Sometimes while I'm doing something, I am hit by the fact that several directors and producers really adjust their plan or script for Connor.

The producer of April X initially looked for British actor for the role of Bex, but because Connor's audition was so captivating, they picked him for the role in the end.

The director of Riley planned to have the character as student in Spanish class. But after meeting Connor and got mesmerized by his acting, decided to change the class to French class.

The showrunner of Criminal Minds watched Connor's tape where he "... popped out immediately." And the showrunner was like, "This guy’s my first choice."

After being casted, they first planned to have Connor only for one episode. But after the table reading, they decided "No, he's going to have a bigger role than we thought," because Connor was THAT good. And their next move was to re-write the script so Connor will appear in FOUR EPISODES. They also made Connor's storyline to have something to do with the big bad of the season.

For Heated Rivalry, Jacob and Rachel wanted the actor for Ilya to be Russian because if the portrayal is not convincing, the whole thing could colapse. But then Connor came to audition and the rest is history.

It happened multiple times it can't be attributed to mere luck. Connor has the skill, talent, and capability to become a successful actor.

okay! controversial take, but I fully believe that August Diehl is a better Actor than Christoph Waltz. (I love both actors)

In my Eyes august could have played Hans Landa, but thats not the reason for the take. Its that, if Christoph Waltz would ever play in a big movie a n@zi role, it would feel like a Hans Landa knock off.

August has played so many kinda n@zi roles in different movies and each and every one felt like a completely different characters, different kinda ideologies and goals. I am sure that Christoph couldn't have done that...

i am just pointing it out because everyone is always just glazing christoph waltz (Yes he was good in the role), I am just sad, because august deserves just as much praise.

Alone for me Dieter Hellstrom was far more terrifying than Hans Landa in Inglourious Basterds

Robert Eggers you’re a genius and you’ve done it yet again.

Today’s deep dive is about one of those moments in David Tennant’s career that makes you (meaning me) go “…wait. Hang on. What do you mean there’s basically no record of this??”

In November 1997, he performed a staged monologue of Derek Jarman’s Blue as part of Corin Redgrave’s Moving Theatre season.

Now, I know this is a real thing that happened. I know the date, the venue, and heck, I even know the ticket price.

What I don’t know is…almost everything else.

Was the film shown? Was it just the monologue? Was he alone on stage? Did he even do both performances that night?

As per usual with David's early career, I have questions. Sooo many questions.

Anyway, if you enjoy obscure theatre history, the Redgraves, or David Tennant turning up in the most unexpected places, this one’s for you!

SUMMARY: after a long first week of filming, things between you and sunghoon start to feel a little less awkward—until a sudden schedule change forces you to spend more time with another co-star, and you realize not everything on set is as simple as it seemed at the start.

PAIRING: idol!sunghoon x actress!reader

WORD COUNT: 866

CONTENT CONTAINS: slow burn, jealousy tension, industry au, emotional discomfort, developing relationship, implied romantic tension

A/N: i’ve been obsessed with actor/idol aus lately and the idea of sunghoon acting in a romance drama just refused to leave my brain 😭 this is going to be a slow burn series so things start off a little awkward on purpose… trust the process

˖°📷༘ masterlist here

CHAP. 01

Acting wasn’t anything new to you.

After years in the industry, script readings had become second nature. You’d attended more than you could count, sitting through countless introductions, table reads, and production meetings. Some projects turned into career highlights, while others became distant memories the moment filming wrapped. As you stepped into the conference room for your newest drama, you weren’t entirely sure which category this one would fall into.

The room was already buzzing with conversation. Staff members moved between tables carrying paperwork while actors greeted one another, some meeting for the first time and others reuniting after previous projects. You offered polite bows to familiar faces as you made your way inside, searching for your assigned seat.

That’s when you spotted him.

Park Sunghoon.

You knew who he was, of course. Anyone living in South Korea knew who he was. Between ENHYPEN’s success and his growing popularity outside of music, his face wasn’t exactly easy to miss. Still, this would be the first time you’d ever actually worked together.

You’d expected him to be surrounded by people.

Instead, he sat quietly in his chair, script already open in front of him. He looked focused. Maybe a little nervous.

As if sensing your gaze, he glanced up.

For a brief moment, your eyes met.

Both of you immediately bowed.

The interaction lasted less than two seconds.

Yet somehow it managed to be awkward.

You quickly looked away and continued toward your seat, only to realize your assigned spot happened to be directly beside him.

Of course it was.

The script reading began shortly afterward, saving both of you from any forced small talk. For the next couple of hours, the cast worked through the drama scene by scene while the writers and director occasionally paused to explain certain details. You found yourself paying more attention to Sunghoon than you’d expected.

Not intentionally.

Just out of curiosity.

This would be his first major acting role, and while there were moments where his nerves showed, he was surprisingly prepared. Every line had notes written beside it. Entire sections of the script were highlighted. Whenever the director offered feedback, he listened carefully before immediately applying it.

It was obvious he was taking this seriously.

By the time the reading ended, the room felt considerably lighter than before. Conversations started up again as people packed their belongings and discussed upcoming filming schedules. You were gathering your things when a voice beside you caught your attention.

“You did really well.”

You looked up.

Sunghoon looked almost as surprised as you did.

A small smile appeared on your face.

“So did you.”

His ears immediately turned pink.

“Thank you.”

Neither of you said anything after that.

Not because the conversation was over.

More because neither of you seemed to know where to take it next.

A manager called his name moments later, effectively ending the interaction before either of you could figure it out.

Still, as you left the building that afternoon, you found yourself smiling slightly.

The conversation had lasted all of ten seconds.

It wasn’t much.

But it was a start.

The first few weeks of filming passed faster than expected.

Like every production, there was an adjustment period. Long hours became normal. Early call times became routine. Most days blurred together between filming, interviews, script revisions, and promotional content.

You and Sunghoon remained friendly, though neither of you had quite moved beyond awkwardness yet.

At least not completely.

The first romantic scene the two of you filmed was proof of that.

The scene itself wasn’t difficult. It was a simple conversation between your characters, meant to establish emotional tension before the romance truly began. Yet somehow both of you managed to make it look like two strangers being forced to sit together during a group project.

The director noticed immediately.

“So,” he said after calling cut for the third time, “are we filming a romance drama, or should I tell the writers to switch genres?”

The entire set burst into laughter.

You immediately covered your face.

Across from you, Sunghoon looked equally embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

That only made everyone laugh harder.

For the first time, you heard him genuinely laugh too.

The sound caught you off guard.

Not because it was unusual, but because it felt natural. Relaxed. Like he’d forgotten about cameras and expectations for a second.

Something seemed to shift after that.

Not overnight, and not enough for anyone else to notice, but enough for the two of you.

The conversations became easier. The awkward silences became shorter. Questions about filming slowly turned into discussions about music, favorite foods, funny filming stories, and whatever happened to come up between takes. There were still moments where neither of you knew what to say, but they no longer felt uncomfortable.

As filming wrapped for the day a few weeks later, you found yourself walking toward your car with a small smile on your face.

For the first time since production had started, you realized you were actually looking forward to coming back tomorrow.

And for reasons you weren’t quite ready to admit, that realization had a lot to do with Park Sunghoon.