#also since when are broadway actors allowed to be that hot?

[tomorrowxtogether]

How did YEONJUN become the 4th Gen It Boy?

They called him “the 4th Gen It Boy”: On February 17 (KST), TOMORROW X TOGETHER member YEONJUN modeled for ul:kin on the New York Fashion Week runway and was described in local media, foreign press and online as an “it boy,” a relatively unknown term. According to Google Trends, the number of users worldwide searching for “it boy” and “4th gen it boy” that week increased threefold from the week previous. As an extension of “it boy,” searches for the term “4th gen it boy” skyrocketed, while words like “K-pop” and “YEONJUN” were counted together as related “hot” words. Given how unfamiliar the term “it boy” was, searches for the keyword spiked with the growing curiosity around its meaning and origin. “ ‘4th Gen It Boy’ in English. Many of you call me that. And I wanted to thank you for that,” YEONJUN said in a June 19 V LIVE video. “I think you call me that because you think I could become the 4th Gen It Boy.” As seen in the video, the term sprang up among international fans and spread beyond the fanbase as people grew more aware of him.

First used in early 20th-century fashionable society to express someone or something embodying a certain trendy charisma that everyone wants to have or to emulate, the term “it” has since come to be used not only in fashion but also in literature, film and other circles. Starting with actor Clara Bow in the 1920s, then later Edie Sedgwick, Twiggy, Kate Moss and so on—it doesn’t take much to call to mind the defining it girl of each generation. In the roughly 100 years of “it,” however, it’s rare that we ever see an it boy. Since the main consumers in the fashion industry were women, the phrase “it boy” had mainly been used as another term for a promising newcomer or other young man who had captured the hearts of older women. Take, for example, Broadway actor Joshua Colley, model Lucky Blue Smith’s introduction in the media, or the romantic entanglements of a 19-year-old man and a 39-year-old woman in the 2013 French film 20 ans d’écart, released in England and the US under the English title It Boy.

The 4th Gen It Boy title bestowed upon YEONJUN, however, is clearly used in reference to him as a style icon. “As a K-pop idol,” designer and creative director of ul:kin, Lee Seong Dong, said, “YEONJUN was the perfect choice for a vehicle who could narrow the gap between art and the general public, and inform the whole world about K-fashion and even K-culture.” He pointed to “the meeting point between fashion from the artistic field that tends toward the high end, and idols, who are close to the public” as an opportunity to collaborate with YEONJUN. They strategically selected YEONJUN in order to reduce the psychological barrier to high-end fashion and present Korean fashion to the global market as an embodiment of the culture. “If, in the West, unisex clothing is mainly women’s clothing based on men’s, in Asia, and Korea especially, you see a lot of men’s clothes based on women’s,” Lee said. “Male idols wear a lot of clothing with a twist of women’s style. At the same time, even though it’s men’s clothing, there’s a unique trend of women buying it.” He also explained that he “received a lot of similar questions when I visited London and Paris. There was a lot of interest. It’s an exciting prospect in the fashion world, too.” In short, unlike the internationally common phrase “it boy,” 4th Gen It Boy implies both the gender-fluid quality of K-pop where men wear women’s clothes and women buy men’s clothes, and a noteworthy status worldwide. In other words, this new meaning of “it boy” was established abroad to describe the boys of K-pop.

Urban Dictionary, a social dictionary site used chiefly in the US that keeps a record of new words, abbreviations and slang used by teenagers, allows users to register new words and their meanings. The entries that receive the most votes are displayed as “top” definitions. On Urban Dictionary, BTS’s V, Jimin and Jung Kook take turns claiming the top spot for the definition of “it boy” and “Worldwide It Boy.” In addition to an increase in colorful men in areas such as fashion and beauty, it also targets women who want to imitate the “boy” style. People also consider it more important to “have a similar attitude to BTS, where they design and dictate their own style,” than to “wear the same clothes as BTS.” Carolina Malis, a New York-based fashion columnist and content creator, said this is because “BTS don’t choose their clothing for commercial marketability, but to express themselves.” The members “make it abundantly clear what kind of message they want to send through not only the clothes they wear during performances but also at the airport and every day. This kind of 360-degree, all-encompassing style completes the artist’s look.”

The fact that BTS’s style isn’t limited to fashion can easily be seen in derivative content with labels like “BTS-inspired outfits” and “how to dress like BTS.” Revolving around inspiration found from BTS, the videos, which are all over YouTube and TikTok, use the various outfits one member has worn, or the different styles between each member, as their topic. The key lies not in some unified standard but in the diversity of freedom of self-expression dependent on the individual. They use BTS as a reference, but don’t necessarily stick to the specific articles of clothing the members have worn. They’ll feature short hair with tight clothes that emphasize the shape of their body, or else sport loose clothing with hair that comes down to their waist. Women and men alike apply makeup using SUGA’s as a guide and construct a lookbook of everyday apparel from RM and Jin’s outfits. Such diversity can’t be reduced to merely girls who want to dress like girl groups and boys who want to dress like boy bands. “In the past, people branded K-pop performers as being dressed liked women, like they’re gay, or other prejudiced remarks,” Carolina explained. “But now anyone can present themselves however beautifully they want to, using makeup or anything, whether they are a sexual minority or not, including men.” Followers of YouTubers who cover fashion or K-pop, as well as vloggers who document their daily lives or hobbies—fashion, K-pop or otherwise—enjoy dressing like BTS regardless of their gender, age, hairstyle, body type or any other factor. They’re wearing BTS’s lifestyle and messages about life.

Vogue called V “perhaps the most fashion-forward dresser” on the red carpet at the 2017 Billboard Music Awards, where he “paired a cropped pinstripe jacket and polka-dot dress shirt with loose-fit pants—a bold choice that he pulled off with ease.” He was voted number one for the Fashion Face Awards in the Asian male category in 2018 and number three in 2019 and 2020. The Awards are run by I-MAGAZINE, who poll a panel of 350 people in the fashion industry from over 30 countries, including the UK and Hong Kong. Carolina pointed to the “Singularity” comeback trailer as a perfect example: “You can see V’s signature everywhere: in the flashy stage costumes that could just as easily be worn in everyday situations; in the artwork; in the props—every stylistic element reinforces the others throughout the whole video. V’s style combines the chic and the luxurious, and pieces typically said to be feminine or masculine, but it never feels forced or objectionable. Because V understands how everything is a part of style, V has become a style himself.” The Guardian recently singled out Troye Sivan, Justin Bieber and V as the forerunners of the “cherubim haircut,” named after the shaggy hair of baby angels, which has resurged in popularity with men. “Once the brave make it look good, the rest soon follow,” the paper quoted a hairdresser as saying about the long hair style, which covers the forehead with wavy fringe. “For the last 20 years men have sat in my chair and said they want to grow their hair with a subtle lack of dedication in their eyes but now that’s all changed.”

After BTS, global interest in determining the it boy of K-pop carried over to naming YEONJUN the 4th Gen It Boy. Worldwide mentions of “4th gen it boy” were first spotted on Google Trends around the time TOMORROW X TOGETHER gained exposure on YouTube thanks to their performance of “9 and Three Quarters (Run Away)” on a music program in early November 2019. After that, with every new release—from the “Can’t You See Me?” and “Puma” music videos and TV performances, to the “Blue Hour” and “We Lost the Summer” videos—there was a spike in interest. When the concept photos for minisode1: Blue Hour were published, mentions of “4th gen it boy” jumped again, on top of which “YEONJUN” rose to number one on Twitter’s real-time trending topics worldwide. In each of these instances, Internet users across the world seized on YEONJUN’s “it” power. “It didn’t take long for ‘crop top’ to trend worldwide on Twitter,” Teen Vogue reported. “The reason? Oldest member YEONJUN’s white, smiley-face long sleeve, the hem of which ended just above his navel.” The observation was in reference to a minisode1: Blue Hourconcept photo TOMORROW X TOGETHER released in November where YEONJUN is wearing a crop top, which has “become something of a rite of passage for all K-pop ‘it’ boys.” Consequently, even in “a patriarchal culture where gender roles are often rigid,” the same articles point out how, “alongside the likes of Lil Nas X … and Harry Styles, K-pop artists are paving the way for a younger, more gender-fluid generation of men around the world.” Citing the message of support for nonbinary people on the back of a T-shirt YEONJUN wore on SBS Medianet’s Fandom Tour as an example, North America-based Korean wave news outlet Koreaboo argues “YEONJUN broke gender norms and wore whatever suited him best.”

“That’s just how I wanted to dress,” YEONJUN said in a February interview with Vogue Korea. “I just wanted to dress up that day and then I heard there was a video to shoot. There’s some instruments in the song, so I thought a Paris vibe would be a good fit.” He was explaining why was wearing a suit and beret by himself in the dance practice video for “Fairy of Shampoo.” Using his outfit, YEONJUN is able to convey the atmosphere he’s after. And just by watching, his viewers are able to share in some sense of that atmosphere, regardless of where they watch from: They might not be able to actually visit Paris, but they can still become absorbed in that Paris feeling together. In the pandemic era, when classes and meetups with friends have all moved online, sharing with one another over social media like TikTok and YouTube is a new kind of outing. Here, fashion is a reflection of emotion and a desired image, not a reaction to a particular place or season. In TOMORROW X TOGETHER’s “We Lost the Summer” music video, YEONJUN talks to someone on his phone while decked out in a leopard print jacket, sunglasses and a pink scarf. When you’re home, you can wear something comfortable, or you can opt for a colorful jacket and dye your hair; you can wear exercise clothes whether you do the exercises or not, wear winter clothes in summer, or wear summer clothes in the winter. YEONJUN disregards the real world and shows off his unique style in the virtual space of social media. Where fluidity suggested aimlessness or chaos to older generations, it becomes a style for the 4th Gen It Boy. To put it another way, the 2021 version of the it boy represents the fashion, beauty and even way of life shared—and selected—by his generation. 

#txt #tomorrow x together #210517 #weverse magazine #soobin #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #hueningkai #choi yeonjun #article

[delimeful]

taking the fall (2)

warnings: fear, injury, mild blood

-

It was Roman’s love of the arts that did him in.

He was loath to admit it, but Virgil had been right. He’d always been enchanted by the musical productions he’d seen on human teevees, always finding a spare moment to perch on a dusty shelf and take in as much as he could.

So, when he overheard a musical chorus while scavenging for extra paper from the apartment with the newly-moved-in tenant, there was simply nothing else he could do except to investigate further!

One trek and several hiding spots later, he’d found the perfect angle to eavesdrop on the human’s computer. Even better, once he was unpacked, the human was consistent. There were schedules and calendars and sticky notes all over his desk, and he adhered to them strictly, making his apartment the perfect place for Roman to borrow for their little community.

And if he happened to make a return trip and perch himself on the shelf above the human’s rolling chair at the perfect time to see whatever stage production the man was watching this time? That was nobody’s business but his own.

He certainly wasn’t about to tell Virgil, who seemed to get secondhand stress from Roman’s accounts of past riskier borrowing trips. The outie was more than accustomed to the dangers of living outside, but ‘human beans’ were a whole different story.

No, Hot Topic would never get the odd almost-longing that Roman sometimes felt when he saw the amazing things that humans could do. On the tiny laptop display, he could almost pretend those wonderful theatrical productions were actually done by people his size, that they could perform without worry of discovery or capture.

It was a combination of indulging such thoughts and knowing the human’s schedule back-to-front that made him so bold.

When Logan came home with an armful of art supplies, Roman was immediately intrigued, though he justified it as checking for useful materials to borrow. He spent that afternoon watching as Logan methodically glued, hammered, and painted wood into the shape of a miniature house-- no, a set!

It looked just like the stage for the most recent musical Logan had (unknowingly) played for him. Roman was enchanted, coming back every day between borrowing trips to see how more tiny furniture and stairwells had been carefully crafted with the help of a magnifying glass and precise tools. The set came together piece by piece, until it was as complete as any Broadway production.

And then, the downfall. It was during one of these little visits that he overheard Logan on the phone, reassuring whoever was on the other end that the ‘scale model’ was finished and ready to be brought in tomorrow afternoon. Roman had felt a tightening in his chest, and after probably too little time spent deliberating, he was settled.

He was going to stand on that stage, at least once.

It took some doing to cover his tracks-- Mari had been oddly antsy lately, and it had been making everyone else jittery as a result. He’d been playing up his own glittery-ness in order to  reduce the tension, and had volunteered to take another shift borrowing at 2B, the apartment with the snakes and the human that had been eerily perceptive lately.

It wasn’t lying, really. He would go borrow from there, just… after he’d made a quick stop to fulfill his newfound dream!

Logan always slept heavily until his alarm went off, so Roman felt no fear sliding down to the floor at the early hours of the morning. He remained alert, of course, throughout his entire trek over to the table that the human had spent so many hours hunched over, but as he predicted, there were no unusual sounds from the human’s bedroom.

From there, it was only a swift climb up with the help of his hook, and he left it nestled there in the wood, just in case he needed a swift getaway.

Finally, he was before it.

The strangest part about it all was the way that everything seemed to fit just about right for someone his size. He was used to cobbling together chairs and beds out of whatever material was at hand, repurposing anything and everything that came customized for humans.

These chairs were like real ones, human ones that fit together and had all their pieces, and Logan had been so meticulous about making sure everything was to scale that there wasn’t any awkwardness to sitting down on it. Overcome, he nearly sprinted up the model’s stairs to the bedroom terrace above it, flinging himself onto the bed-- perfectly matched up linen, pillows and pillowcases, just like a real bed-- and muffling his delighted squeak into his hands.

The instruments on the dresser were light and easy to grab, though Roman was disappointed to find that the ornate hand mirror didn’t have very high quality glass and was a bit hazy. The hairbrush seemed to be handcrafted, however, and Roman ran it through his own hair once, twice, immersing himself in an imaginary scene.

He had the dialogue mostly right after Logan’s obsessive rewatching of scenes-- pausing often to jot down set reference-- and he wasted no time in pacing around the room and ranting in a whisper, detailing an imaginary conflict in an aside to the audience. He mocked slamming the hairbrush down on the dresser, and turning, the anger drained from him, to walk to the terrace and look out longingly.

He hesitated.

In the scene, the character would be staring up at a night sky. In a play, the actor would be looking out over an audience hanging off their every word.

In reality, he was staring out at a world that was and always would be too big for him.

His soliloquy trailed off to bitter silence, and Roman backed up, shaking his head. He hadn’t a clue why he’d thought this would help him, rather than just rub his nose in what he couldn’t ever have.

Carefully, steps silent, he readjusted the bedding, removed a stray hair from the hairbrush, placed everything neat and right where he’d left it. He would leave no evidence of his presence, just like always.

When he turned around, he met the gaze of a human, standing only a few feet away bedecked in a bathrobe and fluffy unicorn slippers.

It was like Roman had been suddenly drenched by an icy downpour, his whole body going cold with shock. His muscles locked up, and even when the human took a step closer, he couldn’t seem to wrench himself free of the mental paralysis.

Talk about stage fright.

Normally a boon, his imagination was working against him now, spinning elaborate visions of what was to come. He’d been seen, and now not only would he be doomed to die by a human’s whims, but he’d also put every borrower in and around the building in danger. All borrowerkind, even, if this human was bad at keeping secrets.

“So, how are the proportions?” the human in question asked, leaning forward slightly with an excited glint in his eyes.

Roman blinked, befuddled.

“Are they to scale? You seem to be able to manipulate them easily, which bodes well, but I’m not sure the dining room chairs have short enough legs to make sitting at the table feasible…,” Logan trailed off, looking between Roman and the lower level of the model as though measuring him mentally. “Would you mind sitting in one?”

He reached out for something on the set, and Roman’s instincts seemed to kick back into high gear, sending him skittering back across the scaled-down room, grabbing his bag as he went. He remembered seeing a window cut into the backing of the room adjacent, there—!

Heart racing in his ears, he barely registered the human’s voice raised in alarm as he swung himself over the miniature window ledge. The landing jarred his bones, but he was still all in one piece, and that was good enough for him!

There were only moments before the human leaned around to see where he’d gone, so he wasted no time in sprinting to where the desk met the wall. Logan’s laptop charger trailed down in the small gap behind the desk, the closest thing he’d get to a rope down with his real hook on the other side of the table next to the human.

Logan seemed to be a bit slower than usual, since Roman managed to slide down out of sight before the human could move to even catch a glimpse of where he’d gone.

His hands stung slightly as he descended much faster than advisable, already trying to come up with his next step. All his entrances were higher up, but if he could get under nearby furniture, he could cut into the fabric and hide in the hollow underbelly until the coast was clear--!

The only warning he got was a barely audible click from above, and then his ‘rope’ gave out and he was in gut-churning freefall.

Roman fell for three fluttering heartbeats, just enough time to realize what was happening, and he hit the ground feet-first.

His right leg gave out with a dull crack, and the pain-- impossibly overwhelming-- reached him only an instant later. He bit down on his arm to muffle his cry, tears forming as the slightest shift of his leg sent ripples of agony through him.

Well. No longer in one piece, then.

He struggled to come up with a course of action as his head swam. His entire body had gone cold and sweaty, his vision darkening despite his best efforts to stay alert.

An enormous shadow fell over him, and his one last attempt to move was enough to finally make him succumb.

---

Logan allowed himself one very heartfelt swear, watching as the tiny person under his desk slumped over, limp and boneless.

This was not what he had expected when he’d shuffled into his living room to go make some celebratory coffee for managing to finish both the last touches on his latest set model and his ridiculously elaborate statistics midterm all in one night.

Perhaps he could have handled the situation better, but to be fair to him, upon spotting the miniature person, Logan had honestly assumed that he’d either started hallucinating, or had fallen asleep after all. He figured that if he was going to imagine such things, he might as well try to soothe his own concerns about any imperfections in the scaling.

The spike of fear and guilt that he felt hearing that tiny, muffled cry of pain meant that there was no way he was heading to bed anytime soon. He sent a few texts to Patton, informing him that he wouldn’t be able to bring the model to the theatre today and asking him to smooth over any ruffled feathers.

He was well aware that this was completely unprofessional-- he would surely be getting an interrogation from his friend later-- but for the moment, he needed to focus on more important matters.

From the injury he was sporting, the tiny person hadn’t landed on his back, so it would be alright to move him as long as he acted with care. Logan carefully slid a plastic folder under the stranger, muttering apologies when that tiny face crinkled up slightly even in unconsciousness. He lifted the folder up slowly and moved to the kitchen, where the first aid kit was stored under his sink.

From there, he quickly assessed the injuries he could see.

The leg was expected, and it seemed to be swelling rather severely. Unexpectedly, there seemed to be bleeding along the arm, and Logan had to retrieve his magnifying glass to see the injury in detail.

Upon closer inspection, the wound was in the shape of a tiny bite mark, indicating that the stranger had bitten down on himself to avoid screaming. Logan felt his heart sink a little further at the continued confirmation of the terror he’d seen in the stranger’s face before he fled. He’d really frightened the poor creature by moving so thoughtlessly.

He took a deep breath and pushed the feelings aside, flipping the lid of the first aid kit open. He could worry about potential reactions to his presence after he made sure the tiny stranger would at least wake up with less pain than before.

It was his fault this had happened, after all, and so he would do his utmost to fix all that he could.

#sanders sides #g/t #ts roman #ts logan #ttf #borrowers #writing #My writing #taking the fall #bthb #injury tw

[kylo-hen]

The Milk Man

A/N Hello I wrote this while I was in a Sackler mood yesterday at like 4 am and its the first actual smut I’ve written so bare with me! There is quite a bit of build up because for some reason I love establishing characters. It’s also vaguely  plus sized!reader but not strictly! Anyways, hope you enjoy & my inbox is always open for requests/feedback.

Adam Sackler x Reader

Summary: You run into an intense man in the dairy section in the dairy isle one Saturday Morning, and by Saturday Night he’s in your bed.

Warnings: SMUT! Spanking, name calling, Oral (F receiving), hair pulling, longer build up, and oat milk.

    Living in New York has its odd challenges here and there. There aren’t dishwashers in unit, rent is the price of one’s soul, people were colder, and grocery shopping was a drag. This Saturday morning was supposed to be relaxing, no work, no designs, no awkward booty calls from dudes I met in the club a moth ago looking for some action. It was all looking up until I looked in my fridge and remembered the Wednesday ritual was pushed back because of a meeting.

     With a groan I resigned myself to the reality that I would have to do some chores before I could allow myself the relaxing pamper day I deserved. Once I was out of my apartment, down a couple blocks, and at the grocery store I was relieved to know that on a Saturday morning it was pretty empty. Only a couple people that really just ignored each other as they passed in the cereal isle or the small produce section.

     It was an overall normal trip until I made it to the dairy section. There in front of the large selection of milk stood, what I could only describe as, a smoldering giant hunched over a comedically small phone.

    Usually in this kind of situation I would let them be, but he just happened to be in front of the only brand of Oat Milk I actually like, so it seemed like I would have to wait it out. This dude, however, was not one to mind social cues. After what felt like five minutes of awkwardly waiting off to the side for this dude to get the message and move on from the last bit of the store I needed before I could get on with my day, I decided he wouldn’t move without a nudge.

     “Ehm,” I cleared my throat softly, hoping that would alert him to my presence, “Excuse me.” The man barely grunted, acknowledging I was there but continuing to frustratedly channel into whatever he was doing on his phone. “Excuse me?” I said louder, hoping to get a civil response.

    “What the fuck do you want?” He finally snapped at me, actually turning to look at me. That was also the first time I was able to see him fully. The man was hot, I’ll give him that much. His tall frame matched by solid muscle, a tasteful amount of facial hair that suited the intense features, and now a scowl. A scowl that was presently pointed in my direction while I ogled at him. “What the fuck do you want?” he demanded again; this time much harsher. I took a step back, not really expecting this full-bodied giant to be yelling at me on a Saturday morning in the grocery.

    “Fuck,” I muttered to myself trying to dip into some of my confidence I gained in the years living here and finding it much harder to let his anger flow off my skin as it usually does. “I’m- fuck- I just need some of the oat milk and you-“ I rambled on but stopped at the sound of a deep sigh from the man in front of me. “I’m sorry, I’ll just-“ I abruptly turned, figuring the milk wasn’t even worth it anymore. The experience spoiled any hopes for a peaceful day, and the faster I made it back to my apartment the faster I could wallow in the new mood crashing over me.

     “Wait, shit!” I heard from behind me before I felt two large hands brace my shoulders. One thing the man didn’t expect was for my self defense lessons to kick in the second he grabbed me. I swung my elbow into his stomach, well because of his height it ended up being more of an elbow to the man’s balls. As I turned and backed away from him, I noticed in his hands he had the milk I was looking at earlier. Shit fuck fucking shit fuck! He was trying to give me the fucking milk!

    “Oh my god, I’m so sorry fuck, shit!” I moved to help him stand up, his face beet red a twisted up as he processed the pain, I unintentionally put him in.

    “Fuuuck,” he groaned out while he took some deep breathes, “I, fuck you’re a good shot… I just wanted to give you the fuckin’ milk.” He muttered out, still mostly bent over. Guilt washed over me in waves. I just attacked the poor guy trying to give me milk, even if he yelled at me earlier. Fuck, I can’t believe I just did that. My body heated up in shame, burning from the inside out, hoping that I could just melt within my own skin. The day only getting worse by the minute, I prayed that I would get to my apartment in peace so I wouldn’t cause any more damage.

    “I’m so fucking sorry,” I said again, not being able to emphasize it enough, as he began to recover more and more, and stand taller but not his full height, “Thank you for the milk.” I said still feeling the dark pungent shame in my chest. As he stood up more and more, he handed me the milk.

    “Don’t-“ he breathed sharply, still regaining his footing after being in pain, “Don’t apologize kid.” He muttered the name out at me and I wondered how old he was suddenly, or how young I looked trembling in the middle of the grocery store. “I was a dick.” He breathed and straightened fully, towering over me.

    “No, no, “ I denied his apology, shocked that he wasn’t pissed anymore, “I shouldn’t just go around attacking people, you didn’t deserve that.” I took the milk that I realized he was trying to give me still.

    “Nah, don’t sweat it kid,” again with the fucking nickname, oddly enough it lit a fire in me somewhere I hadn’t felt in years. “I should’ve known better than to just grab a lady.” He smiled at me, chuckling at his own joke and I smiled with him. His moods sending me for a bit of a loop, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle myself.

    “I still feel bad,” I admitted to him, he tilted his head curiously, “could I get you a cup of coffee or something?” I offered, hoping that he wouldn’t be too offended by the offer. Something about this man was drawing me in, his effect leaving me wanting more and more. What the hell is going on with me today?

   “Oh, I don’t drink coffee.” He stated, rejecting me bluntly and with that statement. The shame bubbled hire a fire burning in my cheeks whether he can see it or not I was embarrassed. Another time I put myself out there, thinking I read a situation one way, and it going very differently. My eyes suddenly very interested at the floor rather than the attractive man before me. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, “Not, I don’t drink coffee but maybe we could get lunch or some shit?” he offered with a cocky smile.

    My eyes snapped up to meet his, a warm feeling that for once wasn’t shame flooded my veins, I smiled at him in return, “Yeah we can get lunch and shit.” I replied easily, proud of myself for regaining some of that confidence I usually held. But then I remembered where we were, and that I had a cart full of groceries I needed to get home, it seemed he was coming down in the same way. “Actually…” I trailed off, not knowing his name.

    “Adam.” He answered and shook the milk carton playfully in lou of my hand, “Adam Sackler.” His crooked teeth poking out through his smile making my heart pound faster in my chest.

    “Adam,” I hummed, testing out the way his name felt on my lips. It felt like they were always meant to say his name. “Since you don’t drink coffee, which seems sac religious to me,” I allowed myself to flirt with him, testing the water, “And I’ve got a shit ton of groceries to put away, what about dinner tonight?” I asked.

     He laughed, unabashedly checking me out, my chest tightened hoping he liked what he saw, “Fuck yeah, dinner sounds great.” He replied confidently, boosting my confidence.

    “Alright Sackler, it’s a date.”

    After exchanging numbers, into his comically outdated flip phone, we decided to meet at the grocery store before dinner. I rushed home to clean my apartment, a girl can be hopeful, and get ready for any outcome of the date. It had been months since any person had given me any romantic indication, dating apps had long since run dry and I was tired of having to explain my size to people before they met me. Rarely after meeting someone, in real life, had they shown as much interest that Adam has shown me in the last hour. That meant I was hopeful and hope was a dangerous game for a girl like me.

    By the time it came to meet up with Adam I was a nervous wreck. My brain kept trying to convince me of the worst-case scenarios as I made the walk to meet up with him. All of those thoughts seemed to fade to black when I saw him. He was dressed casually, as I was as well, in a pair of dark wash jeans and a white t-shirt. He smiled when he saw me approaching, he perked up from where he was leaning and met me halfway.

    “Sorry if I’m late, there was a man trying to save the turtles outside my apartment and I’ve already out run him twice so he’s out for blood.” I joked when he was finally close enough to me. He laughed at my ice breaker, and I thanked all the powers at play that he had a sense of humor, he was shaping up to be quite a catch as long as his mood stayed up.

   “Don’t sweat it kid, I got here early anyways. Fuckin’ in my bones at this point with acting and shit.” He grumbled the last bit as he flailed his arms about. An actor? I’d never actually been on a date with an actor before, I mean with there being globs of them in the city for Broadway and whatnot. I always assumed they were stuck up about looks, and if anyone could be Adam was definitely a hot enough actor to be picky.

    “You’re an actor?” I asked coyly, hopefully digging deeper into the mysterious moody man.     “Yeah, also do some other shit.” He answered vaguely which only drew me in deeper to the mystery of this man. Who the fuck is he? And why the fuck is he so hot? “I know this diner just a couple blocks that way, does that sound good?” He asked considerately, and in that moment, I swear I could marry him.

    “Fuck yeah, I know exactly what you’re talking about, Lou’s is a fucking gem.” He responded with a grin, wide and unabashed, that made my heart flutter. But even when I made my way that direction, he kept his gaze on me, not in a creepy way but in a refreshing way. He acted like if he didn’t take all of me in now, that I would disappear forever, or that I would have been a figment of his mind. When I looked back at him a moment of sadness crossed his features, maybe it wasn’t sadness, maybe it was fear. He looked so young for just a split second, and I saw him, I really saw him.

    So instead of saying anything I simply reached out and offered my hand, and he grabbed it. With that we began walking back in the direction of my apartment on the way to the diner, and throughout the walk we talked about meaningless things like the mean lady that lives in his building to his morning run routine. I kept it light, trying to stay away from sticky topics before we sat down, but I also wanted to actually know who I was going out with.

    Once we were seated, the games began. Adam and I ordered before we got into a grittier subject matter but instead of just asking, Adam wanted to make it more fun. So, like middle school girls at a sleepover, Adam suggested we play truth or dare.

    “Truth.” I stated with no hesitation, what could he even dare me to do right now? It’s not like anything juicy could happen while we were in public.

    “Oh, come on, you scared of what I could dare you to do?” He taunted at me, still flashing his signature crooked grin.

     “I’m giving you an opportunity to ask me whatever you want Sackler, use it wisely.” I goaded him testing his waters, watching his reaction to see if he was game. His eyes trailed down to my shirt. Bingo, he’s interested.

    “Alright Kid, when was the last time you got laid?” He went straight out of the gate with a sexual question. The longer I spend with him the more apparent it becomes that Sackler might be a little sexually deviant, that thought only escalated the fire burning in my belly.

    “It’s been about six months since I got laid,” I started, “But about a year since I actually, let’s say, enjoyed getting laid.” I clarified, feeding into the building sexual tension.

    “Hmm, that’s a crime,” he responded, trailing his eyes over every part of me visible across the booth, “They should be punished for leaving a woman like you unsatisfied.” He murmured, leaning forward tracing a finger along one of my hands placed on the table. Every light touch, even if it looked innocent, felt dirty and drenched in the want I had for this man.

    “Truth or dare Sackler?” I angled my torso to him so he could see down my shirt, I could see his reaction, his eyes start to glaze over, his mouth open, ready. I had never been with a man so openly affected by me and at every move I took the opportunity to tease him.

     “Fuck, Truth.” He said, not really paying attention to what he responded with but more paying attention to the parts of myself I was revealing to him.

    “What do you think of me Adam?” I asked softly, some could even say sensually, as I retracted my hand and my body, ripping away the points of contact that he was latching to physically and visually. He suddenly retreated his stance as well, looking me in the eyes to see a knowing smile already dancing across my features.  He groaned playfully, knowing he played right into my hands.

      “Fuck, kid, what do I think of you?” He asked redundantly, “For starters I think you’re the biggest fucking tease and if we weren’t in public right now, I’d put you over my knee and punish you.” He began, speaking in a low threatening tone. Every word, every syllable, every fucking letter sent a shockwave to my core, shaking my resolve and tumbling every other instinct down. I let a soft delicate whimper, only loud enough for him to hear, pass my lips as I closed my eyes and leaned my head back to take in what else he was saying. “You’re a tease, but you’re also fuckin’ gorgeous.” I snapped my head open, not expecting a real genuine compliment from the sexual haze we were in.

    “What?” it slipped out of my lips before I could really do anything about it.

    “Kid,” he began, by putting his hand on top of mine and staring so far into my soul I felt like I was naked in front of him, “You’re so fucking beautiful, like I- I saw you this morning and fuck I think you might actually be perfect and fuck! Like even if you’re not, you’re better than that.” He said and I couldn’t remember the last time I had ever felt like this, maybe never. He was so different, and intense, but funny, and God I want to sleep with this man, but I also want to cook dinner with him and see how he likes his eggs, or what his favorite book is, and who hurt him. I want him, and he wants me.

    “Thank you,” I began, getting a bit shyer under the smoldering chestnut eyes, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me gorgeous before, or if they have, I can’t remember.” I explained, trying to brush it off as a joke, but he doubled down.

    “They must be blind kid, or stupid.” He chuckled to himself, “Probably fuckin’ both.” He smiled, and I smiled back, bursting at the seams, but before I could respond our waitress came with our food.

    The spell we were under before we got food was somewhat broken when we were eating, returning to the more casual atmosphere, talking about our jobs and whatnot. He was really interested in knowing more about my job which made me feel almost as special as before the food came, but I kept it to surface details for now. Adam had a lot of weird habits from what I could tell, he cursed like a sailor, and he got super intense then switched back to normal out of nowhere. Yet, despite all the odd facts this man drew me in every time he opened his mouth, he had me on the edge of my seat constantly. Throughout the meal I couldn’t help but wonder, what’s going to happen next?

    When we both finished our meals the tension from before began to seep back into the conversation in doses. By the time the waitress returned with the check it was pretty clear Adam was ready to get out of there, and I wasn’t much farther behind. While Adam went to fish for his wallet, I threw enough cash out on the table to cover both meals, not wanting to linger for change. Adam looked like he was going to protest, but I just offered my hand out to him.

    “I asked you out,” I explained, leading him out of the restaurant and back on the sidewalk. “Its only polite I pay since I invited you out.” I turned to him and realized he was much closer to me than expected. He took a step closer to me and his long shaggy hair began to cover his face.

    “I guess I’ll just get it next them then kid.” He offered with a smile and I looked away, feeling an excitement bubble through me for more. “We never did finish our game.” He said not teasing anymore, I looked at him and pondered for a moment before answering his unspoken question.

     “Dare.” I said confidently this time, leaving him to smirk down at me in pride. He puffed up his chest and moved even closer. He leaned in like he was going to kiss me but just before he allowed our lips to finally meet, he stopped.

    “I dare you to kiss me.” His gruff tone sending my nerves haywire, a chill running down my spin at the command. His eyes darker than I had seen them, only balanced by the smirk on his lips daring me, goading me to follow through. The final straw was the sensation of his hands settling heavily on my waist, keeping me steady and sure as I surged forward and planted my lips on his.

    From there he wasted no time gaining access to my mouth and invading each of my senses one by one.

    Touch; the feeling of his tongue languidly pushing against mine, fighting a war for dominance and winning without hesitation. His hands finding themselves roaming over every point of my body, and mine deeply nestled in his hair.

    Sight; the possibilities of what comes next floating by in my head in vivid detail. The sheer number of ways this encounter could finish, all unbelievably tempting.  

     Sound; the deep velvet groan from his dulcet tones when I tugged on his chestnut locks, the whimper that snuck out of my mouth when his hands made home on my backside.

    Smell; the dark woodsy pine notes of his cologne mixed the sweet vanilla of my perfume creating an intoxicating scent.

    Taste; nothing I’ve had in my life could compare to the taste of Adam on my tongue, the feeling of wholeness only grew. My wanting grew with it, wondering if Adam tastes good now, what other perverse acts would taste even better.

     Eventually the heated kiss broke, and the depths of Adam’s eyes told me everything I needed to know in that moment. “My apartment is just a block that way.” I spoke breathlessly, pointing behind us in the direction the night would take place. He threw his head back with a groan, a sight that sent shockwaves of anticipation through my body and to my center. He nodded his head furiously.

    “Fuck yeah kid, lets go.” He spoke, pulling me along with my hand to head in the direction of my apartment. By the time we made outside my apartment and pulled out my keys Adam sprung into action, pulling my back to meet his front allowing me to feel the full effect I’ve had on him throughout the night. His errection dug itself into the curve of my behind and suddenly I realized just what I would be dealing with for the night. Adam Sackler is fucking hung.

    His kisses trailed up my neck, his hips grinding into my body and the noises he was making were borderline pornographic. The task of opening my door was lost as I allowed myself to lean back into the pleasure, he was giving me. His hand trailed down my arm slowly as he sucked on a particular spot behind my ear that made my knee buckle in bliss. His hand wrapped around mine, that was still holding the keys, and raised it to the door.

    “If you don’t unlock that door now, I’ll fuck you in the hallway.” He threatened, no doubt in my mind he would follow through with the threat. I quickly refocused on getting my key in the door and getting this man inside.

     As soon as the door was shut, he had me pressed against it, mouth pushing against my own once again, but now his hand travelled under my shirt kneading my breasts in his large sturdy hands. I reached, clawing at his shirt to come off as he unclasped my bra from the back, which only succeeded in turning me on. Once his shirt was removed, he made quick work of mine, stopping only to marvel at the sight of my topless body. He stared for just a moment too long, doubt flooded my veins and my throat tightened at another failed encounter where someone didn’t like what they saw.

     Just as I resigned myself to my own fate, reaching down for my shirt, Adam took both of my wrists and pinned them above my head. Once again pushing me against the door and pinning me from any other means of movement.

    “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded with a dark grit in his voice I had not heard before, his fire like anger only lighting the fire of hope in my belly once more.

    “I thought,” I started and as soon as I began to speak, he ground his erection into my core, effectively beginning my decent into madness. “Fuck, Adam that feels good!” I cried out rather than explain myself.

    “Come on little girl,” He teased breathlessly into my ear, obviously enjoying the act as much as I did, “Explain yourself to me.” He spit out all that came out of my mouth in return was a needy whimper and shuttered breath. It set my body on fire, turned my bones to jelly as he shifted to hold my weight for me.

    “I- fuck- I thought you didn’t like it.” I said softly, simply as the pleasure built with every thrust of his hips against mine. My back arched as he slowed to a stop, my eyes shooting open to see him looking down at me with furrowed brows.

    “You thought I didn’t like your pretty little tits huh?” he looked down at me, and I nodded softly, shyly up at him and his eyes softened slightly. He made the move to prop me up against the wall and move his body down. He kissed his way from my jaw down to my chest, finally settling with both his hands caressing my breasts. “You have,” He punctuated it with a small suck on my chest leaving a hickey a few centimeters above the nipple, “The most,” He took his sweet time worshiping every square inch of my chest, “Glorious tits I’ve ever fucking seen.” Finishing it off with an intense attachment to my nipple that sent earthshattering shockwaves throughout my body from the first real contacted pleasure Adam had given me all night.

    “Please, baby girl,” he murmured against my tits as he moved further down my body, “Let me eat your sweet little pussy.” He spoke, the dirty message matched only by the lewd and carnal tone he spoke with. Before he could anywhere with my pants, I took his hands and began leading them to my bedroom, which wasn’t too far away.

    He followed like a lost puppy trailing its owner, looking at me with wide and hungry eyes, taking in every movement my body made. As soon as I laid back in the bed, he made quick work of my pants, pulling them off with my underwear in one swoop. I let him handle me however he wanted and he moved with swift expertise that had my core drenched by the time he was done.

     With his hands stabilizing my hips, keeping them pinned to the bed, he sat between my legs admiring the sight laid out before him. He smirked at my disheveled appearance, trying desperately to hold on to my sanity and he hasn’t even laid his hands on me. Suddenly his tongue was on me, taking one long stride of my core before focusing on my clit.

    “Fuck yes!” I shuttered out when he brushed his tongue in a zig-zag on my clit before detaching with a sadistic chuckle. He explored every part of me, places no man had ever considered now have me careening towards the pit of bliss at lightning speeds. He took his time prodding at my hole while swiping his nose at my clit and in that moment, I swore no one was better at this than Adam fucking Sackler. My hands twirled themselves into his hair tugging harshly, making him pause for his own pleasure. Only then did I notice his gyrations on the mattress himself, which sent my mind into an overdrive of pride and arousal.

     “Your pussy tastes so sweet for me baby girl.” He hummed smugly into my pussy, the vibrations bringing me that much closer to the edge. He looked up at me, watching me fall apart as he brought his hand to my entrance working in a finger, beginning to stretch me out for him. “Your pussy’s tight, that for me?” He spoke, knowing I was way too close to orgasm for me to respond with anything but whimpers of his name mixed with any expletive that comes to mind.

    “Adam,” I called out, tightening my hands in his hair, trying to signal him for more. “Please!” I cried out, his pace slowing to a teasing momentum before he added another finger without warning. My head tilted back, losing all sense but the sense he was feeding me through his ministrations. I was teetering a dangerous ledge and with every thrust of his fingers he brought me to the edge. He took one last thrust of his fingers hitting the deepest part of me, paired with his tongue swiping my clit and the damn burst within me.

    Euphoria was flooding my system; I was floating in orgasmic bliss surrounded by nothing by the feeling of Adam bringing me through my haze and the smell of sex mixed with his cologne. After what felt like a lifetime of bliss, I felt him begin to kiss his way back up my body, taking special care of my stomach, sucking hickeys along the way.

    “You’re so good at that.” I murmured, still coming down from my high. He chuckled into my neck before coming up to my face and planting a big kiss on my lips. I immediately responded, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and bringing him flush to my own body. I could taste myself on his lips, his facial hair still coated in a layer of my cum, which only added to the kiss. “Adam, I need you to fuck me.” I said as I broke the kiss. His eyes lighting up again like in the living room, he moved away from me to finally take off his pants.

    “Condom?” He asked as he stood in his boxers, outlining his prominent erection pulsating in need. I only shook my head, moving to the edge of the bed where he stood to palm him over his boxers.

    “I’m on the pill.” I whispered seductively in his ear, he nearly doubled over in pleasure once the statement registered in his brain. He wasted no time taking my hips and twisting me around so I was on all fours before him. A deep feeling of butterflies reverberated in my stomach as I arched back into the hands he planted on my ass. He let himself groan at the sight of me before him once again, this time he had his hand moving over his thick cock.

    He rubbed the head of his dick over my pussy before catching it at my hole and pushing forward. The sting of him stretching me was not lost on him as he braced himself around me, caging me into his dick. He hissed as I clenched around him, trying to accommodate the difference. “Fuck your pussy’s so fucking tight you’re gonna squeeze me out.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, waiting for my signal to go ahead. His dirty comment only helped relax me, sending me spiraling in euphoria.

    “Adam, I need you to move.” I whined out, desperate for the friction he was made to bring me. He pushed farther and farther in until he was buried at the hilt. Both of us shuddered out, he filled me to the brim, his body made for mine in ways I had never felt before. Suddenly he pulled back and slammed back in with a deliberate force, landing perfectly on my G-spot. I cried out his name, the only thing I could remember at this point.

    “Yeah, yeah that’s it,” He praised my squeals of pleasure, “Say my name you fucking whore.” He spit out making my pussy clench around him in absolute pleasure. The way his hips slammed against mine, the way his hands groped at the cheeks of my ass, mixed with the things coming out of his mouth sent me into another dimension. “You like that you little slut? You like when I call you dirty little names?” He prompted me, adding a harsh slap to my ass to punctuate his thrusts.

    “Yes!” I cried out, burying my head into the sheets, letting Adam have his way with me exactly how he wanted. “Yes, I love being your little slut! Fuck!” He landed another spank, jolting me forwards on his cock. He retaliated by taking charge with my hips once more, grunting out insults mixed with praise.

    “Are you gonna cum? You gonna cum on my fucking cock you whore?” He stopped his thrusts, teasing me and my climax fading. “If you want to cum on my cock, fuck yourself on it.” He demanded, his hands kneading and soothing the damage he caused my backside already. I began rocking back on his dick, creating a similar rhythm to before. The harsh slaps echoed around the room and the lewd situation escalated my frenzy. “That’s its little slut, you’re fucking yourself so well.” He lost himself in the pleasure of it all, meeting my thrusts halfway.

    “Adam,” I moaned out, feeling the same euphoric anticipation building in my gut, I escalated the force trying to push myself to the place of bliss. “Adam, I’m going to cum!” I announced feeling the cliffs edge building and building. His hands trailing up my back and grabbing a fist full of my hair and pulling me flush against his chest, changing the angle so he was pushing deeper inside me.

    “Cum for me little slut.” He commanded, another hand wrapping around me to rub my clit in time with his thrusts. The bubble built higher and higher until I felt myself release for the second time that night. His thrusts continued, faltering as my body spasmed in absolute satisfaction, his grunts of pleasure travelling into my ear as he chases his own high.

    As his hips begin to falter their rhythm, he pushed into me for one last time before he let go and painted my insides with the ropes of his cum, marking me from the inside out. He wrapped his arms around me, collapsing us both on the bed, his cock still inside me, beginning to soften as he spoons me from behind. Our highs collectively lower and he is left trailing small kisses on the back of my neck and shoulder.

     “Where have you been all my life?” I joked once the atmosphere was returning to normal. He chuckled out, squeezing me into his chest even if I didn’t necessarily fit, and shifted his hips away from mine for the first time slipping out of me.

     He moved to look at me properly before saying, “Brooklyn.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought, my inbox is always open!

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #fluff & smut #smut #slow-ish burn #The Milk Man #Girls HBO #adcu #reader insert

[introvertguide]

The Apartment (1960); AFI #80

The next film on the list that we reviewed was the one of the last black and white films to win best picture, The Apartment (1960). The film actually held the title of last B&W Best Picture winner for 50 years until The Artist came along in in 2011. Along with Best Picture, the film was nominated for 10 Oscars and won Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Art Direction, and Best Editing. The film also won Best Picture from the Golden Globes, the BAFTAs, the Director’s Guild Awards, and the Critic’s Circle Awards. Truly a great synthesis of acting, directing, cinematography, music, and story, this movie is one of the lesser known greatest films of all time. I have more to say about this film, but I want to go over the story in all of its excellence. But first...

SPOILER ALERT!!! THIS COMEDY HAS LEGITIMATE SURPRISES AND SUBJECT MATTER THAT WOULDN’T FLY TODAY!!! TRULY A GREAT FILM THAT NEEDS TO BE SEEN!!! I STRONGLY SUGGEST WATCHING IT INSTEAD OF JUST READING THE STORY LINE!!!

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An opening run of establishing shots with a voice over by the main character lets the audience know that he is a drone accountant at a giant firm with little chance to move up in the world. C.C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon) is a lonely office drudge at a national insurance corporation in New York City. He has lucked out and found a way to leverage his home in order to climb the corporate ladder. Baxter allows four company managers to take turns borrowing his Upper West Side apartment for their extramarital liaisons, which he manages with a detailed schedule. Baxter has not seen any movement, but he is constantly offered the promise of a promotion since he is a “team player.” 

One of the serious down sides of this ploy is that his apartment is in constant use and the bosses are making a mess and drinking all his liquor. C.C. has no place to go some nights so he stays and works late. Because C.C. is constantly going in and out and people can hear women in his apartment, he is starting to develop a different kind of reputation with the other tenants. While unable to enter his own apartment when it is in use, his neighbors assume that their neighbor is a playboy bringing home a different woman every night.

C.C. is able to get glowing performance reports from his four managers and he is able to submit them to the personnel director, Jeff D. Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray), in hope of a promotion. Sheldrake promises to promote him, but demands that he also receive use of the apartment for his own affairs, beginning that night. As compensation for such short notice, he gives Baxter two theater tickets to The Music Man. After work, C.C. asks Fran Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine), an elevator operator in the office building, to go to the musical with him. She agrees but goes first to meet with a "former fling," who turns out to be Sheldrake, and let him know there will be no more meetings. When Sheldrake dissuades her from breaking up with him and promising to divorce his wife for her, they go to the apartment as poor Baxter waits forlornly outside the theater.

Later, at the company's raucous Christmas party (there is dancing on the tables and the lamest strip tease of all time), Fran is told by Miss Olsen (Edie Adams), Sheldrake's secretary, that Sheldrake has also had affairs with her and other women employees. Later at Baxter’s apartment, Fran confronts Sheldrake with his lies. Sheldrake maintains that he genuinely loves her, but that he has no intention of splitting up with his wife. He then leaves to return to his suburban family as usual and Fran is so depressed that she finds sleeping pills in the apartment bathroom and attempts suicide.

Baxter learns through finding a dropped hand mirror that Fran is the woman Sheldrake has been taking to his apartment, so he goes to a bar and lets himself be picked up by a married woman. When they arrive at his apartment, he is shocked to find Fran in his bed, seemingly dead. He sends his pick-up away and enlists the help of his neighbor, Dr. Dreyfuss (Jack Krushen), to revive Fran without notifying the authorities. I should not laugh, but it is pretty funny that the doctor goes straight to slapping Fran in the face to wake her up. The actors did not hold back; he is slapping her in the face really hard, so much so that you can tell her cheeks are reddening even in black and white. Baxter makes Dreyfuss believe that he was the cause of the incident and, scolding his neighbor for his apparent philandering, Dreyfuss advises him to "be a mensch, a human being."

As Fran spends two days recuperating in the apartment, C.C. takes care of her, and a bond develops between them, especially after he confesses to having attempted suicide himself over unrequited feelings for a woman who now sends him a fruitcake every Christmas. While they play a game of gin rummy, Fran reveals that she has always suffered bad luck in her love life. As Baxter prepares a romantic dinner, one of the managers arrives with a woman. Although Baxter persuades them to leave, the manager recognizes Fran and informs his colleagues. Later confronted by Fran's brother-in-law, Karl Matuschka, who is looking for her, the managers direct Karl to the apartment out of jealousy. At the apartment, Karl's anger at Fran for her behavior is deflected by Baxter, who again takes responsibility. Karl punches C.C. (and interviews with Lemmon revealed that the punch did land), but when Fran kisses him for protecting her, he just smiles and says it "didn't hurt a bit."

Sheldrake learns that Miss Olsen told Fran about his affairs, so he makes the poor choice of firing the woman who knows of all his dealings, and she retaliates by meeting with Sheldrake's wife, who promptly throws her husband out. Sheldrake believes that this situation just makes it easier to pursue his affair with Fran. Having promoted C.C. to an even higher position, which also gives him a key to the executive washroom, Sheldrake expects Baxter to loan out his apartment yet again. Baxter gives him back the washroom key instead, proclaiming that he has decided to become a mensch, and quits the firm.

That night at a New Year's Eve party, Sheldrake indignantly tells Fran what happened. Realizing she is in love with Baxter, Fran abandons Sheldrake and runs to the apartment. At the door, she hears what sounds like a gunshot. Fearing that Baxter has attempted suicide again, she frantically pounds on the door. Baxter answers, holding a bottle of champagne whose cork he had just popped in celebration of his plan to start anew. As the two settle down to resume their gin rummy game, Fran tells C.C. that she is now free too. When he asks about Sheldrake, she replies, "We'll send him a fruitcake every Christmas." He declares his love for her, and she replies, "Shut up and deal."

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This film is one of the most praised movies of all time, but it is not one of the most generally well known. This is probably due to the subject matter, although It’s A Wonderful Life also deals with suicide and is one of the America’s most popular family films. The problem is most likely that extra marital affairs by big company management as a normal thing was highly frowned upon. With the whole #MeToo movement, it seems that this kind of philandering culture might very well have been a known problem for decades. A movie based around the premise that office managers need a nice place to have sex with secretaries and elevator girls would not have been acceptable under the Hays Code. This is also the second film on the AFI list where Fred MacMurray plays a bad guy before being the understanding patriarch on My Three Sons and the first person honored as a Disney Legend in 1987. Fun fact, MacMurray was an uncredited extra in a film called Girls Gone Wild in 1929.

Billy Wilder knew that this was going to be a divisive film due to content, but he also had the confidence that everything would work out following the massive success of his previous film, Some Like It Hot. Wilder had considered a film based on adultery back in the 1940s but was unable to get funding at the time due to the Hays Code. The film was also based on a real life Hollywood drama in which an agent was shot by a producer over an affair (in which a low level employee apartment was used) as well as a friend of a co-writer who returned home to a dead ex-girlfriend following a break-up. 

It is amazing to think that this film is described as a comedy. There are office politics in which mid-level managers use local celeb status to take advantage of their subordinates. There are half a dozen cheating husbands that string along their affairs. There are characters so hurt that they would rather die than deal with what is done with them. There are raging parties at work where everyone gets massively drunk and dance on the desks. Women are treated like objects that either need to be protected with violence or thrown away. And yet the film is legitimately fun with characters that are worth rooting for.

Some of the success rides on the fabulous acting of Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine and the witty dialogue written by I.A.L. Diamond. In fact, the dialogue and limited characters feels a lot like a stage play, which come to fruition in the form of Promises, Promises on Broadway by Burt Bacharach, Hal David, and Neil Simon. Dealing with real sets and locations, however, resulted in some colds and sickness since the actors were really out in the New York snow. Some other realism in the film came from both lead actors taking blows for the film: Shirley MacLaine got proper slapped by the doctor and Jack Lemmon was really punched by the brother-in-law.

A stand out aspect for me in this film which I talk up quite a bit is the cinematography. I have used many screen grabs from the film and used them as my avatar. I identify with the feeling of being used for something which made a mid manager look good while allowing them to do bad things. In fact, I am sure that everyone has felt like a Baxter at some point, and it is great to see him stand up for himself. Here are a couple of screen grabs (besides the top photo above) that I have used:

That lonely man in the middle of countless empty desks, that look of frustration when others are using your things to live a better life than you, and that time that love makes utility become fun and gadgets seem pretentious. It is very easy for me to get lost in how much I love this film. It has been far and away my favorite find from the AFI Top 100 between when I first saw the film in 2014 and now.

So, should the film be on the top 100 list? It has the awards and the history along with being a fantastic film. Of course it belongs on the list. Would I recommend it? Yes. This film is the type that makes people like me want to go through lists like this. I had never heard of the film in 2014 and it floored me how good it was. Each time I watch I appreciate it more, and the whole film project becomes well worth my time and effort. This film is so good, it affirms my life choices. I invite and implore you to check it out for yourself.

#the apartment #jack lemmon #shirley maclaine #best picture #black and white #classic hollywood #cinematography #introvert #introverts #award winner #classic film #60s #comedy #billy wilder #perfect movies

[saddiedotdk]

Tony Goldwyn admits that after seven seasons playing Scandal‘s Byronically romantic President Fitzgerald Grant, a one-episode guest stint on HBO’s horror series Lovecraft Country, as the menacing, aristocratic white supremacist/occultist Samuel Braithwhite, offered an opportunity to tap some less frequently summoned acting skills.

“It was very operatic, that character, so you don’t often get to do that on television, or in front of a camera,” Goldwyn recalls, noting a key scene in which he had to shout a mystic incantation in an invented dialect at the top of his lungs. “I had to learn, phonetically, this runic language, this whole long chunk of this spell that I was casting. And that was fun and interesting, and a muscle I had not flexed for some time.”

Goldwyn, who since Scandal wrapped has appeared in multiple Broadway productions and next headlines National Geographic’s miniseries The Hot Zone: Anthrax, joined THR to reflect on flexing those new muscles after Fitz, Lovecraft‘s unexpected immediacy, and his earliest TV acting guest stints on a string of now-classic series.

What kind of permission did the unusual genre-bending nature of the show give you as an actor?

Playing a to-the-manner-born white supremacist, who’s this sort of Gothic figure … you had to lean into the camp of it, the genre. But the way that guy’s mind works is representing something profoundly real and disturbing in our culture and human nature.

When you meet my character, he’s un-anesthetized, getting a piece of his liver cut out on a table in his lab, screaming bloody murder. And then Jonathan Majors enters the room, and [Braithwhite] says, “Oh, he’s darker than I [expected]” … That kind of a statement is shocking, and yet also camp, if you know what I’m saying. It’s larger than life, but tragically all too close to life, as we have seen this year, really. And that’s what’s so weird: Not that racism wasn’t a familiar concept in American culture, but we shot that in 2019, and the events of 2020 sort of exposed how close to the surface all that still is.

To see it come out at such a charged moment, immediately following the Black Lives Matter protests, when it achieved even greater degrees of relevance and immediacy, must have been a unique experience.

Slightly surreal, honestly. It was very disturbing. It’s very discomforting … When I read it, it felt dangerous and relevant and provocative, but also fun. When I saw it, it was still entertaining, but there was a much darker sensibility to the fun aspect of it, if you know what I mean. And honestly, for me personally, now that I’m reflecting on it … embodying a white supremacist was a very different experience in 2020 than it was in 2019. There was something where I could feel that I was at an arm’s length from it. Whereas now, there’s been a seismic shift, and it would be, frankly, much harder to do — which makes me feel a bit silly, because of course that’s my reality, and I think the reality for African Americans is not that different. People are like, “Yeah, wake up!” Which is what Misha [Green] was writing about, but the world has a very different lens on it now.

ELI JOSHUA ADE/HBO

After several seasons on a hit TV show in a regular role, what have you enjoyed about these briefer excursions? Fitz was such a complex character — he could be dark, he could be someone you rooted for — that the role doesn’t saddle you, the actor, with a lot of typecasting baggage.

I really loved playing Fitz, for the reasons you said … He was so complicated and had so many light and dark shades that made him just endlessly fun to play. And I’d never had the experience of living in a character for that long.

But that said, since Scandal ended, I’ve played five, six, seven different roles, all so different, from Samuel Braithwhite to the shows I did on Broadway … And the project I’m doing now for Nat Geo, The Hot Zone ­— the character I’m playing could not be more different from Fitz. It’s wonderful [after] going to work every day and playing the same character and literally wearing the same suit every day for seven years to just go to completely different places.

When you were starting out, you took the jobs that came your way, as actors do, and a lot of those were guest spots on future TV classics. What do you remember about those years? And what it was like to step onto a series as a young, up-and-coming actor?

First of all, I was just grateful to have a job! I mean, I still am, but when you’re starting out, just any work you can get is good work. And also, it was a way to learn about acting in front of a camera, because I started working in the theater, and the camera was very foreign to me.

I did a bunch of those guest star things in shows in the ’80s, from sitcoms to dramas and cop shows and whatever: Matlock and Designing Women and the pilot of Murphy Brown, and I did — oh God — a show called Hunter, do you remember that? And then a couple of things that had more meat. St. Elsewhere was actually where I got my SAG card … I did L.A. Law, too. I had a pretty good part in that.

I imagine this is true for people today still: It’s a rather difficult thing, because you’re coming onto a show, where everybody knows the show and everybody does this thing every day, and you’re kind of parachuting in to give your performance and play this character. And you don’t know anybody in it. It can be very challenging. And eventually, after you’re more experienced, you learn to relax, but that I found very difficult.

Interview edited for length and clarity.

This story first appeared in a June stand-alone issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.

#Tony Goldwyn

[ashintheairlikesnow]

We’ll Get You Out of Here

In Karen Renford Comes Home, you were introduced to Karen Renford’s own personal Box Boys - Dex, Sebastian, and Peter - and her foster son, Henry.

In this follow-up from Henry’s POV, Henry has a realization - and Sebastian and Peter do, too.

CW: Referenced violence and physical abuse, dehumanization/pet whump. Referenced/discussed whump of a minor/foster care whump (though none occurs directly)

Henry belongs to @spiffythespook and is used with input and approval. Also includes a cameo from @fairybean101‘s Tara.

By the time the timer in the kitchen went off and Sebastian popped in to tell him he could stop, Henry’s back ached from sitting with perfect posture at the piano bench. His throat hurt from singing, and he’d gone through at least four glasses of water even though he’d tried to keep it to sips.

He heard the soft ding! of the kitchen timer - the white one Sebastian had been allowed to pick out for himself one day at Williams Sonoma. He’d come back weighed down with bags, Ms. Renford smiling with pride at the wonderful choices Seb had made. He told them all that the saleswoman only hesitated for a moment before happily helping such a well-kept and polite pet, and Ms. Renford had let Seb pick the dinner menu for a week straight, she’d been so impressed with him.

Henry’s fingers fell to rest over his thighs, and he let out a breath, all at once. The last note he’d played still seemed to echo, faintly, in the air around him.

He hurt, but he was done.

“Time’s up, Henry,” Seb said brightly, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, standing in the doorway in a cream-colored sweater and jeans, wearing a dark blue full-sized apron. He was smiling, a flash of perfect teeth, the cowlick mostly tamed and his blond hair carefully combed and gelled into a style Ms. Renford would like.

Seb was always sparkling and smiling when Ms. Renford wasn’t home. Honestly, Henry kind of had to admit that all of them were. Peter talked all the time when she was at work, and even Dex’s silence seemed lighter without Ms. Renford there to inspect every move they made.

Henry slowly closed the cover over the piano keys, cracking the knuckles on each hand, feeling the tension in the tendons and bones. For a second, he just sat there. His back ached and his ass was numb and even his toes kind of hurt, today, but after six straight hours, it was hard to have the energy to do anything.

Piano practice wasn’t bad - he didn’t mind it, that or the singing - but he hadn’t sung with proper reverence for the material the last time Ms. Renford had a friend over. At least it had just been some work people and wasn’t her super creepy fucking friend they had to take a plane to see in the absolute middle-of-nowhere, but he’d had to promise to put in six hours today instead of the usual two to get out of any worse punishment.

Ms. Renford was nice to him - as nice as she ever was to anyone, as far as he could tell - but she had expectations, and he hadn’t met them.

Henry had gotten Ms. Renford’s real punishments, like the ones she gave the Box Boys, before - the last time at that stupid gala where that Vincent Shield actor and his pet lib activist girlfriend kept giving Henry weird looks all fucking night.

Just before he was supposed to perform, the girlfriend had grabbed him by the arm and whisper-hissed into his ear you know you’re next, right? and he’d brushed her off, but the thought had been in his head anyway, and he’d dropped the high note in Ms. Renford’s favorite song when he caught the girlfriend watching him.

He’d known exactly how Ms. Renford would punish him for that… and he was seventeen fucking years old, he didn’t want to have to deal with that again before he was eighteen and out, headed off to college, out on his own.

Henry had a good poker face, he always had, but he’d nearly begged her not to. The discipline they used for the pets was the worst and she almost never tried to use the same stuff on him. But… she hated when he begged, and she’d be really pissed if she knew he even thought all the cusswords, let alone said them out loud sometimes. Only to himself, but still.

He ran a hand back through the shock of bright red hair, letting it fall wherever it wanted - she wasn’t here to tell him part to the side, comb across.  He wasn’t wearing the clothes she usually picked for him, either, but a simple plain t-shirt and jeans.

She wasn’t here to notice, and he and the others were making the most of the freedom. She’d gotten some kind of phone call a week ago, and said she’d have to oversee the resolution of this particular problem personally.

Ever since then, she’d been working ten or even twelve hour days. Twice in the past week, Henry had woken up after she’d already left for the day and been in his room for the night before she ever came home. He was pretty sure that one night she just slept at work.

She wasn’t here to catch him thinking, again and again, about what the lady at the party had said.

You know you’re next, right?

Karen Renford had always been so kind to him (except, he thought a little bitterly, for disciplining him like he was a fucking pet when he missed notes or screwed up a song or mouthed off to her, which he definitely never did anymore) and he probably shouldn’t be so happy she was gone so much, but…

It felt better, when she wasn’t there.

The house felt warmer, the cold white walls heating up with Sebastian waving his knife around to gesture with while he told stories to Peter, who laughed and laughed when Ms. Renford wasn’t home.

Then there was Dex, who went about his business just the same and kept an eye on them all - especially Henry - but his shoulders seemed less tense and he let Sebastian make Peter vegan food and hang out in Henry’s room sometimes even though he wasn’t supposed to.

“I’m so glad to be done,” Henry said more to the piano than anything else. His voice was hoarse and he winced at the ache in his throat just to speak. Hopefully she would let him skip singing lessons this week, he’d just croak like a frog if he tried. “Six hours is so long.”

A soft clapping made him jump and he looked up to see Dex standing in a different doorway, the one to the hallway where the stairs were. The older man - only a few years younger than Ms. Renford - clapped a few more times, then signed briefly. Henry smiled, feeling a flush of something like pride. Dex almost never gave him compliments - and if he had anything like a father, it was Dex. “Thanks, Dex. Six hours was a long time, but you’ll… you’ll tell her I stayed the whole time, right?”

Dex nodded, signed one more thing, and gave a dismissive wave before moving back down the hall. Henry’s flush of pride, though, lingered.

Dex had told him he sounded excellent today, and that was even more rare than a real smile from Ms. Renford. If he was honest, he’d started caring more about what the Boys in the house thought than her a long time ago. So far, he was pretty sure she hadn’t noticed. And Dex had gotten nicer and nicer to him as he got closer to his birthday.

He stood, hearing his back crack like an old man’s, stretching arms over his head and rolling his head on his sore neck, rubbing at his lower back, trying to pull himself together.

When he wandered into the kitchen, Seb gave him some hot tea with lemon and honey to soothe his overworked throat, told him they’d have soup tonight to help it rest a little more, and Henry thought, this is a fucked-up way to build a family, but I guess that’s what she did.

Just… not a family for herself. Kind of a family for me, though.

Henry had a brother out there somewhere, Trent - he hadn’t seen Trent since he was still a little kid, and he didn’t want to see him. But… it was still nice to have some people he could depend on.

He wondered, when he went to college, if she’d let them write to him. Sebastian and Dex could definitely still read, they had work that meant they had to be able to read. Peter supposedly couldn’t, but Henry had seen him pull books off Ms. Renford’s bookshelves when he thought no one was looking. He never saw Peter reading them, but they disappeared and reappeared and he was sure that, somehow, somewhere, Peter was reading.

He sat at the table sipping his tea and watching Sebastian work, pulling a large white ceramic bowl with a damp towel laid over the top out from a specially-made cupboard. Three hours ago, he’d put a ball of dough in there the size of Henry’s head, give or take. Now, he laid onto a floured countertop something nearly triple the size, breaking it into three separate smaller balls of dough, sleeves rolled up and blue apron on so he could start to knead.

Seb was humming to himself, and after a moment Henry realized he was humming the song Henry had performed at Ms. Renford’s party, the gala thing where Vincent Shield’s girlfriend wouldn’t leave him alone.

You know you’re next, right?

The intensity in her eyes, grabbing onto his arm. Vincent Shield at her elbow, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention. Everyone knew Vincent Shield and what’s-her-face bothered everyone about Whumpees-R-Us, so he’d kind of expected they’d bother him, too.

A good way to get under Ms. Renford’s skin, to mess with her foster son.

But ever since, he hadn’t been able to get the look on her face out of his head. She’d sounded so serious, so worried for him - and nobody ever worried about Henry.

He had a pretty awesome life - Ms. Renford took great care of him, her Boys took even better care of him. He got to study the things he loved most, he knew how to play piano and sing and all the stuff Ms. Renford wanted him to learn. She took him with her to museums and plays, to the opera (only once, he fell asleep and she’d been livid about that), to see important musicals and Broadway shows when they made it to town.

He kept thinking about her voice.

You’re know you’re next.

Peter wandered in from outside, wiping at his forehead, finished with the landscaping work he’d been doing all day while Henry was practicing. He was sweaty, his white shirt stuck to his skin, blue jeans smeared with dirt at the knees. Ms. Renford would have made him strip in the mudroom before she’d let him in, made him walk naked through the house to the shower and to change.

Seb only raised an eyebrow. “Hard work out there today?”

“Hmmmm, transplanted some seedlings, did a lot of weeding. I’m going to drink some water before I get cleaned up.” He glanced over at Henry, shot him a smile. “I could hear you through the window, Henry, you sounded really good today.”

“Thanks. Dex said so, too.”

Seb and Peter glanced at each other, some wordless communication between them that Henry didn’t quite understand. Whatever it was, both of their smiles faltered, just slightly, and he wondered why. Getting praise from Dex was a good thing… wasn’t it?

“Hey, can I… can I ask you guys something? Just between, um, us three?”

Sebastian and Peter looked at each other again, and then Peter nodded and moved with quick efficiency throughout the first floor rooms. When he circled back, he spoke to Seb first. “He’s in the second-floor office. I can hear him playing some Chopin.”

Ugh, Chopin. Henry hated Chopin.

“We’ve got a few minutes, Henry,” Sebastian said. His voice was light and casual, a little airy, entirely too careful. “What do you need?”

“Remember Ms. Renford’s party? A few weeks ago? The really big one with all the celebrities at it?” Sebastian nodded. Peter moved over and dropped into the seat next to his, smelling like dirt and sunlight and a little bit of his sweat.

Henry never got sweaty unless he was doing the fitness stuff Ms Renford asked him to do a couple times a week - and he thought sweat was pretty gross - but he didn’t mind it so much on Peter.

“We remember,” Peter said, a little encouragingly. He reached over and took Henry’s mug, taking a sip of the tea himself while Henry tried to work up enough irritation to glare at him and failed. “We got to go, too.”

“It was really fun,” Seb said, grinning. “I spoke to a few other pets, Madam was very kind to give us leave to speak. I brought home at least three new recipes.”

“Yeah, remember the one we had to go to and stay silent all night?” Peter rolled his eyes, and Sebastian tensed, then relaxed as it settled in that no one was here to catch him at it. “That was the longest three hours I’ve ever lived through.”

“Right,” Henry cut in. His heart was beating harder, although he couldn’t have said why, exactly. The pet lib people were ridiculous - mostly college kids and celebrities leaping on a trend, Ms. Renford always said. Just a fad, and they’d flare out. But there had been pictures she brought home of them, the lib people demonstrating, with a face here or there in the crowd circled.

It bothered him a lot once he realized the faces circled were all, every single one of them, really… pretty.

He’d seen one, a guy with really intense dark eyes, circled and X’d out, once. That was a long time ago but he still thought about it, what that X might have meant. He’d never seen another photograph like that, but it still… bothered him.

“Look, um… when I was there, this girl-... this woman, sorry, don’t tell Ms. Renford I said she was a girl, she hates when I do that… anyway, she told me… she said something to me, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“What did she say?” Peter asked, leaning his head on one hand, turned in his seat to watch Henry’s face.

“She said… ‘you know you’re next, right?’ What do you think she meant by that?”

The kitchen went suddenly silent. The sound of Sebastian’s movements with the bread dough stopped, he and Peter both froze, staring at Henry with identical expressions of dread.

Henry’s worst worries were confirmed when Peter’s eyes dropped to focus on his neck.

Henry was the only person in the house other than Ms. Renford who did not wear a collar.

“Henry…” Sebastian carefully started kneading the bread dough again, eyes moving to focus on his work. “What, um… what do you think happens when you turn eighteen?”

“I go to college, move out, go get a math and statistics degree,” Henry said simply. “That’s what I’ve done all my studying for. I’ll still do some performances for Ms. Renford, but…” His stomach dropped, as it sunk in what Seb was really asking him. “Wait.”

Peter, next to him, just nodded, slowly, a look of abject sympathy and compassion on his face. “Yes.”

“No. No… No, wait. Wait. I’m not… I’m not going to…” Henry’s pulse pounded in his ears and he felt a sudden sick lurch in his stomach, leaning over the table and swallowing back the bile that threatened to rise. “No. No, I’m not, I won’t be. I won’t sign it, she can’t make anyone sign it, right?”

Peter put a hand against his back, rubbing in slow circles, warm against his skin through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. “She can,” Peter said softly. “She can make anyone do anything.”

Henry felt himself gasping in shallow breaths, the spin of the room around him as the knowledge sunk in. Karen Renford’s house was surrounded by high walls - for privacy, she always claimed, but Henry now saw them as walls that could not be climbed to escape. He had spent years, half his life, taking piano lessons and voice lessons… entertaining her friends, attending her parties, her-

“I’m the next Box Boy,” Henry whispered, terrified, fingers digging into his jeans, twisting in the thick, heavy fabric. “I’m the next one of you, aren’t I? That’s what the pet lib lady meant? That’s why she tried to give me Vincent Shield’s phone number? Be, b-because, because when I turn eighteen-”

All Box Boys are of course of full legal and consenting age when they sign their contracts, Karen Renford’s voice said warmly in all the advertisements. Henry had heard all the reassurances so many times in his life that they ran together, meant nothing.

“I’m sorry, Henry,” Peter whispered. The tag on his collar, with his name written on it and his Box Boy number on the back, clinked inside its little ring. “I’m so sorry.”

Peter leaned over until his forehead touched the side of Henry’s head. Henry hated being touched, he hated it, but right now having someone close felt better than pushing them away.

He would turn eighteen in less than three months.

He was next.

And he’d pushed Vincent Shield’s hand away when he’d tried to give him his number.

“Wh-what do I do?” He whispered, and swallowed hard against the fear that threatened to break out. “What… what-”

“Don’t let her know you’ve figured it out,” Peter said, softly. “She’ll do it early if she thinks you’ll try… anything.”

“But I’m, I’m not eighteen yet-”

“She can still do it,” Peter said, and he didn’t move away, and Henry didn’t push him. “I wasn’t eighteen, either, I don’t think.”

Seb cleared his throat and Henry and Peter pulled apart long enough to look at him. “Yeah. Just… just keep it between us, for now. Don’t even tell Dex, he’ll-” Seb’s voice caught, and he punched hard into the bread dough. “He’ll tell her. Even if he doesn’t want to, he will. Just...  let me think, for a second.”

Henry wondered, suddenly, what their lives had all been like before they had become Box Boys. He’d never thought it before, not even once, except in passing - but suddenly Henry wanted desperately to know what whole worlds of experience they had been robbed of.

Ms. Renford wouldn’t have spent nine years paying for piano and singing lessons and private tutors just to yank it all away from him, would she? She wouldn’t take his memories away, after all the… Henry’s face twisted in ugly realization of how she would think about it - after all the investment she’d made in him?

They sat there in silence, the bright day outside seemingly suddenly so much darker, when Sebastian stopped and looked out the window, gnawing on his lower lip. “Peter.”

“Yeah?”

“Madam tracks all the… the groups of people who would try to help Henry. If we could get ahold of a number, maybe…”

“How? Neither of us can use a computer. You know Dex would… wouldn’t ever.”

Peter and Sebastian went silent, and then both of them slowly turned to look at Henry. He knew what they were going to say before they ever spoke.

“Henry…” Sebastian swallowed, and Henry looked up at the naked fear on the handsome face and was suddenly so grateful for the men he had spent most of his life here largely ignoring, who were now suddenly giving him a thin shining string of hope to hang onto. “Can you ask to shadow Madam to her work? See if you could get into her records. You don’t have anything to-... to stop you, yet.”

He means a shock collar, Henry thought, remembering the times she’d put one on Peter after infractions, made him wear it for days on end. Henry hadn’t thought before but… would he have to wear one of those?

The reality of what was about to happen to him had begun to sunk in, and Henry’s hands began to shake. “Wh-what would I look for?” Henry’s voice wavered, just a little, but he steeled himself and tried to find strength.

“We’ll practice how you ask,” Sebastian said, voice slightly soothing. “We’ll work on it, Henry. The three of us. If she doesn’t know you know, she’ll let it go until your birthday. You have a few months. We can… we can figure this out.”

“Seb, if she finds out what we’re doing, we’ll be refurbished,” Peter whispered. On the last word in the sentence, his voice shook heavily, an old terror. Henry had never heard them - either of them - say the word before.

Seb looked away, teeth ground together, hands resting on the bread dough in front of him, flour dusted across his apron and marking a stripe across his cheek. “Does that mean you don’t want to?”

“No, I do, just… I’ll miss you, if I get refurbished.”

Sebastian hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll miss you too, Peter. But-”

“No, you’re right.” Peter turned back to Henry. There was an expression of new intensity in his face, and Henry looked at the sheen of sweat drying on his forehead, across his cheekbones, and thought Peter looked like he’d come back from running a race and was about to start a new one. “Here’s what we’ll do. You’ll get into her office, into her records or, or maybe a book of phone numbers in her desk.”

“Why?” Henry blinked - he’d been in her office before, it was just like every other office on earth as far as he could tell.

“Because Madam will know exactly who can help you. And I guarantee she’ll have addresses for public fronts, public numbers, names… she’ll have everything. We’ll find out, and we’ll call them, and we’ll… we’ll get you out of here.”

Henry glanced back and forth between them. “What about you two?”

Sebastian and Peter shared one more long, lingering look. Then they both turned back to him, all at once, a nearly perfectly echoed motion.

Peter laid a hand over his on the table.

“Henry,” He said softly, urgently. “We’ll get you out of here.”

#whump #box boy #foster care whump #tw: character is a minor #minor is not whumped #but just in case #box boy universe #spiffythespook #henry: better off #karen renford #captivity #distant whumper #comforting caretaker #caretakers to the rescue #this just wanted to be written #I saved the ending back to surprise spiffy with #sssshhhh #let's see how spiffy feels #pet whump #dehumanization #conditioning #brainwashed whumpees

[outspokens-ar]

new  york’s  very  own devin  bahar was  spotted  on  broadway  street  in  louis  vuitton  ankle  boots.  your  resemblance  to  bella  hadid  is  unreal.  according  to  tmz,  you  just  had  your twenty-third birthday  bash.  while  living  in  nyc,  you’ve  been  labeled  as  being  a  workaholic,  but  also  loyal.  i  guess  being  a  libra  explains  that.  three  things  that  would  paint  a  better  picture  of  you  would  be  messy  silk  sheets,  red  wine,  and staying  in  on  a  saturday  night.  (  female  &  she/her  )  +  (  katie,  21,  she/her,  est  )

I’m incredibly excited for this to be back so, hello, hello, I’m Katie and here’s a long ramble about my bby bean Devin !

BACKGROUND ;

Devin I. Bahar was born to Isabella Corine Bahar, an ex-model who retired when she got married, becoming far more attracted to the ‘rich housewife, bow down to me’ aesthetic than continuing to work, and Damian Ethan Bahar, a lawyer coming from a long line of family lawyers that were known for working important, high-profile cases.

The relationship she holds with her mother is strained due to the woman’s materialistic nature and her goal of marrying off her daughter for as much money as possible. Her eyes are always on a far bigger and shinier prize, no matter how good her life already is.

Her relationship with her father, miraculously, is healthier than the one she has with her mother, simply because she has absolutely no relationship with the male. He took off when she was younger, cutting off all contact with his daughter without a second thought and he hadn’t bothered to make any effort to try and have a relationship with her.

In fact, when she had attempted to start some form of a relationship with him after she turned eighteen, he completely rejected her and wanted nothing to do with her and it ripped her apart far more than she was willing to admit to herself or anyone else.

Even now, she isn’t sure if the complete cut in contact is due to her mother or if it was simply because she didn’t live up to his expectations, didn’t deserve his love. Either way, she has attempted to move on from it after the rejection, even if she still has that small hole in her heart over it.

Due to how strained her relationship is with her mother, she moved out of the household the day she turned eighteen, having managed to save up enough money to support herself, wanting to get away from her as soon as possible. However, the woman is still her mother and she does still attempt to have some form of a relationship with her, even if it sends her into a horrible mindset whenever she has a conversation with the woman.

CAREER ;

She first began modeling at the age of 16 for a commercial project. She also starred in the "Swan Sittings" by Lesa Amoore, alongside actor Ben Barnes, before appearing in "Smoking Hot" by Holly Copeland. She also modeled for Hanna Hayes' F/W 2013 collection, alongside various other commercial projects, including campaign work for Chrome Hearts during 2013 and 2014.

She was then signed to IMG Models in 2014 and her career started shooting off from there.

She never actually planned to become a model, she actually wanted to be a photographer when she was younger and planned to go to school for it. When it came to the point where her focus turned towards college, she ended up heading towards visual arts, fashion design, and graphic design. Out of that, she discovered her passion for clothing and that’s what began her journey of designing clothes, a project she started along with her modelling career.

Since the start of her career, she has won over a dozen different awards that range over her multiple different career-interests. Managing to make a name for herself as a model and fashion designer.

As much as she enjoys photography, she puts most of her focus onto modelling and continuing to add to her own clothing line full-time. This leaves photography for her spare time as more of a hobby, however, she does step in to help other high-profile photographers from time-to-time.

PERSONALITY ;

She identifies as pansexual and has always been very open to sharing and talking about her sexuality.

Has always put her foot forward to support charities, organizations, and projects that support the entire LGBTQ community. Along with making sure to put her focus into other charities and organizations, she’s always been the type of person to ‘give back’ and to put her support into the things she believes in.

Devin suffers from intense depression and anxiety. For the most part, you would never know, she does well but, every once in a while she goes into a deep rut. She won’t talk to anyone, doesn’t want anyone around, generally entirely depressing and doesn’t want to bring other people down when it comes to it. It takes a lot of trust and a special type of friendship for her to allow you to be around during that time considering, most of the time, she’ll go completely off the grid the entire time. However, at the same time, she openly talks about her battle with depression and anxiety. She doesn’t ever want anyone to feel alone and she tries to involve herself with as many campaigns and projects that involve supporting those with mental illness as possible.

Along with this, she also has this back and forth with affection. She either hates being touched or gravitates towards it, it really depends on her mental state at the time and the general relationship she has with the other person involved. It can be difficult, one day she’ll be ready to give you a bear hug and the next day, she’ll shake if you try to shake her hand.

On a more positive note, she tries to be as positive as she can, to a reasonable extent. She never wants to take life far too seriously but, obviously, doesn’t want to take it for granted either. She’s the type of person you go to if you want clear-headed advice but you don’t want to be talked down to at the same time. Or if you want ridiculous jokes while also getting some kind of pep-talk.

Really the mom-friend but probably won’t ever admit to being the mom friend.

EXTRA INFORMATION LINKS ;

blog’s full navigation;

you can find links to just about everything here.

full about page;

if you want statistics, a more in-depth background, extra facts, and some other things, you can find a bunch of stuff here.

spotify playlist;

a mess but, ay’ check it out.

pinterest board;

a highkey mess but, ay’ check it out too.

connections page;

my page with connection ideas, some are specific but most are really used as templates for plotting. i’ll also update this with any taken-current connections.

wanted connections tag & side blog;

i’m also terrible with coming up ideas so, I have a sideblog to reblog things for wanted connections ( the top link will lead to the tag ), but it also has a tag for extra muse posts if you’re interested.

This is officially too long for an intro so, I’m gonna’ end it there, but if there’s anything else you’d like to know about my bby bean that wasn’t on here or on any of her other pages, absolutely hit me up because I can ramble for hours tbh. And if you’d like to plot, 100% slide into my dms and we can figure something out, or if we had a plot before the revamp and you want to keep it — let me know and we can keep rolling with it ! Also, feel free to hit me up here or on d*scord @ katie#7666 for plotting and such ! 

#wealthyhq:intro #as always; i make no promises any of this makes sense

[meandmypagancrew]

The Comeback Kid

Hi, guys! It’s been a hot second, hasn’t it? Well, I am happy to announce that I have 47 days of content coming at you all! I do have two smaller announcements as well-

1. It has been brought to my attention that when you include a link in a post, it doesn’t make it to the tags. Since I make a lot of posts using non-theatre songs and I’ve always linked to that song in the post, that’s distressing. Moving forward, I will put a link to the song in the source, and then in the description itself not just put a quote but also put the name of the song and who it’s by!

2. My next challenge! @stephanietorns has been ever so gracious as to allow me to take her ask meme and modify it a bit and use it for a challenge! My list is as follows:

guilty pleasure musical

favorite musical that’s over-hyped

favorite “iconic” musical theatre song

favorite song about a city

favorite song with a character’s name in the title

favorite secondary character song

favorite cut song from a musical

favorite song that’s completely unnecessary to the show’s plot

song that’s in a stage production but not the cast album that you WISH was on the cast album

favorite broadway leading lady

favorite broadway leading man

your first broadway crush

pop star on broadway whose performance you really liked

broadway actor you’re proud of

broadway actor who deserves more recognition

biggest “dream” role (a part you’ll probably never play because of gender, age, voice part, race, show rights, etc)

two contrasting styles/genres you love

weirdest/niche musical you really like

unsettling/dark musical you really like

show you really like that’s targeted at a kids audience

show that shouldn’t have been revived

show that shouldn’t have closed

show you heard about and thought “they made that into a musical?!”

favorite musical that integrates another language

show that’s not your favorite but you feel deserves an honorable mention

favorite clever broadway rhyme

Sondheim or Andrew Lloyd Weber?

Jason Robert Brown or William Finn?

Rodgers and Hammerstein or Leonard Bernstein?

Alan Menken or Jeanine Tesori?

show or actor that was robbed of a tony

two shows that are essentially the same

show where you’re way more impressed by the ensemble than the leads

musical movie you enjoy

musical movie you hate

favorite broadway trope

you hate _____ [trope/characteristic/plot point], but ______ [show] is the exception

show you thought was great, but the ending changed your mind

show you thought was mediocre, but the ending changed your mind

show you know the most random trivia about (and include a fun fact!)

show whose cast recording you know, but don’t know anything about the plot

show you keep meaning to listen to but haven’t gotten around to it

show you say you hate but always sing along with

favorite broadway.com vlog series

favorite side by side by susan blackwell guest star/episode

show you never would have gotten into if your favorite performer wasn’t in it

favorite show based on real events

As per usual, feel free to follow along on your own, please just tag me so I can see! This challenge will be tagged stc on my blog!

#pay no attention to the blogger behind the curtain #the end #your friend #your best friend #your blogger #i've been out of the loop for awhile #i'm excited to get back in the game #making these sets really do just make me so happy

[ayashiki-i-i]

Last Friday, I had the absolute joy and privilege to see Be More Chill in London!

(Yes, last Friday, this has been sitting in my drafts for over a week because I couldn’t figure out how to appropriately convey my delight with this show, and also yes, joy and privilege, call me dramatic but I swear to god nothing on this Earth makes me appreciate my life quite as live theatre.)

I have loved this show for a very long time. Not quite since its first Two Rivers Theatre run, but very early on from when it caught the internet’s attention. I was at the start of what was to become a viral sensation, and I was with the show, rooting for it, hoping for it, ever since. I feel like I walked the journey from crossing million hits on Spotify to the Broadway alongside the cast and creators. I felt immensely happy and proud for these people I never met when they announced their off-Broadway return, and I honest to god cried the day they opened on Broadway. Needless to say, I was overjoyed, literally jumping with happiness, when they announced they will stage a production on West End. Or technically off-West End? I’m still very confused how The Other Palace is not West End and Victoria Palace literally around the corner is West End... Anyway. I have not walked into that theatre on Valentine’s Day with low expectations.

And my Mount Everest high expectations were far, far exceeded and shot somewhere into the stratosphere.

I really can’t with words describe how much I loved this show. Joes Iconis and Tracz managed to hit some very special spot with this musical. It’s truly hard to describe, but this show just makes you happy. It makes you involved and interested. And I gotta tell you, I think we hit the press night, because there was a bunch of people (very respectfully) scribbling on their pads and iPads during the show, so this wasn’t an audience primed and geared for this type of musical. And that’s not even counting all the parents chaperoning their teenagers. And I can guarantee you everyone had a great time. During the intermission I went to get a drink and witnessed several conversations between aforementioned parents that all pretty much amounted to “wow, this is actually good!” It’s honestly such a treat to be in an audience that’s genuinely enjoying themselves.

This show is funny, and heartfelt, and charming. So charming. It has somehow a vibe of a really well done high school production, which could maybe sound like a criticism but i swear it isn’t!

I haven’t seen much of the previous productions, except few clips from the Two Rivers bootleg slime tutorial, but I really tried not to watch too much, hoping against hope there will be a revival one day (I try not to watch shows I have a chance of seeing one day. I’m fortunate to have the chance of having the full experience live so I try not to ruin it for myself lol). I gobbled up all the official promo clips and videos from the NYC revival, being super unlucky and managing to plan my New York trip in that small window when BMC just closed Off-Broadway and before it got on Broadway. I haven’t even listened to the Broadway recording, because by the time it came out I knew they’ll be staging a production over here. So i went in quite blind. With all that previous ado, this is how it was:

The book is so good. So so good. Many times when I fall in love with an album, the actual musical doesn’t hold up because the book doesn’t compare (hi, Dear Evan Hansen). But BMC is as engaging and fun between the songs as during them. Tbh I don’t love the changes to the songs they made, but I don’t really hate them either... Now having listened to the Broadway recording they reverted somewhat back to the original album on West End and I’m happy they did, but still. Especially Pitiful Children did not deserve the cuts. But I mean its still mostly the same album and it’s brilliant and fun, and ok, Looser, Geek or Whatever is a bop.

(Although I always kinda liked that Jeremy didn’t have a typical big “hero song” because he keeps mentioning how he isn’t a hero and it was kinda ironic that his own show refused him the hero treatment, but the song is solid.)

This cast is EVERYTHING. I’m sorry all previous casts, I love you and I respect you but i really think the British cast is (so far) the peak? Obviously as I said I don’t have the full picture to compare, but honestly these guys are all so good and I can’t imagine anyone else in these roles, they set the bar so high. Yes, even Michael. Omg I’m so sorry George Salazar! This role is his in a very special way, and I feel blasphemous saying this! But that’s what makes Blake Patrick Anderson so special, because I didn’t think I will ever be able to accept another Micheal than George Salazar. But from the first moment Anderson appears on stage, you don’t think of George Salazar. This right here is a Micheal and that’s it. I think he’s slightly less... Manic, than Salazar, and more caring, but also more stubborn, and nerdy. My friend said after the first act the character’s problem is that he’s a bit too likeable and it’s almost unbelievable he would be a social outcast and she was right. The dude is so damn likeable! So charming, so positive. And then Micheal in the Bathroom hits and omg does it hit. Also Blake Patrick Anderson has a really long name is very pretty. A+ snack. I’m in love. Scott Folan is, uh, I don’t really love him vocally... Ok I liked him until Loser Geek of Whatever. I don’t know, maybe it wasn’t his day. Or maybe that song is just written for Will Roland and no one will ever measure up? Tbh I haven’t seen Roland sing it live so who knows, maybe it is one of those songs that’s hard to perform without yelling a bit. Praying circle for the West End cast album? However Scott Folan’s acting is a masterclass. He’s so awkward in the first act, so sad, but also sweet. Actually I said i didn’t love his singing but when his voice cracks all over in his first few songs it’s superb and also his “Christiiine~” is really beautiful and lovely, so, dunno *shrugs*. And then in the second half he totally sells his confidence and assholer-y and like... They seem like two different jeremys, the squipped and un-squipped one. But ultimately he just gives such good-kid vibes. He seems like the perfect midpoint between Will Connolly’s shy Bambi and Roland’s geeky recluse. This Christine is absolutely feral. Like, you have no idea. Some people commented on the video of I Love Play Rehersal from the rehearsals that this Christine is not chaotic enough, so I’m seriously worried how chaotic Stephenie Hsu was? :D In any case Miracle Chance I thought was perfect, the ideal mixture of quirky but relatable, sweet but strong. Also she is hilarious. I’m pretty sure she got the most laugh out of the audience, not just because the actress’s absolutely perfect comedic timing but also that role is so well written. Like you really can’t get the full idea of this character until you watch the show, you know? It’s very layered, but each layer is easy to get so she makes a really fun character to watch. The Squip is hot. Like so hot. And his costumes are wonderful. And I know I’m not the only one who didn’t love Jason Tam’s accent as Squip and like... I think I know what he was going for but it just doesn’t work for me. This Squip is a lot more like Eric William Morris, just more hot. Oh yeah I mean the dude is fantastic actor too, and his voice is something impressive, but mostly I was just thinking “hot” whenever he was on stage :D James Hameed’s Rich is vocally stunning. By far the best Squip Song I have ever heard. Also he has Pickle Rick tattoo?? It’s fucking brilliant I HATE IT! :D Millie O’Connel is perfect of course. She has such a presence on stage. It was hilarious when she came out after the show, with her hair down and make-up off and said hi and people mostly kinda ignored her cause... She’s really a hurricane on stage and when she dials it down just a notch I really think people don’t connect her to her stage persona :D

(Also like, massive kudos to The Other Palace’s stage door, cause they allow you to just hang around the bar where the cast has to go through to leave the place, so no dirty alleyways stage dooring in rain and cold and possible pickpockets around.)

I really loved the staging, and it’s very small, very minimal, which isn’t something I normally like, so well done! They definitely dialled back from the Broadway (the bean bags are back!) and honestly the minimal props and simple set really suit this show. It adds to that almost-like-a-really-good-school-play charm. But also they have this massive LED screen as the background so they can change and move and animate their backdrop and it’s honestly so impressive. The artwork is so perfectly in line with the show’s aesthetic. And it’s building up and up towards the show’s climax which I thought was pretty subtle and pretty neat creative decision.

Ugh this is so long I didn’t think it would be so long :D But I have one criticism I cannot not mention. And I kinda always had this, but seeing it live it jumps out on me more - I don’t feel Jeremy and Christine :| I mean don’t get me wrong. The actors have amazing chemistry, their added song is the one that I actually really like and it makes sense, there’s so much more meaningful interaction they have in the show than the songs wold suggest. But. It still doesn’t quite sit well. Besides the fact that I don’t think the show’s narrative is about Jeremy getting the girl - that’s not really his character arc. But also, although they’re not incompatible, he gets the girl he doesn’t even really know, and she definitely doesn’t know him. I think I would prefer if they just stayed friends at the end, but if there had to be romantic conclusion... Well, I mean who doesn’t ship boyf friends, but seriously if Michael was a girl I’m pretty sure he’d be the romantic endgame for Jeremy. You know the type, the old friend who was by the protagonists side and believed in him all along? Yeah. But besides that, i was surprised to find I kinda liked Jeremy with Brooke too? I mean they have the same problem as Jeremy and Christine, with not knowing each other and all that, but at least it’s mutual, and they seemed to have a spark. But maybe it’s just because I unexpectedly really, really loved Brooke (she doesn’t have much space on the album and no one ever really talks about her, why does no one really talk about her???). She defies a lot of her archetype, she seems like such a sweet person. I guess I would just like to see more of her, and more depth to her, which a romance with the protagonist would’ve given her.

But tbh the show devotes a lot more time than I thought it would for Christine and Jeremey’s relationship to develop and it isn’t unrealistic, so it ended up being a pretty minor issue, which i though would be a bigger one.

Tl;dr (oh my god why is this so long????) this show is everything I wanted and more. The West End cast is amazing, charming and delightful and each of them is perfectly cast to really embody their character, while giving some fresh outlook on characters I thought I knew very well and filling very big shoes of the original cast I thought couldn’t be replaced. Also I didn’t talk to any of them but they spend a long time hanging out with the fans after the show and seemed genuinely super nice and pleased with the love the show is getting. The book is more than an equal partner to the music I already was in love with (also Joe Iconis was at the show I saw! I didn’t talk to him because I’m me and I will forever regret it!). The Other Palace’s staging and direction is wonderful, and the choreography is impressive and very on brand with the rest of the show, very modern, very electro and robot. I enjoyed every second and the standing ovation at the end was well deserved.

Just to re-affirm how much I loved this show - just few days after seeing it I booked a ticket to go see it again almost immediately lol. So if anyone is seeing it this Wednesday 26th Feb and you can telepathically pick me in the audience come say hello!

(Or like, drop me a message like a normal person if you’re also going alone and want to meet with someone to seem less like a weirdo! :D)

#ramblings #i have a life #be more chill #bmc #be more chill west end #i love musicals! #musical theatre #review #i guess? #it’s pretty much just me yelling what a good time i had

[hamiltimes]

Answer all of them. 1-170. have fun.

HELL YES LETS GOOOOOOOO

1: How tall or short do you wish you were? 

5′2″. Exactly how tall I am now. I like being short.

2: What’s your dream pet? (Real or not)

I’ve always wanted a ferret. They can weed out people for me. If a person says “Ew, it’s a rat” then they ain’t worth my time.

 3: Do you have a favorite clothing style? 

Whatever’s on sale. Preferably baggy and comfortable

4: What was your favorite video game growing up? 

Always has been and always will be the Nancy Drew computer games. I’m obsessed. There are 32 games (we don’t talk about number 33), and I’ve played each one dozens of times.

5: What three things/people do you think of most each day: 

My laptop, my dog, my tumblr account

6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say? 

Warning: Prone to spontaneous breakdowns, both physically and mentally.

7: What is your opinion on [insert person/thing here]? 

Honest opinion on @Elizard-Hamilton, the person who sent this ask: They’re super sweet and kind, and probably the first reciprocal tumblr friendship I’ve ever had.

8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic] 

Don’t know what that is, too drunk to figure it out right now.

9: Are you ticklish? 

God yes. But I retaliate. If you tickle me, you will die.

10: Are you allergic to anything? 

No, that’s the one medical thing that I don’t have.

11: What’s your sexuality? 

Hetero-Demi Sexual. So I like men, but I’m only sexually attracted to them if we’ve been close for a long time.

12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa? 

Cocoa, always. Specifically, Tim Hortons Hot Chocolate. Medium, 2 creams.

13: Are you a cat or dog person? 

Dog. Always.

14: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson? 

I answered this one already, definitely merperson.

15: Do you have a favorite Youtuber? 

Nope.

16: How tall are you? 

See above.

17: If you had to change your name, what would you change it to? 

I’d just add an L to my name. New name, pronounced the same.

18: How much do you weigh? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] 

Right now, 126 lbs. But I should be 110. I just got off a medication that made me gain 40 pounds practically overnight. I went from 100 pounds to 140 pounds. I’m slowing losing the weight.

19: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits? 

Not in the traditional sense, but I do believe there are things about the departed we don’t yet understand. Kind of like way back when they though lightning was a supernatural event, until they found a scientific explanation for it. I think there’s stuff we just haven’t discovered yet.

20: Do you like space or the ocean more? 

Ocean.

21: Are you religious? 

Nope, athiest.

22: Pet peeves? 

Idk, I can’t think of any right now.

23: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal [opposite of nocturnal]? 

Wtf I don’t know? Who cares? I’d rather be whatever koalas are. They sleep 22 hours a day.

24: Favorite constellation? 

The only one I can think of right now is big dipper. That makes it my favourite and also my least favourite constellation.

25: Favorite star? 

See question 24, but North Star.

26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls? 

I don’t know what that is? Do you mean like Barbie? I litterally watching Barbie Nutcracker right now, lol.

27: Any phobias or fears? 

Spiders.

28: Do you think global warming is real? 

Duh.

29: Do you believe in reincarnation? 

No.

30: Favorite movie? 

Does Hamilton count? If yes, that. If not, Knives Out. I’m a sucker for a good murder mystery.

31: Do you get scared easily? 

Yes.

32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime? 

Oh god. Idk. You’re going to make me do math on vacation. Lets see. 3 Dogs, 2 Cats, ungodly numbers of fish, 2 rats, 5 hermit crabs, 3 hamsters, probably others I can’t remember.

33: Blog rate? [You’ll rate the blog of the one who’s asking.] 

@elizard-hamilton 10/10. 5 stars. Thumbs up. Gold Star.

34: What is a color that calms you? 

Royal Purple. I used to have a bedroom where everything was royal purple. The walls, the furniture, the bedding, the accessories. Everything. It was a great time in my life, so the colour makes me think of good times.

35: Where would you like to travel and/or live? 

I’d love to go to Belgium. My grandmother was born there, and we still have family over there that I’ve never met.

36: Where were you born? 

London Ontario

37: What is your eye color? 

Hazel

38: Introvert or extrovert? 

Introvert

39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs? 

Not at all

40: Hugs or kisses? 

None of the above. I have Asperger's, I don’t like to be touched.

41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now? 

I’d love to see my BFF from high school again. Haven’t talked to her since we graduated. Rachel, if you’re out there, I miss you.

42: Who is someone you love deeply? 

My parents.

43: Any piercings you want? 

None.

44: Do you like tattoos and piercings? 

Nope. I don’t have anything against them, they’re just not for me. If you have them, I won’t think any less of you. There’s nothing wrong with them.

45: Do you smoke or have you eiver done so? 

Nope. I’ve already got really shitty lungs (I have Cystic Fibrosis), I’d rather not make them worse than they already are.

46: Talk about your crush, if you have one! 

Oh gosh, he’s cute, funny, talented, a great singer, a great writer, he wrote a hit broadway musical... oh, he doesn’t count? Then no, no one right now.

47: What is a sound you really hate? 

Styrofoam rubbing against more styrofoam.

48: A sound you really love? 

The notification sound tumblr makes when I get something in my inbox

49: Can you do a backflip? 

HA no.

50: Can you do the splits? 

HA HA no.

51: Favorite actor and/or actress? 

Do I even need to answer this? I’m going to anyway. It’s..... drumroll........ Danny Devito! Lol, no, it’s Lin Manuel-Miranda

52: Favorite movie? 

This is the same as question 30.

53: How are you feeling right now? 

Drunk. Next question.

54: What color would you like your hair to be right now? 

Purple. I used to have purple hair. Then I got older and got a real job and I’m not allowed to die my hair anymore.

55: When did you feel happiest? 

At 16, with my purple hair and purple bedroom and my bff in like grade 11

56: Something that calms you down? 

Hamilton

57: Have any mental disorders? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] 

Asperger’s, Depression, situational anxiety.

58: What does your URL mean? 

Every time is Hamiltime. Because it’s always time for Hamilton.

59: What three words describe you the most? 

Bizarre, confrontational, idk. Is there a word that means unwilling to put up with anyone’s bullshit? Because if so, then that.

60: Do you believe in evolution? 

Yes. Evolution is a fact, it’s been proven. So this question should not say do you believe in evolution, it should say do you accept evolution.

61: What makes you unfollow a blog? 

If they start posting stuff i disagree with, or if they totally veer into a new fandom I’m not interested in. I’ve lost so many good blogs to kpop.

62: What makes you follow a blog? 

Idk, I like their stuff?

63: Favorite kind of person: 

Kind people.

64: Favorite animal(s): 

Pug.

65: Name three of your favorite blogs. 

I’m not going to start naming friends, cause I’ve got way more than three and I know I’m going to forget someone, so here’s 3 random blogs I enjoy: gmoringgnight, tinywhim, torsnavi

66: Favorite emoticon: 

I’m on my laptop, i don’t have emoticons right now, but probably the one where he’s crying laughing

67: Favorite meme: 

All of them. I love all the memes.

68: What is your MBTI personality type? 

I’m too drunk to remember right now, ask me tomorrow.

69: What is your star sign? 

Pisces

70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog? 

He cannot. He’s an idiot. But he can give you a high five, if that counts for something.

71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most? 

Leggings, T-Shirt, Hoodie. Whatever’s clean.

72: Post a selfie or two? 

No

73: Do you have platform shoes? 

No

74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself? 

I can solve a rubik’s cube

75: Can you do a front flip? 

LOL NO

76: Do you like birds? 

To look at, not to own or touch

77: Do you like to swim? 

Very much. In the water, it’s the one place my back doesn’t hurt.

78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you? 

Swimming. I don’t skate. I know, oh wow, a Canadian who can’t skate. Sue me.

79: Something you wish didn’t exist: 

Trump.

80: Some thing you wish did exist: 

Alex Clairmont-Diaz

81: Piercings you have? 

My ears are pierced.

82: Something you really enjoy doing: 

Reading

83: Favorite person to talk to: 

My mom

84: What was your first impression of Tumblr? 

Amazing, finally a place I can be as weird as I want and it’s totally anonymous.

85: How many followers do you have? 

I have no idea.

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes? 

HA no

87: Do your socks always match? 

Yes

88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely? 

When I was 14, they did a surgery where they put metal rods in my spine to keep it from growing crooked. My spine doesn’t bend at all. So I’ve never tried to touch my toes, but I’m going to go with no, I can’t.

89: What are your birthstones? 

I think Aquamarine? I don’t remember.

90: If you were an animal, which one would you be? 

Koala. They sleep 22 hours a day.

91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be? 

I can’t think of any flowers right now beyond rose and tulip, and neither represent me. Is there a flower that’s really ugly? If so, that.

92: A store you hate? 

Gap. I despise that store with every escence of my being.

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day? 

None. It tastes like manure.

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds? 

Ooh, fly. No more wheelchair.

95: Do you like to wear camo? 

I don’t think i particularly like or dislike it. I just don’t wear it.

96: Winter or summer? 

SUMMER ALL THE TIME

97: How long can you hold your breath for? 

Not long at all. See explanation above, r.e. Cystic Fibrosis

98: Least favorite person? 

Trump

99: Someone you look up to: 

My mom

100: A store you love? 

Hot Topic. Yes, I’m basic like that. 

101: Favorite type of shoes 

Flats, cause I don’t have to attempt to bend over to put them on.

102: Where do you live? 

Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. Yes, I’m serious.

103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why? 

Nope.

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem? 

Wtf? Are people supposed to have a favourite mineral or gem?

105: Do you drink milk? 

No

106: Do you like bugs? 

No

107: Do you like spiders? 

NO

108: Something you get paranoid about? 

If I remembered to turn off my computer before I go to bed.

109: Can you draw: 

Nope

110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked? 

On a daily basis, people ask me why I use my scooter or my wheelchair. Every day. Not so much during the pandemic, but yeah.

111: A question you hate being asked? 

“When are you going to get a boyfriend?” “When are you going to settle down?” 

112: Ever been bitten by a spider? 

NOPE

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach? 

Who doesn’t?

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days? 

Cloudy, cause then I can stay indoors guilt-free

115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now: 

My dog. But he’s with my sister.

116: Favorite cloud type: 

???? Is this something I’m supposed to have an opinion on?????

117: What color do you wish the sky was? 

???? IDGAF ??????

118: Do you have freckles? 

No

119: Favorite thing about a person: 

Their laugh

120: Fruits or vegetables? 

Fruit

121: Something you want to do right now: 

Get another drink, but that’s probs not a great idea

122: Is the ocean or sky prettier? 

Ocean

123: Sweet or sour foods? 

Sweet

124: Bright or dim lights? 

Dim

125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature? 

No

126: Something you hate about Tumblr: 

I can’t reblog ads. Some of those ads are really, REALLY funny.

127: Something you love about Tumblr: 

Completely anonymous. I could be anyone. For all you know, I’m actually Mike Pence. (I promise I’m not)

128: What do you think about the least? 

Idk? There’s probably lots of stuff I’ve never thought about at all

129: What would you want written on your tombstone? 

Nothing, but I want there to be a little machine on top that looks like a parking meter, and when you put money in it you get wifi for an hour.

130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now? 

Trump, most of the politicians in the states. I want to go to New York, and I can’t because y’all can’t get your shit together and kick this virus.

131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself? 

My face. Not going to elaborate.

132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures?

Yes, but only because I get yelled at if I don’t.

133: Computer or TV? 

Computer.

134: Do you like roller coasters? 

I used to. Then the back surgery and now I can’t anymore.

135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness? 

Motion sickness no, seasickness yes.

136: Are your ears lobed or attached? 

Lobed.

137: Do you believe in karma? 

I believe that what you do will eventually come back to bite you in the ass, but I don’t believe in some cosmic force that balances the scales.

138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are? 

0. Not going to elaborate.

139: What nicknames do you have/have had? 

None. My name has always been Adele. The few people who tried to give me nicknames got shot down real quick.

140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends? 

When I was little, yeah

141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink? 

Yes ma’am. For over a decade.

142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others? 

Both at different times.

143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help? 

Giving. I never know what to say when receiving.

144: What makes you angry 

A lot of things these days. Can’t think of anything specific. My sister, usually.

145: How many languages do you speak fluently? 

Two. I speak French and English.

146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries? 

Boys.

147: Are you androgynous? 

Nope.

148: Favorite physical thing about yourself: 

My face. Not going to elaborate.

149: Favorite thing about your personality: 

My “take no shit” attitude.

150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person. 

Lin Manuel Miranda, Renee Elise Goldsberry, anyone from West Wing

151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose? 

Revolutionary America

152: Do you like BuzzFeed? 

I’ve been known to partake.

153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.] 

Nope. I’m forever alone.

154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons? 

No. I have Asperger’s. No touching.

155: Do you like to play with others’ hair? 

No.

156: What embarrasses you? 

When I need to ask for help for really simple things because of my wheelchair or other disabilities. I hate it.

157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious: 

The future, for reasons way too complex to write in a tumblr post.

158: Biggest lie you have ever told: 

I convinced half my second grade class I was related to Elton John once. That was fun. They believed it for like 3 months.

159: How many people are you following? 

Hundreds.

160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)? 

I don’t even know how I would find that out.

161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)? 

Right now, I have 12, but that’s because I’ve queued up the next 4 days HamiltonHungerGames. Usually, I have none. I don’t understand how people have drafts. When I feel like writing something on tumblr, I start a post, I end the post, I post it. I never use drafts

162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)? 

??? Again, I have no idea how to find that information.

163: Last time you cried and why: 

I honestly don’t remember.

164: Do you have long or short hair? 

Usually long, but right now short. My mom decided to give me a covid haircut, and she does not understand the meaning of “Just a trim”.

165: Longest your hair has ever been: 

Down to my butt. 

166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon? 

Dislike. I’m not going to talk about it here, but if you’re really curious you can dm me.

167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created? 

Yes, because if we know where the universe and world came from, we can figure out where it’s headed. See the book Origins by Dan Brown.

168: Do you like to wear makeup? 

Not at all.

169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds? 

I can barely stand on my feet for more than 30 seconds.

170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully? 

Tried to.

Ok, this took me an hour and 45 minutes. I’m tired, I’m drunk, I’m going to regret this in the morning, I’m going to bed. Night y’all.

[jgroffdaily]

Jonathan Groff decides we should take advantage of what might be New York’s last suitable night for al fresco dining in 2019. He sits down at one of a dozen empty tables outside the otherwise packed Hell’s Kitchen bistro and announces, in a tone suggesting more mischief than regret, that he must first make a call.

"Hello," he says, iPhone now at his ear. "Joel Grey?"

Groff is starring in a limited revival of Little Shop of Horrors, and it is a very hot ticket. The Broadway legend on the other end of the line has apparently thrown a Hail Mary in hopes of scoring seats to the night’s sold-out performance. Hamming up this exchange for my amusement, Groff is game to play broker for the Tony and Oscar winner who originated the role of Cabaret’s tuxedoed emcee — and, maybe, anybody else who has his number.

"This is basically my part-time job," says Groff of fielding requests, jotting down credit card information and negotiating pickup times and locations for friends both famous and civilian. "It was the same thing when I was doing Hamilton," he adds of his year playing King George III in Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hip-hop history lesson. "But I was really only onstage for nine minutes during that show, so the tickets were probably full-time."

The 34-year-old actor seems eager to please, not unlike current alter ego Seymour. Little Shop’s nebbish, sweet and ultimately doomed florist nurtures a manipulative plant even as the pet’s homicidal tendencies grow more and more apparent. Those familiar with the campy musical comedy know that it suffers no shortage of blood, but it’s a nursery rhyme compared with Groff’s recent work on truecrime thriller Mindhunter. Playing a curious FBI agent in David Fincher’s Netflix series has perhaps done more for his ascendant profile than anything yet. But two seasons on the drama have meant two nine-month stints in Pittsburgh, filming interrogation scenes with character actors who bear uncanny resemblances to famous serial killers.

So even on a two-show day like this late- October Saturday, the rigors of theater are easy work for Groff. Over a couple of hot toddies, in between humoring three smitten waiters at the restaurant at which he’s been a regular since Little Shop went into previews down the block, the actor appears to be in his element. "Theater is such a communal, familial medium and interactive experience," notes Groff, who says he recognizes faces in the crowd during most performances. "Mindhunter, for me at least, is a very private experience."

Groff plays against type on Mindhunter. Wide-eyed with an almost perpetual grin, his is a mug you wouldn’t be surprised to find in an illustrated Merriam-Webster — cozied up to the entry for "baby face." Much of his previous acting career leaned into this, starting with his breakout. The Pennsylvania native came to New York at 19 and landed the lead in the musical Spring Awakening by the time he was 21. "I was just auditioning for the ensemble of Broadway shows," says Groff. "I hadn’t really developed the taste to appreciate something like Spring Awakening until I was in it."

New York’s "It" Broadway show of the aughts, the rock opera about sexual discovery among 19th century German teenagers earned Groff his first Tony nomination. He spent two years in the production before leaving in 2008, at the same time as friend and co-star Lea Michele, to pursue film and television. The work that immediately followed — Ang Lee’s Taking Woodstock, a recurring spin on Michele’s Fox hit Glee, a supporting role in the second season of Kelsey Grammer’s cult drama Boss, voicework in Disney $1.3 billion smash Frozen (he’ll reprise his role as Kristoff in Frozen 2, out Nov. 22) — got him on the radar for vehicles of his own. When HBO began casting Looking, its 2014 dramedy about a group of gay friends navigating an evolving San Francisco, Groff was soon tapped to front the series.

"He will search for the best version of every scene and will work until everyone drops," says Looking executive producer Andrew Haigh, who cast him as Patrick — boy-nextdoor- ish, like the actor, but privileged and problematically fickle. "He is also wholly unafraid to be vulnerable onscreen."

Looking lasted for only two seasons and a wrap-up movie, and its premature demise allowed Groff to do Hamilton, which he joined while the show was off-Broadway in early 2015, and then made the jump to Broadway. His supporting part as the aforementioned royal — with interstitial lamentations for the seceding Colonies, sung like a lovelorn (and supremely pissed) Davy Jones — earned Groff his second Tony nomination. But Groff wasn’t long for Hamilton, either. He was circling his next TV project, a moody prestige procedural about the early days of the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit, based on the 1995 memoir Mindhunter by criminal profiler John E. Douglas.

"I’m not naturally a true-crime person. So reading the book, I was like … 'oh, fuck,' "says Groff of John E. Douglas’ memoir 'Mindhunter.'

Mindhunter, the book and the series, delves into the morbid minutiae of notorious murder cases with an emphasis on interviews between law enforcement and criminals in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Groff was in contention for the role of FBI agent Holden Ford, based loosely on Douglas. First, he had to prove to director and executive producer Fincher — a filmmaker long admired by Groff, who says he has "a boner for his brain" — that a jovial Broadway star most widely known for singing with a reindeer in a Disney cartoon could have the upper hand with serial killers.

It was not Groff’s first audition for Fincher. Seven years earlier, he was in the running to play Napster co-founder Sean Parker in The Social Network. "My agents said, 'You have an audition in L.A. with David and Aaron Sorkin,' " Groff recalls. "If you get it, you start rehearsal the next day, so pack your suitcase for two months. They really like your tape, but they’re also considering Justin Timberlake." The part went to Timberlake.

"I did not feel then — and still don’t — that he had the inherent venality for that role," Fincher says of Groff. "He is as decent and sensitive as anyone I’ve ever met."

If venality is off the table for Groff, darkness is not. And though casting the song-anddance man was a source of curiosity for some in Hollywood before Mindhunter’s 2017 debut, the finished product didn’t elicit any skepticism from critics. Over the first season, Groff’s character goes from eager, milkdrinking company boy to a shell of the man introduced in the first episode. He alarms colleagues with the way he mirrors serial killers, until he has a panic attack after getting a bear hug from a necrophile. The second run, equally well reviewed after its August debut, saw a somewhat recovered Holden sit down with Charles Manson and, for the dramatic fulcrum of the season, investigate the Atlanta child murders of 1979-81.

"It is so impossibly bleak that I don’t think about it while I’m doing it," says Groff, who confesses he finds watching the show more affecting than making it. "All due respect to people who feel like the character is inside of them or whatever, but I don’t have that. I would leave set, listen to Beyoncé, and that was it."

After an hour and a half in his company, Groff reveals himself as a Lucille Ball historian, an avid bike rider, a devout New Yorker and someone who doesn’t seem easily bummed out — except when the conversation turns to success. His excitement over landing Mindhunter, he says, was immediately diluted by a pang of sadness. "Whenever something really great happens, it makes me feel a little bit depressed," he says. "It’s like, this is never going to get better than this moment right now. I’m sitting in David Fincher’s office and he’s giving me this role."

Talk of a third season of Mindhunter is on hold while Fincher focuses on his next feature. But the director did take a recent break from Mank, a biopic on Citizen Kane screenwriter Herman Mankiewicz, to attend Groff’s first Little Shop matinee with wife and fellow Mindhunter executive producer Céan Chaffin. It was a surprise appearance, but only because Groff hadn’t been checking his text messages. "I’m not good at my phone," he admits.

Groff has not looked at his phone since that one call — which, while polite, now has him in danger of running late for curtain. He breaks the bad news of his immediate departure to one particularly adoring waiter, and we walk to the stand where his bike is locked. There, he pulls from his bag a cobalt helmet that could double as Tron cosplay. Bars of blinding LED lights on both its front and back, his headgear tells cabs to get the hell out of the way and signals to everybody else that this is a man who values safety over subtlety.

"Yeah, I do really love riding my bike in the city … I’m just not that hard-core," Groff says of the helmet before encasing his tousle of sandy chestnut hair for the one-block ride to the theater and an expectant Joel Grey. "My mom bought this for me."

#jonathan groff #interview

[ofblueyes]

New York’s very own Devin Bahar was spotted on Broadway street in Louis Vuitton ankle boots. Your resemblance to Bella Hadid is unreal. According to TMZ, you just had your twenty-third birthday bash. while living in NYC,  you’ve been labeled as being a workaholic, but also loyal. i guess being a libra explains that. Three things that would paint a better picture of you would be messy silk sheets, red wine, and pretty lingerie. &  ( female & she/her )

Not only have I not written an intro post in 5ever, but I’ve also managed to screw up my glasses two hours before working on this so, stick with me here because this might be a mess, even though I mostly copy and pasted from my old af intro. Anyway, I’m Katie, twenty-one, in the est timezone, and I use she/her pronouns and here I am going to attempt to introduce my bby Devin to you.

If you want to check out her statistics and you want to read a lot more in-depth about her background click here!

✧ backstory

Devin I. Bahar was born to Isabella Corine Bahar, an ex-model who retired when she got married, becoming far more attracted to the ‘rich housewife, bow down to me’ aesthetic than continuing to work, an Damian Ethan Bahar, a lawyer coming from a long line of family lawyers that were known for working important, high-profile cases.

The relationship she holds with her mother is strained due to the woman’s materialistic nature and her goal of marrying off her daughter for as much money as possible. Her eyes are always on a far bigger and shinier prize, no matter how good her life already is.

Her relationship with her father, miraculously, is healthier than the one she has with her mother, simply because she has absolutely no relationship with the male. He took off when she was younger, cutting off all possible contact with his daughter without a second thought and he hadn’t bothered to make any effort to try and have a relationship with her.

In fact, when she had attempted to start some form of a relationship with him after she turned eighteen, he completely rejected her and wanted nothing to do with her and it ripped her apart far more than she was willing to admit to herself or anyone else.

Even now, she isn’t sure if the complete cut in contact is due to her mother or if it was simply because she didn’t live up to his expectations, didn’t deserve his love. Either way, she has attempted to move on from it after the rejection, even if she still has that small hole in her heart over it.

Due to how strained her relationship is with her mother, she moved out of the house the day she turned eighteen, having managed to save up enough money to support herself, wanting to get away from her as soon as possible. However, the woman is still her mother and she does still attempt to have some form of a relationship with her, even if it sends her into a horrible mood whenever she has a conversation with the woman.

✧ career

She first began modeling at the age of 16 for a commercial project. She also starred in the "Swan Sittings" by Lesa Amoore, alongside actor Ben Barnes, before appearing in "Smoking Hot" by Holly Copeland. She also modeled for Hanna Hayes' F/W 2013 collection, alongside various other commercial projects, including campaign work for Chrome Hearts during 2013 and 2014.

She was then signed to IMG Models in 2014 and her career started shooting off from there.

She never actually planned to become a model, she actually wanted to be a photographer when she was younger and planned to go to school for it. When it came to the point where her focus turned towards college, she ended up heading towards visual arts, fashion design, and graphic design. Uut of that, she discovered her passion for clothing and that’s what began her journey of designing clothes, a project she started along with her modelling career.

Since the start of her career, she has won over a dozen different awards that range over her multiple different career-interests. Managing to make a name for herself as a model and fashion designer.

As much as she enjoys photography, she puts most of her focus onto modelling and continuing to add to her own clothing line full-time. This leaves photography for her spare time as more of a hobby, however, she does step in to help other high-profile photographers from time-to-time.

✧ personality

She identifies herself as pansexual and has always been very open to sharing and talking about her sexuality.

Has always put her foot forward to support charities, organizations, and projects that support the entire LGBTQ community. Along with making sure to put her focus into other charities and organizations, she’s always been the type of person to ‘give back’ and to put her support into the things she believes in.

Devin suffers from intense depression and anxiety. for the most part, you would never know, she does well but, every once in a while she goes into a deep rut. She won’t talk to anyone, doesn’t want anyone around, generally entirely depressing and doesn’t want to bring other people down when it comes to it. It takes a lot of trust and a special type of friendship for her to allow you to be around during that time considering, most of the time, she’ll go completely off the grid the entire time. However, at the same time, she openly talks about her battle with depression and anxiety. She doesn’t ever want anyone to feel alone and she tries to involve herself with as many campaigns and projects that involve supporting those with mental illness as possible.

Along with this, she also has this back and forth with affection. She either hates being touched or gravitates towards it, it really depends on her mental state at the time and the general relationship she has with the other person involved. It can be difficult, one day she’ll be ready to give you a bear hug and the next day, she’ll shake if you try to shake her hand.

On a more positive note, she tries to be as positive as she can, to a reasonable extent. She never wants to take life far too seriously but, obviously, doesn’t want to take it for granted either. She’s the type of person you go to if you want clear-headed advice but you don’t want to be talked down to at the same time. Or if you want ridiculous jokes while also getting some kind of pep-talk.

Really the mom-friend but probably won’t ever admit to being the mom friend, but she knows she is.

✧ wanted connections

you can find my connections page right here with a random list of wanted connections along with a list of current connections! If you’d like to plot, absolutely slide into my dms!

#wealthyhq:intro

[br0kencl0ck]

Hadestown on Broadway hot takes:

(Spoilers I suppose?) I have no hot takes it was incredible. The cast was amazing and one of the dancers was a giant of a man with a huge beard and huge muscles. There was a tenor fate that I fell in love with every time she opened her mouth.

Very enjoyable. I did not realize the purpose of the poppy symbol and now that I do (I believe it's supposed to represent a bloom of new love) I now have even more appreciation for the flower and almost want another poppy tattoo. Each actor gave their heart and soul to the production and it was so clear. Performances such as Flowers and Wait for Me were so incredibly moving and a completely different experience in person. During the rendition of Wait for Me the entire set split into pieces and stretched and grew into the setting of the underworld in a garish and unnatural fashion as the theatre was suddenly filled with hot yellow industrial light instead of the soft glow from the cafe setting. It was one of if not the best moment of the production visually. That moment and two others stood out to me as the best. One being the very last action in the show which I will discuss later, and the other being the moment that Orpheus turns around and Eurydice is sent back to Hadestown. As their duet nears its end, the stage itself is changing with the emotion. The set pieces and forming back together and the light is fading into the same familiar golden glow reminiscent of sunlight until when Orpheus is mere steps from his goal he turns around. The theatre is immediately plunged into dead silence for what I believe is the first and only time the stage is completely quiet, and every light in the theatre comes on, making the stage look desolate and cold now without the glow it had moments ago. Orpheus and Eurydice stare at eachother in agony for several heartwrenching moments before whispering "its you" to eachother and Eurydice begins to sink into the ground so slowly it adds to the pain portrayed in the scene. They call out to eachother and she is plunged back Underground when Orpheus finally runs attempts to catch her. Going into it, I was honestly dreading André de Shields performance since I had only ever listened to the original demo recordings and was used to Bon Iver who delivers a very different character. However by the end I fell in love with the changes made as the character of Orpheus now held much more consistent flaws and upheld a theme. To touch on the matter of theme, the musical as a whole is now much more clear as a story about the trials of love and the hope of having another chance to fix what may have been broken.

On a personal note:

Before I saw it on Broadway, I had only ever listened to the original demo recordings from 2010. Not only did I have the timeline of events wrong, as the newer album has a narrator as well as several more tracks that allow a much more in depth telling of the story, but I was also unaware that the ending was changed ever so slightly to create an entirely different conclusion. The demo ends like the traditional story of Orpheus and Eurydice, he turns around, she is swept back to hell (which is still the most heartbreaking scene) and the final song begins which is a send off to the story and an acceptance of what happened. While that song is still performed after curtain call, the true final song is a reprise of Road to Hell, during which it is revealed that the young pair are given another chance and their first meeting is recreated perfectly. This is accompanied by Hades and Persephone promising eachother that they would "try again" to truly repair their own love next fall. The final line sung (by the narrorator) is "we will sing it again" and directly after the show ends when Orpheus and Eurydice meet each other's eyes and realize what chance they've been given.

As someone who was collectively knowledgable of the original myth, expecting the original ending, and who has to make so much effort everyday to be hopeful of love and relationships in general, I cannot describe the emotional impact watching the ending had on me. Eurydice's character was more fleshed out as a person who was betrayed too many times, and was now cynical and closed off to other people, that is until Orpheus gained her trust, and she allowed herself to love him. Seeing this and immediately finding myself in her words and her decisions to open up again I began to dread the ending of the play more than I ever had as i believed that i was there to watch the same heartbreak that I had experienced myself so many times on my own from one of my favorite pieces of music.

To expect tragedy and instead be given a life line of hope and a promise of a chance shook me to my core and I cried harder than I ever thought I would at that show.

"I knew you before we met

And I dont even know you yet

All I know is you're someone I've always known"

#hadestown

[searchingwardrobes]

Natural Opposite: 13/16

Happy New Year's Eve, everyone! Thanks as always to the best beta ever, @distant-rose. I encourage you to go read all of her own fics because she's fantastic. My artist @optomisticgirl has once again made wonderful chapter art for this . Please check out her blog to see all her art (not just for this story) as well as her own fanfics which are some of my favs. Also head over to @captainswanbigbang if you haven't already. There were so many amazing fics written for this event; we are a blessed fandom!

Summary: Dance is more than Emma Swan’s career; it’s practically saved her life on more than one occasion. But when it comes to reality TV shows, she’s always danced in the shadows of her twin brother David and her sister Elsa. Her first season as a pro on Dancing With the Stars was a disaster, and she enters her second season determined to prove herself. All she needs is a good partner. Hollywood bad boy and ladies’ man Killian Jones isn’t what she had in mind.

Rating: M for mature themes, steamy dance routines, and sexy times (But NOT smut)

Trigger warnings: discussions of online solicitation of a minor, bullying, statutory rape, and emotionally abusive/controlling relationships; stalking; anti-Rumbelle, anti-Neal

Chapter Art by @optomisticgirl: Four| Five| Six| Seven| Nine| Eleven| Twelve|

Can also be read on Ao3

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be added to my tag list) @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kday426 @bethacaciakay @teamhook @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @winterbaby89 @onceuponaprincessworld @followbatb @hollyethecurious @ohmakemeahercules

Chapter Thirteen: Hook

Emma reached down to pet Graham’s service dog as she headed to the kitchen for another helping of orange chicken from the take out containers. Elsa and Graham had graciously allowed Emma and Henry to join them for their impromptu celebration for getting voted off in today’s eliminations.

“I still can’t believe we’re celebrating,” Emma commented as she settled back down on the couch.

Elsa turned to Graham, who had her tucked against his side, his hand resting on her hip. She traced his jaw and smiled. “We don’t have to hide that we’re together anymore,” she said, and Graham pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then Elsa turned to Emma. “Besides, now we don’t have to compete against you and Killian in the semi-finals. Now I can just cheer on my little sister.”

“You and Jones are going to win,” Graham told her confidently as he took a sip of his beer.

Emma sighed as she speared a piece of chicken with her chopsticks. “I hope so.”

“He sure beat me in that dance off,” Graham chuckled.

Elsa pressed her face against Graham’s chest as a blush stained her cheeks. Emma’s own face burned. The show had only aired on the east coast a couple of hours ago, and already the salsa dance-off between the two couples was being dubbed “The Chest-Off.” It already had thousands of views on YouTube, and everyone was in a heated discussion on which was hotter: chest hair or a smooth chest? While they were dancing, Emma and Elsa couldn’t see the meter recording the live votes, but when they watched the footage later, they laughed hysterically as the little bar at the bottom of the screen spiked wildly in Graham’s direction as soon as he took his shirt off. But then Killian had taken off his, and the meter surged in the opposite direction. In the end, the vote had been clear: Killian’s chest hair had won the salsa. There was no way of knowing, of course, if losing those extra points had cost Graham the semi-finals or not, but it had certainly helped Emma and Killian. The other couple voted off had been August and Jasmine. Emma tried to feel bad for her temporary partner, and when she couldn’t, she felt slightly guilty.

“It’s down to two athletes, Killian, and Belle,” Elsa commented as she grabbed a fortune cookie and cracked it open.

“Yeah, it’s shaping up to be a great end to the season,” Emma said.

“Aw, look,” Elsa gushed, showing Graham the tiny slip of paper from her cookie, “it says The end is sometimes really the beginning. Isn’t that perfect for today?”

Graham’s face softened. “It’s perfect for us. For a while, it felt like everything that mattered to me was ending, but it all led me right here. To you.”

Graham then cupped Elsa’s face and gave her a soft kiss.

“Ugh,” Henry complained, pretending to gag on an eggroll, “kid in the room, remember?”

Graham and Elsa both chuckled. “Sorry,” Graham apologized, but he didn’t let go of Emma’s sister, simply tucking her head beneath his chin and tugging her a bit closer. Elsa softened against him with a contented smile on her face.

As she watched them, Emma tried to keep her mind from dwelling on a certain blue-eyed Brit with soft lips and strong hands. She stared into her plate of Chinese food, willing her blood to cool and her mind to cease replaying that kiss. It’s not like it would lead to the same place Elsa found herself in with Graham. Killian wasn’t a retired Marine with multiple options before him. He was an actor. How many times had she reminded herself of that fact? The thing was, since there kiss it was getting harder and harder to remember.

*********************************************************

Emma hadn’t even made her way out of bed yet the next morning when her phone dinged that she had a text message. It was from Killian.

Can we meet, Swan? Away from the cameras?

Emma worried her lower lip as she contemplated his request. She had a feeling she knew what he wanted to talk about, and while it was a conversation she really didn’t want to have, she also didn’t want to risk the situation blowing up in their faces while the cameras rolled.

Sure. Same cafe as last time? Just not outside this time.

She hit send, and Killian quickly sent back a reply.

Ha ha, definitely no. I’ll be in a ball cap again just to be safe.

Emma texted back with a time for him to meet her then slipped out of bed. She skipped a shower, figuring it was pointless anyway since she’d just get sweaty at rehearsals. She put her messy hair in a ponytail, then shoved it into an Angels baseball cap that August had given her. She brushed a kiss across the cheek of a bleary-eyed Henry as he shuffled from his room.

“I thought you didn’t have to practice as early now that Neverland’s on hiatus,” her son grumbled.

“I know, and starting tomorrow morning I’ll make you breakfast every day till New Year’s, okay kid?”

He shrugged his acceptance as he grabbed a box of cereal from the pantry, and Emma dashed out the door. She knew he was responsible enough to catch the bus on time, and Elsa was still home. Still, mommy guilt sometimes felt like her constant companion. Even with all the help from her siblings and Mary Margaret, being a single mom wasn’t easy. She pushed such thoughts from her mind as she made her way through LA traffic. She was early enough that rush hour hadn’t begun yet, but the streets were still a bit congested. In the end, she was ten minutes late meeting Killian.

Emma kept her sunglasses on just in case as she stepped into the cafe. She wouldn’t have recognized Killian if not for the bright blue eyes shining from under the brim of his Dodgers baseball cap. He was wearing a plain gray hoodie that seemed to be his standard uniform when trying to go unrecognized.

His phone was pressed to his ear, but when Emma reached the table, he smiled up at her. “Um, sorry Robin, but I’ve got to go. Emma’s here,” he paused, giving Emma an apologetic look for being on his phone. “Aye, mate, I look forward to it. . . I will . . . bye.”

As Emma sat down, she noted the way his smile reached his eyes, crinkling the skin around them. “Must be good news.”

“It is,” Killian replied, excitement coloring his voice. They were interrupted by a waitress taking their order, but as soon as she left, Killian continued eagerly. “You know the movie musical The Greatest Showman, right?”

Emma nodded with a shrug, “Who doesn’t?”

“Well, the same producers are developing a new movie musical about the rise of the punk music scene in London in the 70s. They want me for the lead.”

Emma smiled broadly. “That’s great!”

He ducked his head with that bashful smile of his that she never would have expected him capable of three months ago. “I have you to thank,” he told her.

Emma shook her head. “No, Killian. All I did was teach you some dance steps. You’re the one who proved to the world that you’re a triple threat. So who’s the choreographer?”

The waitress brought their orders out, and Emma stirred the whipped cream and cinnamon into her hot chocolate as she watched Killian take a bite of his breakfast sandwich before answering. When he did, his eyes were bright with excitement.

“Tabatha and Napoleon D’Umo.”

Emma almost knocked her hot chocolate over as her hands flew to her mouth. “Nappy Tabs? Seriously?! I’m so jealous. I never got to work with them on So You Think You Can Dance.”

Killian’s grin was broad as he took in her reaction. “Their lyrical hip hop is the style they’re going for in the film.”

“Oh, I’m so jealous,” Emma sighed as she broke apart her blueberry muffin and popped a bite in her mouth. “Put in a word for me? I sing you know.”

“That’s right,” Killian nodded, “you did Broadway.”

“Just in the corp. It was a steadier life for Henry than touring the ballroom circuit. Ingrid and Anna went with me to help with Henry. I missed Elsa and David, especially David, but I still got to dance and Ingrid kept working with me to get me back in competition shape.” Emma shook her head as she stared into her mug of cocoa. “Why am I babbling on about me? This is great news for you!”

“Aye. The casting director and producers want to meet me in London after the show wraps.”

Emma felt her stomach drop. “London?”

Killian eyed her with that intense look of his. “They want actual London landmarks from that time in the film. Sort of like how LA was a character in La La Land.”

Emma bit her lip, her eyes darting away from Killian’s face. “London . . . “

Killian cleared his throat. “But that’s not why I asked you to meet me. Emma –“

“Is this about Liam leaving?” Emma cut him off, locking her eyes on his again.

Killian arched one brow and gave her a half smile. “No, it’s not that either. I knew he’d have to go back home sooner or later. He’s got a job, you know. Pretty brunette bookworms can’t distract him from that reality.”

Emma laughed nervously. “Right . . .”

Killian leaned across the table. “And you’re changing the subject.”

Emma swallowed hard and fiddled with the napkin in her hand. “What subject?”

“The kiss, Emma.”

Emma scoffed even as heat crept up her neck. “Why? It was just a kiss.”

“Not for me,” he said, voice laced with conviction. He reached across the table and stilled the nervous motion of her hands by covering them with his. “Emma, when I was just starting in the industry, I was so focused on my career that I didn’t take the time to pursue any relationships. Then I got the role on Neverland, and I got carried away with partying and all the attention from women. Until one day I realized those women were attracted to my fame, not me. I never thought I’d actually find someone I could truly love . . . until I met you.”

Emma pulled her hands away abruptly and stared at her lap. She wasn’t sure what she could say to any of that.

Killian added in almost a whisper, “That’s what the kiss revealed.”

Emma lifted her head finally, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. “You just told me you’ll be moving to London, Killian.”

“But we –“

“No,” Emma cut him off, standing abruptly. She shook her head. “Please don’t make empty promises, Killian. You won’t keep them, believe me.”

Killian just looked at her silently for a moment. Then he gave one nod of his head; a nod of acceptance. “Okay, Emma. I won’t push it. Whatever we become, if anything, it’s up to you just as much as it is me.” He reached out and took her hand. “Just don’t leave. We’re still partners. And . . . friends? I hope?”

Emma gave him a tentative smile as she sat back down at the table. She squeezed his hand before releasing it. “Yes, definitely friends.”

She picked up her fork, slightly dazed when Killian smoothly changed the subject and started to tell her how he decided to grow his hair long at seventeen, much to Liam’s horror. She laughed between bites of her omelet, the tension from moments ago melting away. His patience with her walls meant more to her than she cared to admit. She honestly didn’t know that there were men out there who would actually take “no” for an answer.

*******************************************************

“What’s with the box?” Killian asked when he entered the studio. Emma had asked him to wait ten minutes at the café so they wouldn’t show up on set at the same time. The cameras were already rolling.

Emma smiled brightly at him and accepted his casual hug despite the electricity she felt every time he touched her. They had to dance together this week, after all, and this was being recorded.

“I don’t know what’s in the box,” she told him honestly. “We can’t open it until we look at the input from fans on Twitter. It’s people’s choice week. The viewers get to pick what we dance.”

Emma sat cross legged on the floor and powered up her laptop. Killian plopped down next to her, scooting close so he could see the screen. His leg was pressed against her knee, and she felt like a ridiculous teenager as her pounding heart reacted to it. His head was inclined towards her, too, and she kept her eyes glued to the device in her hands lest she turn her head and tumble headlong into those blue eyes of his.

“Okay,” Emma said as she scrolled through the tweets the producers had sent her, “this one says, With Neverland on hiatus, I’m going through withdrawal. I want to see Captain Hook on the dance floor! And this fan wants you to dance to the theme from Neverland.”

Killian leaned closer as he read the next tweet. “I want to see him dance with the hook!” He turned to face her, and Emma was forced to meet his gaze. “Doesn’t this all go against the very reason I did the show? To help people see me as more than Hook?”

Emma smiled softly at him. “You have proven that. But your fans love your show and the character you created.” She bit her lip to stop from adding that the show was ending. That wasn’t public knowledge yet, though rumors were all over the internet. Emma had a feeling those rumors were fueling the tweets a little.

Killian rubbed his jaw and sighed. “Okay. So what’s the dance style then?”

Emma leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and thinking. In the past, the audience voted on the song, style, and theme. The result had sometimes been disastrous when the three didn’t complement one another. So this year they were leaving the dance style up to the pros.

“Well, I think I’ll have to listen to the Neverland score again before I make that decision.” She went to her dance bag and pulled out her phone and her earbuds. She pulled up the music and closed her eyes as the notes flowed through her. Her whole life, even before she was formally trained, she imagined dances in her head whenever she heard music. The light and playful melody of the Neverland score was no different. She smiled as she opened her eyes. “A quick step, definitely.”

Killian was looking at her with such intensity, it almost put her on edge. A soft smile filled his face. “Dance and music are in your blood, aren’t they, Swan?”

Emma turned quickly as she yanked her ear buds out and stuffed them back in her bag. It was disconcerting the way he read her sometimes. She cleared her throat as she pulled her iPhone speakers out and set them up.

“Well, let’s get started.”

“As you wish.”

*********************************************************

The box, naturally, had contained Killian’s hook and brace that he wore on Neverland. Three hooks, actually. Killian explained it to her; one was rubber and used for stunts so no one got hurt accidentally. The second was a light aluminum hook with a blunted point that he wore for the majority of scenes, and the last one was made of actual steel and had a real, sharp tip. It was used for close ups or when the script called for him to hit or cut something with the hook. The last one, the sharp one, clearly couldn’t be used for their dance. The rubber one seemed like the most logical choice, but when they started working on the routine, it kept bending as they moved. Even to a TV audience, it would be obvious that it was fake.

Killian frowned. “Stunts are always edited so you don’t notice that it’s rubber. I guess I didn’t think of that.” He rubbed at the straps underneath his t-shirt. “I’m used to wearing that heavy leather duster and sweating under these straps, but dancing in this is giving me blisters. I hope I still have hair on my chest after this is over.”

“You better,” Emma laughed.

“Why Swan,” Killian grinned, “are you saying you like my chest hair?”

Emma’s face burned even as she swatted him with the back of her hand and rolled her eyes. He’d had to remove his shirt to put the brace on, and the sight of that again hadn’t exactly made the “just friends” thing easy to remember.

Emma let out a long breath as she pushed wisps of hair out of her face. “I guess we’ll have to try the aluminum hook then. The end is blunted, right?”

“Aye,” he told her as he unscrewed the rubber one from the end of his brace, “I won’t hurt you, love.”

He winked at that, and Emma’s traitorous blushing started again. What was her problem? He’d been flirting with her from day one. She should be used to it by now.

Unfortunately, switching hooks didn’t help. If anything, Emma was struggling even more with the choreography. She would have Killian turn a certain direction, but when she went to take his hand, the hook was there instead. She felt like a complete novice as she struggled to figure out turns and holds when Killian, essentially, only had one hand. The longer she struggled, the more frustrated she became.

“Fuck this!” she growled, yanking at her ponytail in frustration as she paced to the far corner of the room. Well, the editing room would have fun bleeping out all her swearing this week.

“Hey,” Killian said gently as he came up behind her. He rested his hand, and his hook, on her shoulders. He was obviously used to the prop that he spent the majority of his days wearing. But Emma wasn’t used to it. “We’ll figure this out, Emma. The way we always do . . . together.”

Emma, who had also been trying so hard all day to hold back from his casual affections, gave up and leaned back against him. He wrapped both arms around her, dropping his face to the crook of her neck. The cool metal of his hook felt odd against her hip.

“Can we call it a day?” she asked wearily.

“Sure,” he mumbled against her hair. Was that a kiss he just brushed to the side of her head?

When they parted ways, Emma wasn’t sure what had her shaken more: her struggles to choreograph this routine, or how natural it had become to be in Killian’s arms.

*******************************************************

The next morning, Emma had only just greeted Killian when her phone buzzed with a message from Regina. Emma’s brow furrowed as she read it.

“Something wrong, Swan?”

Emma shook her head. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just . . . “ she looked up at Killian, then glanced over his shoulder at the camera crew, “they’re sending someone to help us choreograph around the hook?”

Killian’s confused expression mirrored her own. “Who could that be?”

“I don’t know, I mean –“ Emma was interrupted by a knock at the studio door. She glanced at the camera crew again, then at Killian, who shrugged. “Come in?”

The door was flung open and a petite, energetic blonde burst into the room. Rose; Killian’s co-star. He laughed with delight and rushed to embrace her.

“Emma!” Rose squealed, pulling her into an eager hug. When she let her go, Rose winked at Killian. “So, I hear you’re having trouble working around this guy’s hook.”

Emma swallowed down the sudden irritation that had welled up within her. The cameras were rolling, so she plastered on a smile. “Yeah, I’m not used to having to choreograph with just his right hand.”

“Why don’t you show me?” Rose asked eagerly, motioning with her hands for Emma and Killian to partner up.

Emma nodded and stepped into Killian’s hold. She counted out the beats as they went into the opening sequence of the syncopated choreography. The quickstep’s quick-quick-slow rhythm was difficult enough, but when they went into the quarter turn, Emma found herself grabbing for Killian’s hand only to find that it wasn’t there.

“See?” Emma said, pressing both hands to Killian’s chest to stop them both. “If I turn one way, I’m grabbing for the hook, but if I turn the other way, he can’t grab hold of my waist.”

Rose shrugged. “Why can’t you grab his hook?”

Emma shook her head. “What?”

“On Neverland, I hold his hook all the time, like it’s a hand.”

“The aluminum one?” Emma asked.

“Of course,” Rose explained, “the rubber one would bend if I grabbed it. When Hook and Tink danced at that ball in season two, Killian and I did that waltz with the aluminum hook.”

Killian arched a brow at Emma. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, Swan.”

Rose brushed past Emma and grabbed Killian’s arms. Emma hated the way it made her bristle. Rose put Killian’s right hand at her waist, then grabbed his hook and lifted his arm. Her frame was terrible, but she and Killian waltzed around the room in perfect rhythm just like Emma remembered in the episode Rose had referred to. Then Killian lifted Rose’s arm over her head, and the tiny blonde did a tight turn perfectly, still holding on to his hook. Then he spun her out and back in, his hook now at her waist.

“See how he holds it?” Rose showed her. “Whenever the script calls for him to hug me or embrace me, he keeps it sideways like this.”

Emma nodded, and she suddenly felt foolish. “So what you’re saying is I should just choreograph the way I normally do?”

“Well, not necessarily . . . “

Rose stayed with them the rest of the day, and slowly, as time wore on, Emma found she actually enjoyed having her there. Rose and Killian were obviously close, but now that she really paid attention, she could see that it was a very casual and platonic relationship. They teased each other almost like siblings would, and Rose gushed over Emma’s partnership with Killian, calling them “adorable” and “the cutest thing ever.” Rose helped Emma tremendously with the choreography, showing her which side to stand on if she needed to clasp Killian’s opposite hand, and how to execute the dance’s one spinning lift safely. At the end of the day, she and Rose grabbed the other two hooks from the box, and the three of them posed for a selfie with them.

As Emma gathered up her things and stood with her dance bag slung over her shoulder, Rose was next to her with an impish grin on her face. “Can I talk to you for a second now that Killian’s gone?” Rose asked.

Emma glanced over to the corner where the camera crew was packing up their gear. She let out a relieved sigh. “Sure.”

“I don’t mean to overstep my bounds, but I’ve been watching the show . . . ” she hesitated, her brow furrowing.

Emma lifted her hand. “Not you too, Rose! I know everyone talks about our chemistry, but he has chemistry with you, too. Frankly, he seems to have chemistry with everyone.”

Rose shook her head. “Not like with you. And it’s not just when you perform. He’s been . . . different. Happier.” She took Emma’s hands in hers. “He deserves more than shallow women grasping for fame.”

Emma broke eye contact with her, shaking her head. “Rose, I think you’ve misunderstood –“

“No,” she interrupted, “I don’t think I have. You were jealous of that other dancer, Jasmine. You’ve been jealous of me.”

Emma’s head snapped up, her eyes blinking. “That’s ridiculous!”

Rose’s face gentled as she let go of Emma’s hands. “Is it? You care for him, I can see that you do.”

Emma gave her a wry smile. “Is this where you warn me not to break his heart like his fangirls do online?”

Rose shook her head. “I think you’re more worried about your heart. That’s what I wanted to tell you. He’s a good guy, so don’t be afraid to give what you two have a chance.” She gave her another smile, patted her shoulder, and left the room.

Emma groaned and let her dance bag drag the floor as she left the room wearily. Couldn’t the universe just let her protect her heart in peace?

********************************************************

The semi-final episode actually involved two dances, just like the finals would. For this one, they had the people’s choice dance and then a re-do of their lowest scoring dance. They were slated to dance next-to-last for both. They did a re-do of their week three salsa first, getting two tens and a nine from Blue. Killian was definitely better at shaking his hips than he had been when the competition started.

Then they took the floor for their quickstep. Killian was dressed like Captain Hook, only this costume was made of light, stretchy imitation leather instead of the heavy garments he wore on his TV show. Killian also joked that his pirate duster on Neverland wasn’t bedazzled like this one.

The studio audience cheered when Rose showed up in the rehearsal footage. Emma actually smiled as it played; the three of them really had a great time together that day. She glanced over to the studio audience where Rose was sitting in the front. She winked at Emma and gave her a thumbs up. As the package wound to a close, Emma turned to Killian, stepping into his embrace. Her hair was done up in a loose bun and she wore the green tunic dress as Tinkerbell.

The bright, light, and airy piano notes of the Neverland theme began to play, and Emma and Killian began their routine. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was different tonight. She was painfully aware of Rose in the audience; painfully aware of the costumes they both wore. She usually could slip into a role so easily, but tonight she felt like an imposter. The Captain Fairy fandom was in the back of her mind the whole time. How were they receiving this dance? Emma was frustrated with herself when the final notes faded out, realizing she had been stuck in her head the entire time.

Killian put his arm around her and pulled her close as they turned to the judges. The results were a big surprise; for once, Tiana was their toughest critic.

“I don’t know what it was, but I felt a disconnect,” she told them.

In the end, she gave them a nine while Teach and even Blue gave them a ten (for their flawless quickstep technique). Emma’s shoulders slumped, even though Killian told her he was thrilled with the performance. She hated it because she knew who was at fault for the disconnect Tiana had mentioned. Emma could blame no one but herself. With so few dancers left, time was brief, so she didn’t have the luxury of slipping backstage to nurse her wounds. But Killian caught her hand and squeezed it. When she looked up at him, his gaze was soft.

“You can do this, Emma.”

She blinked. “Do what?”

“Anything,” he said huskily, brushing at a stray curl that framed her face, “for I have yet to see you fail.”

She pressed her lips together, trying desperately not to let him see how deeply those words touched her. She was rescued from having to respond when an assistant director barked at them to take their places downstairs before the commercial break ended.

Emma and Killian took their place with the rest of the celebs and their dancers: figure skater Aurora Briar, football player Lance Knight, and finally, Belle. Killian was still in his pirate garb and hook, but he still wrapped his arms tightly around her. Emma leaned back into him, her eyes closed tight. There was still no guarantee they had made it into the finals, and if that lackluster performance had been their last, Emma would kick herself.

“The first couple dancing in the finals is . . .” Marco paused dramatically, “Belle French and her partner Jefferson!”

Belle let out a loud squeal and almost knocked Jefferson over with the force of her hug. Emma smiled up at Killian; they both adored Belle and were happy for her. Honestly, Emma felt that whoever in this group made it into the finals, they would deserve it.

“The next group to make the finals . . . “ this time it was Ashley dragging out the suspense, “Aurora and Sean!”

Sean Herman, her brother David’s best friend since the eighth grade, shouted and lifted his partner off her feet, spinning her around. Sean had been on the show since the fourth season and had never made the finals. David would be thrilled for him.

The lights dimmed in the entire studio, and two spotlights shone down on Emma and Killian on stage left, and Lance and Gwen on stage right. Emma bit her lip and shifted so she could wrap her arms around Killian’s waist. They had been dancing strong all season, but Lance was an NFL football player, and football players had always done extremely well on Dancing on the Stars. Many of them had won the mirror ball.

“The final couple...“ Marco intoned, “performing in the finals...is...“

Emma grasped Killian’s forearm in a vise-like grip. Couldn’t Marco just get to the damn point?

“ ...Killian Jones and Emma Swan!”

Emma felt her knees buckle beneath her, but Killian kept her on her feet as he squeezed her tight. She didn’t know whether to shout for joy or cry. Finally, the mirror ball might actually be hers.

Emma was so excited, she couldn’t help but go on social media before bed that night to see what Killian’s fans were saying about him making the finals. And, she had to confess, she probably was also craving some positive feedback after their lackluster quickstep. Emma was shocked when the buzz online wasn’t about the Neverland dance, or Killian’s hip-shaking in the salsa, or even their place in the finals. No, Killian’s fans were demanding one thing and one thing only.

When are they going to kiss? @piratelover

Kiss already, Captain Swan! @neverlander

I know the disconnect Tiana was talking about. They just need to kiss! @trueloveandpixiedust

Dear Captain Swan, can we please have a kiss in the final? @fairytaledaydreamer

When Emma showed her sister, Elsa just laughed.

“And you were worried his fans would hate you for pretending to be Tinkerbell,” she quipped with a wink.

#cs ff #csbb fic #csbb #modern au #dancing with the stars au #enemies to friends to lovers

[introvertguide]

Tootsie (1982); AFI #69

The film under review is the 1982 comedy Tootsie, directed by Sydney Pollack and starring Dustin Hoffman. The film was nominated for 10 Academy Awards and was also inducted into the National Film Archives by the Library of Congress in 1998. I read over my notes about this film from when I watched it in 2014 and I didn’t think much of the film at the time, but I read Roger Ebert’s review and saw that it has very good Rotten Tomato and Metacritic scores so I figured I was just missing something. I watched it twice over the last couple of days and I think I feel the same as I did before. Bored. Here is a quick plot summary before we get to the breakdown:

SPOILER ALERT!!!

Michael Dorsey (Dustin Hoffman)  is a respected actor, but nobody in New York wants to hire him because he is a perfectionist and difficult to work with. After many months without a job, Michael hears of an opening on the popular daytime soap opera Southwest General from his friend and acting student Sandy Lester (Terri Garr), who tries out for the role of hospital administrator Emily Kimberly. In desperation for work, Michael impersonates a woman and, auditioning under the name "Dorothy Michaels", gets the part. Michael takes the job as a way to raise $8,000 to produce a play, written by his roommate Jeff Slater (Bill Murray), which will star himself and Sandy. Michael plays his character as a feisty feminist, which is not how the part is written, and quickly becomes a national sensation. 

Michael gets into his part a little too much and he finds himself trying on clothes at Sandy’s house. She catches him and he covers up by claiming he wants to have sex with her. Exacerbating matters further, he is attracted to one of his co-stars, Julie Nichols (played by Jessica Lange), a single mother in an unhealthy relationship with the show's amoral, sexist director, Ron Carlisle. At a party, when Michael (as himself) approaches Julie with a pick-up line that she had previously told Dorothy she would be receptive to, she throws a drink in his face. 

Michael becomes close with Julie when he is dressed up as Dorothy and he is invited to a weekend at her father’s house. Michael starts to really fall for Julie, but it is Julie’s father Les (Charles Durning) that falls for Dorothy and even tries to propose. Michael freaks out and goes to his agent George Fields (played by Director Sydney Pollack) to try and get him off of the show. George refuses because he has assisted Michael in getting the part and worries there will be blow back over the deceit. 

Sandy visits Michael, asking why he hasn't answered her calls.  Michael admits he's in love with another woman, and Sandy screams and breaks up with him. The tipping point comes when, due to Dorothy's popularity, the show's producers want to extend her contract for another year. Michael finds a clever way to extricate himself: when the cast is forced by a technical problem to perform an episode live, he improvises a grand speech on camera, pulls off his wig and reveals that he is actually Edward, the character's twin brother who took her place to avenge her. 

The revelation allows everybody a more-or-less graceful way out. Julie, however, is so outraged that she punches him in the stomach once the cameras have stopped rolling, before storming off. Some weeks later, Michael is moving forward with producing Jeff's play. He also gives Les back his ring, and Les tells Michael: "The only reason you're still living is because I never kissed you." Michael later waits for Julie outside the studio. She is reluctant to talk to him, but finally admits she misses Dorothy. Michael tells her, "I was a better man with you as a woman than I ever was with a woman as a man." She forgives him and they walk down the street. The end.

This might seem abrupt, but that is really the ending. There are so many plot lines that were left unexplored, but realistically they weren’t going anywhere so maybe the sudden ending was a benefit. But what happened to Sandy? She was screwed over by Michael for the whole movie and then her fate is left pretty much unresolved. What about the agent? I guess he was disgraced and kicked out of the business? The dad was really OK with being fooled into proposing by a guy who was trying to trick his daughter? The movie is very incomplete. 

A strange almost irony is how bad the score is in this film (very generic 80s busy music) and that the story has recently become a stage play. On the other hand, taking a good premise and stripping it down to just the characters and then adapting it to the stage has worked well with Broadway. 

One virtue of the film is the different approach to portraying gender roles. I was raised in the 80s but I have long since forgotten the idea that a relationship was considered a  joke if the people involved were of the same gender. Gay relationships of the 80s were portrayed on the big and small screen as comical, with the men being flaming and effeminate and the women being butch and mean. This film does not do that. There are some scenes of gay panic, but that is because the characters are being caught up in their lies. The message is to be who you really are and I don’t feel like there is judgment against a particular lifestyle beyond when it is false to the character’s true nature. 

I personally find the premise of this movie much more interesting than the actual film itself. I can imagine that “an actor who crosses gender to earn a part and learns a powerful lesson about gender roles” sounds good and there are a lot of jokes about a man learning the difficulty of being a woman. I also think there is a dangerously close tread towards implying that a man could do a better job being a woman than a woman can. However, it turns out to be more along the lines of women can be incredibly strong if they had the privilege and entitlements that men have. It was very progressive for the time. 

All of the actual female characters are played so weak and it is funny that this is the only place in which the movie actually won an Oscar (Best Supporting Actress for Jessica Lange). Terri Garr is especially weak and neurotic with her character being screwed over throughout the movie. It is really the only character that I have ever seen the actress play, so I don’t know if there was anything else that could have come from her. Jessica Lange finally gains enough confidence to step away from a comfortable but bad relationship, but she ends the film in a strange relationship with a guy that has been lying to her consistently the whole time she has known him. 

I have found as I have researched this film and actually rewatched it a couple of times that I really don’t like this movie beyond the premise and how novel it was for the time. The ending was awkward and the premise gag ran out of steam halfway through the film. So would I recommend it? Not really. The awkward gender bending was done better before in Some Like It Hot (1959) and after in Mrs. Doubtfire (1993), the challenge of switching gender roles was much better in Mr. Mom (1983), and the music was finally made tolerable in Tootsie the Musical. I would not recommend this film since it doesn’t hold up. Should it be on the AFI top 100? No. With movies like Dr. Zhivago dropped off the list, I don’t see why this one stayed on. It is a decent movie but the premise has been done better over and over again so it really does not stand up. At best, it was a reflection of how female roles were changing in society, but at worst it was a slightly funny single joke that ran for 2 hours. Really not something that deserves to be in the ranks of the greatest American movies. 

#tootsie #afi films #introvert #introverts #film critique #movie review #dustin hoffman #Jessica lange #80s #comedies #80s movies #gender roles

[loversdesireinterlude]

Hadestown Appreciation Week: Day 7 - Why You Love Hadestown

So I had to sit and take time to really think on my answer, so that I didn’t end up with either a five page essay or just ‘akjhflsl pretty music, cast hot’, and I think I managed to finally get it down to just four reasons: the concept, the music, the cast, and the production. 

Allow me to elaborate.

1. The Concept When I say the concept, I’m encompassing not just the idea behind the show, but the way it was executed as well. I adore Greek mythology and always have, and musical theater is my Thing, so this combination was like my holy grail. What I absolutely love is the genius of Anais Mitchell taking a very well-known myth, one where most everyone knows the ending already, and she makes it something so compelling and interesting, it still has you entirely invested. And we know the ending!! That’s the thing, she takes a tragedy we all know already and delves into it and brings this myth to life. She breathes personality and depth into these famous characters and its incredible. She gives the characters such agency and great dynamics with each other. The choice to make Hades and Persephone older and jaded? Innovative. The way she develops relationships among the two couples and the parallels she draws between all of them? Incredible. Anais Mitchell is the breath of fresh air that Broadway needed.

2. The Music Need I really elaborate on this? The music is amazing. Its different, its unique, its clever. The Chants alone are a brilliant showcase of the way Anais just makes art, like a modern day Orpheus. And its really amazing how she seems to turn poetry into music, instead of just like, writing a song. The lyrics and wordplay, the harmonies and accompaniment, ugh me @ Anais: your mind.

3. The Cast The. Cast. Is. Amazing. All casts. All of them. The diversity! The talent! The beauty! That’s what really gets me, I think, is that the roles are pretty race-blind, but they seem committed to keeping it diverse and as a person of color, I am so so thankful for this show. And I love that the undertone sort of shifts depending on who is playing who. Like, there are subtle differences when Eurydice is Nabiyah versus Eva, or when Hermes is Chris versus Andre. You can be race-blind all you want with a role, you still can’t separate an actor’s race and the subtle subtext of what that brings to a character. And I love it. Also, yeah, they’re all hot, and I’m not ashamed about my attraction to both Amber and Patrick in particular, fight me.

4. The Production What I mean by this is like, first of all, the female creative team. Anais leads this show as the creative mind behind it, and Rachel Chavkin, bless her, has owned my soul since Great Comet. Second, the way its set, in this kind of American Depression-era time, and the aesthetic that brings. What can I say, I love a good train. I love the set design, the way they break the fourth wall, the way Anais leaves some things really up to interpretation. All the cyclical themes present through the show. It all manages to come together to make this really well-built, all-around fantastic show. 

So, all this just to say, Hadestown is one of the greatest musicals ever, and I love it more than I love myself. Honestly, I could really go on more about why this show is so good and why it works and why we love it, but I’ll end here, concluding that this show is a work of art and needs to run forever, and I wish it all the success in the world.

#hadestown #hadestownweek #i WILL see it and i WILL cry just you wait