[celebritied]

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#CELEBRITIED:  a  private  ,  dependent  blog  affiliated  with  GUTSFM  ,  penned  and  loved  by  𝒙𝒂𝒏  (  she  /  her  )  please  do  not  interact  unless  a  member  of  the  group  !

𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐨  :  twenty-eight, she/her;  screenwriter.  ¹. stats , ². visage , ³. pinterest

[celebritied]

FOR :  ilan  (  @ofauteur )  . LOCATION :  kathy mendez's tenth annual charity gala. TIME :  early on in the night, after arriving together.

“i almost forgot how dreadful these things are.” the statement is punctured with a sigh not even the martini she'd made a beeline towards the bar for could fix. ines' eyes narrow suspiciously close to something accusatory. "maybe it would have been worth being gossiped about as soulless to stay home." her complaint falls on deaf ears in ilan's presence; they both knew out of the two of them, it was ines that would have insisted they couldn't skip the gala had it been up for discussion in the first place. she lifts her free hand, brushing imaginary dust off his collar, any excuse to touch him these days, the pair of them joint at the hip even more so than when they'd first met in film school. her painted lips pull into a teasing grin, the first semblance of amusement since they'd arrived glittering in her eyes. "you're a complete masochist doing it sober."

[ofvortex]

📍 kathy mendez’s annual charity gala

⏰ approx 10 pm

🗝️ open starter ( tentatively no cap )

“  i  swear  to  GOD  if  i  don't  make  it  on  the  best  dress  list  this  time  i'm  suing  !  ”  minnie's  voice  practically a  high  pitched  whine,  “  like  look  at  me  tonight  ...  ”  free  hand  skims  down  the  side  of  her  beaded  gown,  “  –  the  star  better  get  it  together  or  they  will  be  hearing  from  my  lawyer.  ”  she didn't currently have a lawyer, but she'd get one for sure !

[celebritied]

“stiff  competition  this  year,”  ines  muses,  glancing  past  minnie  at  stella  mendez  eagerly  greeting  a  pair  of  guests,  the  scene  earning  an  eyebrow  raise  from  the  screenwriter.  “you'll  have  to  beat  the  grieving  sister  and  all  of  kathy's  heartbroken,  yet  fabulously  dressed,  friends.”  mourning  in  style—  she  could  already  picture  the  headline,  brows  creasing  at  the  thought.  ines  brings  the  flute  of  champagne  to  her  lips  for  a  sip,  hoping  to  wash  down  her  distaste.  “maybe  you  should  have  arrived  in  a  veil.  or  with  tears  in  your  eyes.” 

[scandalst]

kathy mendez's  charity  gala.   ilyas  shows  up  late,   interrupting  the  silent auction.   closed for   :   𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙎  𝙎𝘼𝙈𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙊 , @celebritied

his manager looks like she's been living a decade worth of stress trying to get ilyas through these doors. eyeliner smudged at the corners, mouth stuck on repeat : image, legacy, reinvention. she's been rehearsing that script for months. hauling him in like roadkill dressed up in a suit that barely qualifies as formal.  the suit fits like a lie.  he  tugs  at  the  collar,  thumb  digging  beneath  the  fabric  like  if  he  just  rips  hard  enough,   maybe  he’ll  come  undone  the  right  way  this  time. onstage, someone waves a champagne flute like its the ark of the fucking covenant. the silent auction in full swing. a bloodstained corset from kathy's last film — twelve grand and rising. the city eats tragedy with a silver spoon, licks its fingers clean. ilyas sidesteps his manager, leaves her stranded mid-sentence. there's only one direction he's moving in. he leans in behind ines, breath warming the bare line of her shoulder. the collar didn't give. maybe she will. his  head  finds  the  space  between  her  and  silence, seeking something, anything that feels like belonging. the space between her and ilan the only place he doesn't want to be cast out of. “ you and ilan, ” he says, like it's an accusation, even as his lips are smiling against her skin. “ this your idea of a punishment ? ” he scratches at his scalp, “ the bleach itches, i'm suing. ”

[celebritied]

she  used  to  spend  summer  nights  wide  awake  as  a  girl,  hoping  to  catch  the  first  lightning  strike  of  the  season,  a  feeling  that  was  impossible  to  recreate.  ilyas marković's  presence  was  the  only  thing  that  came  close;  she  feels  him  even  before  his  lips  brush  her  skin,  the  way  the  air  charges  around  him,  a  storm  eternally  hovering  on  the  brink  of  eruption.  yet  the  feeling  that  cascades  down  the  knobs  of  her  statuesque  stance  is  one  of  total  ease,  melting  some  of  the  rigidness  of  her  spine.  “late  to  a  dead  girl's  party,”  ines  pretends  to  chide,  eyes  still  fixed  towards  the  auction  with  all  the  bored  curiosity  of  a  cat  observing  a  mouse  be  entertained  by  its  own  shadow.  watching  the  vultures  of  hollywood  pick  at  a  carcass  still  warm  to  the  touch  had  lost  its  novelty  long  ago,  unlike  the  actor  behind  her.  she  finally  turns  her  head,  allowing  him  more  of  her  face  as  her  lips  twitch  upward  at  the  mention  of  punishment.  for  a  moment,  ines  longs  to  chastise  him  for  real,  to  tell  him  it  only  serves  him  right  to  suffer  a  bit  after  disappearing.  had  ilan  been  there,  she  might  have.  instead  she  turns,  offering  her  own  affectionate  scratch  to  the  back  of  his  head,  hand  cupping  his  cheek  before  it  settles  against  the  lapel  of  his  suit.  “it  suits  you  too  well  for  that,”  she  says,  delivered  in  that  confident  way  she  had,  no  room  for  argument.  “—would  it  kill  you  to  wear  something  nice  for  once?”  is  what  she  says  next,  although  they  both  know  she  likes  him  better  this  way,  unpolished  like  only  authenticity  could  pull  off. 

[celebritied]

౨ৎ ⋆ ˚｡ ⸺ ines sampaio dressed in dior ss 1996 for kathy mendez's 10th annual charity gala.

[soledcds]

✧  𓂅  open  starter  ,  kathy  mendez's  charity  gala  !

santos'  charm  didn't  come  from  subtlety  .  it  didn't  even  come  from  effort  .  the  most  charming  thing  about  him  ,  it  seemed  ,  was  being  unapologetically  oblivious  to  a  point  that  it  became  endearing  .  a  feat  that  found  him  without  trying  as  he  stood  in  the  buffet  line  amongst  caviar  coated  dishes  ,  truffle  pasta  names  that  felt  like  cotton  in  his  and  a  variety  of  wines  that  had  been  fermenting  for  longer  than  he'd  been  alive  ,  asking  if  maybe  (  just  maybe  )  they  had  some  doritos  .  he  walked  away  with  a  pity  pack  of  fritos  (  plain  )  in  one  palm  and  a  champagne  glass  in  the  other  .  his  worn  leather  jacket  contrasting  against  deep  purple  button  down  and  dress  pants  made  him  recognizable  through  the  crowd  he  walked  through  .  taking  an  empty  seat  beside  the  face  he's  sure  he's  scene  in  a  magazine  somewhere  ,  he  holds  out  his  small  bag  of  fritos  in  an  offering  .  “  the  only  real  food  i  could  find  ,  so  we'll  have  to  ration  .  ”  he  sighed  .  “  i  now  know  what  morrissey  felt  when  he  wrote  heaven  knows  i'm  miserable  now  .  ”  he  took  one  sip  of  his  champagne  and  let  the  bubbly  liquid  spill  right  back  into  the  glass,  setting  it  down  and  pushing  it  away  .  “  don't  drink  that  by  the  way  .  ”

[celebritied]

there's  something  about  the  evening  that  feels  off-kilter,  like  a  dream  you  can't  quite  place  as  distorted,  save  for  the  feeling  in  your  bones.  by  all  means,  the  gala  was  almost  disappointingly  ordinary  on  the  surface.  the  room  was  full  of  the  same  faces,  the  chatter  was  polite  yet  impersonal,  and  the  air  was  suffocating  from  the  wallets  that  longed  to  show  off.  even  stella  mendez  flits  about  the  room  in  perceived  ease,  filling  the  shoes  of  a  murdered  sister  in  a  way  ines  might  have  been  inspired  to  write  about  in  a  screenplay  someday.  but  something  uncanny  lingers  just  below  the  surface,  filling  up  the  space  between  every  whisper  that  tapers  off  the  moment  you  try  to  make  out  the  words,  in  every  barely  concealed  glance  thrown  at  the  evening's  host.  —and  so  when  santos  valencia  slides  into  the  spot  next  to  her,  it's  a  welcome  reprieve.  “how  is  it  you  haven't  changed  one bit  since  we  were  teenagers?”  it's  a  phrase  that  might  have  been  an  insult  coming  from  ines'  lips  directed  at  anyone  else,  but  towards  him  it's  clear  praise,  her  voice  carrying  the  familiar  warmth  of  intimacy.  “i  can  never  eat  at  these  things,  too  many  smoke  breaks.”  she  of  course  leaves  out  the  bit  that  even  if  she  could  stomach  a  bite,  chips  would  be  the  last  thing  on  her  list  of  food  to  pick  at.  her  nose  scrunches  at  the  champagne,  her  head shaking  with  a  laugh.  “it's  an  open  bar  you  know,  they  can  make  you  whatever  you  want.”  ines  raises  her  martini  as  proof  before  she  brings  it  to  her  lips  for  a  sip,  dark  eyes  finally  finding  a  moment  to  take  him  in  properly.  with  his  worn  leather  jacket  it  was  almost  easy  to  imagine  him  as  that  same  eternally  youthful  boy,  though  she  couldn't  have  fathomed  a  decade  ago  they'd  end  up  being  the  type  of  people  who  belong at  charity  galas  with  the  rest  of  hollywood's  elite. 

[celebritied]

(  bruna marquezine.  cis woman.  she/her.  )  look, ines sampaio  was  just  spotted  along  the  walk  of  fame.  the  twenty - eight  year  old screenwriter  can  be  quite paradoxical  towards  paparazzi,  but  fans  swear  they’re mesmeric.  that’s  why  they’ve  been  dubbed pandora's box  by  the  trades.  they  better  keep  their good  reputation  in  check,  because  once  the  hollywood  hunter  learns  ██████████,  they’ll be  forced  to  spill  their  guts.  

              𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 ...

a never-ending pile of creased leather notebooks, always having a full answering machine, a smile that promises you're about to be let in on a secret, the smell of incense burning, laughter from the other side of the room at a party, receipts and napkins with indecipherable scribbles, the false intimacy of candlelight, a mind that ticks endlessly like a clock, a collection of matches from all around the world, the way perfume lingers on clothes, the first sip of coffee at midnight when there's a long road ahead, a kind of confidence that inspires devotion, the inherent romanticism of handwritten letters, curiosity that borders on obsession, the crackle of an old record player, curing all ails with sunshine and saltwater, turning conversations into scripts even when you don't mean to, the cool touch of silk bedsheets, tortoiseshell framed glasses, a penchant for secrecy, imported cigarettes at the bottom of an expensive purse.

              𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 …

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.  ines sampaio.  𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬.  pandora’s box, as dubbed by the trades.  𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 & 𝐚𝐠𝐞.  january 4th & twenty-eight.  𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜. capricorn sun, scorpio moon. 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬.  cis woman & she/her .  𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.  bisexual.  𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡.  rio de janeiro, brazil.  𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲.  brazilian.  𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.  los angeles, california.  𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.  screenwriter. click here for more !

               𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 …

     # 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝘰𝘯𝘦

TW:  very  brief  mentions  of  alcoholism, religion and death. the origins of a screenwriter are of little consequence in the grand scheme of hollywood. most of the time, ines sampaio exists in the public mind the way venus was birthed from the seafoam—  which is to say suddenly, from places unknown. the truth is less cinematic. tucked away in a quiet pocket of rio de janeiro, the sampaio household would serve as the backdrop to the beginnings of a dream misunderstood. she always had a talent for storytelling. the third born daughter to a saint and a drunk didn't make most things easy, but creative power was not something ines ever struggled with. she was an outcast in her town from a young age, with an imagination that drove many a catholic school nun into scandalous outrage. teachers praised her brilliance in the classroom, while her parents tried to convince her that her mind would be put to better use in a more traditional field, like the ones her siblings favored. writing wasn't something ines even considered at first, aside from the diaries she'd started keeping since she was seven. in the beginning, the tale weaving was only oral; elaborate stories rewriting her own life passed on to shopkeepers, classmates, sometimes even her own siblings. it wasn't her intention to lie, in fact ines knew it would be very easy to separate fact from fiction when most of the time the events she was rewriting involved her notoriously deadbeat father. what she wanted to do was captivate— and at that, ines succeeded. putting pen to paper was only the natural next step, adolescence finding her with a whole new host of problems to work out, which she did in the privacy of locked journals. she's introduced to film by chance; there'd never been a television in the sampaio household, a luxury they couldn't afford. the movies they'd watch in school never interested her, monotonous and filled to the brim with religious lessons ines couldn't care less about. but real film? it was love at first sight. she'd made a friend the summer before she turned thirteen, beatriz, that would change her life in more than one way. together the girls would sneak into cinemas, watching reruns of classic films, or anticipating the arrival of new ones with a hunger unable to be satisfied entirely. soon enough ines was inspired to write her own scripts, beatriz serving as the heroine in a myriad of never-finished screenplays. they dreamt of los angeles, of leaving brazil together— only beatriz would die a little after her sixteenth birthday. a terrible accident, they called it. but no papers mentioned the unnatural way the girl's body had bent, nor the eyes that would forever gaze into nothing. it would be the first line ines wrote for the screenplay that finally had an ending. at seventeen years old she left her hometown for good, her new chapter in the city of angels just beginning.

     # 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝘵𝘸𝘰

in 1985, ines arrived in california with nothing but a suitcase and the address of a grandmother she hadn't seen since her baptism scrawled out on a worn piece of paper. iara de andrade was a retired music teacher living in laurel canyon, who took ines in under the condition she would make something of herself. a patron of the arts herself, it was the first time ines felt a semblance of what it must have felt like to grow up supported. under her grandmother's guidance, she was able to adjust to her new life easily, like slipping on a second skin. the faraway dream of a girl trapped in a place too small to hold her ambition became a reality when she was accepted into emerson college's filmaking program. boston was nothing like los angeles— it took a different kind of adjusting, and in those first few months her passion for film was her only lifeline. it's why ines didn't hesitate to lie her way into one of the more competitive classes, which had already been filled for the semester. stealing the spot of another student, ines knew whatever she did from that point on, it would have to be brilliant. she hasn't looked back since. although she's established in her career, having made a name for herself over the last ten years, her dedication to her craft has never faltered. there were setbacks, like her father's passing in 1989, or her grandmother's only two years ago, like the projects that died in production, or the ones critics failed to see value in. but none of it deterred her from the path she knows is hers, nor the strive for relevancy she continues to reach towards. acclaim isn't enough; ines wants to change the world through her screenplays. it's why some of her most credited projects are those that leave audiences thinking and speaking about them, not because they necessarily would love to watch them again, but because there was something haunting and thought provoking there and they couldn't deny they felt it. news of the hollywood hunter is the first thing to rattle her sense of security in a long time, leaving ines shaken. but underneath that there’s the morbid curiosity of a writer. as someone who’s explored darker themes of life, death, and morality in her work, even delving into psychological horror in the past, a part of ines can’t help but feel  fascinated  by the hollywood hunter. if it wasn’t her reality perhaps she could even find the story of it all poetic. although she realistically knows she could very well be a target, ines is not totally immune to the god complex that comes with status. a part of her stays detached and lets her believe maybe she  is  untouchable, but once the day comes to an end and she closes her eyes to sleep, the impending sense of doom gets harder to ignore.

            𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 & 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 …

for a public figure, ines has a private nature, which ironically seems to add to her intrigue. she’s selective with interviews, famously claiming to loathe them, but does seem to pour her all into them when she feels she has something poignant to say. one of her biggest pet peeves are celebrities who purposely attract the attention of tabloids, and she’s not shy to hide her disdain whenever casting directors consider such figures for any of her projects.

contradictory to her sense of privacy, she does have a wide circle of friends and acquaintances, many of whom are considered bigger names in hollywood. most of those friendships were forged at her infamous house parties where artists of all trades mingle, and more notably gossip, within the privacy of her own home. while ines does enjoy the social and networking aspect of her parties, and loves hosting even more, her biggest takeaway from her parties is always the opportunity to observe hollywood’s most prominent with their guards down. whatever secrets come to light, ines will lock them into her vault of inspiration, and likely recycle and regurgitate information into her screenplays.

undeniably gifted, if the quality of her work is anything to go by, her good reputation makes perfect sense. pair that with a personable nature and a penchant for collecting hollywood friendships, and the stage is set. but bias can be a blinding thing— sensical or not, there’s no saying ines is deserving of her positive reputation. compulsive and enigmatic qualities are overlooked or brushed off by those she works with, sometimes because they consider her a friend, sometimes because there’s often a more difficult person on set. she tows the line on what she can get away with while maintaining her reputation, and so far, it’s worked. she finds it convenient to be seen positively, but at the same time, she’s not particularly attached to the maintenance of that label. above all ines values her artistic freedom, so if there ever comes a time she’d have to sacrifice integrity to be seen a certain way, she won’t do it.

once a project of hers has been cast, ines will always make tiny rewrites to her scripts to include tiny, seemingly innocuous details from the actors' lives into their roles. usually it’s as simple as giving a character the same old childhood dog the actor had, or perhaps changing a background character’s name to one with some kind of meaning to the actor. her process is almost always received well by those she works with.

before owning her own place, she had a residency at the hollywod hotel roosevelt for almost a full year. a lot of inspiration for her earlier work was gathered by watching guests come and go, as well as for screenplays that never saw the light of day. to this day ines has a cocktail named after her, an elevated take on a gin fizz, which can be ordered at the roosevelt lobby bar.

she’s farsighted and wears her prescription glasses often, especially in work settings. for industry events and award ceremonies she’ll opt for contacts, amusingly confusing an attendee or two into mistaking her for a no-name, upcoming actress almost every time.

she speaks five languages fluently: portuguese, english, spanish, italian, and french, in order of proficiency.

unabashedly gatekeeps. ines will cut designer labels out of her clothes not only because she prefers the simplistic look, but because there’s less of a chance of recreation.

she holds an appreciation for the music scene passed down from her grandmother, and takes every chance to immerse herself when she's staying at her laurel canyon property, which was also passed down from her grandmother.

since her birthday is january 4th, ines will famously extend the span of holiday celebrations to include her birthday, declaring the real start to the new year couldn't possibly exist before january 5th.

she has a private landline number, which only a handful of people have. for those select few she's available no matter the situation or time of day.

ines is reticent to talk about her past, and prefers to keep both public and private knowledge of her life before california nonexistent. for this reason alone she's happy with her place behind the prying eye of the camera and widespread public fame.

primarily writes for films, although she's written for tv before. while most of her work has been in english, ines has done a handful of projects in portuguese as well.

            𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 …

anything and everything! i would of course love to see other people in film or tv she's worked with before: people she's worked with more than once because they got along great, people she'll pull out of projects for because they've worked together before and it was a disaster, actors she's written whole scripts for, actors she begrudgingly accepts working with because although she can't stand them, no one brings a role to life the same way. i could go on and on but anything you could imagine to fall under this category... i'd love to see. celebrities who frequent her infamous house parties: this one is self explanatory and is 100% open to all muses, not just those in the film world. and lastly... people she's inspired by: this sounds so broad but i imagine there are a handful of celebrities ines would be transfixed by, mainly because of their stories. whether or not ines is upfront about this could depend. maybe your character knows they're a muse of sorts, or maybe your character is in the dark, and ines isn't being clear with her intentions in their connection. i would say watch this space but i really love crafting muse specific connections so i'm running out of steam for ideas. i will say concepts that are always welcome are exes, rivals or competitors, close friendships, broken friendships, confidants, etc. AND CUE THE END CREDITS!!!

[carnets-intimes]

“She was composed of many elements, of charm and meltingness; and of firmness, even hardness. There was a contradiction in her nature that was both maddening and attractive.”

— Christa Wolf, tr. by Jan van Heurck, from “Cassandra: A Novel & Four Essays,” (via 89words)

[zeyatilgan]

[jimiin]

“She is poetry in a dress. Although I must confess, she’s quite difficult to read.”

— Lynette Simeone (via wordsnquotes)

[meganspublished]

x

[jimiin]

“In all she said, however open she seemed and voluptuous, there was something hidden; in all she did, however daring, there was something concealed. The clearness was only outward; within was a wandering flame.”

— Virginia Woolf, from The Complete Works; “Orlando: A Biography,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[draumas]

[avatarskorra]

“You have to understand one very key thing about her: She is fucking brilliant. Her brain is so busy, it never works on just one level. She’s like this endless archaeological dig: You think you’ve reached the final layer, and then you bring down your pick one more time, and you break through to a whole new mine shaft beneath. With a maze of tunnels and bottomless pits.”

— -Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

[celebritied]

tag drop.

⋆ ⋮ 𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ‚ 𝒔 . › vanity .

⋆ ⋮ 𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ‚ 𝒔 . › isms .

⋆ ⋮ 𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ‚ 𝒔 . › aesthetic .

⋆ ⋮ 𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ‚ 𝒔 . › wanted .

⋆ ⋮ 𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ‚ 𝒔 . › edits .

⋆ ⋮ 𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ‚ 𝒔 . › stats .