Here’s another sneak peek for the final chappy of Home, which I’m aiming to post in June (60 drawings + Lupus = Julie needs extra time) but now it’s 42 paintings down, 18 to go!! Thanks for your unending patience ♥
When and why did Matt change his name professionally from Matthew to Matt? Love your blog!
That’s a good question! It’s interesting to look at his filmography to figure this out, too. The first project he did where he was credited as “Matt Bomer” was Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning in 2006. But then he went on to do Traveler (2007) and Chuck (2007-2009) credited as Matthew Bomer. Hmm. And it wasn’t just a TV show/movie thing, because he was credited as “Matthew Bomer” in Flightplan (2005), which was a movie. But since White Collar (2009), he’s gone by Matt Bomer. So aside from the 2006 TCM:B aberration, it seems he went from Matthew to Matt in 2009 when he started White Collar. As to why? Other than Matt sounding less “dorky” than Matthew, I don’t know! Personally, I think it was a good call. :)
And because I’m incapable of answering a simple question in a simple way, here are all the Matt credits from his movies/shows, in chronological order:
[missing credits from All My Children (2000) and Guiding Light (2002-2003) because…I don’t have access to those full eps. And there are no credits included in the War Birds (2003) DVD so nothing for that either (he did voicework). And he wasn’t in Relic Hunter and it really bothers me that that’s still on his imdb page.]
Tru Calling (2003-2004)
North Shore (2004). I can’t believe he got “Guest Starring” for a 20 second bit. lol
Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning (2006)
[Don’t have Amy Coyne (2006), sadly]
Traveler (2007). They didn’t have a true title sequence for this show. So his name just appeared during the course of the episode. But his name showed up first! :D lol (Also <3 he worked with Viola Davis on this show)
White Collar (2009-2014). OMG I never realized until now that his name (or anyone’s) isn’t actually in the title sequence! Like Traveler, it just shows his name as the ep plays. I mean, I’m sure I noticed, but I guess I never really thought about it. Weird.
I actually dreamed this one, and tried to paint it as accurately as possible. My writing skills are as underdevelopped as my social ones, but I really wanna try to write the story down. Saddest thing my brain ever produced.
Natan 11.' We're actually being silly for once' kiss?
“Please, you’ll like it.”
“I’ve actually never liked a single movie pick of yours,
“Yeah? Well everything you pick has blood in it.”
Lucifer groaned melodramatically and sunk back into the couch,
and Natalie counted it as a silent victory and slid the disc in the player. She
settled in on the couch next to him as a large, white lettered title decorated
the screen, and soft string music played on the main menu.
The movie panned over a grassy field, then dramatically cut
to a woman facing a stack of papers and an endless pile of stress assigned by
her overbearing boss in an ill-fitting suit. After another round of
lighthearted background music as the quirky blonde realized her life wasn’t what
she wanted, Lucifer crossed his arms and frowned.
“I swear, girl, if this is another movie where the blonde
girls moves away, meets a perfect guy, then contracts a deadly disease, I’m
Natalie leaned closer to Lucifer and slapped his chest, “Not
a disease, amnesia.”
He chewed on the word thoughtfully before nodding slowly,
like it made perfect sense, “Oh yes, amnesia. Of course.”
She didn’t move away from him, and he watched her eyes light
up as the girl finally motivated herself enough to get away from the big city,
and move away to the country. It was a tired plot that he’d seen for decades,
but he supposed humans were buying exactly what was being sold.
The onscreen onslaught of rain indicated that something sad
was about to happen, and he perked up as Natalie’s lower lip trembled slightly,
and the sharp bark of laughter that escaped him startled her.
He bumped his shoulder with hers, “You’re not crying over
this, are you, girl?”
Natalie turned her face up towards his, her cheeks shining in
the light of the TV, “N-no,” she argued, a sniff making her protest sound
Lucifer hummed low in his throat and nodded, “Next time I get
to pick the movie.”
“Aren’t even gonna wait until the credits roll to whine,”
Natalie teased, shaking her head melodramatically, “typical.”
“Not my fault everything you pick is shitty romance.”
At that, Natalie laughed, “So quick to judge. As if you know
“Watch who you’re talking to,” Lucifer said, gesturing broadly
to himself, “I’ve been alive long enough to know what real romance is.
The couple on screen was shouting over the pounding rain,
confessing their love that they were too afraid to admit, too afraid it would
ruin things between them. The indistinguishable main character strode over to
the blonde girl and held her face for a brief second before kissing her, and both
looked fairly perfect for being rain soaked.
Natalie ignored the playing scene, “Oh yeah? And what’s that
Lucifer’s eyes flickered up to the TV screen for a flash, and
then pressed his lips to Natalie’s in a quick moment that had her gasping
against his lips. The shock only lasted a moment before Natalie matched his
energy, kissing him like she was starved for his touch.
Her fingers snapped as she raked them through his hair and
pulled herself closer, but the pain didn’t distract from the softness of her
lips against his, and he tilted his head back to follow her. He would have
chased her out in the rain and kissed her until he drowned, but she would never
run from him. Natalie had practically climbed into his lap at her insistence, and
when she finally broke the kiss, she laughed against his lips.
When he finally spoke again after a few, long breaths,
Natalie could taste his words against her skin, “Real romance is nothing
involving amnesia, that’s for sure.”
summary: you can’t wait to kiss michael at midnight on new year’s eve but a fight between the two of you before new year’s eve changes that
“That’s stupid.” He snorted at my revelation.
I shoved him hard and he laughed. “It is not stupid! You’re going to be my first ever New Year’s kiss and I’m really excited about it, okay?”
When Michael laughed again, I brought my arms away from around his neck and crossed them, my bottom lip popping out in a pout.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” He said, pulling me closer to him on the couch where we were watching New Year’s Eve. I liked the idea of kissing someone at midnight and realised that New Year’s Eve - which was in three days - would be the first New Year’s I would spend with someone and couldn’t wait for midnight where we would share our New Year’s kiss. Unfortunately, Michael didn’t share my excitement.
I am made from the saddest kind of poetry, the words flowing through my veins are more bridges we should burn because a love like this shouldn’t exist inside of my souls that still long when I no longer remember what it is exactly that I wish for– maybe it’s the best friend feeling, the I can share anything with you feeling, the I could tell you that you’re my heart without fear of rejection, the I’ll kiss you goodnight but these tears need to happen less often, the we’ll argue but in the end, I’ll always try to make things work, the I’m sorry after telling you that I’d leave because I’m a shitty lover, the I’m not perfect but you’re not either, we can be imperfect together, the I’m not the one for you right now type of guy, the last words you said inked into my mind, the I need to get over this really quickly or I’ll be going insane feeling, the stress that blows over as smoke, you’re in my lungs and I’m still suffering– I don’t remember much, hell, I don’t feel much, shit, I don’t know much. Writing is an outlet that I no longer understand. It’s just more words trying to pull meaning from pointless things. Poetry is honest, so I’ll be honest. I don’t know what love feels like anymore. Not family love. We’re not talking about that. Not tough love, we’ve got enough scars. I’m not even sure if it’s even romantic love anymore, you’re a movie waiting to end and I’m just the credits that’ll never roll over and play dead. I am made from the saddest kind of words– I can only be heard at 4 am and if you’re really listening, I’m just talking about the bad things after the good. I don’t write about the good anymore, damn, I don’t think I’ve ever tried. Would you like a small detail to it? You’d like that wouldn’t you? Darling, you’re not getting anything from me. Those memories belong to our past– it’s just one big loop. I’ve been jumping and it’s never back into your arms, it’s just who you used to be. Some nights, I dream about who I used to be. You know something? I really did love us at one point, but now? I just write about feelings that’ll make sense one day. A confusion without the question. An answer that’s not scared of the truth. The lie that’s beautiful, inside and out. The words… the poetry… I’m just another heart waiting to bleed. More words designed to make people feel. The writer’s curse. A heart bursting into stomach butterflies that has waited a thousand years to escape. A painting waiting to be a masterpiece. A prick from thorns waiting for the rose to die. A star still explaining itself to veins that bleeds gold. A poet without feelings, darling, I still feel everything and I hate it.
(Based off a prompt of Will and Nico watching an Avenger’s movie at a theatre and Nico being nerdy and Will thinking it’s cute. I couldn’t remember how old they’d be when “Avengers: Age of Ultron” came out but I’m pretty sure they’d be adults, right? If I’m wrong, somebody tell me. I already did this prompt once but I didn’t like the result so this is a second attempt.)
“Are you sure about this, Will?”
Will sighed and turned to face his boyfriend. They were waiting in line to get tickets to see the new Avengers movie. “Yes, Nico. It’ll be fun, I promise!”
“Nico, just stop worrying about things for once and just enjoy this! Please.”
Nico felt his heart melt at Will’s pleading look. He nodded and Will’s face brightened again. Will pulled Nico into his arms and hugged him. It was a brief hug. He would’ve liked to hold on longer but he felt Nico stiffening in his arms. So he let go a lot sooner than he wanted to.
“You’ll like this movie. Trust me. Lots of action and cute guys.” Will wiggled his eyebrows playfully and Nico laughed.
“Is it true to the comics?”
“Well, I don’t know- Wait, what do you know about the comics?”
“Well, when you asked me to go to the movies with you, I didn’t know what this movie was or anything about it. So I looked it up on our laptop and found some of the comics online.”
Will whistled appreciatively. “Wow. I’m impressed, babe.”
Nico shrugged. Nothing else was said as they bought their tickets and went inside. They loaded up on snacks, opting to share an extra large popcorn and drink. But they made sure to save money for the arcade. They managed to get decent seats and settled in.
Nico shivered as a draft hit him. Will felt it and looked at him. Nico deliberately didn’t look back at him and rubbed his arms.
“I told you to wear long sleeves,” Will whispered into his ear. He shifted in his seat and pulled his hoodie off.
“I can’t wear your hoodie, Will!” Nico hissed but Will shoved the hoodie into his arms anyway.
“Just put it on, Di Angelo!”
Nico huffed and pulled the hoodie on. Sure enough, it was too big, meant to fit Will’s taller frame. The hood could cover Nico’s eyes and the sleeves had to be pulled back to free his hands. But it was warm. And it smelled like Will. Nico stuck his nose into the collar and sniffed just to get more of that smell. He opened his eyes to find Will staring at him strangely.
“What? Something on my face?” Nico asked.
“You’re just so cute in my hoodie. I love it.”
Nico cursed under his breath and crossed his arms. Will chuckled. He put his arm around Nico and pulled him close to him. Nico sighed and snuggled up against him. Just then the lights dimmed and the movie finally started.
Nico found himself enjoying the experience. He wasn’t really enjoying the movie much though. He laughed with Will and the rest of the theater. He cringed when the Hulk and Iron Man fought. But over all, he probably wasn’t liking it as much as Will. And he didn’t want to be mean if Will liked it.
After the movie ended, Will and Nico waited and watched the credits. Only as an excuse to wait for the theater to empty. Once it was, they stuffed their leftover snacks into the pockets of the hoodie. Will carried the drink while Nico held the popcorn. They entwined their free hands and Nico shadow traveled them back home to their apartment.
Inside their apartment, Nico turned the air. He didn’t want to take off the hoodie but he didn’t want to burn up in it either. Will flopped down on the couch and patted the spot next to him. Nico sat down sideways so he could lean back against Will and stretch his legs out over the arm of the couch. They sat in silence for a few minutes, munching on popcorn and candy, before Will spoke.
“So what’d you think?”
Nico shrugged. “It was alright.”
Will abruptly say up straight, causing Nico’s head to fall off his chest and into his lap. Will stared down at Nico incredulously. “I know that tone. You didn’t like it!”
Nico sat up and turned to face Will, drawing his legs up underneath him. “I did too! I said it was alright.”
“Nico, how could you not like it?!”
Nico sighed and dropped his head. “You want the truth?”
“Of course I do.”
“I liked it. But some things are bugging me.”
Nico huffed. “Promise you won’t laugh at me for nerding out?”
Will grinned. “You know I can’t promise that, it is amazingly adorable when you do. But I’ll try. So, hit me. What bothered you?”
Nico took a deep breath. “Ok well, like why do all the other avengers get cool costumes that are true to the original comics but Hawkeye, Quicksilver, and the Scarlet Witch just get regular clothes? Where are their costumes?! And really, was it necessary to throw a whole family and farm into Clint’s story? I don’t think so. And what about Natasha and Banner?! Who thought an implied romance would be a good idea? Seriously. And is Ultron supposed to be scary? I’m a son of Hades, I know what scary is, and it wasn’t that! And what about …..”
Nico’s rant lasted a good five minutes before he finally stopped to breath. He was panting when he did stop and Will was staring at him with wide eyes. Nico tried to glare but somehow didn’t feel it had the effect he wanted.
“Why are you looking at me like that, Solace?”
Unexpectedly, Will surged forward. He barreled into Nico, sending them both to the floor. Nico let out a small “oof” when they landed but was quickly silenced by Will’s lips. Will kissed him hungrily, leaving Nico gasping for breath again. Will pulled back when he ran out of air and looked down at Nico, who’s face was flushed and bright red.
“What the hell was that for?” Nico asked breathlessly.
“You. Are. So. Fucking. Adorable. I. Just. Can’t. Handle. It.” Will punctuated each word with a kiss.
“So why are we on the floor?”
“Because I find you being a nerd very cute and cute is a turn on. A major turn on.”
“Oh! Right. Well, uh, couldn’t we finish this somewhere more comfortable than the floor?”
Will nodded and climbed to his feet. He held out his hand and Nico grabbed it, allowing Will to help him to his feet. Will started dragging Nico to the bedroom. He tossed Nico on the bed easily and climbed over him on all fours. Nico smiled up at Will and Will gently kissed him.
“You did have a good time, though, right? Despite not liking the movie?” Will asked worriedly.
Nico nodded and threaded his fingers through Will’s hair. “I did. Now, kiss me again before I decide to go eat more candy rather than have sex. But don’t take off the hoodie! It’s warm.” Will chuckled but followed Nico’s directions and leaned down to kiss him again.
PSA: it's a lot easier on Theatre employees if you just go home when the movie ends and not wait until the end of the credits. Especially for Fantastic Beasts. There is no clip at the end, it's not a Marvel movie. And they have other things to do Plz
Captain America: Civil War. The movie ends. Everyone waits for the real end credits scene like the intelligent fans we are. It’s just a few seconds. A quiet room. Mirrors lining the walls. A ballet barre. And a young Natasha spins out of a perfect arabesque to fire six quick successive shots in the target on the opposite wall.
Fade to black. Only a date, the premiere, is left on screen.