TREVANTE RHODES | Mea Culpa Press Tour (2024)
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

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@bcnztruck
TREVANTE RHODES | Mea Culpa Press Tour (2024)
MAUDE APATOW Late Night with Seth Meyers (25/02/2022)
closed starter for GABRIELLA ( @bcnztruck ) 🐠🐟🐡
*˖ ⊹ ──────── kas really didn't anticipate that he would actually like the aquarium. under the impression that it was all fish, and fish all generally looked like fish so there was no way any of them could be interesting, he dragged his feet every time gabriella asked him to train all the way out to coney island for it ( ──it was, he was assuming from all the pictures she posed for in front of the different tanks and asked him to take, a photo opportunity more than anything. ) imagine his shock to find out that there were definitely, very surely, more than just ordinary fish. what do you mean, they just have whole ass sharks in here ?
he's almost methodically moving tank by tank, wandering with curiousity but very little direction, and, continuously failing to keep up alongside the woman he originally came all the way here for. ducking his head to peek into a small tank tucked into the wall, he assumes it's empty, until a little creature darts from one clump of seaweed to another.
" hey, hey, hey hey, " he reaches out to lightly tap and then shake gabriella's arm, not breaking his gaze from inside the tank just in case the thing shows itself again. " look at that fucking thing !── " when he turns to look at her, he locks eyes with the mother and her very young child behind her; he offers her an apologetic and guilty smile before lowering his voice to a loud whisper ( as if that would help ) " ──what the hell is that ?! "
౨ৎ ˒ weaving through congregations of other aquarium-goers, gabriella swipes, pinches and taps at her phone screen, brow furrowed in concentration as she works on curating a photo collage for her instagram story; pictures that kas had taken of her in front of a flurry of different fish tanks perfectly positioned alongside one another on the screen ( and perhaps a sly `soft-launchˊ that had been snuck in there, too ). she had become so engulfed in creating her masterpiece, in fact, that she had barely taken notice of the tanks that she had wandered past, or who she had been wandering off from; despite having pleaded with kas for him to come with her because it would be `cute.ˊ with that being said, though, any `dateˊ with kas that wasn’t just him showing up at her apartment for a night of intimacy was a win in gabriella's eyes ── okay, perhaps she was still trying to convince hope that things were slowly ( more like at a sad, squashed snail's pace ) blossoming into something more serious, but maybe, just maybe . . . ? nevertheless, with a triumphant `hmphˊ escaping her, gabriella taps to post her collage; just in time to be snapped out of her social media trance with kas shaking at her arm, urging her to come and look at something he had spotted inside of a small tank. based on his animated reaction to whatever was in there, gabriella was expecting to see something exotic, never-seen-before, perhaps even exclusive to this aquarium alone. what she didn't quite bet on, however; was what she was, in fact, met with when turning towards the tank that kas had glued himself to. ❝ it's . . . a seahorse, babe. ❞ she replies after a moment of stunned silence, features somewhat forcing themselves to express something along the lines of excitement ( that, combined with something of an apologetic smile of her own in the direction of the less than impressed mother and child duo next to them ). ❝ look, there's more of them over there. ❞ she leans a little closer towards the tank, pressing a finger against the glass to point out another one of the peculiar creatures entangled in a strand of seaweed.
TARON EGERTON Actors on Actors | Variety (June 17, 2023)
status: closed ( @apcthetics ) location: isaac's office
౨ৎ ˒ a loud, obnoxious vibrating noise echoed throughout isaac's office, the urgency of the reminder of a 2pm appointment that pinged on-screen causing his mobile phone to drift across the desk; and folders and loose piles of paperwork were stacked sky-high upon any surface space that was available. one might presume that this was the workspace of a diligent, conscientious lawyer, a pinnacle in the world of criminal defense. well, this perhaps would have been the case had it not been that the 2pm appointment in question had been cancelled approximately ten minutes ago, and not a single sheet of paper had been moved from its place on the pile. instead, isaac was leaning back in his chair, feet perched on the desk; the top button of his shirt was undone, and his tie had been utilised as a makeshift eye-mask. one too many cheap casino drinks had perhaps taken their toll, and having stumbled into the firm after only an hour or so of sleep ( and narrowly avoiding a dui on the drive there ), isaac had decided that some well-needed self-care was in order ── `self-care` in this instance of course meant cancelling last minute on a manslaughter suspect rotting in a cell in metropolitan detention center. eh, there wasn't much that isaac could have said that would have made the poor guy any less fucked, anyway. swings and roundabouts. nursing a hangover required at least ninety minutes of uninterrupted sleep, and that was exactly what isaac had planned on doing; having almost drifted off into a peaceful slumber. well, that was until the all too familiar sound of heels clicking across the hardwood floor could be heard from outside of his office; door swinging open seconds later. isaac, however; remains in his lounged position, raising an arm to wave his hand in a shushing motion towards his uninvited visitor. ❝ look── ❞ he begins, pulling his tie up from his eyes, now sporting a 2pac-esq bandana look; squinting somewhat at the sunlight shining through the window. ❝ i've got a hangover, okay ? so if you could maybe just put whatever this is in an email, that would be great. ❞ there was something of a condescending tone to his voice, and with that, isaac closes his eyes; waving his hand again, this time in a more dismissive manner.
。*˚:✧。 she was usually good at knowing who was who at these parties, which was important in her line of work. she liked to make herself known, do her rounds, and get her face out there. you never knew who might be in the room, and it made all the difference in landing coveted roles, from walking in shows to becoming the ambassador for a designer's next big campaign. tonight wasn't one of those nights though, it wasn't a night for networking, but she had never expected it to be a night of hearing about the loss of a beloved spider.
"oh my god! that's totally not a cute name, unless it's like a family name, then it still isn't cute but so thoughtful. you're being so brave about it."
"you should have probably had a leash for him. i don't take hugo or jules anywhere without one; they're not spiders, they're normal. But i'd look like such an irresponsible mom. that's just not slay, you know? not that you're an irresponsible spider dad; you seem to be slaying. (@bcnztruck)
౨ৎ ˒ joshua's obscure ramblings knew no bounds at the best of times, however; adding a drop of alcohol to the mix was a dangerous cocktail, and it had only been a matter of time before a new hand touched the beacon ── ‘the beacon’ being the enthralling tale of the adventures ( well, perhaps not quite plural ) of tarbert the tarantula. kas had wandered off some time ago, presumably to woo his way into another woman's contact list among other things, leaving joshua to fend for himself with the parting advice of `don't be weird.ˊ the thing about advice, though, was that it was just that ── a suggestion, or recommendation, if you will; so with his co-pilot having seemingly vanished off the face of the earth, joshua had decided to do some mingling of his own. the initial build-up of conversation with the stranger was something of a haze, however; what was most important was that she was seemingly captivated by a joshua classic. check-mate, kas. ❝ it's actually the name of a small village in the west of scotland. i read about it in a book about lochs when i was a kid── y'know, the lochness monster ? not in that loch specifically, because obviously the lochness monster is in loch ness, hence the name. it just happened to be a book about loads of different lochs── ❞ joshua blabs, nibbling on a somewhat questionable-tasting tapa that had been offered. ❝ which . . . i suppose makes the name even more lame now that i think about it, but y'know, inspiration can come from the craziest of places── like, did you know that stan lee came up with the idea for spider-man just from seeing a bug on the wall ?! insane, right ? ❞ he chews thoughtfully on the olive, cheese, whatever it was, humming along with a nod as ana shares her thoughts on how tarbert's presumed demise could have been prevented. ❝ hey, maybe you're right. why didn't i think of that ? ❞ he chirps, gulping down the tapa, wiping his hand on his jeans; having fulfilled its role as a makeshift plate. ❝ i wonder if spider leashes are a thing ? like, imagine how small it would be. how big are your . . . dogs ? right ? then again, some dogs are suuuper small, y'know, like chihuahuas. their little legs are so funny, they're like── ❞ he trails off, wiggling two of his fingers to mimic the tiny dog in question walking. ❝ i don't have any pets now, though. i could maybe get another spider one day, but── ❞ he exhales a content sigh. ❝ i'm kinda just slaying petless as per uzsh. ❞
*˖ ⊹ ──────── " it's so not. " she answers, " it's a medical drama that's been going on for twenty one seasons. there are only so many mass shooting events that you can do in a television show before it's distasteful. " esther babbles, the rhetorics of his questions going right over her head── or she chooses not to see it. either way, the brunette pulls herself to sit up on asher's empty counters, fingers curling around the edge and her legs swinging restlessly.
she doesn't believe him, but she doesn't move to argue. what's she going to do ? drag asher out to the museum to view his mummified twins ? well, actually, it's a real possibility, and the idea crosses her mind ever so briefly. eyes narrowed, she quirks her lips to the side thoughtfully.
no, today's already been hard enough. really, she jut wants to rot. that's why she's here, and not at the bar, taking a shot before her shift later so she can smile and bat her eyelashes into enough tips to afford rent.
" shame. " she drawls, studying her nails briefly and then turning her attention back towards asher. " i've heard that meeting people like you helps with self-esteem, or whatever. you could like, connect with your dead brethren. "
she's sympathetic at the latter explanation. a pout forms across her features. " oh, that's so SAD. you can't drink coffee ? " her homegrown california valley girl drawl meeting her learned new york abrasiveness makes it sound like she's condescending towards him, but she's being honest. " i think not having coffee would be, like, my thirteenth reason why. there's so much to live for in this god-forsaken city ; coffee is like, all we got. do you drink tea ? once this guy who stalked me for a few months gave me one of those little tea boxes and honestly, i've always been too scared to drink them in case he poisoned them or whatever. but you could totally have them, if you want. "
౨ৎ ˒ ❝ oh. ❞ asher deadpans, features, again, overcome with a somewhat confused expression; turning to pour the remaining slither of water from the glass down the sink. ❝ in that case, why do you care ? ❞ he raises a brow, reaching to grab the hand-towel hanging from a drawer; however, upon being met with esther, again, seemingly making it her mission to get in his way, asher lets out another huff. one would presume that asher had learned to build a tolerance towards others invading his personal space ( after all, metropolitan detention center didn't quite offer the same amenities as the ritz ), but esther appearing out of nowhere like a weeping angel was certainly testing said tolerance ── if this metaphorical test were to be marked out of ten, asher's score would be somewhere in the single digits. ❝ will you── ❞ asher tuts and sighs, arm dodging esther's swinging legs as he attempts ( with greater difficulty that such a task should amount to ) to return the towel back to its home on the drawer handle. after completing what one would be led to believe as being a gruelling task at hand, another huff escapes him, and he folds his arms over his chest; somewhat mirroring a similar demeanor to that of a scowling teenager. ❝ oh-ho, y'know, if the whole acting thing doesn't work out, you should really consider stand-up comedy ! ❞ sarcasm drips from asher's voice, his default blank expression further emphasising the facetiousness behind his remark; and he further resists the urge to roll his eyes once more ── it was a wonder that they hadn't popped from their sockets and started rattling around in the back of his skull. ❝ if `connecting with your dead brethrenˊ means NA, then sure. been there, done that. does it help with self-esteem, though ? mmm, no. it was, however; so soul-destroyingly boring that it made me want to `connect with my dead brethrenˊ through different means. ❞ he says, a matter-of-fact tone to his voice; a false, sardonic smile plastered across his features before almost immediately fading a moment later. it wasn't long before esther's mindless chattering filled the small, sad kitchen again, and asher pinches the bridge of his nose, expression screwing up in sheer confusion. ❝ thirteen reas── poison── what the fuck are you talking about ? ❞ he glances back up towards esther, eyes narrowed in disbelief. ❝ no, no, i just . . . choose not to, in case. i can't afford to be defibbed, again. ❞
౨ৎ ˒ isaac whelan ⟶ tag dump !
౨ৎ ˒ kieu nguyen ⟶ tag dump !
*˖ ⊹ ──────── oscar the grouch does not deter her. in fact, very little can deter esther from her goal. what that goal was, nobody could be totally sure, but she shrugs off his sarcasm with determination nonetheless.
she had dealt with all kinds of people throughout her life. at some point, esther stopped caring. the easiest way to deal with the pressures of rejected audition after rejected audition and the crippling self-doubt that came with them all was just to stop giving a fuck. then the problem of her personality became the issue of the people around her, not her. people like poor asher, who really just wanted to be left alone.
" oh, right, " she drawls, matching his monotone voice, " i totally forgot you live under a rock. if it doesn't have zombies or chipmunks you don't know what it is. "
esther pushes herself back up to her feet and follows the arc he takes into the kitchen. nosy to a fault, when he opens up his fridge, she pokes her head over the door so she can look at the empty shelves── and, of course, give her opinion.
" no wonder you look like the mummified corpses they have at the natural history museum. have you seen those ? spitting image. " as if proving her point, she folds her fingers like a frame, squinting at him through it. it's not meant to be an insult. it's not meant to be... anything. to esther it's just an observation. the truth. he does kind of look like the mummies she saw two saturdays ago when she wandered the museum after an audition so she didn't have to consider how badly she fucked up.
" do you have coffee ? " she starts poking around in his cupboards, answering her own question. " you don't. what the fuck is wrong with you ? don't you have a will to live ? wait...── " again, she eyes him, " don't answer that. "
౨ৎ ˒ ❝ well, i’m sure it's exhilarating, whatever it is. ❞ asher's tone of voice remains the same ── in fact, it was something of a rare occurrence for his pitch to raise above levels of sheer disdain for, well, just about anything, really. upon hearing esther's footsteps, asher lets out a heavy sigh; closing his eyes for a moment. count to ten, perhaps ? or wish that the ground would open up and swallow him whole ? whatever his motive, or whatever he hoped would come from it, the few seconds of darkness was total solitude. of course, all good things must come to an end, and within seconds of asher opening his eyes again, his esther-shaped shadow had graced him with her presence. ❝ ha, ha. ❞ he huffs, swatting her hand away. ❝ no, i haven't, actually. ❞ he brushes past esther to retrieve a glass from the cupboard. ❝ security said that i wasn't allowed in for `reasons that they couldn't discloseˊ. ❞ this was, of course, a total fable. sure, much like most security guards compensating with a complex for their minimum wage ( there were no hard feelings whatsoever towards the gentleman who had removed him from a mcdonald's midway through a comedown-induced nap, none at all ! ), the sight of someone as down on their luck, let's say, as asher caused one to grip their belt a little harder; however, a trip to the museum wasn’t something that was often on his agenda. still, esther didn't need to know that. it was more fun that way. turning towards the sink, asher lets out a tut as esther, once again, makes a point of invading his space. ❝ no, it's too . . . i don't know . . . ❞ he waves a hand in the air, as though to help emphasise the point that he was trying to make. ❝ something about medication . . . i don't know, it seems like a fucking cardiac arrest waiting to happen, okay ? ❞ he flicks the tap on, filling the glass with water. ❝ like i said, it's water or water. take your pick. ❞ he motions towards the cupboard. raising the glass to his mouth to take a sip, asher glances up at esther upon hearing her question which she herself knew had an obvious answer to it; a blank expression on his features. ❝ mmm. ❞ he hums in response, leaving it at that.
*˖ ⊹ ──────── wren opens her mouth to answer the rhetorical question, but last minute decides against it. maybe she should take the opportunity to remind gabriella of the faults she sees in kas ── of which there are many. dwelling on it, though, isn't going to create that fun that wren is trying to steer them in the direction of.
problem is, wren isn't much good at being fun. it's not usually in her wheelhouse to be the friend with the big creative ideas. most of her days are spent haunting the record store, and then the roof. maybe she'll spend time with her cousins, or declan, but for the most part she just goes along with everyone else.
" didn't i just say i can't do it anymore ? " she deadpans, leaning further back out of reach when gabriella reached for her phone. in one swift movement, wren shoves it in her messy nightstand drawer, as if somehow she can hide away all gabriella's thoughts of kas too. ( please, god, she can't hear about another blonde girl on instagram in his following. )
folding her hands together in front of her face, she breathes deeply. when she opens her eyes, it's to fix her friend with her best withering stare. " so you'll dodge his ! we're going to figure out something to do. andre brought his switch over. do you wanna play some mario kart ? you can get all your anger out at uh... " she trails off, " unnamed instagram model number fifty. "
౨ৎ ˒ ❝ oh, wren. i'm sorry. ❞ gabriella groans, bringing her hands up to her face. ❝ i'm a fucking mess. ❞ she mumbles through her hands. she then exhales a deep sigh, before hauling herself back up from the dramatic heap that she had thrown herself into a moment prior; brushing her fingers through her hair. throughout all of her wailing, bitching and complaining about what kas had or hadn't done, who he was speaking to or tapping like on; oftentimes gabriella ( selfishly, by her own admittance ) didn't stop and think about her friends’ exhaustion towards hearing about whatever the hell was going on between her and kas. it was never anything fresh, anything different than the last two, three, four times that she had subjected their group chat to a spam of messages about texts being left on read or phone calls not being returned. it was like a broken record on repeat, spinning round and round in circles. deep down, perhaps a part of gabriella knew that wren and nevaeh were right ── it was time to save herself the heartache, but she couldn't let go. not yet. when, though ? god only knows. ❝ no, no, you're totally right, and i do mean it this time. out of sight, out of mind ! ❞ she repeats, a firmness to her tone of voice this time; though, perhaps in attempt to convince herself more than anything. ❝ from now, this is a man-free zone. deal ? ❞ she offers wren a hand to shake ( again, how oh, so hard she was trying to convince herself and hope, at this point, that she didn't need to think about kas ). exhaling another breath, gabriella perks up a little at wren's idea of mario kart. ❝ oooh, i haven't played that in like, so long ! i'm calling dibs on princess daisy though. ❞ she says with a `hmphˊ, hand on her chest; a smile, at last, finding its way onto her features. ❝ although . . . ❞ she motions a towards wren. ❝ . . . i'll have you know that i know exactly who she i— ❞ gabriella then pauses; however, her smile turning somewhat sheepish. ❝ sorry, sorry ! ❞ she laughs, nervously.
KEITH POWERS for ESSENCE MAGAZINE.
closed starter for PRINCE ( @bcnztruck ) recording studio hehe
*˖ ⊹ ──────── " sorry, sorry, " seba is a bit of a scatterbrain when it comes to his workspace. somewhere among the piles of papers strewn across the recording equipment in front of him, there is a handful of alternative lyrics for prince to try. they're nothing serious ── seba doesn't want to intrude too much on his artistic process. it's like an exercise, really. he wants to see how certain syllables interact with the new instrumental track he's added under the bassline.
or, he would want too, if he could find the paper. it's probably lost to the demon that lives inside his backpack and eats all of the stray papers he tosses into the bottom. it's certainly not here, on the table in front of him, where he needs it to be if it's to be of any use to him.
" i, uh...── " seba frowns, and then glances up at prince with a sheepish grin. " nevermind. i guess i called out of the room for nothing. but while you're here ── " his hands are already reaching for his phone, his mind moving away from the lost paper, " i'm starving. i'm gonna order something. any preferences ? recommendations ? i'm still not really sure what's around here. "
౨ৎ ˒ ❝ relaaax, man ! ❞ prince slouches in his chair, feet up and his hands resting behind his head; having made himself at home almost immediately upon arriving at seba's place. many a late night had been spent at seba's, brainstorming and collaborating on different sounds and rhythms; and it had become a sort of home from home for prince. it was somewhere that he could unleash creativity without judgment or criticism that one would face when recording and producing as part of a manufactured pop music label, and prince admired seba's artistry. something else that was admirable, per say, was seba's ability to create brilliant sounds in such a chaotic environment. with that being said, though, perhaps all good artists had to have some level of chaos about them. swiveling the chair side to side, prince watches as seba sifts through piles of paper scattered across his workspace; practically making it rain with sheet music. ❝ bro, you've been running around like you've done five lines of cocaine before i got here. ❞ he swings his legs down from their resting spot. ❝ chill ! it's cool, we can work on it another time. y'know, give drake one more shot at an album before i completely knock the ball outta the park ! ❞ he grins, cheekily. he throws himself back into a comfortable position in the chair again, humming in thought at seba's question of food recommendations. ❝ hmmm, there's a kickass chinese takeout a few blocks that way── ❞ he jerks his thumb in general direction. ❝ orrr . . . no leftovers from `el restaurante nevaehˊ this time, no ? ❞ prince raises a brow, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.
。*˚:✧。 winter had brought about a fresh set of challenges, the nip in the air had been calling her back to the rink. but there was a still a fear there that she refused to let anyone in on. so she bottled it up like usual and carried on like normal, even if nothing in her life had been normal in a very long long time. there was physical therapy and then the gym where she spent her time taking her frustrations out on a punching bag. once she had exhausted herself, a warm shower in the locker rooms and bundled back up to face the new york city winter once again.
she returned home to chatter from somewhere in the apartment, immediately moving to pop her head around the door frame into kasper's room. no luck, it wasn't too often jason ever settled for a sleep when he stepped foot into their apartment. kasper seemed to have the energy and maturity of a small child so maybe he just felt seen. she was about to move on when she spotted her calico critter ghost kitty in the small child's hand. a normal person might have moved on and not have passed any remarks but these things weren't even on the market anymore. tossing her gym bag aside she is quiet entering the room. maybe the moustache that she painted across the kids upper lip with a crayola marker was a step too far but it was the season to blame it on that pesky elf on the shelf. once her calico critter is secured, it is replaced in the child's hand with the same marker she had just used for his makeover.
and she is back on her way, the plastic toy sat proudly in the palm of her hand. she still couldn't believe it, the kid would never have understood the treasure that was the calico critter ghost kitty. she was doing him a favour really. so when she came to stand in the doorway, toy cat still sat in the palm of her hand. and there he was with her pasta, she was disgusted to see how much thievery was going on in her home while she was away. standing allowing him to finish talking until he finally caught sight of her. marching into the kitchen, the palm of her hand met his forehead with a satisfying smack. she reclaimed her stolen pasta, the calico critter ghost kitty remained nestled in her hand, a silent witness "well, someone else is clearly practicing for a role in a bad comedy" she holds up her pasta and the plastic doll in each hand and narrows her eyes at both of them "i am disgusted and appalled" she would eventually circle back around to kaspers original comments.
(@bcnztruck)
౨ৎ ˒ brow stern, an expression of deep concentration was firm on joshua's features. was he, too, crafting an artistic masterpiece that would put the likes of picasso and van gogh to shame ? perhaps sculpting a replica of a parthenon marble that could easily be mistaken for the real deal ? not quite. he was fidgeting. elbows resting on the table, joshua shuffles forward in his seat, enthralled by his new toy that he had found while rummaging in one of the kitchen drawers out of sheer boredom ── a folding steamer basket. now that jason had finally passed out thanks to an afternoon of chaos, courtesy of kas ( that, and his own rendition of jason's `spiderman vs the flashˊ series was allegedly `stupidˊ and `inaccurateˊ ), joshua needed something to stimulate his brain with so that he himself didn't experience a total crash and burn. hey, what better way than to fiddle with some random kitchen utensil that he didn't even know the purpose of ? he perks up; however, at kas’ offering of pasta, head poking up like a meerkat to try and inspect the dish in question. ❝ what kind of pasta ? ❞ he asks, an air of caution, almost, to his question. ❝ i only like the bowties, the rest is gross. ❞ he mumbles, turning his attention back to the steamer. `the restˊ being the exact same food, except in a different shape. a snicker escapes joshua upon mention of dilan's so-called `friendˊ. ❝ is this the one that's totally, definitely NOT her boyfriend ? ❞ he remarks, mocking a valley girl accent. gaze still fixated on the steamer, joshua stands up, taking his newfound gadget over to kas. ❝ hey, do you remember this from scooby doo ? ❞ he folds open the metal utensil. ❝ the daemon ritusss ! ❞ he imitates a velma voice with a grin, turning around to lean against the kitchen counter. open, closed, open, closed. joshua continues to fidget, that is until kas reacts to a sudden presence at the doorway; another laugh escaping him. ❝ i'd say more `the shiningˊ. ❞ he chimes in, offering a wave over kas’ shoulder in dilan's direction. ❝ hey, dil ! ❞ he chirps; however, dilan's accusation causes joshua to place the steamer down onto the countertop behind him and raise his hands in a mock surrender. ❝ don't look at me, i passed on your not-boyfriend's weird pasta. i mean, who even likes the twisty shaped stuff anyway ? ❞ he tuts, shaking his head. ( @apcthetics )
౨ৎ ˒ asher warf ⟶ ( updated ) tag dump !
౨ৎ ˒ marcus linton ⟶ ( updated ) tag dump !
౨ৎ ˒ gabriella podgurski ⟶ ( updated ) tag dump !