phil lester sits criss-cross applesauce atop a world of his own creation and smiles. he stands in scuffed shoes and cares steady, holds consideration in gentle palms and offers it like the worst kept secret. jokes, delicate and airy, translucent flower petals and lavender blush and making the world a bit brighter. well meaning words settle whisper quiet into hearts, moulding them into something better, something softer. the rosy brightness of adoration blooms steady behind his eyes and glows for something good.
phil lester sits on his old bedroom floor and tells a camera about his day. ten years later he performs his last show on a worldwide tour, best friend by his side and tucks memories laced in silver and gold in his back pocket for safekeeping. he stumbles and a million hands reach out to balance and propel him forward. happy screams and photos and tweets and art and unadulterated love put down roots in his chest. vines creep across his ribcage and beat in a rhythm only he can hear, safecomfortablewarm. he locks it there, vivid and precious.
phil lester smiles, sunlit and breathtaking, the turn of his lips smeared on and dripping joy like a fingerpainting. he inhales colour and light and sound and exhales creativity, his fingers itch for something just out of his reach. mind floating away, barely there clouds dancing and wispy, and lying back among them and dreams about flying. determination is sharp in his veins and laces through his lungs like string tugging him along, do this make that write this down plan this out. add another rung and climb higher. he twists lovely things with clumsy fingers and adds another line to the autobiography titled how to make the stars appear dim next to this.
phil lester looks at the sky, twinkles wistfully and wonders if he could be up there. he doesn’t realise he’s been flying for years.
so in let’s play minecraft - most dangerous game x, ryan mentions that michael usually cleans the office, which leads me to this:
vicious, poster-boy-for-anger-issues, famous criminal michael jones who cleans up after everyone else in the crew in his typical angry way: by picking up their trash, storming into their various rooms, and throwing it about while yelling at them about “fucking being CLEAN, like fucking human beings, and not leaving shit everywhere like it’s fucking spring break in fucking florida or some shit, i don’t give a fuck, this shit’s been here for a WEEK because NO ONE FUCKING FEELS LIKE PICKING UP THE FUCKING LIVING ROOM ONCE IN A FUCKING BLUE ASSHOLE, NO, IT’S GOTTA BE FUCKING MICHAEL TO ACTUALLY DO SHIT WHILE EVERYONE SITS ON THEIR FUCKING ASSES AND SHITS ALL OVER THE FLOOR”
gavin is the biggest offender when it comes to leaving a trash trail everywhere he goes, and squawks the loudest when michael is emptying the trash can out on his bed.
ray doesn’t give a shit, and usually lets michael rage around his room with red bull cans while he continues to play tetris on his phone.
everyone call tell when hurricane michael hits geoff’s room, because of the audible “oh, COME ON” and the various aborted attempts to reason with the lad as various gold-plated and pink-colored objects are smothered in fast-food wrappers.
as jeremy is rarely in his room — he can rarely sit still for long, preferring to be out and about, tinkering with the cars, or working out — he often has the unique opportunity to watch the hurricane building as michael plows through shared spaces, muttering to himself at increasing volumes, and as such usually slips out the door before michael has the chance to go off on him. (mama dooley didn’t raise no bitch, but she certainly didn’t raise no fool.) sometimes, he even plays the instigator before making his escape, sidling up to a murderous michael and asking with barely hidden glee, “whatcha doin’ there, buddy?” when the storm breaks — after jeremy’s out the door — michael just throws some shit into his room with an angry “not even FUCKING HERE” and moves on.
in stark contrast to the first few times this happened — during which she got just about as pissed as michael and would yell back at him — jack is utterly calm about it, and usually the last stop on michael’s route, because a) he’s usually almost out of trash at that point, and b) she just sits there with her arms folded and stares him down until he runs out of steam, and can always be counted on to help him pick up whatever’s left and follow up michael’s tantrum with stern warnings to the boys.
ryan is the only person who does not get affected by cleaning day, because he keeps fairly clean and michael knows it. this is not to say he’s immaculate: there are staggering amounts of diet coke cans left on the kitchen counter every day. but they aren’t left lying all around the house, and that’s what michael cares about. (plus, every saturday morning, ryan washes out the soda cans and puts them in a bag for recycling, drives them out to a “can man” who weighs the bag and gives him money for the cans, and then donates the cash however he sees fit, usually to an animal shelter or buying a homeless person a meal. so the cans don’t remain in the kitchen for very long. he’s crazy, not heartless.) and while his room is untidy as all get out — that’s where all the cans are strewn about — ryan tends to keep his mess contained and out of the general living space.
the one time michael did try to include him in the tempest, the can he was attempting to chuck at ryan’s head was suddenly impaled by a throwing knife. it was extremely sobering.
i may have lied. ryan’s not the only person to be safe from michael’s wrath on cleaning day. nobody pulls that shit on lindsay and lives.
When they mistake one girl for another it's just so funny because we're meant to think it's all spontaneous; that paps are there waiting to stumble with the next celebrity and so they take pictures because THEY know who they are. And then, then THIS happens. It's all so fake sdgdgsghsh GOD I'm living.
everyone rejecting Calum’s offer to be his valentine in the insta-live video is honestly..,,..so fake like.,,.,..you think you can do better than calum?….Calum Thomas Hood..human embodiment of love and affection…..
do you ever just remember that house had nothing to live for besides wilson so he literally fakes his own death just so he could spend wilsons last 5 months with him like house gave up his entire life, present and future, for wilson just so wilson wouldnt be alone when he died like house made it so he had nothing to go back to either because wilson was his entire world and they both gave up everything for each other just so they could spend the last months of wilsons life together like house knows hes going to watch wilson die but hes accepted that and he just wants to be with him and be there for him, and also you know house probably killed himself like a day after wilson died you know that without wilson, house had nothing to live for, this is straight up some romeo and juliet love story of the century type shit
On one memorable Valentines day Ryan gives the whole crew hearts. Not chocolate hearts or candy hearts or even heart-shaped balloons, oh no. Fresh, hand-picked, unequivocally human hearts. More thoughtful than any store-bought gift if he does say so himself.
They’re carefully thought out, each presented differently; If Ryan’s going to do something then he’s going to do it right, wasn’t about to just throw slabs of bleeding meat down on the table and call it a day - he’s not an animal.
While it took the longest to obtain, Geoff’s is the most simple. Sitting in a basic cooler, nothing fancy, easy to identify and not meant to last. For Geoff the gift is not the organ itself but the inevitable demise of the man it came from, the involuntary donor who’s crew will no longer be trying to push their way into Los Santos.
For Jack there is a necklace, long and elegantly simple, the tapered rose-gold vial engraved with a small heart that makes her smile. Its unassuming, decorative and fashionable, perfectly belying the way the lid is sealed shut to preserve the ash within.
Ryan has never stuffed a heart with explosives before, hadn’t quite anticipated the difficulty of it, but his efforts are instantly rewarded by the involuntary way Michael snorts into laughter at the sight of the fuse snaking out of an artery. Its impossible not to join in when it goes off, humour infectious as Michael’s eyes light up, bellowing his amusement as gore rains down around them.
Ray receives what another might consider a serial killer’s love letter. A dismembered hand left in his favourite spot points him in the direction of a warehouse containing carefully arranged entrails which in turn lead to a breadcrumb trail of teeth. Thoroughly entertained Ray follows blood and gore all around the city before finding himself on the roof of an open-air parking garage, a giant blood red heart painted across the floor with the real deal placed carefully at its centre.
Gavin’s heart is in a ornamental jar, carefully preserved, bloodless and somewhat alien in appearance. It’s an almost shocking display of thoughtfulness, concession to the fact that Gavin, of all of them, would be the most disgusted, yet also somehow the one most likely to want to keep his gift. When he doesn’t have to smell it, feel the muscle gone cold in his hands, deal with the red stain of someone else’s life, Gavin is really quite delighted with the whole deal. Absolutely horrified, sure, but in that squirmy gleeful kind of way he gets, amused by his own revulsion, calling Ryan disturbing and lovely in the same breath.
Jeremy, who knows he definitely hasn’t been with them long enough to warrant a heart of his own (thank god?) watches it all play out with a bizarre mixture of amusement, horror and the tiniest pang of longing that comes along with feeling left out. At least until Ryan appears before him, as silent and terrifying as always, and thrusts a black plastic bag into his hands before ghosting away. The moment of shocked dread (whereupon Jeremy instantly realises that yeah nope warm-fuzzies of being included aside he did not need a human heart in his life actually thanks) is instantly washed away by helpless laughter when he opens the bag and catches sight of the anatomically-correct toy heart smiling cheerfully back at him.
celebrities who have never interacted with taylor swift in their lives: ugh taylor swift is so fake and such a horrible person. her music sucks, she doesn’t work hard for anything in her life. she’s just incredibly lucky
celebrities who have interacted with taylor swift (either once or more than once): taylor is such an amazing person. she’s a terrific singer-songwriter, a great friend. she treats everyone like she’s known them forever. she is super nice. she’s worked her ass off to build her career. i love her.
There’s something about Sense8 that you will only notice if you are actually familiar with all/most of the original languages that should be used and that’s the way the narrative is written is completely based in the original language. I have seen a couple of post about how Lito or Sun’s dialogues were weird or too artificial and that’s because it’s a direct translation of their natural speech.
It’s probably less strong in Lito because he lives in a world of Soap Operas, he lives and breath dramatic characters so his character is overdramatic and fake (something he totally owns and accepts) but when you listen to Sun, especially pre-jail Sun, you can see that her English is a direct translation of her Korean. The way the sentences are constructed, the emphasis and tone… she is not a Korean woman living an American life, she is a Korean woman living a Korean life in Seoul with the not-so-uncommon problems in the Korean chaebol sector. If you know a lil bit of Korean you are able to translate every single one of her sentences to Korean and they look authentic, the same way Lito’s sentences half the time would work way better in Spanish that they do in English.
(Edit:several rebloggers have confirmed that, indeed, Wolfgang also talks a translated German, which only confirms the theory. All of this also explains the fact that every single actor comes with their original accent, they don’t try to mimic American/British accent but they have kept the accent they would have if they were talking in their original language and we were only listening to their English because we are connected with the Sensates. Sense8 tries to turn the viewer into another Sensate, in some sort of Jonas. I would very much appreciate if someone can shed some light about the Swahili and the Hindi, though)
(Edit2: Thanks to r-ed we have confirmation that Kala’s English is also a translation from the original Hindi. As it happens with Korean, and probably Swahili too, these languages’ structure are pretty different from English, while German and Spanish have more similarities structure-wise) so the translation has been enriched to be understandable, but the basis of the Hindi language as well the accent has been respected. As I commented on an earlier post, the writers have understood that language/accent is part of the characters, but adapting their language to English they would have erased this side of them that is as important as their cultural inheritance, so it’s important that they only translated the language into a more understandable language, considering they interact with each other in a mental wave length, making it possible for each one to understand the other without the need to use the same physical language).
Michael, Lana and Andy have done an amazing research work and even though I’d be forever happy to see them talk more in their own languages I am so satisfied with the way the have handled the language issue.