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gretavanbear · 5 months

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The Professor

Josh Kiszka x F!reader x Jake Kiszka

18+ MDNI!

[a/n: hey guys! i promise i'll be updating more frequently from now on. I will also make changes to my taglist so it's easier for me to update it and keep track of everyone! by next update ill have my taglist up to date- sorry about that!! i hope you enjoy this chapter!]

Screening #10: The Umbrellas of Cherbourg

You walked into your usual classroom with your computer in your hands. You had just spent all morning in the library working on an essay for another class. Walking into class, you were caught by surprise with the view of both twins at the front, talking to each other.

You sat in your usual spot and opened your laptop, pressing the button to turn it on. Peeking over the screen, you could see Josh looking over at you with a small smile, whilst Jake looked over his notes at the podium. They really looked good together, a strong bond that could not be broken. As time rolled around, class began.

“Hello everyone” Josh clasped his hands together, a big smile on his face as he looked around the room, Jake looked at you. Your heart beat caught in your throat as his brown eyes focused on you for those few seconds, those chocolate orbs making you feel like it was just you and him in that room. “Today, Professor Kiszka aka my brother decided to join us once again!” Josh smiled, walking around the stage at the front of the amphitheater shaped classroom.

“Hello, everyone.” His raspy voice filling the room, making you blush a little. His voice alone sounded like straight-up sex. He wore a dark suit, with a gray collared shirt underneath and his necklaces peaking through the opening. He looked incredibly beautiful.

“Today, we’re going to watch The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, I’m not even going to try pronouncing that in french,” Josh chucked.

“Les Parapluies de Cherbourg” Jake spoke, his french clear and well-pronounced. You sucked in a breath as you looked over at him. He had a small smirk on his lips as he read over his notes.

“Yes, that’s right. I would love for you guys to focus on the experimental style within this film, and the colors! The colors and their meanings! How does that sound?” Josh smiled, taking a sip from his bottle.

“Why is the style considered experimental, Josh?” Jake raised his head to look over at Josh, resting his elbows on the podium.

“Glad you asked, brother.” Josh sat on the edge of the stage and looked around the room, his eyes landing on you for a couple seconds before drifting away. “This film, directed by Jacques Demy- excuse my pronunciation, is really fascinating because of the way it is different to regular musicals. Instead of mixing dialogue and music, all dialogue is spoken through song.” Josh explained. You raised your eyebrows, feeling interested in the movie you were about to watch.

“It is a very good movie, I’ve seen it many times. Les Parapluies de Cherbourg was released at the end of the New Wave of french cinema. Jacques Demy pushed the norm from what would regularly play in theaters to be with his experimental films; and that is what makes his impact so important for cinema. Which is why Josh and I decided to screen this film today.” Jake explained. Damn, his french was beautiful.

Once the film was over, the lights turned back on and you felt different. The movie was so beautiful, and you did pay attention to the colors as Josh asked you to. It really was noticeable in the way that the colors on screen mirrored the characters emotions.

It made you wonder what color would be portrayed for you.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You knocked on the door nervously, knowing he was in there. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in class, in that dark navy velvet suit. The way he presented himself in such a confident manner was truly life changing. There was life before Jake Kiszka, and after. You were glad to be in the after.

“Enter.” He spoke out loud through the door. You obliged and opened it carefully. He looked up at you without raising his head, focused on his computer.

“Ah. Doll. How can I help you?” He said, leaning back in his chair with a soft smile. He placed one hand on his thigh whilst the other rested on the arm of his chair. His shirt revealed more of his bare chest which looked incredibly sexy. He seemed vulnerable and dominant all at once. Like a man who’s sure of himself, who he is.

“Good afternoon, sir. I was just very impressed by the movie screened earlier. I loved the music and cinematography so much.” You said, closing the door behind yourself.

“Yeah? Why don’t you tell me more about that.” He pushed himself back from the desk, allowing space for you to come between his chair and the desk. His fingers tapping his thigh, as he looked up at you. You smiled shyly as you walked over to him, looking down and hesitating before he mouthed ‘sit.’ and you listened.

You sat on his thigh, feeling how thick and stable it felt, and being so close to him turned you on so much. He looked up at you with his lips parted, his big brown eyes looking at your every move. The hand which was resting on his thigh was now pressed against yours, right next to your hip.

“Tell me, what did you like?” His voice was low, his thumb caressing you gently. You smiled shyly, your hands on his broad shoulders. “Why don’t you tell me?” His other hand found your jawline, his soft but calloused fingers dragged against your skin. So gently.

“Uhm..” You were speechless, he looked so pretty. You examined his long lashes which covered those beautiful chocolate orbs. The way his skin looked so soft, with such a delicacy to it. It made you think maybe, he was the doll he always described you as. You were afraid to break him, even though he felt so strong underneath you, his thick thigh buried between your legs. His pointer and thumb grabbed your chin gently, as he guided you closer to his lips, his long lashes caressing his cheeks, closing his eyes as he leaned in to kiss you.

His lips were softer than satin, warm like an embrace during a winter storm. God, he was so fucking soft yet a roughness hid in him. You knew you wanted him to use it on you, but not yet. His lips kissed you with passion, full trust. His fingers let go of your chin and made their way to the back of your head; his fingers intertwining with your roots, caressing your head a little as his kiss deepened. You could feel yourself soaking your underwear, surely his pants were next.

Suddenly, his grip on your roots tightened which caused you to moan in his mouth. You pulled back embarrassed a little, but he didn’t care. He kept his grip and pulled you a little closer making sure you were looking into his eyes.

“You’re soaking my three hundred dollar pants, babe.” His dark pink lips spoke.

“Sorry, sir..” You felt blush creep onto your cheeks, feeling hot all over as you began stepping off, but his hands went straight to your hips. He pulled you back on, and even closer.

“Keep going… Make a mess on me.”

His words sent goosebumps all over your skin, his stare driving you crazy. You grind your hips against his thigh, leaving little moans escape your lips as he moves your hair out of your face, holding his eye contact with yours.

“Fuck… does it feel good?” His big brown eyes consumed all your thoughts, you felt so connected with him in that moment.

“Yeah” You breathed out. “It does.” You smiled shyly which made him smile too, before leaving kisses on your neck. He whispers sweet nothings against your skin and grabs your leg so you’re now straddling him, his hands moving your hips against him and you can feel his length so perfectly. He was big, just how you remembered, and he felt so good rubbing against you this way.

“Fuck.. I’m..” your mind went foggy but he bucked his hips up and made sure to not lose any friction, his brows furrowed with his mouth hanging open, the friction making him feel so good, too. He carried you through your orgasm, complimenting you and caressing your thighs with his large hands as you crumbled above him.

“Beautiful.” He smiled. You blushed, thinking it wasn't possible since you were already so red. You got up, embarrassed, but he pulled you back down, positioned you so you were still sitting on his lap, your legs draped sideways over his whilst his hand held your back and the other laid flat across your thighs.

“Tell me, doll. Is he not enough for you?” He asked softly, his thumb caressing your thigh.

“.. No. He is..”

“Why’d you hesitate?”

“It’s just. Ever since I saw you in that hallway. Something about you.. I don't know. I feel like I need to know you. It’s not like how it is with him.” You confessed, avoiding his eyes. With the hand that was on your thighs, he holds your chin and turns your head so you face him.

“And if you had to choo-”

“You.” cutting him off, he gasps quietly.

“You haven’t even had me yet, darling. How can you be so sure?” His low voice sent a chill down your spine, and you involuntarily clenched your thighs together at the sight of his face. He looked at you with such intensity and care, never like how Josh did. He was ten times more intense than Josh, and you needed him. More than you’ve ever needed anything.

You leaned in close, pressing your hand against his chest as your lips grazed his ear, “I guess you should show me, then. That I’m making the right choice.” you whispered.

“Yeah? We can arrange that.” he breathed out, confident. He held his hand out to help you get off his lap and you gladly took it, feeling supported by him in that moment. He shot you a comforting look as he got up and gave you a hug which took you by surprise, but you gladly wrapped your arms around him and held him tight. You felt your whole body full of butterflies and fireworks anytime he touched you, and this hug made you feel like you were floating.

“Thank you.. And, sorry for your pants.” You giggled softly. Looking down at the wet spots embarrassingly.

“Don’t ever apologize, I loved it. I do hope you come see me in my office if you ever have real questions about anything. Though, this is okay too.” He chuckled. God, he was so beautiful. Even his laugh was cute. “Oh! Before I forget..” He turned around for a second and ripped a piece of paper off of his notebook, writing down something quickly. “This is my personal phone number. Please call me.” He smirked, handing you the paper between his pointer and middle finger.

“I will, thank you, sir. Good evening” You smiled, your hand reaching for his doorknob.

“Good evening to you.” He smiled, opening the door for you.

As he closed the door, you smiled to yourself for a moment. You could see yourself really falling for him, he was different, thoughtful, talented, smart,

“Doll?”

You looked up.

“You could've came to me if you had questions about the film screened today.” Josh spoke, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“No, no I know. I had a question about something else.” You responded quickly, crumbling the paper in your hand so it’s not noticeable.

“Okay. But I’m your professor, not him.” He spoke, stepping closer.

“Okay, Josh.” You sighed, hiding your hurt with a smile. He smiled back.

“I have to go teach another class right now, but I’ll call you tonight?” He said. You nodded and kept the smile on your face. You watched him walk away before dropping it.

You weren’t looking forward to his call, all you could think about was what you’d say when you end up calling Jake instead.

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humansofnewyork · 8 months

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(29/54) “The riots began in Qom. One day Khomeini gave a speech saying that the moment had arrived for a true Islamic revolution. And that it was the duty of all Muslims to oppose the monarchy. The rioters targeted anything they deemed anti-Islamic: cinemas, liquor stores, shops selling Western clothes. When the police tried to crack down, a few of the rioters were killed. Khomeini declared the men to be martyrs, and forty days later a public memorial was held. Huge crowds came out. And the rioting began again. It was as constant as the beat of a drum: riots, deaths, memorial. Riots, deaths, memorial. Every forty days there would be another wave. And with every wave the destruction would grow. Eventually the riots spread to the capital. Many mornings I would walk to parliament because the traffic was so bad. One morning I was forced to take a different route entirely, because rioters were destroying a liquor store. They were breaking hundreds of bottles in the street, and the gutters were filled with liquor. My colleagues in parliament were nervous, but I was optimistic. I thought this might even be an opportunity for us. Our entire careers we’d been in the opposition. We often spoke against the king’s policies. Now the people were mobilized. They were in the streets. They were looking for an alternative. Maybe this would be the moment that the king would finally hear the voice of the people. Maybe this would be the moment for us to have a true constitutional monarchy. Khomeini wanted to bring Iran back to the dark ages. But I knew that Khomeini didn’t represent the Muslims of Iran. Iran had been Islamic for one thousand years. We were the nation of Rumi. The nation of Hafez. These fanatics did not represent our religion. I even gave a speech from the podium of Parliament where I quoted the Koran. It was the words of Allah: ‘Those who are furthest from evil, are closest to me.”

شورش‌ها از قم آغاز شد. خمینی در سخنرانی خود گفت که زمان برای انقلاب اسلامی واقعی فرا رسیده است. وظیفه‌ی همه‌ی مسلمانان است که ضد سلطنت به پا خیزند. شورشیان آنچه را غیراسلامی می‌پنداشتند هدف می‌گرفتند: سینماها، فروشگاه‌های مشروبات الکلی، فروشگاه‌هایی که لباس‌های غربی می‌فروختند. در تلاش شهربانی برای خاموش کردن شورش‌ها، شماری ازشورشیان کشته می‌شدند. خمینی کشته‌شدگان را شهید می‌خواند. چهل روز پس از آن، مراسم یادبود برگزار می‌شد و جمعیت زیادی در آن شرکت می‌کردند. مانند کوبش پیاپی طبل صحنه‌ها تکرار می‌شد: شورش، مرگ، سوگواری. شورش، مرگ، سوگواری. هر چهل روز موج تازه‌ای به راه می‌افتاد. و با هر موج تازه ویرانی‌های بیشتری. سرانجام شورش‌ها به تهران کشید. بیشتر صبح‌ها پیاده به مجلس می‌رفتم زیرا ترافیک بدی بود. یک بار مجبور شدم راهم را تغییر دهم چون شورشیان در کار تخریب فروشگاه مشروبات الکلی بودند. آنها بطری‌ها را در خیابان می‌شکستند و در جوی‌‌ها می‌ریختند. همکاران من در مجلس نگران بودند، من هنوز خوشبین بودم. شاید فرصتی باشد. بسیار پیش آمده بود که ضد برخی سیاست‌های کشور سخن گفته بودم. بودن مردم در خیابانها روزنه‌ی امیدی بود که سرانجام به ‌پادشاهی مشروطه برسیم. تلاش می‌کردم گروه کوچک همفکرانم را در مجلس آسوده‌خاطر سازم. می‌دانستم که خمینی نماینده‌ی مسلمانان ایران نیست. هزار سال از اسلامی شدن ایران می‌گذشت. ما ملت مولانا بودیم. ما ملت حافظ بودیم. این تندروان نماینده‌ی دین ما نبودند. حتا در یک سخنرانی در مجلس نقل قولی از قرآن آوردم. گفتم: کسانی برای خدا گرامی‌ترند ‌که از بدی‌ها دورترند

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mxtantrights · 1 year

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the sequel press conference

this is a snippet from the famous dc!au that started with The Greatest Hits [read here] you don’t have to read it but a lot of things would make sense if you do! hope you enjoy.

Having a press conference for the sequel to your highly anticipated movie should be a good thing. You should be happy. You get to sit among the cast and Dent, and talk about the film you all made together.

But this isn't a happy occasion. Dent reached out to both you and Jason about doing a conference about the halting of your movie you were disappointed. You had thought he and all the other powerful people in cinema has talked Lex down from whatever master plan he was implementing. That didn't happen.

So now here you are about to walk out onto a podium with your cast and director to speak to the world. None of you had the answers but you did owe it to the fans to let them know how hard everyone worked on the movie and to tell them how badly you want it to be released.

"Hey," Jason says from besides you and tangles his fingers with yours, "it's gonna be okay, we're not the bad guys here."

You nod your head, "I know, I know. But still. I mean so many people are waiting for this movie to come out. So many people on set haven't been paid."

"Hey it can't all be on you. Today our only job is to talk about how much we love our film and will do anything to get it released." Jason speaks.

You squeeze his hand in yours. He squeezes it back.

"Okay everyone we're on. Remember we have the name cards on the table!" Dent shouts.

And with that you and Jason let go of each other. There was also that. You two were not public. Not yet. The two of you have talked about it over and over. While yo both agree that the publicity of your relationship isn't something that would scare either of you, there was no 'right' time to reveal it to the world.

Or, you should say, to the rest of the world. For all intents and purposes Jason's family knows, so does yours, Harley, Pamela and Dent are also on the list of people who know. Along with Selina Kyle, Iris West-Allen, and somehow Lois Lane.

Really it was just a matter of time before you told the public. It's not like they didn't have their own theories. There are YouTube clips of the two of you, paparazzi shots, one time Tim sent you a blog dedicated to decoding the body language between you and Jason.

You follow behind Jason as all of you head out in a single file line onto the podium. It's Jason, you and then Dent at the very tail end of the table. When you finally sit down you have to remind yourself to smile a bit.

Dent clears his throat and leans into the mic.

"Hello everyone, I'm here along with the cast of the incredible movie Love On The Mend to talk about the recent studio changes and the affects on the movie." Dent starts.

All of a sudden a clamor of reporters start talking, throwing out questions. There's flashing lights that are way to bright and make you have to blink away the blurry dots in your vision.

"Woah wash woah, let me just get through what I know and then we can take questions afterwards." Dent speaks into the mic.

The reporters seem to calm down after that. You watch as some of them who have seats sit down. The rest that are regulated to stand seem to remain in place.

"As of now, we do not know when our movie is coming out. The recent change in leadership has ordered a whole new slate to work on and we're not sure when we can get back to finish filming," Dent says and then he looks over at the whole cast, "I know how lucky I am to get a cast like this. And I know their talent has been recognized by others. We hope that we can get everyone on schedule in order to shoot the ending."

"Now I do want to speak on the current strike held by the union and that is being funded by many head honchos. I stand firm in my support of those on strike. Without a contract that is fair and pays well earned wages to those who show up to work every day and night movies don't get made. I think our cast member down on the left can speak to this a bit more." Dent finishes and points over to the end.

Of course, Nyssa. Prior to coming in front of the camera she worked as directors aid for years. Her own father, Ra's. You had read the article in The Sun that she did basically outlining how bad it was to mix family and work, especially with a man like Ra's.

"Hi there. I'm Nyssa al Ghul. I'm one of several leaders of the strike and I want to say thank you to the people like Harvey and Bruce Wayne who have seriously stepped in to help us. When powerful men like Lex Luthor think they can step in with their money and change things to their likings, they think they won't get push back. I'm glad the union has showed him how untrue that is. So long as our demands aren't being met and Luthor remains banal in his takeover, we will not roll over." she says.

You start clapping before anyone else. And it's Jason that gets up and starts the standing ovation in the room. It takes a while for everyone to calm down again and get back to their seats. You even see Nyssa's girlfriend Sara in the crowd cheering her on.

"With that I will say, I signed a contract with 20th century, not Lex Luthor. Are there any questions?" Dent asks.

The room goes off again. Dent points out one of the reporters in the front row.

"Daily Bugle, all of the cast and crew have expressed their concern over the merger and their support for the strike. What are you willing to give in order to get back on set?"

Dent almost laughs but catches himself.

"Obviously we went the strike to go well. And if that does happen, then we want Luthor to resist his overlord tendencies. But that seems impossible at the moment. I'm not willing to give up the trust these people have in me as director and as human being." Dent answers.

Another report pipes up, "What do you say to reports that Bruce Wayne is attempting a buy-out?"

Jason laughs. Dent looks over at him and nods at him to take the question. So Jason leans into the mic on the table.

"As much as my father would like to, he won't interfere unless absolutely needed in regard to his duties and certain relationships. But I do know that he does have enough to buy back the studio and still be richer than Lex so..." Jason jokes.

The room erupts in laughter. You look over at him and you know there is a stupidly big smile on your face. When he sits back he looks right at you and send you a wink.

"Fans want to know if, pending the release of the sequel, if you will make it a trilogy?"

Dent actually does laugh at that.

"I don't have any plans for that right now but I will say this is a talented bunch and if they all want to come back and make magic together then I'm up for anything." Dent answers.

Then a reporter calls out your name.

"Since this is your first sequel and first Hollywood strike, how does everything feel?"

You lightly chuckle and lean into the mic, "I'm feeling great honestly. I still know how to make espresso so trust me I'm secure."

The press roars in laughter again, so does everyone on the panel. You even see Dent tip his head back to laugh.

"In all seriousness, I know how this affects me but I wouldn't even begin to understand how it affects those on strike and their everyday lives. When the time comes to return to set I'll be happy, but I know I'm even happier to not cross the picket line." you answer.

You sit back. You steal a glance on the left and see Nyssa holding her thumbs up. When you look over at Jason he's got a cheesy look on his face. All he does is raise his eyebrows and you know exactly what he means to say. You scold him a bit and then you face front.

More questions are thrown out. Two of them addressed to you which you answer with poise and lighthearted jokes. Jason answers too, budding in with a quick line about Lex here and there. Yeah you knew he had a score to settle with the man since his father is Luthor's second enemy behind Clark Kent.

The conference starts to wind down when Dent announces that the next question will be the last. A few reporters leap at the chance to get the last question but Dent only chooses one.

A lady dressed in a bright red suit. She looks breathtakingly beautiful and you have to do a double take.

"Hey Dent." she says.

Dent clears his throat and sits up properly in his chair. You watch in mild confusion and intrigue. You've never seen someone command Dent like that with just two words. Or you have, but that was usually Harley and Pamela.

"Shiva." he says.

You look over at Jason. He confirms the tension with a nod of his head. You look back straight.

"I have a question for the wonderful co-stars." she clarifies.

Dent nods. You wave at her with a smile which she returns. Jason nods his head once at her.

"I have it on good authority that you two are in talks to star opposite each other in another rom com. Any comments?" she asks.

You're not sure what authority she heard that from but it wasn't true. At some point after the strike your agent sent you some things to look at but none of them were rom coms. And none of them involved Jason as your co-star, as far as you know.

But suddenly a thought comes to mind. You look over at Jason a smirk on your face. This was it. He mouths over at you 'right time?' and you nod your head. He smiles and slowly slides your chair closer to his. It almost makes you drool, with how suave he is with it.

Like he had been waiting to do it. You lean into his microphone now, yours long forgotten.

"We're actually in a rom-com right now. But that's private at the moment and all I can say on the matter." you answer.

And somehow the room erupts louder than before. But you and Jason are already getting up along with the rest of the cast and Dent. You all are making your way off the podium and into the makeshift green room.

Jason grabs your hand. And you let him. You intertwine your fingers together and head out with everyone.

#famous dc!au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fic #Jason Todd fic

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wolfiemcwolferson · 8 months

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Hello darling dearest 🤭

“Worshipping the god of small things”

Well. I’m on with the lawyers again.

Charles worships at the alter of small things.

He always has.

His maman was busy packing away and labeling his karting suits - one for each year - while Charles was pasting one single timing page into a journal in his desk. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t even his timing page, it was the moment he wanted to remember from that season.

Charles goes to London on his own for a sponsor event and they give him the suit and the shoes and a watch and he gives them all to Arthur and instead keeps one single ticket from a cinema that he and Pierre snuck out to go to - to meet up at. Pierre driving too long to come see him, to hug him.

Charles gets a box of his papa’s things and he selects a single watch. Gold and clunky and nothing he would wear, but he put it in a watch box and sets it inside his desk at the factory and then when he signs with Ferrari, he moves it there.

Charles worships at the altar of small things because that’s where the magic is.

A gum wrapper from the day he kissed his first boy.

A piece of concrete someone handed him from Monza that sits on top of a stack of postcards that Pierre mailed him from all over the world.

A parking ticket from the first date he went on with a boy.

Charles holds onto the small things because the trophies and the cars and the watches don’t mean much when the most important things in his life must be hidden away from the public, but because he has always worshipped at the altar of small things, he’s well prepared.

Pierre laments that he can’t kiss Charles on a podium or in park ferme and Charles tells him that kissing him in their bed when the sun hasn’t even come up is better than any kiss in front of the world.

Charles knicks a fork from a too fancy restaurant that they visit after Pierre signs the Alpine contract and when Pierre gets his first win with them - when he’s on the top stop, Charles is ordering tiramisu for them to pick up when they get to Monaco and he pulls the fork out just to see Pierre laugh.

Charles has a bad day and all he wants is Pierre to hold him tight and tell him he loves him, but he brings him a paper cup of tea that he must have threatened someone to acquire and their fingers brush and he says small things, calamar and Charles has enough. He has enough.

Pierre somehow works out a flight for the two of them and there’s too many people on it that don’t know so all they can do is sit close and talk and laugh, but Pierre pops a mint into his mouth and winks at him and Charles is so in love that he thinks his chest is too small for his heart and so he slips the mint wrapper into his pocket for his altar of small things.

Charles has trophy cases and he has a whole bloody holiday and he has more money and cars and residences than he truly knows what to do with, but his most prized possessions are all the small things that tell the story of his love - of Pierre - of the person who knows him and loves him and doesn’t care that he has a holiday. Only that he saves gum wrappers and timing sheets and forks from restaurants.

#piarles #I don’t know what this is either

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formulaonedirection · 1 month

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top 5 Lewis races please!

this is a flop list bc I only started watching f1 in 2021 but #mylistmyrules

5. Brazil 2008 - one of the only old races I've ever gone back to watch it ROCKED MY WORLD like when he passed timo glock and got back the 5th position and light drained from Felipe Massa's eyes. Wow cinema.

4. Singapore 2023 - he didn't win but he was on the podium and I've never screamed so loud in public bc I literally bought the tickets the night before to manifest his podium

3. Jeddah 2021 - Was this a GOOD race? no. Did it almost kill me? Yes. Did it almost kill Lewis? Yes. Was it the last time any of us really felt some sort of happiness? Yes

2. Brazil 2021 - Watching this live was genuinely The Experience Of All Time. Like that whole weekend shaped me into the person I am today.

Silverstone 2021

enough said

ask for my top 5 anything

#silverstone gif u will always be famous #ask game

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lestappenforever · 8 months

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Hi beautiful, just came here to yell nonsense again. My observations:

Oscar piastri is really cute and one of the best rookies I’ve seen in a while, I was rooting for him a couple years ago and I’ll be supporting him no matter what. He deserves a podium.

Sargeant’s season is not as bad as it may seem. He’s a decent rookie in my opinion and deserves a second year

I’m baffled by Carlos’ statement that he doesn’t use hair conditioner. Why men always get the easy shit.

If Charles and Max interacted with each other just like carlando, they would have the biggest tag on Ao3.

I miss Mick on the grid but 70% of this feeling is because I miss his father. I’ve loved Michael all my life and I plan to put his name on my son, if I ever have one.

The bad blood between Charles and Max that led them to unfollow each other on the same plane would’ve been gone if they used that opportunity to join the mile high club

Charles’ piano abilities should be more used in fanfics, especially with the I’ll play Adele thinking about Max plot.

Cotton candy is a MUST in cinemas

Horror movies are anything but scary nowadays

Phone sex is a really good plot. Wet dreams too.

Ibuprofen never worked for my cramps, I’m dying inside since yesterday.

That’s it, see you soon for more ridiculous intakes 🫶🏻

Evie, my love, my light, my universe. This is literally one of my absolute favourite Tumblr notifications to get:

Oscar Piastri: I could not agree with you more.

Sargeant: Also could not agree with you more.

Carlos and conditioner: Honestly, the fact that men can use 3-in1 soaps and have the most luscious locks and the most flawless skin is an injustice I will never get over.

Charles and Max AO3 tag: Oh my God, you're so right.

Mick: I miss him too. Michael's accident broke my heart when it happened, and still makes me sad to think about all these years later. I think naming a potential future son Michael is beautiful.

The Great Lestappen Unfollowing: Oh, absolutely. They should have just made the mature, reasonable decision to join the mile high club together as opposed to unfollowing each other.

Charles' piano talents in fics: I agree and I love this.

Cotton candy in cinemas: YES.

Horror movies: You're right, with a select few exceptions.

Phone sex and wet dreams as a plot: Evie, my love, I worship your brain.

Ibuprofen and cramps: You poor thing. I'm sending you all the love. 💕

I will never not love seeing you in my inbox, and I am already excited for next time. I love you so very much. ❤️

#Asks #Personal #killingevie #Evie's beautiful brainrots #My tag for “Evie is the queen of my heart and my sunshine forever”

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estebanbicon · 10 months

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jaguar favouring mitch only for him to fuck it and sam being on the podium. poetic cinema

#fe

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harrison-abbott · 9 months

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A Short Review of Oppenheimer (2023)

Why would you want to make a film about Richard Nixon?

Oliver Stone did that in 1995, with Anthony Hopkins starring as Nixon. Hopkins’ portrayal of the President is one of a chronically paranoid, insecure man who is in charge with heavily charged international matters. He barely seems to comprehend what he’s doing.

And surrounding him are the other characters of 1950s/60s America who were key to geopolitics at the time. They’re also played by terrific actors; such as Paul Sorvino, Ed Harris, James Woods, Joan Allen and Bob Hoskins, among others. They play the parts very well. Especially with Paul Sorvino as Henry Kissinger – who was a great geopolitical villain and pantomime-like character in real life.

There was no need for Oliver Stone to glamorise the plot in Nixon (1995) because the events occurred in reality. But, what Stone did need to do was make the story a piece of art. As opposed to a documentary.

Well, for one thing, it had to be long. So it finally churned out around three hours in length. In order for it not to be tedious, Stone spliced up the time periods. It couldn’t be a long, linear epic – so he mixed up what happened into short, frenzied scenes with bursts of action. Often using black and white for historical parts and colour for modern; and yet, with present-day scenes featuring Nixon as an older, finished, defeated man.

This mix of content is dense and spanning. But it never gets dull. And it is essentially the portrait of one man. The movie is asking questions about this single person, against a background of mayhem of which he is directly integrated.

I thought the exact same way about Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer (2023): and have rarely seen a pair of films which I found quite so alike.

We have a brilliant lead actor in Cillian Murphy. Who is constantly fraught and uncertain with his plans, which have worldwide consequences. And all around him are these other people who are equally as compulsive in their disastrous ambitions. [And they’re also played by a star studded cast, of Robert Downey Jr, Matt Damon, Florence Pugh, Kenneth Branagh, Gary Oldman, etc etc.)

The movie lasts 3 hours. It switches throughout its tenure with an array of time periods and the scenes are short and alarming and the tension never quite ceases. Many of the scenes are shot in different tonalities and this adds to the overall sense of nightmarish delusion.

Why would anybody want to make a blockbuster film about the men (or man) who invented the atomic bomb? If we were to watch Grave of the Fireflies (1988) would that not be enough to make up one’s moral notion of what happened?

What I believe Oppenheimer has triumphed with in being a blockbuster is by making entertainment ambiguous. Which is difficult to do in a mass sense: make a popular movie questionable. There is no doubt that it’s a great film. Many ‘big’ movies come out each year which are only intended for gluttony or indulgence.

However. And, just as a parting thought: is Oppenheimer as disturbing as Grave of the Fireflies? Or Nixon, for that matter?

Of course it’s important to inform people about the past. Just as it is with current affairs.

There are films like Downfall (2004) and lofty television shows like Band of Brothers (2001) which are both historical accounts, and yet have completely different attitudes or modes of expression. Both were about World War II, yes, but, they show very alternative depictions of the conflict.

In Nixon, about 90 minutes into the flick, there is a terrific moment of cinema. Whereby we’re introduced to Nixon’s 1968 inauguration speech – and we see Anthony Hopkins by his podium: just as he’s about to start speaking. But the camera is below the podium. And we can only see his edgy, distressed face. He does not look like a man who is happy at just winning the Presidency of the United States. It’s a fantastic feat, sure. Except he’s in total terror about what to do with his position, or where it will lead.

The camera then spans up and the light and colour changes and Hopkins then smiles and waves to the crowd and the folks applaud and cheer for him.

Quite similar (if you agree?) to the scene in Oppenheimer where he making a speech to the filled auditorium just after the bombs have been dropped in Japan; and he inwardly imagines the explosions going off in his very vicinity, and what they would do to the bodies in the audience.

#writeblr #film review #oppenheimer #movie reviews #opinions #nixon 1995 #christopher nolan #oliver stone

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mariacallous · 5 months

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WARSAW, Dec 11 (Reuters) - Poland's parliament backed Donald Tusk to become prime minister on Monday, ending eight years of nationalist rule and putting the country on track for a thawing of relations with the European Union.

Poland has seen tens of billions of euros of European Union funds frozen due to a dispute with Brussels over democratic standards, but Tusk, a former European Council president, has vowed to mend relations and unblock the cash.

Tusk got the votes of 248 lawmakers while 201 were against.

"I will be indebted to all those who trusted in this new, wonderful Poland, to all those who trusted us ...and decided to make this historic change," he told the chamber after the vote.

Earlier in the day former Prime Minister Mateusz Morawiecki of the nationalist Law and Justice (PiS) party lost a vote of confidence.

His party came first in the Oct. 15 election and got the first shot at forming a government, but it lacked necessary majority and all other parties had ruled out working with it.

PiS has cast itself as a defender of Poland's sovereignty and identity that has also improved living standards for millions by boosting social benefits and the minimum wage.

Critics, however, say PiS undermined judicial independence, turned state-owned media into a propaganda outlet and fomented prejudice against minorities such as immigrants and the LGBT community.

In a sign of the deep personal animosity PiS leader Jaroslaw Kaczynski feels towards Tusk, he stormed onto the podium following the vote and told the new prime minister - "I know one thing, you are a German agent!"

During the election campaign PiS regularly painted Tusk as Berlin's stooge.

Tusk will give a speech to parliament on Tuesday laying out his government's plans and will then face a vote of confidence.

CHALLENGES

While the mood among Tusk supporters in parliament and beyond was jubilant, events elsewhere in Warsaw highlighted the challenges he will face in unblocking the frozen EU cash.

Poland's Constitutional Tribunal ruled on Monday that judicial reform legislation which Poland needed to pass in order to access the funds was unconstitutional.

It reached the same conclusion about penalties imposed by the European Union's top court before it reaches a final ruling, known as interim measures.

While Tusk is seen in Brussels as a leader who can set the bloc's largest eastern member back on a pro-EU course, officials have said that no funds will be released without judicial reforms.

Analysts say this task could be complicated not only by the presence of judges appointed under an overhaul implemented by PiS which critics say politicised the courts, but also by the veto power of President Andrzej Duda, a PiS ally.

Nevertheless, congratulations poured in from abroad, including from Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy and European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen.

"Your experience and strong commitment to our European values will be precious in forging a stronger Europe, for the benefit of the Polish people," she wrote on social media platform X.

RECORD TURNOUT

Poland's October election saw a record turnout of 74% with people in some locations queueing for hours to vote.

"They didn't give up in these lines, they just stayed there until midnight and they still wanted to be part of this change," parliament speaker Szymon Holownia told reporters.

"Dear members of parliament ... the power that we showed on Oct. 15 is in our hands."

There has been huge interest in the parliament's workings since the election and subscriptions to its YouTube channel have rocketed.

Certain sessions have attracted well over a million viewers on the platform and one Warsaw cinema showed Monday's session on the big screen, attracting so much interest that around 2,000 people were on a waiting list for tickets.

Some observers have also attributed the surge in interest in part to the appointment of Holownia as speaker. His wise-cracking while running debates has charmed many who first got to know him as a host of a prime-time talent show.

Lech Walesa, Poland's first democratically elected president after the fall of communism, who led the Solidarity trade union and won the Nobel Peace Prize, was in attendance and received multiple standing ovations from the coalition set to take power.

Dressed in a sweater bearing the word "Constitution", which opponents of PiS wear to show their condemnation of what they say was democratic backsliding under the party's rule, Walesa, 80, had just left hospital after a bout of COVID to attend.

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extape · 1 year

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Chance Encounters in Woodsboro, CA — G.F.

summary: new era, new(?) ghostface, new final girl. if you thought being a murder victim would be bad, wait until you get a load of your new-and-improved role. Get ready to star in your own homemade horror film, your co-star is dying to meet you ♡ ♡ ♡

INCLUDES: multi-part series; non-canon au; college setting; allusions to stalking; a meet-cute but it’s actually toxic wish-fulfillment.

It started on a Tuesday at 1:15.

You didn’t consider yourself an overly ambitious student. Middling seemed an apt description. Your course-load for the term reflected that, and while you were kind of coasting by in good faith that C’s would definitely/probably earn a degree, you were always prepared in the classroom.

Pencil. Notebook. Even a highlighter. That’s why you had talked to him that Tuesday, tucked in the back of Dr. Olsen’s Independent Films class.

“Do you have a pen I could borrow?”

It was the middle of a lecture on sound-editing. The room’s lights were still dimmed from their recent presentation on European cinema, and you were beginning to nod off. Dr. Olsen had been a fixture at the podium for the past thirty-or-so minutes as he continued on, and on, and he fidgeted so rarely that it seemed like his mouth was the only part of his body that was capable of movement.

“— and that is how you are able to differentiate between the diegetic and non-diegetic sounds. And while sound in film and television is either diegetic, non-diegetic, or a mix of the two, it’s important to always consider —”

You ignored the first brush of something against the skin of your shoulder; you sat up in your seat the second time.

“Hey, can I borrow a pen?”

Billy — whom you shared one class and a handful of passing encounters with — was hushed as he leaned forward, repeating himself. There was the faint thump of his shoe against the linoleum, the creak of his chair. Dr. Olsen continued in his drawl as you craned your neck, nearly coming nose-to-nose as you offered the no. 2 pencil you had been scribbling with; you hadn’t been taking notes. You didn't think Billy had been, either.

He mumbled his appreciation, his breath tickling your neck, and the lecture went on. It wasn’t until the projector was switched off and students began trickling through the door that he caught your attention again, lingering at his desk.

“I’m keeping this,” he said, holding your pencil to his nose. “Hope you have a spare.”

The last time you had talked had been earlier in the term — a forgettable encounter at a house-party downtown, more of a respective nod of acknowledgment than anything. Now, your smile was awkward as you packed your papers into your bag.

“Take good care of it," you replied. "Sentimental value.”

"I'll sharpen it on the hour.”

And that’s all there had been to the interaction; he asked for a pen, you gave him a pencil. Short and simple. Almost sweet, if you took his eyes into consideration. You left it at that and went your separate ways until next Tuesday, but it was a start.

For Billy — who tracked the expanse of your back as you left Dr. Olsen’s class, and continued his stare until you had finally exited his line of sight — it was a start.

---

It turned out that prolonged exposure to fluorescent lighting caused headaches.

You came to this discovery upon your third hour in the library. It was evening, nearing dusk, and the third-floor lounge was quiet. Thank fuck, it was quiet. You didn’t think you could manage your headache evolving into a migraine. Your Tylenol supply was limited, and as you crushed another tablet between your teeth, you stacked another textbook onto the pile you’d collected.

Anatomy and Physiology 101 turned out to be a bitch to learn. Not for lack of trying. Ventricular systems, pulmonary arteries, neural tubes — it all tended to blur together after a few hours of staring at print on paper, and you doubted you had anything to show for your efforts beyond dry retinas and what would probably be a C- on tomorrow’s exam.

Gray’s Anatomy for Students was kind of fucking bullshit.

You pressed your palms into your eyes and heaved a sigh — fuck it. An old dog couldn’t be taught new tricks, and an academically challenged student couldn’t memorize the entirety of the human nervous system in one evening. You were overdue for a break; you wanted to go outside for a smoke, maybe eat something with empty carbs, or caffeine, or preferably both.

It was a short trip downstairs, and you ended up with a dented can of Coca-Cola and a semi-melted chocolate bar, courtesy of the first-floor vending machines. It’s only as you made your way back up the second-floor staircase that you realized how empty the other lounges were. The entire building, really. No one but you and a wayward janitor, if you were being optimistic, and it almost seemed theatrical. Flickering lights, lonely corridors, no one in sight.

That was probably Red Flag #1, reminiscing on it.

The metal door to the third-floor lounge gave a heavy bang as you kicked it open, your hands occupied. There was the louder crack! of your aluminum can being opened, fizz bubbling over the rim, and you licked at your wetted thumb as you sulked back to your study-table.

Your headache was getting worse; you didn’t remember leaving a textbook opened at your seat — a thick paperback with more creases than actual paper, thumbed through within an inch of its spine. The title was unfamiliar.

Fundamentals of Anatomy & Physiology, 2nd Edition. Page 174.

There was a passage highlighted.

Red blood cells, also referred to as red cells, red blood corpuscles, haematids, erythroid cells or erythrocytes, are the most common type of blood cell and the vertebrate's principal means of delivering oxygen to the body tissues—via blood flow through the circulatory system. A type of blood cell that is made in the bone marrow and found in the blood. Red blood cells contain a protein called hemoglobin, which carries oxygen from the lungs to all parts —

Jesus H. Christ — you couldn’t care less. Fuck hemoglobin. A quick glance at the checkout card showed that you indeed checked it out, your name stamped underneath a Danny Johnson - OUT: August 2nd - IN: September 24th. You blew out a heavy breath that conveyed more than intended and, popping another Tylenol, you told yourself that a C- really wouldn’t be too bad. You tapped out not too long after, ditching the library with your metaphorical tail between your legs, resigned to be a stupid, old fuckin' dog.

(For all of your efforts, you ended up with a highly impressive 79% — sans bonus points. The fluorescent-induced headache was somewhat worth it.)

---

Sundays tended to be a dull affair — this one was no exception. An impromptu night of drinking had led to nothing enviable, and you spent a fair share of the following morning/afternoon regretting those last few rounds of vodka cranberries.

Your manager seemed to regret them on your behalf, too.

Keith was simultaneously bitter, sour, and salty on any given day — a Type-A, if you'd ever seen one. Typically his apathy would have been something to commend; it was kind of refreshing when it wasn't directed at you. If only the object of his ire wasn't 28 minutes late to their shift with a hangover and a shirt that could have been inside-out.

He was at the register when you eventually rolled through the doorway. Wobbling on one of the backroom's ladders, he was setting up the new rental merch — posters, flyers, stacks on stacks on stacks of BOGO movies, and an obnoxious banner that advertised for customers to Save! Save! Save! Big! Big! Big!

"Late again, wage-slave," Keith called from half-way up his perch, distracted with tying a knot.

You pushed down your sunglasses. "What are you? Some kinda cop?"

He pointed a finger at you, aimed like a gun. "That's strike two — you know what happens when you make it to three?" A rhetorical question you've heard before, and he answered for you, "Not on the dot, your pay gets docked."

He suddenly did a double-take as you tossed your bag over the register, looking down at you with the expression of a man on death-row. "Ugh, god, look at you. Did you get dressed in the dark? Did you shower? You're not even in uniform. What is that stain on your shirt?"

This Sunday was a dull affair, indeed.

Thankfully, his voice somewhat faded as you dragged your living corpse toward the backroom. You made quick work of yourself; you punched in, guzzled a water bottle from the mini-fridge, and slapped on a pair of headphones, blocking out the tin sound of The Cranberries playing over the loudspeaker.

You could still hear a muffled, "And it doesn't matter if we have customers, it's the principle of the matter. My great-grandmother is celebrating her 98th birthday today, and now I'm about to miss the cake and candles on account of your tardiness —"

He was a dedicated servant of Video Star Movie Rentals, you'd give him that much. Weird fucker. At the very least, you supposed that you appreciated the five-finger discount he often let slide whenever the store received a new shipment of CD's. You clipped on your name-tag as you made your way back to the register, and Keith had lowered himself from the ladder, but he was still talking. Loudly.

"Make sure that Debbie is on the right-hand side of the display shelves," he pointed to the counter where a cardboard-standee of Debbie Harry laid, flanked by BOGO boxes. "Right. Not left," he stressed. "If it's left, it messes up the entire setup I've cultivated, and I cannot afford to fix your shit just because you want to experiment with Feng Shui."

Fair point. It was hard to get a word in edgewise; you settled for nodding at the appropriate times. It was only after a semi-lengthy lecture on the importance of timeliness and making sure to lock both entrances before clocking out that Keith reluctantly tossed you the keys, the metal bell jingling against the door as he left, and the Cranberries weren't playing anymore. Sonic Youth had taken over the airwaves.

Lowering your shades, you took a survey of the store; other than a couple of high-schoolers trying to surreptitiously sneak a peek into the Adult Video section, the place was empty. Certifiably DOA. You figured the general public had better things to do than save big and rent B-movies, and it made for a quiet environment, at the least — very peaceful. Your hangover appreciated it.

Maneuvering Debbie was short work, and it took less than 30 minutes for you to organize the register. Soon enough, all you were left with were the BOGO boxes, each one packed with a heady (and dusty) variety: children's animation, chick flicks, wrestling tapes, some low-budget horror movies that were probably filmed in a sad, Midwestern basement. You spotted a Roman Bridger DVD in the mix and took it for yourself.

It wasn't too long before you distantly heard the rattle of the entryway bell; the high-schoolers had made their escape, it seemed, copping what you were fairly sure was a horny-satire of The Babysitter Murders, and it was their decent taste alone (and possibly your lingering hangover) that kept you from tackling the shoplifters out the door.

Your shift moved a bit slowly, after that.

Migrating to the clearance section at the back of the store, you began to unpack what looked to be a dozen copies of the first three seasons of The Beverly Hillbillies. You worked in relative silence, occasionally nodding along to whatever was on the radio. Sonic Youth was eventually exchanged for Nirvana, which had been swapped for Mudhoney, and after a few commercial breaks you were left with Frank Zappa as you unpacked and stacked $2.99 box-sets on the clearance shelves.

It was almost nice — the sun was casting shadows across the store's carpet. There were dust-motes visible in the light. Things felt calm. You went unbothered as the Hillbillies ended up in their very cheap, very rightful place, and the WWE tapes followed soon after, then the $4.99 B-movies, until you only had the low-budget shit left.

Debbie remained quiet and well-behaved as you went back and forth from the register to the backroom, then from the display shelves to the clearance section, and just as you were due for a break . . .

The bell rang, again. Keith's 'company policy' script came to you automatically.

"Welcome to Video Star Movie Rentals: remember to be kind and rewind. How can I help . . .” you trailed off as you turned toward the entrance, peering over your shades at the customer.

“You."

. . . Huh.

‘You’ was a familiar face, albeit a surprising one.

Billy stood at the entryway, seemingly caught off-guard by the sight of you behind the register, too. Then he made a deprecating noise, shaking his head.

”A film student working at the video store? Kind of on the nose, isn’t it?”

He looked different today — hair pushed beneath a backwards cap, usual flannel absent. When you replied, your tone was droll.

"Sorry to disappoint,” you set the BOGO movies aside. “Gotta pay the bills somehow. I don’t suppose I could help you find anything, uh, sir?"

He began to peruse the display shelves, touching the DVD cases. “No, ma’am. I know what I’m here for.”

Wonderful. He would hear no complaints from you. You had no shame in admitting that you were reluctant to stick around for idle chat, not a particularly willing conversationalist when it came to wild encounters with peers. It didn't help that you've heard Billy get into it with other students in class. He was like a fucking dog with a bone when it came to anything cinema-related.

There was the faint shoop-shoop of the tagging gun as you retuned to your endless amount of discounted movies; you half-heartedly watched Billy browse through the aisles, picking up a few tapes and DVDs just to set them back down. This went on for a few minutes, and it was only when he chose his first rental that he spoke again.

“Your selection’s kind of weak,” he said critically. “ I mean, do you guys deal exclusively in PG-13 or something?”

Fuckin’ Keith.

“Uh, no. My manager’s kind of a fascist. Real big on censorship.”

“Sounds like an asshole.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally,” you said to the back of Billy’s head, who was crouched by the Thriller section, now. “I’ve been trying to radicalize him, but he’s tough. If you’re looking for anything rated R, it’ll be in the back of the Adult Video section.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you could hear him mutter as he plucked two more DVDs out of the mix. “But I think I’m set, unless . . . you have any suggestions? Maybe one of those ‘adult videos’?”

Escalating from chit-chat to innuendos — hardy-har. The smile you shot back at him was a little mean.

“Aren’t you the campus cinephile? I doubt there’s anything I can recommend that you haven’t seen on a loop.”

“Ooh,” Billy sucked in a breath, hand-to-heart. “Are you allowed to talk to me like that? I mean, I’m a paying customer.” He slid his DVDs across the register toward you. There was the flash of skin — bare forearms braced against the counter, sleeves rolled up. Bizarrely, you thought of the clinical diagrams from your Anatomy textbooks; his veins were prominent. The word tendon came to mind.

Distracted, you typed in your employee discount-code.

“Excited for the big game on Friday?” he continued, not quite wry, and you knew he was poking fun — trying to keep the proverbial ball rolling. Your football team was a joke; cheering for them was comparable to spit-shining a turd.

“Are you?”

He didn’t strike you as a collegiate sports enthusiast. Too . . . alternative. For lack of a better term. You probably wouldn’t mind seeing him in the uniform, though.

“Fuck,” he huffed. “Nah, fondling the ol’ pigskin doesn’t really do it for me.”

“No weekend plans, then? Lame.”

There was a gleam in his eye; he seemed to like your nonchalance. “Never said that.”

“Big date?”

“. . . Real big. Huge.”

You scanned the first movie in his pile — a copy of a French film that you recognized from Dr. Olsen's lectures. "Poor girl."

"Hey," Billy's laugh was short but loud, like an animal's bark. "You're a little mean, huh? What if I have a lucky guy on the side?"

"Well," you held up the next case, a yellowed copy of The Power Drill Massacre, scanning it. "I hope he likes Tobe Hooper knock-offs."

"PDM is not a knock-off," Billy was haughty. Then, with a pleased smile, he said, "I didn't know you liked scary movies."

You paused, looking up at him through your darkened lenses and lashes.

There was a . . . vibe. For lack of a better term — your vocabulary was limited for the day, apparently. He was putting out a vibe, and you rolled your eyes as you scanned the next DVD. Another horror film.

"Just as much as anyone else, but, uh, clearly not as much as you." You tried not to make it sound like a compliment. He seemed it take it as one, anyway. Bagging his marathon of misery, you read off his total on the register. "That'll be $13.00."

He slid you a crisp $20. "Here, keep the change."

You tried not to look at him too directly as you printed off his receipt. It was quiet as you bagged it — the guy knew a thing about intense eye-contact, and you more-or-less ignored him as you casually took two boxes of candy from the display shelf beside you, slipping them in the plastic bag, too.

"A bonus," you explained as he peeked at the candy, brows raised. "For your big date."

For a second, Billy just . . . looked at you, tonguing at his cheek. There was something hard in his expression. Then, he smiled like he knew something that you would never know, and you scoffed at the gall.

He shook his bag in a rhythmic beat.

". . . See you on Tuesday," he finally said, flashing teeth. He gave a two-finger salute as he made for the exit, adding on a pleasant, "bye, Debbie," for good measure. The entryway bell rattled one last time before going mute; he ended up being the only paying customer for the rest of your shift.

Later in the night, when the air turned crisp with the early-autumn chill, the two of you would be thinking of each other for entirely different reasons.

#scream x reader #ghostface x reader #my writing #in this house we ignore canon it’s okay guy you’re safe here

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madstars-festival · 14 days

Text

[JURY INTERVIEW] MAD STARS Is the Gym in Which You Build Creative Muscle!

- Interview with Ali Rez, chief creative officer of Impact BBDO

We talked with Ali Rez, chief creative officer of Impact BBDO, who was a final jury and speaker at last year's MAD STARS, as well as the executive Jury of the New Stars 2023!

He has an impressive list of awards, having won over 900 awards in 20 years at the world's major awards. He is also one of the world's most recognized creative leaders, having been named one of the 'Top 10 Creative Leaders in the World' and the 'NO.1 ECD in MENA and APAC' by marketing publication The Drum for the past two years.

Ali Rez spent a lot of time on the podium at the Awards ceremony for MAD STARS 2023 accepting just some of his agency’s huge haul of awards, Overall, the agency won 42 trophies, including 2 Grands Prix and 12 Golds, and was crowned ‘Agency of the Year’.

Impact BBDO’s full list of wins at MAD STARS 2023: - Agency of the Year - International Honorary Awards with AnNahar Newspaper - 2 Grands Prix, 7 Gold, 1 Silver & 1 Bronze for Schoolgirl Newscasters for EBM - 2 Gold, 3 Silver & 1 Crystal for Waxing Lady Tutorials for GharPar & Indus Hospital - 2 Gold, 2 Silver, 2 Bronze & 2 Crystal for The Newspapers Inside the Newspaper Edition for AnNahar Newspaper - 1 Gold, 1 Bronze & 2 Crystal for Shrine Saviors for Yokohama & Roads for Life - 2 Silver & 5 Bronze for We Miss Lebanon for LBCI - 1 Bronze for Cinema Crunch Hack for Lay’s - 3 Crystal for Redress Lebanon for AnNahar Newspaper - 2 Crystal for Hunger Insurance for Gamers for Snickers

Ali also presented his session,‘To Create Change, Change the Way You Create’, during the last year’s festival. The idea behind this session was that if one wants to create truly ground-breaking work that ushers in a new trend or starts a movement, focus not on the output, but on the process that leads to that output.

He talked about his conference. “Often the answers to a completely creative solution lie in the way we create things. This is true for work that takes on societal issues and seeks to bring change for the better, as much as it’s true for brands seeking an uplift in their communications and business success. If the input isn’t creative, most likely the result is going to be mediocre. This topic is even more pertinent in an age where we see conversations of Generative AI dominating discussions around the process of creation.”

In other words, if you want to create world-shattering creativity that starts a new trend or sparks a new movement, you need to focus on the process that leads to the outcome, not the outcome itself.

We sat down with Ali, one of the leaders driving innovation in the advertising industry, to talk about how to foster creative thinking, what makes a successful ad, and the role of awards like MAD STARS in the industry.

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Q. What does it mean to you and your agency to have so many wins art MAD STARS? How important do you feel awards and festivals are for the industry? What do they do?

A. It’s a fantastically big honor to have won the Agency of the Year two years in a row at MAD STARS. The caliber of work in this global show is superb, as are the jury members who select the work.

Awards and festivals are vital for the industry. It’s an old myth now that they serve the purpose of vanity alone. Instead, shows help us see where the industry is headed, and what good, effective work looks like. Award shows help build purpose in people who make the work and in brand owners who care about their brand. They inspire, motivate, and rally those who see great work and aspire to set new benchmarks.

The most valuable asset a client can ask of their agency is the creativity that the agency brings to the table. Award shows are the gym in which you build that creative muscle.

Q. Advertising has become a tough industry. What do you think are the keys to success right now?

A. It’s always been a tough industry, hasn’t it? Of course, the challenges keep changing shape, but at its core, it’s the same fundamentals: how does one keep creating new things?

‘How do we stay one step ahead? How do we attract and retain the talent that can generate that sort of creativity?’

The race for the Big Idea will always be relevant, and one of the keys to success is having the ability to crack it consistently. Another path to success is building a work environment that is creativity-focused.

Q. What would you say to creatives on the way up about how to make their work/ad great? How best to develop their creative thinking?

A. If you look at the true definition of creativity, whether in arts or sciences, it is always a reprocessing and 'Connecting the Dots' of several forms of input, or inspiration. In order to get to a place where your brain can come up with something radical, it must have something to feed on. What I always recommend is to fill your brain with as much as you can, especially with things that are outside advertising.

Never watched ballet? Go watch it right now. Read Vonnegut. Listen to Stravinsky. Learn about Zaha Hadid. Absorb Rothko.

Steve Jobs would never have offered fonts in the first Macintosh if he had not taken a calligraphy class in school, and it changed how we interact with computers forever. What we bring in from the outside, we reformulate to build something new.

Q. You were also a New Stars judge. What did you feel about the standard of work and the New Stars that attended?

A. This was a great jury to be on, one where we all learned a lot from the work and each other - and I must say, everybody on the jury was just amazing.

There was some terrific exploration and a lot of deep insightful strategic thinking in this category designed for younger creatives. The standard of work was high, especially considering the amount of time the teams had to put their work together. Some cases were crafted very well, while others had a very conceptual approach with local insights. The ones we picked to award had an all-round presentation: strategic thinking that addressed the brief, a sharp creative idea, and well executed.

Q. How important do you feel it is to promote and nurture new talent? Why?

A. It is essential to the industry. Not only from the perspective of making sure that new talent keeps up the high standards of what good communication and creativity are but also from a purpose-based point of view. There’s great learning in it too for those who mentor.

I’m often astounded and inspired by the playfulness and explorative methods used by newer talent that challenge age-old processes. Promoting and nurturing new talent is an absolute win-win for the creative industry.

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🌟 MAD STARS 2024: Call for Entries 🌟

Don't miss out on the chance to showcase your creativity and innovation on a global stage.

The 1st entry deadline is approaching fast—May 10th (KST) is less than a month away! 😯

As Ali Rez rightly suggests, why not seize this opportunity to unleash your creative potential and draw inspiration from innovative solutions worldwide?

And calling all professionals in marketing, advertising, public relations, ad tech, and related fields with 5 years of experience or less! Be sure to participate in the New Stars MAD Competition 2024!

This competition isn't just about winning—it's about connecting with fellow creatives worldwide, exchanging ideas, and receiving valuable feedback from industry experts. 🔥

And here's an exciting perk for the Gold winners: a workation in the stunning city of Busan, South Korea! 🏖️

Don't miss this chance to combine work 💻 and relaxation 🌊 in a picturesque seaside setting.

Ready to make your mark at MAD STARS 2024?

Submit your entry now: 👉🏻 https://bit.ly/3x4rjlZ

Apply for the 2024 New Stars MAD Competition: 👉🏻 https://bit.ly/3P7ch4X

#festival #advertising #busan #marketing #creative #digital #madstars #awards #award #madstars2024 #interview #jury #speaker #newstars #newstars2024

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