your hands on Ricky's shoulders to deliver the final word and he leans in to touch his forehead to yours like he often did during challenges-- pretending to make your minds meld.

"Me," you finish the phrase, holding your breath as Ricky watches your lips move.

His eyes light up as he comprehends the word. "ME!"

You nod excitedly, a lump in your chest as you wait for him to put the phrase together.

"WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME!?" Ricky shouts the whole phrase back at you.

You take your headphones off, placing them around your neck. "Yes," you answer as all of the trainees in the crowd shriek with excitement.

Ricky's eyebrows furrow innocently as he tilts his head to the side cutely, confusion written all over his face. "What? What's going--?"

Watching as realization sets in, your bottom lip tucks between your teeth cheekily as Ricky removes his headphones.

"Oh." The self-proclaimed Charisma Boss is nowhere insight as Ricky's cheeks turn bright pink. "Um... I--... Um..."

You giggle deviously at him as your plan unfolds exactly to your liking. A grin spreads across his face as he realizes he's fallen right into your trap.

"Yes," you repeat your answer. "Since you asked so nicely... I will go out with you."

#zerobaseone #zerobaseone x reader #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone fics #zerobaseone drabbles #boys planet #boys planet drabbles #boys planet imagines #bp999 imagines #bp999 drabbles #kpop drabbles #kpop imagines #kpop #bp #bp999 #zerobaseone ricky #zerobaseone fluff #zb1 imagines #zb1 fics #zb1 ricky #zb1 drabbles #zb1 fluff #zb1 x reader #zb1 #ricky #shen ricky #shen ricky x reader #shen ricky imagines #shen quanrui #shen ricky drabbles

[femininemenon]

from a never seen poor things anon, what do you hate about poor things? (ive heard its ableist...)

ok so before i get into anything, i would like to state that it was made by cis men (directed by a greek cis man, written by a scottish and an australian cis man). if it was done by cis women, i would still side eye it though. also, emma stone was a producer, so technically she had a say in just how much she showed of herself (the practicality of it you can argue but that would make this like an entire essay long).

what i can say, without spoilers, is that the movie reads like the study of "liberation" in the white feminist sense through white men's lense. if that's your thing (or choice feminism) then maybe you can put through yourself this. the writing is very much tony mcnamara (from "the great"; i knew it was him before i even looked at the credits) so if you miss his style of dialogue, then you will definitely enjoy at least that. the aesthetic is nice and you can tell that it took a lot of hard work, but also you have to tolerate a fisheye lense shot like every five minutes.

if you don't mind spoilers, then you can click "read more" - although i don't think i'm saying anything that hasn't been said before

i have to put out another disclaimer: i don't think you should only depict topics in a "HEY THIS IS A BAD THING!" manner or that you can only portray morally correct things, so i don't think this movie would have irritated me so much IF we had movies that dealt with similar topics in a more honest, more radical view (but like who am i kidding it's hollywood) or if people didn't hail this as barbie for ao3 like ???????????????? i mean i guess you lot are right about the white feminism…

the story begins with a pregnant woman killing herself (victoria, also played by emma stone) because she simply cannot tolerate the fetus/the idea of being a mother. the movie also implies that she was impregnated against her will by her husband. then doctor godwin baxter (willem dafoe) uses her for his "experiment" and he says, out of mercy, doesn't revive her but instead puts the baby's brain into the pregnant woman's and so bella baxter is born. this read as punishment for wanting to end a pregnancy (even though i'm sure it wasn't meant to) and that is just a really triggering to me. when bella learns of this later, it doesn't exactly have much of an effect on her though so all is jolly! not a single thing to ponder over! not the fact that her mom didn't want her and she killed herself, noooope. has no effect on her whatsoever!

so the premise of the entire thing is that we watch this baby grow in a grown woman's body. the movie is in b&w for a while because babies don't see color (about 4 months but we are never given a scale of her age) but her sexualization begins here already: one of whom she is betrothed to (so she never leaves the mansion) is max mccandles (ramy youssef) who also calls her the R slur (00:07:29,792 --> 00:07:31,625 "What a very pretty [R-slur]") and then duncan wedderburn (mark ruffalo). i'm not sure why that slur is resurfacing online and offline but i find it very disturbing, no matter what excuse people try to use. use any other word, literally. there is the question of adults who (if i'm not using correct terms, feel free to tell me) are cognitively challenged. is this meant to say something about them? does the movie not even want to entertain that people like bella in this stage exist and live their lives?

i feel like i've only yapped about the plot SORRY. the rest of the story is bella learning more about the world, mostly through sex save for one philosophical stage on a boat (where we meet the one man who does not sexualize her! hurray! harry astley, played by jerrod carmichael). i don't think the sex scenes were like too explicit (i'm sure hbo had done way worse back in its day…) as people say they are. do i think it was necessary for the story? not really. yes, sometimes children are aware of sexual things but they should be educated (to prevent predators) and not engaged in such acitvities. as she was not educated, predators crawl over her like duncan. but it doesn't read like that, not to me. i think they tried to portray her as a willing participant and for you not to even question whether she wants it or not, and rather as "female empowerment" like okay…

and then comes the paris part (sex work/prostitution) which can be read in many ways. bella learns more through sex paid for by strange men, duncan slutshames her and she leaves duncan, decides to be a doctor. a lot of progress is made in this part and there are some good lines but one line just… meh (01:43:23,292 --> 01:43:25,583 We are our own means of production.) so that's something to keep in mind.

anyway, shenanigans ensue, she ends up back where victoria escaped from and the husband wants to also keep her in the house and impregnate her. maybe something about how you cannot escape the system meant to encage you? no idea. in the end, she doesn't kill the man but rather replaces his brain with a dog's. is this meant to read as revenge? against the husband or against the doctor? who knows. the doctor dies but at that point i was just sooo over it. in the end, bella takes over her first prison, the mansion, as she is now its mistress, but what does that say exactly? the system is good as is, any change will just land us in worse places and we just have to make our space in it?

#ask #anonymous #poor things spoilers #anti poor things

[castlesrp]

The Whitman Family

Aphrodite: Cosmetics Conglomerate

The Whitman family is founded from humble beginnings that burgeoned into a multinational empire, weaving a saga of ambition, beauty, and the enduring legacy of Whitman Cosmetics. The company's roots trace back to a small perfume shop run by first generation immigrants, eventually evolving into a Midtown Manhattan-based powerhouse resulting in Whitman Cosmetics being known as a a multinational cosmetics company, manufacturer and marketer of makeup, skincare, perfume, and hair care products. First Whitman (76) serves as the CEO of the company, unable to step down as she hasn’t found a “suitable replacement” yet - much to the chagrin of her husband, First Stirling (75), who stepped down as the CFO for Whitman Cosmetics two years ago and just wants to retire in peace.

Their eldest child, First Hawthorne (48) has ventured into the family business as a fragrance chemist for the company, focusing on aromachology and how fragrances can impact mood or feelings. She and her husband First Hawthorne (49) have started their own small family with two children. After their father retired, the role of CFO was handed down to the eldest son, First Whitman (46) who was an extremely able and capable candidate for the role, though many in the company took it as a bit of a slight since he had not worked for Whitman Cosmetics as long as other candidates in the running. Regardless, alongside his wife First Whitman (46) and four daughters, he has managed to perform well in the role while contending with the pressure to find a successor CEO when his mother retires.

The remaining siblings have all ventured around Whitman Cosmetics in one way or another: First Whitman (42) is a professional model and has long been the face of Whitman Cosmetics, but finds himself grappling with the inevitable challenge of aging in an industry fixated on youth. Meanwhile, First Whitman (37) is the Chief Marketing Officer for the company and is trying to usher in a new generation of marketing strategies by collaborating with his younger brother First Whitman (35), a social media influencer and socialite that is always attending the classiest of affairs in New York City.

To aid in gaining the attention of younger generations are the twin daughters, First Whitman (33) and First Whitman (33). Using their family name and their own unique skills in the cosmetic industry, they have leveraged their family name and resources to establish a private boutique in Manhattan where they work as a makeup artist and hairstylist respectively, providing high end clientele with everything they might need in order to look their best. They have recently started to collaborate with First Cheng (39), hoping to combine her talents as a fashion designer to create an entire creative fashion Haus in the heart of New York City and take their family reputations and wealth to new heights.

First Whitman: 76 Years Old, CEO of Whitman Cosmetics, Catherine O'Hara, Available + First Stirling: 75 Years Old, Retired Chief Financial Officer of Whitman Cosmetics, Willem Dafoe, Available

First Hawthorne: 48 Years Old, Fragrance Chemist, Chrissy Metz, Available + First Hawthorne: 49 Years Old, Open Occupation, Michael Shannon, Available ----- First Hawthorne: 23 Years Old, Open Occupation, Felix Mallard, Available ----- First Hawthorne: 21 Years Old, Open Occupation, Joe Locke, Available

First Whitman: 46 Years Old, Chief Financial Officer of Whitman Cosmetics, Henry Cavill, Available + First Whitman: 46 Years Old, Open Occupation, Kristen Bell, Available ----- First Whitman: 25 Years Old, Open Occupation, Natalia Dyer, Available ----- First Whitman: 23 Years Old, Open Occupation, Phoebe Deynover, Available ----- First Whitman: 21 Years Old, Open Occupation, Renee Rapp 1, Available * ----- First Whitman: 21 Years Old, Open Occupation, Renee Rapp 2, Available * * Note: Whitman (21) and Whitman (21) are identical twins

First Whitman: 42 Years Old, Model, Sam Claflin, Available

First Whitman: 37 Years Old, Chief Marketing Officer of Whitman Cosmetics, Robert Pattinson, Available

First Whitman: 35 Years Old, Socialite and Social Media Influencer, Jonathan Bailey, Available

First Whitman: 33 Years Old, Make Up Artist, Margot Robbie, Available * * Note: Whitman (33) and Whitman (33) are fraternal twins

First Whitman: 33 Years Old, Hairstylist, Samara Weaving, Available * * Note: Whitman (33) and Whitman (33) are fraternal twins

#jcink #jcink rp #roleplay #bio rp #skeleton rp #canons

[happy-mokka]

Musical Extravaganza

Yesterday me and my cinematic partner in crime took the opportunity to get tickets for a special evening of "Musical Extravaganza" in our small local arthouse movie theater.

They were screening 2 classic "musical-ish" pieces. So for the interested people out there, if you're always keen on watching stuff both for the eyes and ears, I will share my experience under the cut.

Phantom of the Paradise

USA 1974 Director: Brian de Palma Written by: Brian de Palma Camera: Larry Pizer Music: Paul Williams Cast: William Finley, Paul Williams, Jessica Harper, ...

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐(5 / 5)

What a ride!!!

I, resp. we, absolutely L❤️VED it!!!

When I read "Brian de Palma", I was surprised, since I only know his later work, mostly Thrillers and Gangster movies.

This early work, however, is something...well...completely different, to put it mildly.

It's a wild mix of "Phantom of the Opera" with a liitle bit of "Dorian Gray" towards the end.

Everything in a wild 70s setting with awesome costumes and sets.

The music is brilliant and the whole staging is completely crazy with all actors being comitted to the bit.

I can absolutely recommend this one!!!

Streets of Fire

USA 1984 Director: Walter Hill Written by: Larry Gross, Walter Hill Camera: Andrew Laszlo Music: Ry Cooder Cast: Michael Paré, Willem Dafoe, Diane Lane, Rick Moranis, Amy Madigan, ...

Rating: ⭐ (1 / 5)

Ok. The euphoria of the first movie quickly subsided the longer the second one lasted, I am afraid.

Walter Hill is in my book known for rather hard actioners in the 80s and 90s and, honestly, besides of some music scenes in this one, it is really more an action movie, than a musical - and not a particularly good one at that.

The acting is really B movie quality. I really like what has become of young Diane Lane over the years, but this was not one of her proudest moments. The did good lip-sync on the singing scenes, but did not actually sing.

Michal Paré. One can clearly see, why he stayed a b-movie actor and never made it to the A list of that era. Apart from his handsome looks he basically switched between two facial expressions: stoic staring and wounded staring. His dialogs sounded like that voice announcing the next stop in trains and busses.

Rick Moranis was ok. Less geeky than usual but not really challenged by the meh script.

The only positive appearance was actually done by Amy Madigan.

She played the chummy ex-army gal with enough ease and made the best of her part.

The music was nothing special and sometimes a too wild mix of genres. Besides the opener, nothing really remained in my memory. Sad, since I normally like Ry Cooder's work. I guess he got better with age.

So, in sum, not really a recommendation. Neither as a musical, nor as an action movie.

#musical extravaganza #musical #arthouse #phantom of the paradise #winslow leach #swan #streets of fire #paul williams #phantom of the opera #Youtube #potp

[kiwisbell]

Hi!! It's Helen!anon :)

So i am once again gonna have to come back and give you a more in-depth commentary but, having just stayed up way too late to read ch.2, there are a few things I have to say

First of all, this chapter absolutely tore my heart out. Having just watched Pedro's acceptance speech for his SAG award (so well deserved after all his years of brilliant and hard work!!!) I could hear his voice breaking so clearly in my head which just contributed to the heartbreak of the dialogue during their fight. Second, I absolutely love the way you allowed the wife's anger to take center stage here. I have obviously never met a gun-for-hire but I have had my heart completely smashed by someone I loved and trusted lying to me, and the part about resenting them for lying but also resenting yourself for being blind??? Yuuuup that is EXACTLY right. The night I found out I was a sobbing mess and seeing the wife's reaction in this was both heartbreaking and validating. I just love her. Third, Tommy and Joel's interaction in this was phenomenal!!! Lastly, a little guess I have: the version of Willem Dafoe's character in this fic is gonna be Tess. She is certainly badass enough.

I cannot wait to come back, reread and give you all my thoughts. And as much as I identify with the wife's anger at being lied to (and in real life, when I was lied to, I chose to end the relationship) if I am completely honest? I am really rooting for Joel and his wife to figure this out. If they can't I will completely understand, but I still want that happy ending with a puppy that I wished for them in my comments for ch.1

Thank you for creating this and putting it out into the universe for us, really. I anticipate the new chapters with so much excitement and I read each part with joy even when it's sad

helen!anon i've missed you dearly!!! thank you so much for reading chapter two my friend!!

first of all, sag award winner pedro pascal hasn't left my brain either and i'm so glad you brought him up. i am kneeling at the feet of sag award winner pedro pascal and kissing his boots. sag award winner pedro pascal i love you

the biggest challenge i gave myself in this chapter (okay, there were a million challenges, but this was the biggest) was the fact that i ... simply never write angst. @cavillscurls can attest to the fact that i moaned and groaned for hours about how scared i was to write and publish this. i think it was the only option that his wife's anger took centre-stage, and i consider it a huge honour that you were able to relate to her in this moment. i am glad that i was able to do that kind of fury justice.

ALSO: it just felt right to me that tommy occupied the aurelio role: he's collected and rational but has no problem being a badass and taking his brother down a peg when the occasion calls for it. as for your prediction.. i keep my trap shut!! 🤭

i love how easily you're able to sympathise with reader and i admire you for being so open to them mending their relationship. you're such a careful reader and you're so generous and receptive to what i write, it's truly an honour to read your asks my friend!! you're incredible ❤️

#fic: helen #helen!anon returns #kiwisbell answers

[denimbex1986]

'...1. Andrew Scott – All of Us Strangers

It’s kind of bizarre that “All of Us Strangers” didn’t get any nomination in any category at all. What makes it further strange is that at BAFTAs, where the film had more recognition, the lead actor Andrew Scott still got snubbed. It’s a fantastic and poetic film about memory, about the past, about love, about traumas, about so many other things. What’s so special about the film is that it doesn’t explain itself, it trusts the audience enough. The AMPAS famously ignores more arty films but the film has such a strong emotional resonance and so many heartbreaking sequences that it’s hard to understand why it didn’t connect with the voters. Perhaps just a matter of a weak campaign which resulted in fewer voters seeing it.

The entire cast is brilliant and Paul Mescal, Jamie Bell, and especially Claire Foy would all be worthy of nominations but Andrew Scott’s rich performance here is what keeps the film together. He’s in almost every sequence of the movie and in each scene, he finds a new way to impress. It’s a kind of performance that would get in with the passion votes in the leading actor category, similar to Willem Dafoe in “At Eternity’s Gate”. He’s already a respected actor with a certain fame, thanks to “Fleabag”, but this film will probably change the way how many see him because he never had a role this soulful, this rich, and this challenging.

It’s not only one of the best performances of the year but might be THE lead male performance of the year. The film is a hauntingly beautiful study of love, loss, and grief and Scott’s performance embodies all those perfectly.'

#Oscars #All of Us Strangers #Andrew Scott #BAFTAs #Paul Mescal #Claire Foy #Jamie Bell #Fleabag

[uomo-accattivante]

Here’s a new online performance featuring Oscar Isaac to look forward to! It will stream on Zoom on Saturday, July 16, from 1-3pm Eastern. You can RSVP for free here.

More details from the source link below:

The Suppliants Project: Ukraine presents live, dramatic readings of Aeschylus’ play The Suppliants on Zoom—featuring professional actors and a chorus of Ukrainian citizens—to help frame global discussions about the War in Ukraine and the unique challenges now faced by the people of Ukraine and those who support them. Using a 2,500-year-old text as catalyst for a powerful, international discussion, The Suppliants Project: Ukraine will amplify and humanize the voices and perspectives of Ukrainian citizens, refugees, soldiers, immigrants, politicians, activists, and artists who will participate in the performance and discussion on their personal devices on Zoom from locations within Ukraine and in neighboring countries.

The Suppliants is an ancient Greek play about a group of refugees who seek asylum in the city of Argos from forced marriage and violence. The play not only depicts the struggle of these refugees to cross a border into safety, but also the internal struggle within the country that ultimately receives them, as its citizens wrestle with how best to address the crisis at their border and whether to go to war on behalf of the refugees seeking their protection.

Featuring performances by Oscar Isaac, Willem Dafoe, David Strathairn, and company members of the ProEnglish Theatre, Kyiv, Ukraine: Alina Zievakova, Anabell Ramirez, Daniil Prymachov, Kira Meschcherska, and Stanislav Galiant.

Co-presented by Theater of War and ProEnglish Theatre in Kyiv. Translated and directed by Bryan Doerries. This event will be captioned in English and Ukrainian.

#oscar isaac #willem dafoe #david strathairn #theater of war #the suppliants project #ukraine #proenglish theatre #online performance #streaming

[destinyc1020]

Did you hear feyds voice its really good, austin sounda like stellan, really impresed with what he did with his voice be caught me off guard. I know some were saying austin is the next brad pitt ( as an actor not the person) actually I think he could be the next wilhelm, or christopher walken or tom hardy really phenomenal character actors who are committed and truly transformative.

Austin is on his wilhelm dafoe shit, he really sounds menacing. I sorry for doubting you at first my guy when they first announced your casting.

I only heard a little snippet of his voice! But yea, he surprised me with that one, cuz I was not expecting it to sound like THAT! 😅

I can't wait to see what Austin brings to this role.

Austin is on his wilhelm dafoe shit, he really sounds menacing. I sorry for doubting you at first my guy when they first announced your casting.

LOL 😅

I remember when I first heard that he was being cast. I was excited to hear that he was added to the cast! When I heard that Denis hand-picked him for the role, I knew he must have chosen him for a reason. I'll admit, I was expecting Feyd like the pictures I saw of Sting in the old original Dune film though lol. 😅

Like, kind of flamboyant, cocky, handsome, and evil, but in a seductive way. I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting someone so bald, pale, menacing, and...did I say...BALD?? LOL (I had a mini-meltdown when I first heard confirmation that he would be bald, but I got over it lol) 😄

Willem Dafoe is a beast actor...so to even be mentioned in the same sentence as him is awesome. I think Austin could be a great character actor if he keeps playing his cards right. He seems to like challenging and diverse roles.

[red-riding-wood]

Heroes Masterlist

He is king, and she is queen. He smokes, and she is mean. Tomorrow, death may take them, but today, they are heroes.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Soundtrack

Read on Archive

Credit for original top image goes to Croc Chewy on Steam

#elias grodin #platoon #platoon 1986 #fanfiction #willem dafoe #heroes #oc: alexis #sgt. elias #mdni #the willem dafoe challenge #writing #my writing #masterlists

[ethanreedbooks]

Ultimate Green Goblin Unveiled: A Cinematic Resurgence in Marvel's Web-Slinging World

What should the title be called? It should be appealing: The latest rendition of the Ultimate Green Goblin is giving off strong vibes reminiscent of Sam Raimi's Spider-Man. The question arises: is this new iteration a friend or foe? Marvel has just revealed a sneak peek at Spider-Man's long-standing nemesis on the cover of Ultimate Spider-Man #2, crafted by series artist Marco Checchetto. This Green Goblin resembles the version portrayed by Willem Dafoe in Sam Raimi's films.

While there are some deviations in the new design compared to the classic Spider-Man movie version – notably the absence of the wide-mouthed helmet – the overall aesthetic leans towards the plated and segmented armored look introduced by the original Spider-Man movie. Despite the differences, the nod to the classic cinematic interpretation is evident.

In contrast to the original Ultimate Universe Green Goblin, who was a colossal, almost Hulk-like mutation with hellfire abilities, the new Ultimate Green Goblin takes a different approach. This version opts for a more tactical armored appearance, a departure from the mainstream Marvel Universe's portrayal of Norman Osborn's Green Goblin.

The legacy of the Ultimate Green Goblin is significant, particularly since the original version killed the initial Ultimate Peter Parker before meeting his own demise in battle, paving the way for Miles Morales to assume the mantle of the second Ultimate Spider-Man.

However, in this fresh continuity, expectations may be upended. Writer Jonathan Hickman has hinted at a distinct origin for the new Ultimate Peter Parker, acquiring powers in adulthood while navigating the challenges of married life and fatherhood, introducing a unique set of complications to his superhero journey.

Crucially, the identity of the new Ultimate Green Goblin remains shrouded in mystery. Speculation about whether this Goblin is Norman Osborn, Harry Osborn, or another character from the Marvel Universe is rampant. Marvel's press release provides little insight, leaving us in the dark about the character's alignment – is he Spider-Man's enemy or something entirely different?

As we eagerly await the release of Ultimate Spider-Man #1 on January 10, followed by #2 on February 21, the answers to these questions will unfold, unraveling the mysteries of this new chapter in the Ultimate Spider-Man saga.

#marvel #spider-man #ultimates #ultimate universe #Green Goblin

[pixlerelish]

Day 5: Least Favorite Movie

Short Answer: Born on the Fourth of July

Longer Ramblings: Under the cut

Disclaimer: I have NOT actually watched this movie.  I WILL go back at some point and give it a chance to redeem itself.

I tried to watch this twice, the first time I got about half hour in, the second time maybe about 45 minutes in.  I’ve done war movies before, so I don’t have a problem with that, and I’m not sure what it actually was that made me bail, but I was not having it.  I’ll have to try again sometime when I’m in a better state of mind.

I DO want to see the end though, cause there’s got to be some redeeming qualities if it got nominated and all that.  PLUS, I didn’t even get to see Willem Dafoe.  Foe shame.

---

Godspeed @lephantomdelioncourt​ and HA @lovesickmermaid​

Tom 30 Day Challenge Tumblr Thingy Cruise

Original Ask Game

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#Born on the Fourth of July #Tom 30 Day Challenge Tumblr Thingy Cruise #Tomblr #Unpopular opinions ftw

[zemagltd]

Everyday Poetry - “Great theatre is about challenging how we think and encouraging us to fantasize about a world we aspire to.” Willem Dafoe

#photography #photographers on tumblr #original photography on tumblr #happiness #quotes #daily calm #nature #art #living

[angelamontoo]

How about Lorre in modern horror franchises? I’m thinking it might be fun to show famous modern horror characters but played by Lorre

Oooh this was a hard one for me, but when I got rolling I was having a lot of fun with this ask

First we have The lighthouse from 1940, starring Peter Lorre and Boris Karloff(who I still can't draw). I was originally gonna draw Sydney Greenstreet as the Willem Dafoe character, but I can't really see him playing someone so grizzled and outwardly gross and unpleasant, so instead I went with Boris in a similar role to Morgan from the Old dark house, but more intelligent and conniving

Next we have Peter as Pennywise in 1938s IT because I love when Peter dresses up as a clown. Now that I've drawn it, I realise he came out looking a lot like Skarsgårds version of the character, which is kinda funny because I prefer Tim curry's portrayal personally(though they're both great and I can't help having nostalgic bias for the miniseries anyway)

After that we have Peter as Charles Lee Ray/Chucky, who in this continuity is more of a weird, Kewpie knockoff, clown thing, cause I feel like kids in the 40s would dig that. The kid in the second image was supposed to look like a very young Richard Pryor, but I can't draw him either. Ah well, at least for him I have the excuse that he's hard to recognise without facial hair. Who do you think should play Tiffany in this version? I was originally invisioning Mary Astor cause I was imagining a kind of Noir, crime thriller tone to at least the first film, but I also like the idea of Elsa Lancaster since she already played a famous monsters bride and I can see her pulling off that quirky, funny, bad girl thing well

And finally, 1949s A nightmare on Elmstreet

I hope you like! This was a lot of fun for me. It was definitely a challenge since unlike many vintage film/actor fans, I'm not great with coming up with vintage film fancasts, but it I really enjoyed it

#peter lorre #the lighthouse #thomas howard #thomas wake #boris karloff #it #pennywise #childs play #chucky #charles lee ray #richard pryor #a nightmare on elm street #freddy krüger #my art