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hotvintagepoll · 17 days

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Propaganda

Cyd Charisse (The Bandwagon, Brigadoon, Singin’ in the Rain)—LEGS LEGS LEGS I would sell my soul for the legs of Cyd Charisse - she oozed style and glamour and sex appeal!! And she could DANCE! She was dancing next to the greats - Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire but they are never who you're looking at because why would you when you can look at her. I will only sit through too long ballet breaks for her. If there was any woman who you could call sex on legs it was her. These dances are everything to meeee (she comes in at the minute mark) and this dance too of course is iconic. In the words of Fred Astaire 'When you've danced with Cyd Charisse you stay danced with'

Rosaura Revueltas (Salt of the Earth)—She was a Mexican actress who is best known for starring in salt of the earth, an amazing pro-labor movie made by blacklisted filmmakers. She also starred in the Mexican remake of madchen in uniform, one of the first representations of lesbian romance onscreen. She was really dedicated to making progressive films and was also such an incredible actress and artist I truly believe more people should know about her and her work.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Cyd Charisse:

Arguably the Best female dancer of her time, she supposedly insured her legs for $5 million dollars. Stole the show whenever she had a dance number, even if she went uncredited. Musicals started to go out of fashion so unfortunately she didn't have as many big roles as she should have, but those she did are unforgettable. The Broadway Melody number in Singin' in the Rain - the green dress!

Incredibly, Cyd Charisse only started learning to dance as a rehab exercise to strengthen her body after a childhood bout of polio. She was in high demand as a dance partner, Fred Astaire called her beautiful dynamite and said "When you've danced with her, you stayed danced with". She was one of a few leading ladies to dance with both Astaire and Kelly, declaring them both delicious. Kelly apparently was stronger, while Astaire was more coordinated. She also said her husband would always know who she had been dancing with because Kelly left her bruised, while Astaire didn't leave a mark. She's better known for her dance numbers today, but she was a leading lady in her time! Her Scottish accent in Brigadoon leaves a lot to be desired, but compared to the other actors in the movie, it's almost good. She appeared in The Harvey Girls alongside Judy Garland and Angela Lansbury in her first speaking role, but she really burst onto the scene with Singin' in the Rain and her infamous Broadway Melody Ballet number with Gene Kelly (no one could handle a length of fabric like Cyd Charisse). She was brought in because Debbie Reynolds wasn't really a dancer and Kelly was notoriously a stickler about his Vision. After that she starred opposite Astaire in The Band Wagon, which was a bit of a flop but created some enduringly incredible dance numbers. She went on to star in a number of MGM movies, and was one of the last of the Studio era stars to remain on contract. Since we've got up to 1970, I'm including her opening routine in The Silencers (1966) to show just how long she was making a splash - she's into her 40s here and still a siren:

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and of course, the iconic Broadway Melody Ballet -

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Photos do not do Cyd Charisse justice, unfortunately, because she is at her hottest while dancing, which she was exquisitely good at. Just go watch her first number in Singin' in the Rain, in that green dress; nothing I could say here will be more convincing that that.

She had amazing legs, and she knew how to use them! You probably know her best from the dream sequence in Singin' In The Rain. She was such a stunning dancer, and all her dance scenes are hard to look away from.

Dancing in the Dark clip:

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She's an amazing dancer and my favorite from the period. Here's her and Fred Astaire in the Band Wagon:

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I just like a woman who's there to be really incredibly good at dancing.

One of the most talented female dancers in Hollywood history, but what sets her apart from other competitors for that title is that she...umm...well let's be blunt, she was the dancer who put sex into it. The one who said "Hey, you know that A+ leg tone that naturally develops from doing this for a living? Why don't I let people see that? Like at every opportunity?" She reportedly insured her legs for five million dollars after hitting it big, which just goes to show that fame makes you crazy. It should have been ten million.

She could pirouette in pointes or tear it up in taps. Fred Astaire called her "beautiful dynamite" and wrote, "That Cyd! When you've danced with her you stay danced with." Gene Kelly partnered with her three times. Her legs were (reportedly) insured for $5 million in 1952 ($57.8 million in 2024 dollars)! Everyone in this poll will be iconic, but for raw physical grace, Cyd is up there with the best.

Legs for days, beautiful dancer in the most iconic scenes of Singin in the Rain. She's glorious. As some guys sung to her in It's Always fair weather, 'baby you knock me out!'

No additional propaganda was submitted for Rosaura Revueltas. Please send me some.

#Rosaura Revueltas #cyd charisse #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

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moodymisty · 1 year

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Hi! I am a huge fan of your work and might have just binged all of your TBB fics in preparation for the season 2 premiere 🙈 during my indulgence I read through your kink list and the “helmet stays on” one really got me thinking how the batch (or any clone for that matter, I love them all so much) might use their helmets, maybe as a way to limit their partner’s senses (it seems like a fun combo between dom/sub and an armor kink)

Anyways, whether or not you use this prompt, I am always looking forward to your next fic!! Whatever you are willing to share with us I am more than happy to read 💕 Sorry for the anon, I’m still a little shy about being horny on main lol

Author's note: This has got to be one of the sweetest asks I've ever gotten, I'm so glad you enjoyed my stuff enough to binge it!! (also don't be shy about not wanting to be horny on main, there's no obligation to be. Anon is on for a reason)

But since you mentioned senses, of course the first person I think of is Hunter; And it's been a hot minute since I've done something for him so, why not? I hope this is up your alley!

Relationships: Hunter/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Pre-established relationship, Armor kink, Helmet kink aka "the helmet stays on", Very light Dom/Sub dynamics, Clothed sex, Semi-public sex(supply closet), Quickie, Some light sensory overload on Hunter's part

It wasn’t your idea to stay behind at Cyd’s, not in the slightest. The last mission had run you ragged, and so Hunter had effectively forced you to stay back for this one, and give some time to recover. But you still had to admit- The rest was an incredible luxury that you couldn’t refuse.

Though it had taken well over an hour of tossing and turning to get to sleep at first; You’d grown quite quickly used to the sounds of five other people’s breathing, Wrecker’s snoring, and Tech’s mumbling. Without the unique symphony of the Marauder as a lullaby, it had taken a bit to finally nod off.

When you woke up that first night, it was instantly noticeable how much better your body felt. To have a night without waking up multiple times because of shift changes, or emergencies, and to just actually let your body shut down and recover. But as the days went by that became less noticeable; And instead, a tense worry began to replace it.

It’s hard not to worry about them, especially now that you aren’t beside them. They’ve been barely footsteps from you for so long to have them all this far away for so long is eating at you. Especially Hunter. You miss him, miss the way he’d sometimes sneak into your bunk and lay with you for awhile before everyone else woke up. Or how he’ll sometimes walk behind you and press his face against the top of your head, sneaking a small moment while no one is looking.

At least working around Cyd’s keeps you somewhat busy, and she lets you keep a small portion of the tips in exchange for keeping the bar running smoothly. It’s something;

Especially considering the last time you all ran out of credits you had to sell Echo.

It’s late tonight; The bar is empty after the last patron drank his weight and stumbled out, falling onto the sidewalk before recovering enough to toddle on home. Now you’re just cleaning glasses, counting tips and trying to keep busy. It’s tedious, mindless work, but it keeps your hands and head busy enough.

Busy enough until Cyd suddenly shouts from the back, having apparently seen something of note on one of the security cameras.

“Hey! The Dream Team is back!” Cyd emerges from the backroom counting something in her hand, while she jerks her head in the direction of the front.

“Keep your man busy while I count my credits, will you?”

They enter through the front mere seconds after she finishes speaking, Wrecker holding the desired loot in both arms. He starts moving to drop it in Cyd’s room in the back, while you dart past him and yell:

“Hunter!”

You instantly run for him, until you reach him and suddenly stop; Trying to brush it off and just smile.

“Oh, so how come only he gets the welcome party!?”

Wrecker, halfway to the backroom scoffs and crosses his arms, before Echo starts pushing him and Tech away. You had turned around, looking at them embarrassed.

“Lets just give them a bit.”

Tech goes his own way, nose deep in his datapad while Wrecker, Echo, and Omega all shuffle into one of the bar’s booths. You stay close to Hunter however, standing with only a short distance between each of your chests still only a few steps from the entryway.

It’s well been established for awhile now that there is absolutely something going on between you and Hunter, but everyone has pretty much elected to act as if there isn’t. Or at least, that they can’t see it. You don’t do anything that would ever hint at you being romantic within sight of the others, but the looks you share and the undertones are so obvious that everyone had eventually realized.

The whole thing is, complicated. For far more reasons that just your current predicament.

Both of you finally move away from the entry, moving to sit on one of the bar stools. Hunter takes the one right next to you, sitting his helmet on the bar and turning your way.

“I’m sure you’re happy everyone managed to not get injured.” Hunter’s giving a tiny smirk, watching as you roll your eyes at him.

“I wasn’t upset you guys got hurt because it was inconvenient, I was upset because I don’t like seeing you guys get hurt.” You don’t like seeing any of them deal with pain, no matter how hard they all try and shrug it off. You’re just as guilty of the same, though as the person treating others, you’ll always have an excuse for why it doesn’t apply to yourself. You jerk a head in the direction of the booth that the rest of the batch is sitting at; Tech having returned from where ever and is now sitting next to Wrecker.

“At least for them. For you I don’t mind as much, because then I can kiss it better.” Hunter coughs, looking away for a moment and shaking his head. You can see the way his lips twitch as if he wants to say something, but can’t quite figure out how to put it.

“You…” He shakes his head, letting you see a small smirk. “Glad to hear I’ll be getting your special beside manner.”

Sometimes it catches him off guard some of the things you say, especially so casually.

In his moment of looking away from you, your eyes instead turn focus onto his helmet; Which is staring back at you from on the bar top, tinted visor reflecting the scene it’s staring at. When you reach a hand out to grab it Hunter watches, as you hold it hovering over your lap. It looks so normal and lifeless here, but there’s something about when it’s on, that it almost seems like it holds emotion; No matter how silly it sounds.

“I never noticed that you copied your tattoo on your helmet…”

You hold it in your hands, thumb brushing over the scuffed paint. The paint isn’t solid; Patches of the helmets original color peak through the brushed streaks of lighter grey. It gives his helmet a ghostly look, which suits him.

In fact, suits him very well.

It’s a complete spur of the moment decision that has you sliding off the barstool, and grabbing Hunter by the hand. He follows and while confused, takes your lead, walking through the bar and towards the back. Hopefully before anyone notices.

They do of course, but Echo is smart enough to keep anyone from questioning your antics.

Hunter watches as you pull him in the direction of the supply closet, closing the door and pushing something in front of it- a crate. It’s small and compact in here, but it’s quiet. And it’s private; Which is the main appeal.

And it’s here you take quick use of that, as the moment the door is fully shut you step towards Hunter and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his lips to yours for but a moment.

“Now that we’re alone; Did everything go well, Sargent?”

Well you’re certainly playing with fire now, he knows that well.

“Everyone’s on one piece, and we got what we needed.” He knows that isn’t really what you’re asking, but it’s amusing to watch you look at him like this anyways. You know that if you want him you can just ask, but it’s far more fun to play around. Especially after them being gone for admittedly not all that long; But after being around him every moment, it feels like forever.

In his quick glance over you he can see you’re still holding his helmet in your hands, having carried it with you in your rush. It’s pressing against your chest, as you look down at it.

Hunter is watching you intently, the way your fingers look so gentle over his helmet. Before he can say anything however you lean up, and quickly plop the helmet on his head.

“You look good with it on.” His chest is pressing against your own, unyielding, unmovable plastoid armor against your skin. He hasn’t taken one bit of armor off since they returned, he hasn’t had the chance to. He can hear your heart pumping faster in your chest, wanton as you look up at him. His senses never lie, no matter how much you can try to hide it.

He’s used it to his advantage with you, but it’s almost proven to be his weakness. There’s been times where you’ve overwhelmed his senses so much that he can barely stand it; Both intentional and not. In theory he could cut it off if it ever felt like too much, but he doesn’t.

You know that part of him likes it, and the feeling of being so close but unable to fulfill his senses that drives him borderline insane.

You can feel his hands sliding down your back, moving to wrap around your hips as your thighs spread apart enough to let him in. Instantly he steps between them, pressing his body tight against yours. Once you’re as close as you can one of his hands comes up to palm your chest through your shirt, though he’s unable to free them due to the nature of your outfit. At least not easily, though part of him more than enjoys the way your push into him, silently pleading for more.

He won’t give it to you that easy, not after so many times you’ve done him in the same.

He feels your nipple harden through the fabric of his glove, while your pupils dilate and skin flushes hotter. One of your hands even moves to grasp at his wrist and press it harder onto you, as your breath leaves a fog on his armor.

“You don’t even know how much I’ve missed you, Hunter.”

He can smell you want him, even though his helmet it’s so obvious it overwhelms his senses.

When you attempt to work around your outfit and take off your top, Hunter stops you; And you look up to see your reflection in the tinted visor of his helmet.

“Turn around.”

There’s no way to describe the way your cunt clenches at the way he says those words, distorted by his helmet in a way that makes it sound even more erotic.

Lifting up off the crate you’d been sitting on your turn around, attempting to quickly undo your belt in the process and abandoning the idea of undoing your top. While doing so, you swear you can hear his breathing through his helmet, ragged and already coming undone. It only worsens as he sees your pants pull down and wrap around your knees, the fabric of your underwear contrasting with the color of your skin.

It almost is too much, the way he feels so hot and tight underneath his armor and his own breaths echo inside his helmet.

His fingers are frantic as he peels away the only thing impeding him, hearing his groinplate clank on the ground. He may want to take off more, but the sight of you whining for him keeps him from doing so.

He grinds his clothed cock against you, the clear outline pressing against your ass. You quickly demand more, aching and empty.

“Hunter, please… Come on.” He stills, and ignores the way you attempt to demand him continue.

“You don’t get to say that. Not after what you did on the Marauder.”

That makes you smile, remembering how much you had teased him until he snapped. You feel the way he finally moves the fabric of his body glove aside just enough to free his cock, feeling it lay against your cunt. He feels so hot it almost makes you jolt, body tighten as he grinds against you.

Only a short while later does he slowly attempt to press the tip of his cock inside of you, listening to the way you gasp. Your toes curl in your boots, and you can’t control the way you suddenly jolt when the cold plastoid of his thigh armor brushes against the bare skin of you ass. Hunter abruptly stops, having felt your body stiffen.

“You ok?” He asks when he feels you jolt and tighten around him, his hands around your hips loosening their grip.

“Yeah; Your armor is so cold…”

It feels good, but it was just a shock to have it suddenly against your skin. But now knowing he has the green light, he slowly pulls part way out of you before slowly thrusting forward and pulling your hips enough to meet him halfway.

The feeling of so many sounds echoing in his helmet has his senses on overdrive, not even considering how loud everything might be in the room itself. It isn’t as if you’re being particularly quiet; Moaning his name as he slams his cock into you. At least the door is made of metal, and it’s unlike any of quieter sounds will pierce it.

Apart from perhaps the shaky moan you let out as he presses against a bundle of nerves deep inside your cunt, enough to have you almost seeing stars.

“Shit,”

His helmets distorts his voice, making it seem almost more gritted, angrier than normal. It amplifies how tense he sounds, almost as much as his body as you feel his armor hit the back of your thighs as he fucks you.

But Gods do you want to turn around and kiss him, feel his skin on you so badly but he won’t let you; Depriving you of the sensation. Even if the unforgiving coldness of his armor feels so good too. It’s enough to have you speak up, hissing through your teeth for more.

“Fuck, Hunter… You can go harder…”

His fingers tighten around your hips, watching the way your top has bunched around the middle of your back.

“What, all the sudden you’re open to pleas of mercy?” Your throat tightens.

Of course now is the time he decides to get you back a bit for torturing his senses while stuck in the Marauder, and he’d pleaded for you to stop. You hadn’t listened, and now it seems he’s going to attempt to let you feel just a fraction of what you’d done to him.

It seems unfair; Unable to kiss him or touch his skin while he fucks you. Though you’d done worse to him, a man with senses multitudes stronger than your own.

“Do you, fuck… Do you want an apology?”

The edges of his thigh armor press against the skin of your ass and will more than likely leave marks, unforgiving against your much softer skin.

“No. I want you to feel what it’s like to not get what you want.”

His thrusts slow until he’s only grinding against you, feeling the way your cunt leaks all over his cock. Your thighs keep tensing as you attempt to press against him, feeling so, so close but having him deny you. You can’t feel the heat of his skin, the roughness of his hands or his hair against your cheek; As he looms over your body with a black, grey and red silhouette.

He looks almost like a ghost, when you turn to look at him for just a moment. The dim, mostly broken lights of the tiny storage closet only further the illusion.

He swears he can almost hear his teeth grind against each other when he cums, filling you as you grind against him for more. His visor is becoming fogged from the amount of his hot breath, too much for the filters to try and fight against. It’s never fogged before; But granted, he’s never fucked you while he’s had it on.

He feels you cum around him, gripping the crate your bent over so tight as you intake a breath and hold it long enough he almost tells you to breath. Your fingers grip the crate your bent over with such a tight grip it almost is turning your knuckles white, seeing stars as he fucks you slowly through it all.

Gods, you missed him. Even in the short time he was gone.

When he slowly pulls out of you, you take the time to turn and sit on your bottom instead; Legs partly spread and sore.

The entire state of you looking like this almost as Hunter’s blood pumping again.

“So, can I kiss you now?” You look up at him, face red and lips ever so slightly parted. He takes off his helmet and leans down, pressing a hand against the wall behind you to support himself as he kisses you. It feels ten times more intense after being denied for so long, you can’t help the way your hands quickly around the back of his neck fingers slipping into his hair.

“I missed you too, you know.”

He mumbles it against your lips and feels the way you smile back, giving a satisfied laugh.

“Then don’t leave me behind again? Ok?”

#mywriting #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #hunter x reader #Hunter/Reader #reader insert

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bamboobrat · 1 year

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succession s4 e5 recap: swedish elon and his logan roy tribute band

time is a flat circle and we are back to ken hyping himself listening to rap, driving to the office.

anyone feeling nostalgic yet?

he is immediately caught off guard by the fact that roman and shiv are already there.

also he seems like the worst boss ever.

i really don't like ken when he is not hitting rock bottom.

(there is a movie about a sleeping robot in a cave that takes up too much time in this episode. let's not get into all that)

the old guard checks up on the CE-bros before their trip to norway.

matchy matchy<3

turns out mattson wants them all there (why wouldn't he?) so THE GANG IS GOING TO NORWAY! lets bleed the swede!*

*as a norwegian, i approve this message

mortality has set into team krank, as they put on compression socks before the flight.

krank is not here to have fun. krank has no young mistress to impress. krank is serious.

shiv has noticed ken's leaks to the media from last week because she is boss. it's the comeback we've been waiting for.

but most importantly, she is waging a very important war against tom and his stupid new sneakers:

the sibs say they can kill tom for her. that's brotherly love.

hugo is not having a good time.

i am tho.

gerri rallies the troops by shitting on europeans.

yes mommy tell me i'm weak because i have free healthcare! sit on my face

gerri for CEO. always.

they accurately depict what it is like driving in norway:

(this is why i don't have my licence)

the gang arrives in the motherland and it's beautiful, but rainy (so authentic) and are all like WHY THESE WOOD CABINS SO SMALL?!

ironic because jeremy lives in fucking denmark.

anyway, whatever this is:

I DO NOT APPROVE!

the trip up to mount olympus is interrupted by con saying he can send a picture of their dead dad to the group chat.

nobody wants to see it.

also, marcia is putting logan in a kilt like the fucking bay city rollers and con had to cancel a room full of working class whites in cleveland. the sacrifice.

they give con carte blanche for the whole funeral thing, which is probably a terrible decision.

the funeral is going to be one big campaign rally, i'm serious.

the others have to settle for a nice lil scandi brunch spread. what a hard life.

i don't say this often, but i would be hugo in this scenario, piling onto my plate like it's nobody's business.

karolina has a cute lesbian moment.

she says something in swedish at some point, but let me tell you, i understand swedish and i didn't even pick up on it. no shade to dag, but lol.

hugo doesn't understand how ski jumping works.

i thank the writers for putting this joke in there, even if literally no one other than random scandi people will get it.

it's like the opposite of danny boyle's the beach<3 give back to the community<3

roman enters negotiations and puts his fingers in the caviar.

you think i didn't notice? after all this time, you must know i notice everything.

the CE-bros make the village elders proud, as mattson offers 187 per share as long as he gets ATN.

also, gerri does a second take looking back at roman. these are the crumbs i am destined to live on, i guess. roman doesn't want to give up ATN tho, probably because 1) his dad wanted ATN 2) his dad told him he wouldn't make it at pierce and belongs at ATN 3) he is, somehow, the most rational of the siblings right now????

speaking of rational: how are we feeling about the shiv/mattson potential here? i honestly have zero objections.

shiv is like fuck yeah, sell ATN, that shit is toxic.

agreed, but who gave mencken an open line to ATN-meetings? sounds like something logan told cyd to do during one of those late night calls.

"even dad had a line" rings true zero percent. pass.

get rid of atn. word is, they don't even have tucker carlson anymore? just keep a sweater, much less racist.

we get some important leo dicap representation:

and greg is the bringer of all that is exposition, telling us there is a kill list with 8 to 9 names, ever evolving.

now, as most readers of these recaps would know, i would like to avoid spending any time on greg whatsoever (made even more poignant by the recent rumors about nick), however, this must be one of the best exchanges of dialogue ever made:

greg: da fam shiv: da fuck

that's all.

tom tells the swedes that americans don't care about the rest of the world and it's funny because it's true.

and alex being like "you're ALL related?!"

i see you, succession writers, i see you.

mattson calls waystar a parts shop and has a good take on right wing media:

"i dont think news for angry, old men works"

instead, he opts for bloomberg grey: simple, cheap, huge, ikea'd to fuck. i do love ikea.

he calls the sibs a tribute band which is harsh. even for a scandi, it's fucking harsh.

anyway, SAUNA! SAUNA! SAUNA!

GERRI. IN. SAUNA! (chant with me)

i will never forget what the succession writers took from me.

krank out here just chilling.

i've never shipped anyone more.

we are introduced to ebba. i can tell i'd have more to say on this in any other situation, but it just feels weird (all norwegian know each other, i guess).

anyone else here for the shiv/mattson dynamic?

i'm sorry, i kind of ship it????

ken wants to tank the deal and roman immediately calls him out on his destructive bullshit:

and then immediately caves.

"i think we are good at running the ship" they say after doing it for approximately 24 hours.

i wish i had their confidence.

also, pinky can't dance, according to ken, so they keep shiv out. meanwhile, she gets cozy with lukas, who asks her about her marriage (bad) and tells her he sends liters of blood to ebba (also bad).

shiv shows us why she is paid the big bucks for political advice:

we don't see the end of their night, so i'm just going to assume they fucked. because she's worth it.

also, talking up gerri and karolina? girlies stick together<3

big bi vibes here. huge. idc if she's pregnant and drinking.

meanwhile, the CE-bros use greg to leak that the negotiations are souring. why would you trust greg with anything?

in an attempt to fuck the deal, the CE-bros show a terrible film to the swedish team, as if being scandi doesn't mean you've sat through enough terrible cinema already....

we get the strangest fight in tv history:

lol @ us for thinking this was an important moment for the two of them and then it's a fight about white sneakers and fat earlobes.

i sure hope shiv fucked lukas.

roman receives a photo of his dead dad and it doesn't really put him in the right place to negotiate with mattson:

ouch.

leave it to kieran to make an emmy-worthy speech across from alex skarsgaard peeing.

the plan was: tank the deal, but in a subtle way. what they did: try and tank the deal, but in a not very subtle way. did the deal tank: no.

i hope you understand.

the question is, if a deal collapses in the woods and no one hears it, is it a SEC violation?

mattson ends up offering 192 per share. karl jizzes his pants.

shiv gives the little spelunker tom a lil treat, telling him to fire cyd.

then she asks him out?

and ignores him again because she is taking a call from mattson?

idk my dudes, but i'm into this shiv comeback.

mattson seems happy and flirty and i sure as shit hope this goes somewhere.

as long as it doesn't involve liters of frozen blood.

i have a feeling it will be all good vibes until he learns about her pregnancy. there's always something rotten in the state of denmark (or norway, or sweden, but it's all the same).

the waystar-team receives the kill list after the offer and it's very stressful for a few people who made themselves suffer through a session in the sauna:

not on the kill list: karolina gerri tom because shiv fucking did the thing!!

oh, and karl and frank are on the kill list, but i think they are just fine.

maybe the real treasure was the compression socks we made along the way.

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scotianostra · 1 month

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On March 13th 1947, the musical Brigadoon opened at the Ziegfeld Theatre, in New York City.

Brigadoon, a musical by Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe that tells the story of a mysterious Scottish village that appears for only one day every hundred years, though to the villagers, the passing of each century seems no longer than one night.

Two American tourists, Tommy and Jeff, lost in the Scottish Highlands, stumble upon Brigadoon. The schoolmaster, a Mr. Lundie, explains to them that two hundred years ago, the local parish pastor prayed to God to have Brigadoon disappear, only to reappear for one day every 100 years, to protect the village from being changed by the outside world. None of the people of Brigadoon can be permitted to leave the town or it will disappear forever.

By now, Tommy is falling in love with one of the villagers, Fiona. Tommy asks Mr. Lundie if an outsider could be permitted to stay. Mr. Lundie replies, “A stranger can stay if he loves someone here – not jus’ Brigadoon, mind ye, but someone in Brigadoon – enough to want to give up everythin’ an’ stay with that one person. Which is how it should be. ‘Cause after all, lad, if he love someone deeply, anythin’ is possible.”

Tommy has fears and doubts about the strangeness of the situation, and he and Jeff go back to New York. But Tommy can’t forget Fiona. Months later, the two men travel again to the spot where Brigadoon was; as expected, there’s nothing there. Tommy laments, “Why do people have to lose things to find out what they really mean?” Just as he and Jeff turn to leave, they hear the music again (“Brigadoon”), and Mr. Lundie appears. Tommy walks across the bridge to him, as Mr. Lundie explains: “You shouldna be too surprised, lad. I told ye when ye love someone deeply, anythin’ is possible. Even miracles.” Tommy waves goodbye to Jeff, who stares incredulously as Tommy and Mr. Lundie disappear into the mist.

The wonderful music includes “Brigadoon,” “I’ll Go Home with Bonnie Jean,” “The Heather on the Hill,” and “Almost Like Being in Love"

The original theatrical musical ran for 581 performances. It starred David Brooks, Marion Bell, Pamela Britton, and Lee Sullivan. In 1949, Brigadoon opened at the West End theatre and ran for 685 performances; many revivals have followed. AMost of us will know Brigadoon from the 1954 film version which starred Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse, and a 1966 television version starred Robert Goulet and Peter Falk, yes Columbo himself!

I can’t speak for the theatre version, but I looked through the cast of Brigadoon, and naturally there are no Scots in the movie, we have Americans and English, we even have a Welshman and a Northern Irishman but, like the village itself the Scots are missing!

#scotland #scottish #history #usa #broadway #theatre #film #brigadoon

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nightshadehoney · 1 year

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I hate to speak a tomgreg betrayal theory into being, but I this one is unfortunately plausible to me.

The previews lead me to believe that the siblings find out that Logan’s firings were going to be much more extensive than just Cyd and Gerri and that that information is in Tom’s Logistics folder (which I think is obviously about killing Cyd regardless). I can’t really see Greg just deleting something Tom tells him to without looking at it and saving it for himself in case its useful, so I think its possible he gives this information to the siblings in attempt to get into their good graces. It’s not particularly smart as the siblings don’t necessarily have any sense of gratefulness to people who have helped them makes moves (see: Kendall and the papers) but Greg is a little dumb and I think he would try something to protect himself if he believes Tom can’t.

How much of a betrayal this would be if it happened is unclear. It’s not something that could send Tom to jail, but I’m doubtful a sibling/Tom alliance is in the cards, so it would put them on opposite sides. What it might mean for Tom would depend on how this information would be utilized to begin with.

I’m not really a “Greg doesn’t really experience empathy and is 100% out for himself" person, even though I can see where that interpretation comes from. My read on Greg in general is that he has a sense of right and wrong and genuinely wants to do the former rather than the latter, but just not to extent that he is willing to really hurt himself to do it. His “corruption” is that he feels progressively less guilty about making these self-interested moves that he makes. Still, I don’t see Greg doing anything with the intent to damage Tom; I think his ideal scenario is one where he can protect both of their positions. He’s expressed reluctance to hurt Tom before. This season makes it pretty undeniable that Greg genuinely likes being around Tom, so that reluctance is probably partially emotional and not just a strategic attempt to not burn bridges with Tom. But, I think Greg would betray Tom but only in the right circumstances; it’s a balancing act between the benefit/harm that something could do to Greg and the affection he has for Tom and his desire for their relationship to be good. The more a move could hurt Tom, the higher the stakes would have to be for Greg for him to consider making it. Basically, he’d do just about anything to Tom in order to not have to go to prison, but wouldn’t intentionally annihilate Tom’s career or put him at risk for criminal prosecution for some moderate professional benefit (or maybe even a large professional benefit). He has that much love and loyalty at least.

#I don't like it but also I want credit for calling it if it happens #this turned from a simple speculation into thoughts on tomgreg betrayal as a whole oh well #hbo succession #succession #succession season 4 #succession spoilers #succession predictions #tom wambsgans #tomgreg #greg hirsch #succession posting

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kimwexlers-brownhair · 1 year

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Oh back to Yellowsuccess! I think after the plane crash Logan would become obsessive trying to arrange a rescue until enough time passed for him to "cut his losses" and shut down, and things would get even nastier between him and Kendall because of how it seems that he's brushing off the disappearance of his supposed favorite child like it's nothing and Kendall takes out his own feelings of guilt for being a shitty brother onto him. He's also the first to recognize that Shiv is probably dead while Roman is the last, coming up with elaborate scenarios in his head for what she might be doing and maybe for a while believing he's got some kind of psychic connection with her. And then of course things gets Very weird when it turns out she's been alive after all.

Logan is not an idealist. He never claimed to be.

Look, life's not a walk in the fucking park. It's a rollercoaster that goes off the rails onto the crowd below. If you’re lucky, you scramble over the crushed bodies beneath you out of the wrecked train, bleeding all over the cotton candy squeezed in a dead fist. It's a shitstorm.

Terrible things happen. People die.

You can't make it to the soccer match that gets your daughter's team into Nationals. There have been too many whispers about cruises lately, so you need to be at that board meeting. To make up for it, you hire a few nonunion mechanics to spruce up one of your recently decommissioned private planes so your daughter and her teammates can fly to Seattle in a little luxury. The thing's no hunk of junk, just a little smaller and more delicate than the top of the line, newest models. It's not like they're flying to fucking Hong Kong. Compared to the far flung cities Logan regularly flies to, a quick trip over Canada from New York to Seattle is a mere hop, skip, and a jump. It'll be fine.

But no, actually, because the fucking plane crashes somewhere in the Canadian rockies.

Terrible things happen. People die.

But Siobhan --

Siobhan's not People. Siobhan is his.

It is nearly four in the afternoon. Logan skims over another damn contract about some obnoxious port problem off the coast of Brazil. ATN drones on in the background about Dubya's daring new Medicare cuts. Outside the glass doors he suddenly hears hurried feet, rushed whispers. He glances up and a PA is darting here, another darting there, and here comes Gerri looking pale as if she's about to lose her lunch. Frank and Karl follow, looking about the same. The new press girl Karolina trails them, speaking rapidly into her phone.

"What," he barks as they hussle in. God, don't tell him there's another NRPI situation he needs to sign away discreetly while deliberatey avoiding the written details. On top of this fucking Brazil thing --

But no, Gerri's pallor, Frank's stony expression --

"Logan," Gerri's voice is weaker than he's ever heard it, but as always she's keeping it together. "Logan, it's Shiv."

It doesn't occur to him. Not yet. But Gerri's face.

"What about her?"

Her tongue darts over her lips quickly and he's never seen her like this.

"The plane" --

Karolina cuts in, shifting her phone away from her mouth. "It's leaked. I've given Cyd the go-ahead so ATN can announce it first."

Gerri closes her eyes.

Fear, fear Logan is mostly able to keep at bay, rushes in like a flood from the creek Rose drowned herself in --

"Someone fucking tell me right now or you're all fired!"

Before they answer, from the TV comes, "We're getting word now that a private plane carrying a high school girls' soccer team to Nationals in Seattle has lost contact with airport authorities after being overtaken by a storm surge over the Canadian Rockies. It's early hours yet, but authorities fear the plane went down --"

Water, rushing water all up and down inside him, plummeting.

Nothing's quite real anymore.

Rose....

But Siobhan is not Rose. Siobhan is a scrappy fighter like him, a survivor. She has Ewan's annoying habit of disagreeing with him. She has her mother's acid tongue, his mother's grit. She has none of Rose's vulnerability. They don't even look that much alike outside of the coloring --well, okay, that's not strictly true, they look a little bit alike, okay, now that Logan thinks about it, they look a lot alike -- but they're not the same.

No. Shiv's tough. Shiv's tough. She's a survivor. She's his whip-smart Pinky with the wicked smile, his little hell-raiser confidant. His girl.

Logan doesn't believe in any of that woo wee woo, cosmic bullshit about feeling whether someone close to you is alive or not, but...Logan would know.

Shiv is his blood, his self. Add Shiv and her brothers up and they equal Logan. Ken, Rome, and yes, Connor -- sometimes they make up the parts Logan loathes about himself. But not Shiv.

So he would know if she was -- he would feel it, no matter how much he disavows that spiritual shit.

He doesn't feel it, not now. He didn't feel this coming at all. Shiv is alive. Shiv is alive.

Shiv is alive, so he has to act, now.

"Call DC," he says to no one in particular and so that means everyone. "Tell Cheney we need a search party. Top of the line military OP types, no bleeding heart volunteer morons. If he flinches, tell him we've been sitting on that story about the Chump-in-Chief falling off the wagon in Key West. Tell Laird to pucker up and suck off whatever Canadian officials we need to get full access beyond the border. Who's overseeing this? Get me on the line with them, now."

This is different from Rose because he is in control now. Total control.

Evening. The door opens and Roman is there in the study. His eyes are more haunted and frightened than Ken can ever remember them being, and Rome often wore that look in his childhood.

They embrace.

"Like, what the fuck, man? What the fuck," Roman asks into his shoulder.

Ken gives him a squeeze. "It's going to be okay, Rome. Shiv's too much of a bitch to go down that way."

Roman hiccups a laugh. "Yeah, she probably pushed the pilots out of the way and landed the thing herself. She's going to get those poor bastards fired."

They don't separate until Connor arrives. He wraps them both in his arms.

"Hey, guys. Whatever happens, it will be okay."

Both secretly resent him saying that, since it implies something might happen.

The door opens and here comes their father. He whispers a few words in Gerri's direction and for once shuts her and the rest out to address them.

Sill, when he speaks, his voice is as impersonal as the one he uses when trying to boost morale amongst hired underlings. Almost light, airy.

The only difference is his eyes. They're glassy. Unfocused. He doesn't meet any of their gazes.

He claps, starts. "Boys, uh, glad you're here. Glad you're here. Thank you for coming. Uh, it's all good. All good. We've got search parties setting off now. And we're getting word they've picked up a signal from the plane's transmittor. So it won't take long now."

He hasn't once said even her name.

Still, not just for Logan, but for Roman, Kendall says, "Yeah. Yeah. Of course. It's, like, impossible for a plane to completely go missing these days. They'll find the signal and pick them up."

"Right." The briefest of nods from his father, a rare sign of acknowledgement, thanks. He takes in a breath and finally brings her up. "Your sister's tough, now. She's tough. She's going to be just fine. Isn't she, Connor?"

Connor's sitting on the back of the sofa, and his face is grim. Still he nods. "Sure, Pa. Sure."

Roman's too much in shock to notice what they're doing. It's for him. With Shiv gone, Roman is the baby. It's a show for him.

The youngest son says nothing, just gives a weak smile behind the fingers covering his face. His shoulders are hunched upward like a dog mincing away from the whip.

"Uh-huh. Okay." Logan's eyes wander over the room. If they didn't know him, they'd think he was a confused old man who doesn't quite remember where he is. But Dad's not old, they all tell themselves. He's not. And he knows what he's doing. He's just a little...unsettled. "Thank you, boys. Thank you."

"Uh, dad," Kendall clears his throat. "Is there...is there anything I - we can do right now? Like, does the search party need volunteers?"

"Huh? Oh, no, son. We've got top of the line -- it's taken care of. "

"Okay. How about, how about Mom? Does - she knows, right? Or --"

"Ah? Oh, your mother. Uh, yes, I'm sure she knows by now. Someone must have...I mean, if you want to call her..."

"Sure, dad. Sure. I can do that."

Logan's gaze finally rests on Kendall, and there's true warmth there. "Thank you, Kenny. Okay, boys, I'll keep you posted." Then, without another word or glance, he leaves the boys behind him, their haunted eyes on his retreating back.

It's about five in the morning when Logan's bedside phone starts ringing. He's only been in bed for three hours, and been asleep for just about one. He'd just been dreaming of a campfire, and girls were laughing. Shiv's face is covered in soot but she's smiling, eyes sparkling as she knocks shoulders with one of her teammates --

However, he's awake instantly and answers. "What? Siobhan?"

Gerri. Her voice is very quiet, which means there's bad news.

Logan listens.

His veins are on fire. He's sitting on the edge of the bed and the darkness of the room turns red. "What? How? How can they lose the fucking signal? Those boxes are supposed to be goddamn indestructible, aren't they?...I don't fucking care that they're doing their best, Gerri, I need them to...well, don't they fucking know by now where the signal was coming from before it went away? Didn't they have jets going there?...oh, don't give me that garbage about the storm, I fucking know about the storm, that's how the plane -- interference? Fucking...what the fuck good are those fucking boxes if they can't give you the correct location through a fucking storm? Don't give me any shit about interference, Gerri!"

He listens a few moments more, breath chugging out of his nostrils like a bull ready to charge. "Well, you tell Cheney and the air force that I don't give a fuck. Tell them to keep pushing. This isn't some run of the mill commercial flight with some hodunk assholes from Iowa flying to Florida for vacation, this is my daughter. In fact, there are a lot of fucking important daughters on that plane. Tell that reptile that if he wants his braindead idiot reelected, I better not hear one fucking word about the operation slowing down. Fucking got that, Ger?"

He slams the phone down. His nerves are open and raw, and the darkness is too close and Shiv is out there, she's out there and the signal is gone.

From below, Richard, giving the morning's instructions to staff, hears a roar and the phone crash against Logan's bedroom wall.

Eleven-and-a-half months later, Kendall has to see it on the news like everyone else.

He doesn't give Richard any time to warn Logan before he bursts into his father's home office. His father is not at his desk but sitting on the couch holding a scotch, staring at nothing.

"What the fuck, Dad? What is this? You're fucking calling off the search?"

His father doesn't move, doesn't look at him. "It's been almost a year, Kendall." His voice is a thousand years old.

"So? That's it? We're done? You're not gonna fucking..."

"Not gonna fucking what, Kendall?" At last his father turns to face him, and his glazed eyes are even older than his voice. "We've done everything. Searched everywhere in that damn wilderness." His eyes are on the amber liquid in his glass. "Nothing."

"W-well," Ken's stammer is back. "We-we-we can"--

"Kendall," his voice is sharp, commanding. "It's done. There's no going back. Your sister..." Kendall must be rocking on his feet, because it looks like his father is swaying. "Your sister is gone." His voice cracks at gone.

But Kendall won't hear it. "Come on. Come on, Dad. It's not like you to give up like that. We"--

"The shareholders aren't going to want anymore money going to a search party that isn't finding anything."

"So that's what it all comes down to? Fucking money? Dad? Again? That's all that matters to you, now even?"

He sees the storm cloud gathering in his father's face. "We can't keep throwing resources" --

"Throwing resources? That's what you call funding the search party to find your fucking daughter? Your alleged favorite?"

"Don't fucking push me, son."

"No, this is -- wait." Ken's eyes cast about the room. "What...where?" He cranes his head all around, checking every end table, every surface. "Dad, where..." his eyes focus back on his father. "Dad, where are her pictures?"

Logan says nothing, stares into nothing, his face saying nothing. The only horror is in his wide glazed eyes.

Kendall points to the hutch against the wall. "The picture of her and Rome as kids? Her yearbook picture on your desk? The team on the wall? Where...where the fuck are they, Dad? Where did you put them?"

Logan's voice is as low as it is ever capable of being. "They're in her room. Which is locked."

Ken is too numb for a second, but then the pain and anger burst out. "In her room? Locked away? Like she never even fucking existed? Jesus fucking Christ, Dad"--

Logan is all at once on his feet, the drink slammed down on the coffee table. "And what the fuck have you been doing, Kendall? Hm? What have you been doing to find your sister? All this time, playing with your dick in your overpriced dorm room at that Ivy League dump instead of joining the search party?"

Kendall doesn't know whether to laugh or scream. "You told me not to volunteer, Dad. You told me not to interrupt my education. You said I wouldn't know what I was doing and I'd only get in the way"--

Logan's red face is inches in front of his. "Oh, you needed my permission, hm? My permission to go out and find your baby sister?"

"That's not fair" --

"GO ON. FUCK OFF. Your sister is gone, Kendall, and no amount of mewling about her pictures is going to bring her back. So, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE AND STOP WASTING ANY MORE OF MY GODDAMN TIME."

Logan turns away and marches over to his desk. His back is to Kendall, but Ken sees his arm go up over his face. Blocking everything out.

A stab of love. "Dad, I" --

"Go on, Kendall. Go on. Go and see to your brother. I can't right now. I need...I need some time."

Roman's sitting on the stairs when Kendall comes out. He's been home since everything started, "for Dad", he says. As if Logan has noticed at all. He's insisted throughout that Kendall stay at Harvard, but he's never given a serious shit about what Roman does.

"Is...is it true? He's called off the search party?"

"Yeah, Rome. Yeah, it's true."

"But why?" His voice breaks. He's trembling. "Why would he do that?"

Ken feels empty, like a clockwork man. He parrots his father. "It's been close to a year, Roman."

"So?" Roman is on his feet, arms wrapped around his slim body. He's been losing more and more weight recently. "That doesn't mean anything. If...if they're close to water, if there's game, they can still be..."

"Roman." Kendall closes his eyes, breathes. "Roman, she's gone."

A jolt shakes Roman's body. "Oh, fuck you, Kendall. You don't know that."

"Rome" --

"You don't know that. Anything could have happened!"

"We would have heard by now."

"Not necessarily! There's a lot of fucking wilderness out there."

"Right, so the chances of them making it this long"--

He stops short as Roman suddenly shoves him hard in the chest.

"Shut up! Just shut the fuck up, man! You don't know shit!"

"Hey, hey, Roman" --

"No! Fuck you! What, they teach you about surviving in the woods in your fucking Harvard business classes?" Another shove. "You're just fucking useless."

Kendall can't take it and he spits back. "Oh, yeah? Well, at least I'm not delusional."

"I'm not delusional."

"Yes, you are. This whole time you've never even considered that she might be" --

"Because"-- Roman cuts himself off and turns away, hands on the back of his head.

Kendall frowns. "Because what, Rome?" His shoulders slump. "Not because of your dreams. Bro, please don't tell me that."

Rome's arms are crossed again, still turned away from his brother. "Fine, I won't," he mumbles.

"They're just dreams, Roman," Kendall says for about the millionth time.

They started soon after the plane went missing. Shiv almost burning up on the crashed plane, but Roman tore off the seat belt so she could escape. Shiv happily splashing her friends in a lake they just discovered. A creepy cabin in the woods. A dark-haired girl wailing over a frozen body as the first snows fell.

Roman would never meet Ken's eyes when telling him, usually as they sat on his bed in the evening. He'd stare at his bedspread and say, "I don't know, they just feel really...real. Like I'm actually in front of her. Sometimes she sees me and gets really shocked but we..talk and stuff."

Ken never said much in reply.

He didn't want to say he'd been having the same dreams.

And now, he just won't put up with it. "You don't have some kind of psychic connection with her, okay? Like, you're not even twins, you're Irish twins." Born barely a year apart. Logan liked to throw the term around because he knew it bothered their old-English mother who deep down carried an ancient bigotry against the Irish like the rest of her family.

Roman finally faces him. "Yeah, I fucking know that, okay? But they feel more like visions than dreams"--

Kendall now shoves him hard, because he just had a flash of his own dream from last night, of Shiv stumbling in the snow and sniffling. She looked so relieved when she saw Kendall standing there in the cold, ready to help her up.

Another shove, and Roman whimpers. "You're fucking delusional, Roman. She's gone. She's dead, all right? She's fucking dead."

He doesn't wait to take in his brother's tears. He storms out of the house, pushing past Richard.

Roman collapses on the steps.

Logan can hear his youngest boy's sobs through the closed door. He's relieved. They're covering the choking sounds he himself is making. He's slouched over the window seat, clutching the curtains.

He can't stop it now, tears cloud everything.

Just last night he was sitting by Siobhan on the bank of that frozen lake again. She was wrapped up in that patchwork coat made out of bear and deer skins. He could see scars on her face. That wolf nightmare was true. His arm was around her, and he was telling her stories about how he and Ewan used to ice fish.

A little over nine months later, the call comes. Crash site found.

Survivors found.

#yellowsuccess #yellowjackets #succession #shiv roy #logan roy #kendall roy #roman roy #connor roy #gerri kellman #rose roy

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morethanwonderful · 1 year

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Ok so the whole thing of this episode (4x1) is that Tom and Logan "won" the end of last season and got everything they wanted business-wise, and all it's done is make them even more lonely and miserable.

Everything's been going smoothly for Logan in the past few months. He's got the Gojo deal all lined up. At the beginning of the episode he thought he had Pierce. And yet he was still miserable. He hates his birthday party and leaves to go on a walk with Colin and philosophize at him (without actually letting Colin speak). He misses his kids enough for Kerry to try and fix it, but he's incapable of saying it out loud. He tries to get his sycophants to roast him because he misses the family's banter. He calls Cyd in the middle of the night to yell at her because even ATN, the crown jewel achievement of his empire, fucking sucks when you actually sit down and watch it.

Logan is the king who has nothing.

And in a less intensely obvious way, it's the same for Tom. He's finally high enough in Waystar that he's in with Logan even if him and Shiv split. He's in the inner circle. And he's even got Greg! Greg is finally treating him like a friend rather than somebody to be scared of, and he's started talking sex at Tom all the time like Tom used to do to Greg.

But Tom is also miserable. Winning the game at the end of s3 lost him his wife, and he finally has Greg, but Greg is annoying as hell. He spends the whole episode cringing and pouting, because it turns out the inner circle and his wife's cousin's fruity friendship aren't actually enough to make him happy.

#the winners take it all but the losers can at least take solace in each other's company #while the winners are inescapably lonely #succession #tom wambsgans #logan roy #succession spoilers #successionposting #tom wambsgans my beloved #logan roy my beloathed #english major hours

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attheresturant · 5 days

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also! i can fix him is in the top 5 🏆 sexiest songs she’s ever made (sonically) and i stand by that

#cyd speaks #ttpd

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shcherbatskya · 1 year

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the video upload of lana del ray’s dangerous girl that starts off with “she was bad — she was dangerous. i wouldn’t trust her any farther than i could throw her, but she was my kind of woman” is SO funny do you know that’s from the bandwagon and that movie is so funny because that part makes no sense it’s a show within a show within a show…

#NOT complaining i do love cyd charisse ….#samael speaks

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hefellfordean · 1 year

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uhhh i wrote a tomgreg fic to cope with that episode...

read it on ao3

who do you turn to?

He’s actually surprised that Shiv asks him to join her in the car. He hasn’t seen her since she asked for the divorce and they spent one last, painful night together. There’s just enough love still between them that he doesn’t like to see her hurting like this. There's enough resentment that he wishes she would just leave him alone in his own grief and fear.

The car starts smoothly and the driver begins to steer them away from the tarmac and the plane where he’d been trapped with Frank and Karl and the body of Logan Roy. Beside him, Shiv sniffles and he reaches out to comfort her – almost on instinct. His hand lands on her knee and she pulls away, automatically, like that’s her instinct.

“Sorry,” she says, but she doesn’t look at him. Instead, she turns and gazes out the window like she can pretend that way that her lip isn’t trembling.

Tom sighs and glances at his phone. He has a slew of texts from Greg, updating him on Cyd’s behaviour and whereabouts, interspersed with messages asking if he’s okay and how he’s feeling. There’s also one from his mom: Greg called and told us about Logan, hope you’re okay, sweetie!

“Are those all from, Greg?” Shiv asks, startling him. She juts her chin towards his phone which is vibrating with another incoming text.

Tom nods. “Uh… yeah. Most of them.” Shiv scoffs, shaking her head. “What?” Tom asks, wondering if she’s going to bring up the Disgusting Brothers thing again.

She shrugs. “I don’t know, Tom. I guess I never really understood what you saw in that leech.”

A sharp breath escapes him. “Leech is a strong word. He’s part of the family, isn’t he? Why shouldn’t he ask for a leg up?”

“Oh yeah, sure. Why not?” Shiv says patronisingly. “Jesus Tom, he’s not actually family. Not like me and Ken, and Rome.”

“Or Connor,” Tom reminds her somewhat spitefully.

She throws him a biting look. “Yeah, or Con. Anyway, I hope you’ve prepped your little minion for the fact that now my dad isn’t around, he’ll be on his way out.”

“Believe me, Shiv, I’m not under any illusions about how long either me or Greg will be around now that Logan is gone.”

Instead of reassurance of his position, Shiv just offers him a bland smile – like he’s some nameless underling and not her soon-to-be ex-husband. His phone rings and he picks it up without even looking at who it is, just glad to not have to speak to Shiv anymore.

“Hey, it’s me,” Greg’s voice says from the phone Tom is pressing to his ear.

“Hey,” Tom says and he can feel himself relaxing just from speaking to him. “What’s up, we’re on our way into the office now.”

“You are?” Greg asks, surprise colouring his voice. “I mean, that’s good. I just… really wanted to check up on you. See if you’re all right. Are you?”

“Yeah. Not really,” Tom says, aware of Shiv pretending not to be listening to his side of the conversation. “Shiv and I will be in soon though. Depends on traffic.”

“You’re with Shiv?”

“Yeah, not my decision really. I felt bad.”

Greg sighs in commiseration. “Oh. Do you want me to meet you in your office? Before you meet with the board and everyone?”

Tom hesitates, torn between seeming unbothered and the fact that he just spent an hour in the air with the corpse of his father-in-law. “Yeah,” he says eventually, voice cracking a little. “If you could, that would be… yeah, please.”

“Yeah, of course,” Greg says. “I’ll see you soon, babe.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Bye,” Tom mumbles, trying not to colour at the endearment and praying to everything that Shiv’s hearing wasn’t sharp enough to pick it up.

This thing between him and Greg isn’t that new but they’re trying to keep it as private as possible – and Shiv is the last person Tom needs to know, especially if they’re going to be going into divorce proceedings soon.

“Was that Greg?” Shiv asks, her eyes narrowed in distrust.

Tom nods, staring straight ahead at the leather of the passenger seat in front of him. “Yeah.”

“What did he want?”

He shrugs. “Nothing, just checking in, I guess.”

Shiv scoffs, but when Tom glances over at her, she’s staring at him with a calculating look in her eyes. He quickly turns back, stomach doing summersaults and she laughs. “Jesus Christ.”

“What?” he asks, busying himself with his phone so as not to look at her.

“Oh my God…” Shiv pauses and then laughs again in disbelief. “You’re fucking him? Are you fucking my cousin, Tom?”

A burning flush rises on Tom’s neck and travels up to his face. “It’s not… We’re not fucking.”

“But you’re what? Dating? Going steady?” Shiv taunts. “You know he’s going to drop you as soon as you’re of no use to him anymore?”

“What, like you did?” Tom shoots back and Shiv sucks in a sharp breath. “Why does it matter to you?” he sighs. “Why do you care?”

“What? What do you mean why?” she sputters.

“Why?” he repeats again. “You don’t care about me anymore, right? You don’t want me anymore – if you ever did – why shouldn’t I… Why shouldn’t I get to be happy for once?” Maybe it’s cruel, saying these things to her less than an hour after her dad died, but a small, spiteful part of him wants to hurt her. “Why are you the only one who’s allowed to have love, Siobhan? Why is it always you who gets to do what they want? All I wanted from our entire fucking marriage was for you to love me. But you didn’t. But he does.”

There are tears stinging his eyes and he exhales shakily as Shiv stares at him, spots of colour high on her cheeks.

“He loves you?” she says slowly, like she can’t quite believe what she’s saying.

“He does. He… we’re happy, Shiv. I want you to be happy, why can’t you want the same for me?”

Shiv sniffs and shakes her head. “I do. I do… But this… This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. This isn’t how things were supposed to go, Tom! We were supposed to be happy, and I was supposed to get Waystar, and my dad is supposed to be alive!”

Her tears finally get the better of her and she lets out a loud sob, turning away from Tom and covering her mouth with her hand. Tom reaches out hesitantly, settling his hand on her shoulder and this time she doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t turn around again so they just stay like that: Shiv crying into her hand and Tom keeping his on her shoulder.

They’re less than five minutes away from the Waystar building when Shiv finally stops looking out the window and faces him again. Tom offers her a tissue, which she uses to wipe at the make-up under her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I didn’t… That wasn’t the time -”

A loud sniff interrupts him. “I don’t think there’s ever a time to tell your ex-wife you’re fucking her cousin,” Shiv says with a wet laugh.

“I’m not...” Tom starts but then decides it’s not important. “Yeah. I know. Are you going to be okay?”

Shiv shrugs as they pull into the underground car park. “Sure. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Tom nods, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Yeah.” She stays motionless in her seat. “Shiv?”

“What, Tom?”

“Why… why did you want me here?”

He looks up from his nervously twisting hands and Shiv offers him a weak smile. “I don’t know,” she says. “I guess I thought… We used to be able to comfort each other.”

“Yeah, yeah we did,” Tom says quietly. “Bye, Shiv.”

She doesn’t say anything, just nods as he opens the door and slides out of the car. He swipes his way into the elevator, mashing the button to his floor so hard his finger hurts for most of the ride up to the top of the building.

The top floor is an unholy mess of ringing phones and scurrying secretaries and Tom wordlessly moves through the frantic mess of employees to the office he is still afforded here even though he’s usually at ATN.

The blinds are down, but the lights are on and Tom knows that Greg must be waiting in there for him. He has his hand on the door when someone calls his name.

“Tom,” the person calls again and there’s Stewy, looking about as ruffled as Tom has ever seen him, striding towards him. He’s still impeccably dressed of course, in a dark maroon suit, but his eyes are dark with worry and there are deep lines around his mouth.

“Stewy,” Tom says tiredly. “Hi. You heard?”

Stewy nods, dislodging one of his perfectly styled curls. “Obviously. Everyone in the whole fucking world has heard by now.”

“Right… Well, I don’t know if there’s anything I can help you with because I’m not on the board,” Tom says but Stewy interrupts him with a wave of his hand.

“It’s not the board. It’s… have you seen Ken?” he asks and his voice is laced with genuine concern.

“Yeah,” Tom says. “I saw him at the airstrip.”

Stewy sounds a little desperate when he asks: “How was he?”

Tom shrugs. “His dad died, man. He seemed pretty together though. He should be on his way in.”

“Right, okay. Thanks.” Stewy is gone before Tom can process he’s leaving.

With a deep sigh, Tom lets himself into his office. Greg is sprawled on the couch but scrambles to his feet when Tom enters.

“Hey,” Tom says quietly, locking the door and ensuring all the blinds are down again. He’s barely turned around again before Greg has his arms around him. “Hey, honey,” he says again dumbly, returning the embrace.

Greg kisses the top of his head and disentangles himself just enough from Tom to lead them both over to the sofa. “How are you?” Greg asks into Tom’s hair, as Tom lets himself slump against Greg, letting the other man hold him up.

“I… I don’t know,” he says. “He’s gone and… without him I don’t know where I stand.”

He feels Greg nod, chin moving against the top of his head. “We’ll be okay, Tom. We will.”

Embarrassingly, Tom feels some tears slide down his face, dripping off the end of his nose and onto Greg’s shirt. “You, ah, you should probably start looking for a new person to latch onto,” he tells Greg, his voice thick. “I won’t be much use to you now he’s gone.”

“Tom…” Greg’s grip on him tightens painfully. “You’re not – I’m not with you for what you do for me. You know that right?”

“Sure,” Tom says. Because it’s true. He does know. He trusts Greg more than he probably should, loves him more than he ever thought he would. And he usually manages to believe Greg when he tells him he loves him too. “I know. It’s just in the car… Shiv said –“

“Whatever she said, she’s wrong,” Greg cuts him off. “She doesn’t know you and she definitely doesn’t know me. She… she wouldn’t even speak to me at the wedding - how could she know what I feel? But I love you. I really do.”

“I love you too,” Tom says, sitting up so he can kiss Greg, even though his face is wet and he’s still sort of crying.

Greg cradles his face and smooths his thumbs over Tom’s cheekbones, under his eyes where the wetness has gathered. “I called Grandpa Ewan,” he tells Tom.

Tom turns his head into Greg’s hand, kissing his palm. “How did he take it?” he asks into Greg’s skin.

A gusty sigh escapes Greg. “I don’t know. He’s sad, I think. He said something about how Logan’s passing is the end of the perpetration of his empire of evil, but then he said he was coming down to New York. He had a complicated relationship with Uncle Logan.”

“Didn’t we all?” Tom mumbles and lets Greg kiss him again.

They reposition themselves so that Greg is pressed more firmly into the corner of the couch, Tom curled against him, hands resting on Greg’s waist, under his jacket where Tom can feel the heat of his skin. An exhausted silence settles between them and Tom allows his eyes to slip shut. Greg rubs little circles into the back of Tom’s neck.

“Was it bad?” Greg asks eventually, his voice hesitant and somehow sounding much younger. “Being on the plane when he… when it happened.”

“I heard his ribs breaking,” Tom says numbly. “When they were doing CPR. They have to break them, to be able to push down far enough. But… I heard it. I heard it, Greg. And I had to…”

He trails off and Greg kisses his head, still holding him securely against his body.

“I had to drag him out of there,” Tom whispers. “He collapsed in the bathroom and they opened the door but the attendants… they couldn’t lift him. And Karl and Karolina and Frank couldn't… so I had to. He wasn’t breathing, I could feel it. I think he was gone already but I had to drag him out so they could work on him.”

“Oh, Tom,” Greg says, so softly that Tom barely hears him. He sounds like wants to say more but both of their phones start buzzing at the same time. “Hello?” Greg answers his phone. “Hi Frank, yeah he’s here. Okay, yeah. Yeah, we’re on our way.”

“What did he want?” Tom asks, staring at Karl’s name on his phone which is still ringing.

“They want all the executives in for a meeting before the board convenes,” Greg says and Tom stands with a groan, beginning the arduous process of straightening his suit and putting himself back together.

“Come on,” he gestures to the door and then reaches for Greg’s hands. “We need to go.”

Greg takes his hand and squeezes it gently. “Are you going to be okay?”

Tom takes a moment to consider everything that has happened in the last day, everything he’ll be facing in the coming days. “I have you, right?” he asks.

Taking a step closer, Greg nods, ducking his head to look Tom in the eyes. “Yeah. Of course you do.”

“Then I will be,” Tom says and kisses him. “I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.” There’s a small smile on Greg’s face. “Me too.”

#succession #succession spoilers #tomgreg #tomshiv #tom wambsgans #greg hirsch #shiv roy #4.03 #connor's wedding

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lamphous · 3 months

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no "more than one option" you must pick the one you feel most speaks to you

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hotvintagepoll · 3 days

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Propaganda

Mbissine Thérèse Diop (Black Girl)—She’s a Senegalese actress known for starring in Black Girl, one of the first African films to receive international attention/acclaim. So much of the movie relies on her ability to convey her character’s sense of isolation/loneliness, she’s so amazing, I really wish she had acted more. However, she just recently appeared in the film Cuties!

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Cyd Charisse:

youtube

and of course, the iconic Broadway Melody Ballet -

youtube

Legs for days, beautiful dancer in the most iconic scenes of Singin in the Rain. She's glorious. As some guys sung to her in It's Always fair weather, 'baby you knock me out!'

Dancing in the Dark clip:

youtube

She's an amazing dancer and my favorite from the period. Here's her and Fred Astaire in the Band Wagon:

youtube

I just like a woman who's there to be really incredibly good at dancing.

Mbissine Thérèse Diop:

#Mbissine Thérèse Diop #cyd charisse #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4 #Youtube

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