#also i love ms faust

[plsleafmelon]

OK WHO THE HOLY FUCK IS JUN AND WHY IS HE DECIMATING MY TEAM SO FUCKING HARD IN MDH

all my sinners do is breathe in his direction and he goes so trigger happy like jfc the moment i see someone boutta clash w him i go full defense mode like u just see that whole bar full of evades yeah thats me fighting him

[art-blogge]

FGO/PM Mirror-World

Master Candidate number 48. The young man stood in the hallway of Chaldea, almost pouting, having been kicked out of orientation by the Ms. Director. He'd barely gotten to meet one of the other candidates before passing out, and he was being punished for it. That wasn't how things were supposed to go for his first day, but something about it also felt oddly right. The Flow, as he called it, called for him to go elsewhere. The other candidate- What was their name? Dante?- Had suggested he go lay down for a while with a sneer, so he may as well. He could always catch up on the orientation later.

He'd barely gotten to meet Doctor Garnet before alarms blared. Central Command had caught fire, and the Doctor had already run off. Then and there, the young candidate decided to go with him. The Flow be damned. People needed help!

There! In the rubble, Dante's body!

He tried his best to push it off of them, but it was no use. Their head was probably crushed, but they were still moving. As the computer continued to read off scripts, he grabbed Dante's hand. He could at least be there for them, even as everything went black.

--

He heard a clock in his ear, yet didn't. He heard words, but no voice.

<"Wake up! Do I use the official title?? Master Vergilius?? Wake up before I kill you!">

That woke him up quickly.

"What?"

Dante had a bright red clock for a head with flames completely dissimilar to the fires surrounding them. He forgot what they looked like before, but it wasn't that! The ticking was new, too.

<"Uhm. Sorry, I don't know where that came from!">

They rubbed their neck and turned their entire head to look at the ground. They hadn't been in combat garb earlier… Just lab gear. And were they being… Nicer than before?

<"Please work with me! We have threats coming in!">

--

According to Dante, they had fused with a Servant at the last moment, but they didn't recall much prior to that. In exchange for their memory, they'd been granted the power of a Servant. Servants needed a Master to survive, and they'd chosen him for their Master.

Him, a Master… A real, proper Master! The things he could change as a Master were countless, to say the least!

--

They survived, and he was the last Master alive. The fate of the City was on him, now. Him, and the rest of the staff. Doctor Garnet was promoted to Temporary Director, there being almost no one else alive. Despite his cowardice and inexperience, he had the makings of a good leader.

There was Caster Lapis, who he hadn't met before this point. She was brutally honest with him, and he liked that. She was now Second-in-Command, despite being a Servant.

And then there was Dante, who had been following him around like a lost puppy since they'd gotten back. There was nothing anyone was able to do about the memory loss- That'd been their own decision- But they seemed to retain faculties just fine despite the clock.

The Flow didn't stop. It would be followed until it ended.

----

"We're going to settle this now, Dragon Witch!" Ruler Faust cried.

"Shut up! Let's fight!" yelled Faust Alter, "Will despair win, or will hope win? Will murderous intent win, or will pity win? Let's see if you can surpass me, Me who gave up everything!"

Hope would win, of course. Vergilius was certain of that, and Dante resolutely stood by his side. They would win. The Flow continued on."

----

Are you going to stand in my way?" the opposition named Jia Huan calmly asked, staring Vergilius straight in the eyes.

"That's why we're here."

"I'll stand in your way as well," the still-living Hong Lu agreed, brandishing his spear. "The world is brimming with beauty. Flowers, songs, jade, love… And you'd destroy it all? Isn't that wasteful?"

Dante was still by his side, chained shield at the ready. They would win. The Flow continued on.

----

The enemy mage, the crazed Captain Ahab, had overwritten her last crewmate with the Identity of a Demon, and it now towered over them all with its hundreds of eyes on it's pallid body. Queequeg was no more, replaced with the monstrosity of the sea.

"If it can be hit, it can be defeated!," Captain Ishmael (Rider) declared, reloading her pistol. She could see it's heart, and she knew that it was her true target- Not the pathetic mage that summoned it.

"Come, Dante! This is our last battle together!"

She clapped her free hand on Dante's armored shoulder, a wide grin on her face.

"This is it! Be brave! Laugh those fears away! "

"Let's go, Dante!" Vergilius announced, pointing at their enemies.

<"Yes, Master! Commencing correction!">

They would win. The Flow continued on.

----

"Something is manifesting!" Dr. Garnet warned, "Something" is coming! It's an unknown phenomenon! Not a Servant manifestation! Unknown? No, it's actually more like a Rayshift? But that's impossible. Only we have that technology!"

Next to Vergilius, Dante shivered despite their coat.

<"Senpai, something's wrong here. I can't detect anything, but I'm freezing.">

Before them, the true enemy approached, wrapped in shadow. Vergil's companions of the Singularity all flinched away… And moments later, a branch had beheaded the nearest one.

Beside them, Saber Gregor cried out and threw himself at the manifestation that had named itself "Solomon". A single entity swatted him aside as easily as one would a fly.

"The only one that interests me here is the one with the clock," Solomon stated plainly. "Out of respect for your pure heart, I'll only bring four of them here with me. Show me everything you can do."

They wouldn't win, but they would survive. The Flow continued on.

----

"Let's get it started," the Effloresced man stated, his scythe at the ready.

"You don't intend to hand over the Bough, do you?" Assassin Yi Sang asked, already knowing the answer. His knife was already prepared for combat.

"Of course not. It's time to harvest the rewards I've rightfully earned. The past will be replaced."

Vergilius didn't need to be told that this was the final battle of the Singularity. Beside him, Dante stood as always.

<"Let's go, Vergil! Bring us victory again!">

They would win. The Flow continued on.

----

"I have this duty to stop you!" yelled out Heathcliff, brandishing the sword that would soon end his life. "As the Heathcliff that will end this accursed cycle! You won't take my Catherine from me, you fake deity twat!"

The opposing Catherine in white simply tilted her head as if she didn't understand. She didn't understand why Heathcliff had tears running down his face, or why she was being opposed. This was for everyone, wasn't it?

"Give me your final orders, Sir Vergilius! Let us end this. No one else should have to go through this."

Vergil looked at the ground briefly, then back to Heathcliff. Neither of them knew that Heathcliff would become a Servant after this by the will of the river deity, but this had to be done.

"If that's what you want to do, we're with you."

<"I'll do anything to help you, my Heathcliff!"> Dante chimed in, holding the burnt Holy Bough like a weapon, <"Our final enemy here is Ever'y Catherine! Let's finish correcting this mansion, Master!">

They would win. The Flow continued on.

----

"From the fiery abyss, I come, and only death do I bring. My name is Ryoshu, and you will be part of my canvas."

"I can't believe this!," Dr. Garnet chimed in from communications, pushing Lapis off screen entirely, "It's able to be killed now! Now, now! Vergilius, now is the time!"

"We've found the weakness!" Lapis announced offscreen, "It's the head! That Abnormality's weak point is in it's head!

"And now that she knows that she is mortal, she is fleeing," Grand Caster Meursault added, the tiniest smile gracing his usually stone-cold face. "Now is the time. This is the last chance we get. The storm is closing in. We can speak later. Prepare to fight."

<"Of course, Sir! This is the final battle of the Seventh Singularity! This is for all our friends who believed in us, and for King Outis! Let's do whatever's necessary to defeat that ALEPH!">

"Of course!"

On the sidelines, Mistress Rodion had finally regained control over her icy underworld. She willingly gave full permission to fight for the first, and possibly last time. Humanity would survive this.

They would win. The Flow continued on.

----

"Be careful, Vergilius! He's right in front of you!" crowed Lapis over the comms, panicked.

"I know," Vergilius responded, watching the false Solomon approach. "Solomon", true name Jumsoon, slowly strode up to him despite the failure of his lab, fully Distorted.

"We've both lost everything here," Vergilius plainly stated, holding Dante's shield at the ready. Garnet had sacrificed himself moments before to foil Hermann's plot, and Dante had been incinerated saving Vergilius' life. He barely had any reason to want to go on, but failing to would be a waste of the sacrifices.

"Everything here has been a waste, yes," Jumsoon agreed, his tail irritibly flicking about.

"I am all that remains here. There's nothing left but for one of us to be hung on the portrait wall, and the other to live. …My sworn enemy. My hatred. My destiny. I want you to witness this. This brief moment is now my story. This brief but precious time has given the creature called Jumsoon true life."

With all he wanted said, Jumsoon Effloresced.

--

Of course he won, and the Flow directed Vergilius to the Rayshift point. He wasn't going to make it-

<"Master, take my hand!!">

They both survived. They had won, and yet… The Flow did not stop.

--

Oh. OH.

--

With one success, a new threat emerged, wiping all progress and the City with it. The only survivors were "The Red-Gaze" Vergilius, Shielder Dante, and a few crew members. All Servants had been wiped away. Lapis had been killed in combat.

She'd predicted this and left a clone of herself to act in her stead, codenamed Charon. Charon's job was to drive New Chaldea's transportation- Named the Mephistopheles by Faust- to clear this new threat.

"This drags," Lancer Rodion complained from her seat, filing her axe.

<"HOW ARE YOU HERE?!"> Dante screamed, jumping so high that they nearly escaped their bandages.

"A bunch of us are," Rodion laughed, gesturing to the door at the back.

As Vergilius threw it open, a bunch of Servants they'd befriended poured out and ganged around him.

"Sir Vergilius! Tis fortunate to see you again!" yelled the Lancer Don Quixote of the second Sub-Singularity. She was so loud he couldn't hear anyone else.

<"You guys made it!!"> Dante cheerfully rang over her, and the Servants started to gang them instead.

Vergilius sighed in relief. Not everything was lost yet. It had come very close, but there was still some hope. They would win. The Flow continued on.

----

It was so, so hard. Millions of people killed just to restore the City they knew. The deaths were on Vergilius' hands. It didn't feel worth it to be a Grand Master with a title anymore. He never wanted this, but the Flow never stopped. He had to, they all had to Sin to get back the world they knew.

Next to him as always, Dante rested their head against his shoulder. They didn't need to speak. Vergilius knew what they were going to say. That they could do it. That everything would be right in the end.

Vergilius was so, so jaded compared to when he'd started, and yet… He knew they were right. It would end eventually. The Flow hadn't stopped, so they would win. They would survive, no matter what.

[imperial-nuisance-rudje]

Finally completed Canto IV and I am VIBRATING

Beating Dongrang really relied on me getting good clash luck early, because this try was more of a slow grind barring the time an attack got through and I had so few attacks available that I had to offer Ishmael as sacrifice (which made the friend N-Sinclair snap, thankfully he decided he wanted Dongrang for the sacrifice and not, like, Hong Lu). Kind of underscores how much I dislike the coinflips, tbh; they're a win harder/lose harder mechanic and while I know ProjMoon is trying to fix that, I genuinely don't think it can be—only having a pair of values is just innately way too swingy until you get to like 4-coin attacks.

It's a shame because the fight itself can be interesting in how you have to carefully juggle what gets through in order to keep everyone available to deal with his fat pile of HP quickly, and the story events are great (the final one made me cry, I did not expect to adore Yi Sang when I started this game), it's just soooo swingy to start and that determines the flow of the rest of the fight unless you super fuck up. Which I would mind less, if he didn't have nearly 2k hp in a game where you generally have to expend resources to do over 50. It's just kind of a mostly one-sided slog.

The bit about Dante being immune to memory manipulation is... interesting. Dante themself is such a big mystery and im not sure how to like, process it, especially with that little scene with Damien(sp?) and the shift of their clock. Also I enjoy that "Dante is rude and mad as hell and Faust is politely eliding that from her translations of them" is a dynamic now, makes Faust much more fun since before she was kind of stuck in the ms. exposition zone.

Yi Sang's big moment though. It was so fucking good. I loved all of it, every second of it was the coolest shit on the planet, I'm so glad he got his wings in the end. I wonder if eventually his base Zayin will be updated to reflect that? Or if he'll get a new base Zayin.

Anyway, super excited to see how ProjMoon handles *checks notes* a beach episode with a magic schoolbus reference in the title

[immacaria]

Ten Books to Know Me Better

Rules: Name 10 (non-ancient) books for people to know you better or that you really like

I was tagged by my dear wife, @galacticstingray, and I want you to know there's only two ancient books here. Bear it with me, okay?

1. Heroes of the Olympus by Rick Riordan

Listen, I love the original series, but Heroes of the Olympus will be always my favourite, no one can convince me otherwise. It's about the found family, about people finding each other caring for others, the family that grows between people from the most different places and cultures and choose to stick together. It's the shared grief, it's the 'You don't have to do this alone. You won't do this alone'.

2. Women that run with the wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estés

This book is simply amazing. The way Ms Estés weaves the stories and analyses it so beautifully, the way she talks about the different aspects of the human mind, specially the woman mind, taking the aspects from the stories she says. I love this book so much, it's also the longest time I have spent reading one book (More than two years, I think)

3. The cat that saved books by Sosuke Natsukawa

I would like to say to everyone that loves books that this book is exactly this. A cat that saves books because he loves them. There's more to the story of course but spoilers, right? I'm physically uncapable of talking about this book without talking about the plot and giving spoilers. Just read it, okay, read it and you will understand.

4. Faust by Goethe

I have read this when I was fourteen/fifteen I think? I remember having to reactions to it: Either bored out of my mind or incredibly interest on what was happening. All I know is that the vibes of this book played a big part on what I am know and most of my interests. I plan to re-read this one and some moment this year and see what I think of it this time.

5. O palhaço e o psicanalista (The clown and the psychoanalyst) by Christian Dunker

This one made me understand so much about listening and truly being open to others, the tiny, almost invisible line of being entirely too serious or too much of a clown. It teached me how to reach that middle and how to use that around me, this book is amazing, I swear and, to any Brazillians out there seeing this, please read this. You won't regret it.

6. From Here to Eternity by Caitlin Doughty

Death and funeral rites, do I need to say more?? I love all of the books by this woman, this woman is amazing and I love her very much. This one was the first one I have read and I'll be forever grateful at my sib for being this one for me.

7. Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by Caitlin Doughty

I told you, anything by this woman is my favourite. Please, read this one as well if you want, it's just her answering a bunch of questions and talking about her travellings and experiences as a mortician.

8. Will My Cat Eat My Eyeballs? by Caitlin Doughty

(Can you see that I will push this agenda on anyone, all the time, anywhere?) Read it, people, it's all amazing

9. The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

For someone who is called a sunshine by most of her friends and incredily crazy by her family, I have a strangely sober taste on books, but sincerely? It's being this "close" to death, it's this desire to deeply know it that makes me able to enjoy life. Death is a place of comfort to me, something that, at the end of my life, will receive me with open arms and a big smile. It will give me coffee and bread and will ~chisme~ together about my life and the ones I left behind until it's time for me to be alive again. This book, in particular, taught me graveyards are not strange or scary, that they can be comforting as well and, as strange as it might be to others, it's freeing to me.

Now, finally, 10. Frankstein by Mary Shelley

It's not a good Macca's favourite books if Frankstein is not there. Frankstein was the first gothic romance I read for real, even before Faust. It were my parents that gave it to me and I devoured it. I remember being so freaking angry at Victor for what he did to Adam, I remember turning to everyone who called Adam Frankstein and saying "His name is Adam and you should remember it", I remember looking at Victor and thinking "You are gay. You are gay and a coward". I remember a lot about this book and I probably should give this book a re-read this year as well because sincerely, it's amazing and it made me who I am today as well.

This should be done a long, long ago, but, eh, life happened. Anyways, I'm tagging @questing-wulfstan, @aquilathefighter, @virgo-dream, @mathomhouse-e, @quillingwords, @academicblorbo, @the-cloudy-dreamer, @pintobordeaux, @arialerendeair and @honeyteacakes. One for each book lmaoo, now you fight to decide which one is yours.

[sappho114]

Hi Hello, info dump to me about the zakus and their weapons please. The gundam wiki is shit when it comes to that kind of info

I absolutely the Zaku line weapons. Specifically the machine guns and heat hawks. The Federation mobile suits and their lightsabers are... cool, I guess, but I like Jedi and the Feddies have a shit aesthetic the Principality of Zeon VERY MUCH being genocidal maniacs and evil. Unfortunately, the Zaku is a sexy piece of machinery.

The first one, the ZXM-1, was basically a glue gun combined with a tommy gun in appearance and there aren't a LOT of models that use it (like model kits and figurines) because it was a prototype 100mm gun if I recall correctly.

One cool thing about all the Zaku machine guns is that they pretty much all (except one or two) have a really cool Lewis Gun/Degtyaryov type design. The last prototype before the One Year War had the drum magazine on the side and it looked goofy, but for the iconic 'zaku machine gun' we all know and love - the M-120A1 - It located the drum to the top. I personally like the ZMP-50D model that has the drum mag offset to the top-right and has a rounded foregrip with a pattern for easier gripping. Both have an adjustable foregrip that pops out so it can be held like a sten gun, but the ZMP-50D was for the MS-06JC Zaku II which was basically a ground infantry model made for desert and jungle environments. The ZMP-50D and that Zaku are my 2nd favorites.

My favorite Zaku, the MS-06FZ Zaku II Kai that was introduced in my favorite OVA Mobile Suit Gundam 0080: War in the Pocket, had the most varied weaponry IMO. Obviously it had the shoulder shield, some grenades, and the signature heat hawk but it used the MMP-80 90MM machine gun which kinda looks like if an MP5 and an MP40 had a baby and was upscaled for mechs. Box magazine, bulky and not as skinny or sci-fi as the ZMP-50D or other disc drum magazine guns. It also had a folding stock and was more or less used like an actual gun some more than most machine guns.

War In the Pocket in general felt different in that way. They used EVERYTHING: the H&L-SB25K Bazooka, a panzerfaust-style single-shot rocket launcher called the Sturm Faust, and the Gouf model's iconic heat sword. On top of that, they also had a unique helmet model called the Fritz, which basically looked like a Stahlhelm but also probably was designed to look vaguely like a samurai helmet as well - however slightly.

It also, to me, is the squattest Zaku and looks the most intimidating as far as the front-line Zaku are concerned - and it was the final iteration that Zeon produced during the One Year War, it was basically the most advanced unit that kinda got pushed to special forces and small-scale use because it only entered use one month before the war ended. But it's the Zaku with the fattest, most sloped chest armor and I love it so much.

tl;dr: i love the mech

[plumsaffron]

mangasstuffcomics and few of their cult of rebloggers are Overly Sensitive Crybaby Dweebs. Y'all pathetic excuses now wanna be incapable of handling joke(s) and looking beyond the cover.

Talk about nearly confirming. Shall I say the same for you? But youwasbored, not me LOL.

Since you or other zoebody wish to call him a like a wanker for chloe and lila.

Allow me to talk about imagining how horny Lila was or the lore of Tomoe and Gabriel's breeding times because iwasbored.

777 and your deluded friend(s) at certain times chat berserk whenever an episode arrives. Maybe you two and friends like role playing. IDK. Though really seem to have a shipping of thirst for Lila and Chloe or more likely a fetish of Tomoe and Gabriel breeding sessions at the expense of Natalie or his wife. Well I guess the least bizarre one is the canon ship. What now? you think Lila is possibly older than she claims?

Nearly 5000 people are likely amused at that Barbie Marinette Post cause it was a J O K E. If they don't get it or care ordecide to think like y'all, that's their problem or desired take.

Something you do, that your homeslices enjoy of you but now ya want to suck at it but now you SEETHE despite that the waifu thing is a joke

Congrats tho

Malding much lol?

Oh no, he's a defender of chloe and lila (in their heads) that means you should assume he'll go watch nsfw of either or wants lila to have a onlyfans and do things imaginatively.

Hmm do y'all feel y'all selves with your lovelustsquare or ships or things y'all try defending too according to that logic?

Now you say he has a love hate relationship towards Lila. Now you think he's responsible for Ms Bustier being pregnant. YOU ATE MARINETTE'S HAIR? That might be why you're so confusing and unconfusing.

Do you realize OnlyFans is not a nsfw only thing. Kind of like ya know TWITTER, REDDIT, or Formally Tumblr aka the other site besides YouTube you use.

GGs ya Marinette emulation.

Aye this is like when deluded beings thinks others are deluded and should be targeted.

Another of you though however, said you weren't gonna take him serious. Now you wanna or think what you said is true now faust?

*Shrugs* So quick to switch up lanes eh?

Aw filthy rat wanna gag and claim he's the worse. WA WA WA.

Poor horn-headed filly, why you mad again? She's not the only one on the hit list. It's just Marinette exists in I think every single episode. It's like asking to be thrown darts at when she has been doing a lot of crap. Yeah things are I guess dying down in S4-5 but that's like saying Lila is the ultimate evil when Hawk Moth done torment for 5 seasons. Would this change if this was the science teacher or both andres being on the main hit list instead?

Joke turns y'alls thoughts obsessive. Ah that sounds familiar to a character we watch. Look, your projectium.

Why does he think? It was a joke. Why don't you think?

People do that. And too far for the most part is relative. Certain ones just wanna claim the line was crossed of a sudden. Make a line then later you make a line at a lower point when still inside the previous line and then whine at them because you changed without their knowledge. Entertained that you say someone's has broccoli diarrhea feet but then you say they smell like SPAM and it's too much.

You could also ignore.

Not all jokes are funny to everyone or one day may be viewed as stale.

I'll just end it with this.

Spoiler he actually doesn't like Lila at all and thinks she's garbage like Marinette and irrelevant. Disappointing hype. I don't agree but hey, you can say a lot of things regarding Lila that even I won't be able to defend or respond against or towards. Hands at characters but mostly master (FUhq) o Zoe Su Lee or NINO are E for Everyone I've been seeing from his videos. He says frozen 2 is Garbage I don't think so. People think Elsa of both movies is garbage, I think considering everything that goes on, she is not. People think Angry Birds 2 Movie is better than 1. I think Angry Birds Movie 2 is lame unlike 1.

Can people change on what they like or dislike in time?

SPUNK YES

Oh yeah he pulled a Lila on you people but be disbelievers like Marinette with Lila in the Sphinx Game. I might take a clip to confirm he was bsing with y'all.

If you are undeterred after viewing the truth or still think that's who he truly is what ya or others claim,

Oh well.

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE

Conclusion jumping has devastating effects. Memes and context ignoring, makes a fandom turn against a character or mark them for mockery forever. Diego Armando, Uchiha Clan (mostly Sasuke outside of Boruto or any that aren't for the malicious state (will of fire)), Princess Elise, Wallflower Blush, Shadow 2005 or The Legendary Super Saiyan in a nutshell and more.

Wait a minute, y'all some complain about Alya Cesaire's failure in the Lila Marinette situation for so long but y'all apparently not seeking too. You say Marinette or Alya should do this but look at you. Even Kagami managed to view both sides. Fictional beings ahead of you :)

Talk about what you wish character to do but viewers of the show can't step forward and find the truth themselves and avoid it or take what one says or sees at face value? You're not suppose to be badly written in this world as you claim ML Characters Are.

Guess what he's right Caline Bustier is a delicious

SEEEEEEEEEEEE

[softfaust]

the first thing [asra x mc]

When asked, you tell people Asra’s face is the first thing you remember upon waking. That’s not strictly true. It’s his voice, first. You don’t know it’s his voice - not yet - but it soothes you. Looking back on it now, you know there was a time where you were halfway to consciousness, unable to open your eyes or do anything to signal your awareness. In the back of your mind, a kindly-faced fox would tell you; soon.

It didn’t make the reality of existing in an endless void any less traumatic, until Asra closed the shop and came upstairs at the end of the day. At first, he was upbeat. Hopeful. You became familiar with the jingle of the little charms on the fringed edges of the curtain-come-door, and the accompanying “Honey, I’m home!”

It was a phrase that brushed against the idea of familiarity, tried at the lock on your memories. Listening to Asra shuffle around the small space calmed something deep inside you; the thump of his boots hitting the floor, the swish of a scarf against the fabric of his shirt, the crinkle of wax paper as he unbundled a fresh loaf of pumpkin bread. The scent of it, too, threatened to trigger something in your mind, but it never quite managed.

“I brought you some bread,” Asra would say, folding himself onto the pillows beside you. “Selasi keeps looking at me with such...pity. I think he assumes I’m imagining you, here in our little shop. He doesn’t know. You’ll show him, though. When you wake up and see him for yourself”

It made you feel sad, deeply and truly. You had no idea you’d died - only that you were inexplicably unconscious, and you’d forgotten everything about this person who spoke to you so fondly. But the sadness, when they spoke, seeping through even the happiest of words - it made you want to scream.

Asra would tear the loaf in half, the rich scent of freshly baked bread enveloping you every time, and he would place half at your bedside. Partly out of routine but partly - as he would later tell you - because he couldn’t bear to eat the full loaf himself. As though he was giving up on you.

(Your half would always begin to harden, after a few days, and still Asra could never bring himself to eat it).

After a while, you realised that any pretence of hope had faded. Now, you could hear the wetness of his voice as he hesitated by the door, assuring you that Faust would remain vigilant whilst he worked.

You didn’t remember Faust, back then, but you felt her presence. Something small and damp - her little tongue - would flick at the tip of your nose and a voice, quiet and sad, would always ask; Awake, friend?

You wanted to scream. Yes! I’m here! But it didn’t work. Not for what felt like an eternity, and in reality was a matter of months.

Asra’s face was the first you saw, but Faust was the one there when you opened your eyes. Everything felt hazy, a little off kilter, and you found yourself looking up at a ceiling filled with tapestries and draping fabrics. Deep pinks and shiny golds, overlapping one another again and again. You couldn’t move, yet, but you could feel your body now. Hands, stiff and still. A throat, dry and useless. A chest, rising and falling, steady and even.

The voice you’d come to know as Faust rang out across the small space, frantic and loud. Something coiled around your hand and squeezed , a little voice repeating Friend? Awake? Listening?

You saw a whip-flash movement, lilac and gold, as she shot out of the room and out of sight. You hadn’t understood, and you’d wanted to cry, until thundering footsteps made their way towards you.

And then, Asra’s face.

Big purple eyes, wide and wet with tears, set into a soft face framed by a halo of white hair. Over and over he’d repeated your name, until his voice was weak with it, until it stopped sounding like a word anymore.

“Can...you hear me?”

Your throat clicks, dry and unused, and you manage a barely audible hum. “Oh. Oh, you can’t speak? Can - do you remember anything?”

You’re surprised, when you try to shake your head and it obeys, just the slightest tilt. His face drops, tears threatening to spill over his lashes. His voice is thick when he finally asks, “do you know who I am?”

You shake your head.

It crushes him. Tears spill freely down his face and he can barely get the words out. “Oh....what have I done- what have I done?”

He lets his forehead drop to your hand, clasped between both of his own, and you want so badly to comfort him. You don’t even know him, not yet, but something fox-shaped tells you that you’re supposed to, and frustration wells in you. Your fingers remember the texture of his hair and you know you must have done this, before. Instead, all you manage is a frustrated hum.

Asra sits up, eyes wide with concern, and then his hands are cradling your face, thumbs brushing away the tears. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

You blink up at him, uselessly, and he quickly lifts his hands into the air - palm up. “I’m sorry, you don’t even know me”

You watch as he straightens up, wipes at the stray tears clinging to his lashes. “I’m Asra. We’re....I’m your - I mean, you’re my....we’re friends! Good friends. We live together!”

You nod in understanding, and he suddenly leans across the bed with one arm extended. When he pulls back, there’s a purple snake coiled around his forearm. “This is Faust, my familiar. She’s your friend, too”

You remember the sensation of Faust squeezing your arms, licking at your nose in fear. It’s difficult, wanting to articulate yourself whilst being utterly trapped inside your own body, but you slowly let your tongue peek out from between dry lips, and Asra lets out a burst of startled laughter.

“Faust, were you giving out kisses?”

Faust wriggles up onto his shoulders. Missed friend. Love friend.

“I know,” says Asra, eyes soft. “Me too, Faust”

Asra’s face is the first thing you remember upon waking, and his voice guides you through every single step of recovery.

Years later, watching him slip through the crowds to reach the bakery, you promise yourself that you’ll never, ever forget it.

[arundolyn]

2 things that could ever improve the design of the specialest girl in fighting games ever: if daisuke hadn't pussed out and made her dress a mouth to match ramlethal's mouth cape, and a bunny tail to go with her bunny ear headpiece. that is all thank u <3

[vesuviannights]

How would the main six react to MC keeping tarantulas as pets? I mean not roaming free, that would be dangerous 😂 Tarantulas stay in their enclosures. Modern AU if you want to ^^

Look I know tarantulas mostly stay in their tanks but I couldn’t help myself I needed to give these babies their freedom!!!!

Main 6 + “Oh, is that a trantulAHHHHHHHH!” 🕷 Portia 🐈

Hmmmm. Will she get in the way of her duties? Is she likely to steal the eggs Portia is using for the pasta? No? Excellent. She can stay, then

Feels neither here nor there about having such an exotic and strange pet. If MC loves their strange friend, then she can too - and so can Pepi! A very curious little kitty, Pepi has many opinions about this friend and will vocalise them accordingly

On multiple occasions, Portia has been caught holding a one-sided conversation with both Pepi and MC’s tarantula, and certainly getting frustrated when Pepi offers a well-timed excited *prrrrrt!* and Lady Legs offers...nothing

Can MC perhaps teach Lady some words? Or noises? Perhaps just to make her footsteps heavier. It’s a little disconcerting when Portia turns back to her bread dough and there’s suddenly a furry leg sticking out from under the cloth that wasn’t there before

Muriel 🐺

You know how you can give a golden retriever an egg to hold in their soft mouths? Yeah

A friend to all creatures, Muriel helps MC select their - yes, their - new family member. Measurements must be taken for a beautiful, hand-crafted enclosure. Crickets and mealworms and mice (if their new friend is large enough) kept in close quarters

Muriel is so happy to hold the tarantula with him while he completes his chores. A small friend to show his new tomato plant? Someone who he can point out cloud formations to when MC has gone to town for supplies? Company while he feeds the chikceNS OH MY GOD

”FRIEND! He is a friend, not FOO-- NO DROP HIM--”

Lucio 👑

Lets make one thing very clear - he’s terrified, but this man’s love for animals far outweighs that terror

The moment he is left alone with them? His babies. His pRINCESSES. Those are his shmoopies now, sorry MC find yourself some other creature to adopt and then promptly have stolen

It’s very much trial-and-error at first. Lucio learns how to build trust with them, and they in turn figure out the strangeness of his left arm, warm just like MC’s (which they quite enjoy walking on) but not the same feel

Their lil feeties are uncertain at first so Lucio is sure to wear a sleeve over that arm until they’re happy to walk on it

Tea. Parties.

“oh I'm sorry mr. clicky did you want another sugared cricket lump?"

Nadia 🌹

Curious at first - though they were common in the tropical climate of Prakra, she has never encountered such a specimen in person, and certainly not one so colourful and, dare she say it...affectionate

Quite often MC will walk into Nadia’s workshop and see their eight-legged pet sitting atop Nadia’s shoulder as she tinkers

She can be observed murmuring to her shoulder-sitting friend, mostly about why her observation proved false or how pleased she is that her latest theory worked

“Hmmm...no you're quite right, my friend. We shall attempt it another way.”

Julian 🥀

Confused. A strange creature to keep as a pet, no? Surely a hound would make a loyal pet, or if MC is after something smaller a snake like Faust. Or perhaps a bird wou--

Ah beans. The bird.

Well. See. This is certainly a problem, isn’t it? Because birds eat spiders, and Malak is a bird (MC cuts in and reminds Julian that Malak is indeed a familiar, but Julian Will Not Have It), and this new friend is a spider, and does MC see the problem here?

It’s fine. Malak will simply have to stay at one end of the room. For protection. With Julian. For further protection.

no other reason

also please warn him when it molts so he knows to book house-call appointments instead of clinic ones

Asra 🔮

The most unlikely person to be terrified of or question exotic pet choices. Has likely had experience with far stranger pets in his travels, and is sure to keep the shop at a temperate 24C for when Ms. Legs is about

Overall he’s just having a really great time. This is a magician with a snek on one shoulder and an eight-legged ball of fuzz on the other

Faust is also quite accepting of her new shoulder pal, though at first things were off to a rocky start. Witness reports claim she may or may not have attemped to eat friend on first sight

It’s fine don’t worry about it

“Friend! HUG!”

“FAUST NO--”

**

🍑 Requesting | Masterlist | My Ao3 | Buy me a ko-fi?

[beyondconfessor]

Principle Decisions [17/?]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Zelda Spellman/Lilith

Summary: “You’re my handmaiden,” Lilith reminded, “Now do your job before I need to properly punish you.”

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.

It was coming up to Yule, and with the coming weekend, Zelda made a trip to the city with her family, as per tradition, and ended up shopping in stores that Greendale could only dream of having. Around midday, the family parted to do their Christmas shopping for each other, and Zelda found herself drifting towards a lingerie store.

She looked at the familiar lace and silks that she usually wore, and then to the more modern lingerie, she found Lilith was fond of wearing before she noticed the store’s, so-called, boutique section.

The store was a familiar favourite of Zelda, one she was well versed in enough to know her size for mail-delivery order to Greendale. But that didn’t stop her from curiously examining the leather and latex lingerie. She wasn’t sure how she would look in it, but with Yule coming, it seemed an opportunity for her to explore a new set of lingerie.

The saleswoman enquired once if she needed any assistance, and then left her alone. It left Zelda in peace to flick through the sheer material, the bodysuits and under bust corsets, looking for something that she felt inspired by.

Or rather, that she felt Lilith would feel inspired by when she saw it.

Her eyes roamed the store, before settling on a particular set she liked the looked of, and then, finally, happy with her choice, she took the items to the front desk, presented her credit card and purchased it with a smug feeling. A part of her wanted to take it home and dress in the lingerie to take a photo for Lilith––she could only imagine the woman’s expression––before she decided that, no, she didn’t want to imagine her face, she wanted to see it.

The choice was packed away discreetly in tissue paper, and then gently placed into a bag for her.

When she met up with the rest of the family for their long-standing tradition of junk food from the food court, she found their eyes curiously looking to her bags as she sat down at a table to discuss their purchases.

“Ooh,” Hilda commented, as she pointed to the lingerie bag, “That looks fancy, purchase anything for anyone in particular?”

“For myself,” Zelda assured.

“Well, you certainly seem happy. I’m just saying if Mary…or anyone else…has anything to do with it.”

“Ms Wardwell?” Sabrina said, her face scrunching up. “You’re not dating Ms Wardwell, are you?”

“I am not,” Zelda assured, though a pang hit her heart at her niece's expression. “Not that it would be any of your business.”

“Well, she’s just…” Sabrina made an expression. “She seems too…local for you,” Sabrina said. “And you can’t date my Principal, it’d be weird.”

Zelda refrained from commenting, masking her expression as she raised an eyebrow and sipped at her drink. It wasn’t a conversation she wanted to divulge further in, and there was no need. She wasn’t dating Lilith, therefore she didn’t need to be concerned with Sabrina’s opinion.

“Well, Auntie,” Ambrose said. “If you were dating anyone, I’m sure they would be either very fortunate or unfortunate to have you in their life, depending on who the person was. I did note that Mr Putnam Senior was quite smitten the last time we spoke.”

At that, Sabrina’s face brightened, “Are you seeing Theo’s dad?”

Zelda sighed, feeling the familiar arguments rise again. But before she could so much as set the story straight, her entire family had taken her silence to mean that she was, and began throwing a hundred questions at her, enquiring about when it’d occurred, how long it’d been going on and when she was likely to see him again.

“Please,” Zelda cut in, her annoyance rising. “Joe and I aren’t–-“ she tried to argue, but felt her voice, unfortunately, cut off midway through. Due to an ill-timed tickle in her throat, she managed to cover up before it became an issue, but the lapse was enough to cement the idea to her family.

She was now, it seemed, secretly dating Joe Putnam. A headache grew and she held back from saying anything further. There were things to do, gifts to finalise before the end of the day, not to mention that only the day prior, Faustus had begged her to help handle a guest speaker that was coming in for the week before Christmas. Apparently an artist named Marie was doing a guest lecturer for the town on Art and Culture for the local private art gallery.

Apparently, the person who was meant to be helping with the organisation had suddenly quit, and Constance was too deeply wound in stress with the twins to help (so she told him)––as such, it fell on her.

The event was to occur three days before Christmas, which was the day after the alleged orgy was to occur, which meant that Zelda felt the time creeping up faster than she liked, between Christmas preparations, university work and Yule, her week was lined up.

Not to mention that she was still playing catch-up with her own work. Lilith seemed to be just as busy, if not more so with the end of the school term. Teachers were calling in sick, children were acting up, and she seemed to be spending her time running between one crisis or another.

It left her little time for them to see each other, and what they did manage to fit it in, usually involved a quick tumble in the sheets, like she was some secret paramour, before one or both of them were rushing off. Or in some cases, it let them calling each other on the phone.

Though since she’d had that photo taken of herself, Zelda had been feeling bolder, and sending other teasing photos (though none with her face cropped in the image), to Lilith, who turn, had shared similar tantalising photos––though the woman seemed to be well versed in her photos. Zelda felt a competition was beginning to build between them and couldn't help but grow more ambitious.

It meant that Zelda kept her phone close to her at all time, and had the setting set that when it was locked, it was only advised that a new message had come through. The last thing she needed was her family seeing what her messages were.

That wasn’t to say her family hadn’t noticed her newfound interest in her phone, commenting that she was certainly texting more than usual.

And now she had her family harassing her about Joe. “No,” she said, “I have not and will not ever wish to discuss my love life. If I were dating someone, should it become serious, I will agree to divulge the circumstances. As it stands, nothing is happening that any of you should be privy towards.”

“So it’s just sex then,” Ambrose said boldly, and Zelda turned her face to him. “It’s not like we haven’t noticed your increasingly high neckline dresses––you seem to be rather fond of them of late.”

“Enough,” she said, without humour. He turned away, sharing a grin with Sabrina, but neither of the children nor Hilda said anything, leaving a well-deserved silence to fall between them.

And with that, her phone buzzed.

Zelda pulled it out, watching as Sabrina’s eyes tried to sneakily catch a look at the screen as well, before realising she couldn’t see anything.

It was a message from Lilith, but it would have to wait until she was in a more private setting.

She set the phone back into her bag and watched as Sabrina’s eyebrows rose, catching onto the fact that Zelda was trying to be discreet.“Are you all set for your trip tomorrow?” She asked Sabrina, hoping to divert her attention.

“I am. I’ve got everything on the list Roz sent, and anything else I’ll sort out when I’m there. No biggie.”

At that Zelda, refrained from making a comment. Her niece was going to snow and she doubted that it was, indeed, a ‘no biggie’, but Sabrina was old enough that she didn’t need her Aunt packing her bags for her. Should Sabrina forget anything, she was certain that Ms Walker or her parents would be more than willing to help fix the situation.

“Well, then perhaps we should head back?” Zelda said, checking her phone. She was meant to meet Faustus in a few hours to meet the guest speaker. “Was there anything else that anyone needed?”

Thankfully, there wasn’t and Zelda was able to have the family return to the car and drive home, giving her enough time to change into a fresh pair of stockings and heels, switching to her woollen coat, given that she was likely to be meeting Marie in one of the main lecture halls, notorious for never having heating.

At the university, she headed to Faustus’ office. Murmuring came from behind it, and for a moment she considered trying to listen in, before deciding that it wasn’t her business. Knocking on the door, she listened as a sudden silence fell before a shuffling occurred. And then the door was opened and Zelda was greeted to… ”Prudence?”

“Professor Spellman,” she greeted, her face tight as she gave a nod, her eyes looking down at the ground. “Faust––err, Professor Blackwood had asked me to help out with the guest lecturer,” she said before she stepped aside and allowed entrance into the room.

There was a strange tension as Zelda stepped in, and Zelda found the familiar concern rise in her as she thought of Constance Blackwood, at home with the twins, uncertain of what her husband was getting up to with his increasingly late nights.

Sweeping her eyes from Prudence to Faustus, she gave a disapproving look before masking it. “Marie’s meant to meet us in the central hall?” she asked.

“Mm, she’s running a bit late, however. Called to advise she’ll only be a few minutes or so, but there’s no reason to rush.”

Zelda nodded. “So what do you need from me?”

“Honestly,” Faustus sighed and settled back. “I need you to handle the event its self. I have a conflicting arrangement and will be otherwise unavailable. I need you and Prudence to speak to the artist and…find out what she needs to run the lecture. Advertising has been done, and as I understand the social media event is expecting a few dozen occupants.”

Zelda wasn’t surprised. She’d looked up the artist’s work and noted that it would definitely appeal to a wide audience range than some of the other artist guest lecturers they’d had in the past.

“Why is she doing it here and not at the gallery?”

“I don’t know,” Faustus admitted. “Numbers, I suspect. Or it’s tied into one of the function’s the university is doing,” he sighed and shook his head before looking up at Zelda. “I’m trusting you to handle this. If you need anything, let me know.”

Zelda’s eyes narrowed, curious as to the unusual sloppiness but nodded her head. “Is there anything else?”

“No, no. Oh, ah, catering. They’re organised but you’ll need to check with them tomorrow, and ensure they’ve got the correct date and time.”

“Send me an email with their details.”

Faustus nodded, and then she watched as he sat at his desk and made a gesture as if to dismiss them. Zelda’s eyebrow quirked, turning and looking at Prudence to see if she thought his behaviour was strange but noted that the young woman was still staring at the ground. Her eyes starring far away as if she was upset or…ashamed.

Anger built in Zelda and she gave a sharp look at Faustus before turning on her heel and exiting the room. If he’d done something, anything to hurt Prudence, she would ensure his career was over.

Heels clicking down the hall, she heard Prudence following her, and then once she was certain they were far enough away, she pulled to a stop, hands on her hips as she stared at Prudence’s crestfallen, distant expression.

“What did he do?”

“What?” Prudence lifted her eyes and stared at her, and a familiar, indignant expression rose on her face as the girl tried to very quickly hide her emotions behind a fragile mask. “He hasn’t done anything. It was a misunderstanding and––“

“Are you sleeping with him?”

Prudence’s face turned to disgust, paling, “No!” she yelped. “No, he’s…it’s not that. It’s a misunderstanding.”

Zelda’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t sure if she trusted the entirety of the situation, but Prudence’s reaction seemed genuine at least. “Did he try anything?”

“No.” Prudence stood awkwardly, before she turned, “There’s nothing to worry about, and it’s none of your business anyway,” she said, her tone harsh.

“I beg your pardon?”

There, at least, Prudence looked embarrassed. “I just meant that it’s a private matter, Professor Spellman. I assure you that if anything went against the University’s code, i would not be afraid to go to the Dean in regards to it.”

Zelda drew in a breath and then nodded. It wasn’t her mess to deal with. Although she was curious about whatever it was, she at least believed from Prudence’s disgust that it wasn’t an affair, and therefore was not something she was morally obliged to inform Constance of. God forbid. The woman was going to drive herself crazy digging for the answers, but she could provide the comfort of ensuring that it wasn’t the worst thing possible.

“Do you know much about Marie?” Zelda asked, moving the topic as they continued down the halls, towards the central hall.

“I did some research. I know she original in Haiti and has been living in New Orleans for the last few years. Her art is…outstanding,” Prudence advised.

Zelda nodded, agreeing. Marie had won a few awards, been provided with a few artist residencies across the country and was overall, living quite comfortable as a full-time artist. Her last work was raw and powerful, depicting immigration in a turmoil climate, and controversy had arisen as a result against the art museum hosting it, though Zelda suspected that ended up working in their favour.

Her most recent works, however, seemed to be on the study of the human body. Mixed media capturing the body in different dynamic actions––athletes naked as they ran, ballet dancers in the middle of a pirouette, even bodybuilders lifting weights. It was stunning, with great detail spent in the muscles and expressions, making them look as if they may leap out of their frame.

Prudence spoke briefly about the history she learned and advised on the most recent TEDx talk the woman had done about the importance of art in culture.

There was an infatuation in the way Prudence spoke that softened at Zelda. She hadn’t expected the girl to be a patron of the arts, but she supposed people didn’t necessarily expect the same thing of herself, either.  

As they stepped into the Hall, Prudence’s previous mood had almost entirely evaporated into her excitement at meeting Marie, and then it softened as she noticed a figure.

At the hall doors, a woman stood, dressed in a vibrant shade of yellow and orange. As she turned on heel to their coming approach, a warm smile was brought to her lips. “Ms Spellman?” she enquired and Zelda noted the accent. “Faustus mentioned that you and a…Prudence, I believe, would be greeting me?” her eyes flicked between them.

“Good evening. Yes, Faustus asked me to take over for him and ensure that you had everything you needed. But you can call me Zelda.”

“Marie,” the woman said, reaching out her hand. When Zelda took it, Marie stepped closer and kissed her on both cheeks before stepping back before Zelda had a chance to respond.

The woman was…quite beautiful, and under different circumstances, she may have even considered attempting to seduce the woman. But they were in a professional setting and Zelda was…still holding her hand.

She let go.

Lilith had enquired if they were open and she still hadn’t come back to respond to that. In fact, she wasn’t sure where she stood with it.

Clearing her throat, Zelda pushed the blush rising to her cheeks and directed Marie into the central hall. She pointed out where key things were––such as the switchboard, where the lights were kept, where the emergency exits were in case of an incident, as well as the projector on the board.

Thankfully, Marie was familiar with the type of system and confirmed she was well aware of setting her computer up to it, but she still took the time to walk around the hall, getting a feel of the seats and the stairs between the rows.

She stood at the very top, in the back corner and then turned. “Can you hear me from here?” Marie asked.

“Quite clearly,” Zelda responded.

Marie nodded and walked down the stairs, smoothing out her dress before she came to stand before them. “Well, the space is lovely,” Marie mentioned. “The only thing I’ll need is time before it starts to set up.”

“Shouldn’t be an issue,” Zelda agreed. “Catering has been organised, and the post-event mixer will be occurring adjacent to this hall so people aren’t thinking about food,” Zelda said, as she pointed through the doors to where the opposing classroom was. “Outside of that, were there any questions?”

“Will you be attending the event?”

“I will,” she confirmed.

Marie smiled, and it was unmistakably flirtatious. Zelda heard her murmur something underneath her breath, but didn’t quite catch what was said. Given that there were little else to do, Zelda provided herself and Prudence’s contact details, should she think of anything, and then politely lead Marie to where her car was parked.

When Marie left, kissing Prudence’s cheek before twice kissing hers again, Zelda found herself thinking over again Lilith’s enquiry to their status. “She was into you,” Prudence advised. “Overtly.”

“I noticed,” Zelda commented.  

“She seems your type. You should…go out for coffee.”

Zelda's eyes turned to the girl before she shook her head. “I don’t have time to date.”

“Who said anything about dating? You have her number now. Just give her a text and invite her out for a drink.”

Zelda ignored the comment. For one, her day tomorrow was booked for herself to get ready for the so-called orgy, as well as drop Sabrina off as the Walkers, and for another, she wasn’t sure how she felt about dating anyone at the moment.

Currently, her needs were being met. Marie was fascinating and stunningly beautiful, and if circumstances were different, she may have considered inviting the woman to a have a drink near the accommodation she was staying at. But at this moment, there was nothing else she required, aside from the desire to see the woman naked.

But she wasn’t going to be upset if she didn’t.

The next day, she dropped Sabrina off at the Walkers and then spent the day grooming herself in preparation of the following evening. She enjoyed a nice meal with Ambrose and Hilda, informing them that she would be busy tomorrow and not to expect her home (their shared look did not go unnoticed) and then went to bed humming, thinking of the evening.

Zelda had attended two, so-called orgies in her early years of sexual exploration. One had been an impromptu organisation filled with wine, marijuana and had left her feeling like she’d experienced the height of a bacchanal evening. Whilst the other had been an organised event during her Europe travels.

Neither of them had been bad experiences, and she certainly had enjoyed indulging them, but both had involved copious amounts of alcohol and one drug or another.

Although wine was meant to be present, Lilith had advised her that intoxication was not permitted.

The following day, she dressed in the new, purchased lingerie, and did her hair and make-up before dressing in an outfit she’d chosen the day before––she looked over half a dozen different clothes, moving from dresses to pants to skirt, before finally settling on an outfit she deemed classy, but easy enough to take off.

And then she was pulling on her coat and taking her handbag with her.

“Night, Auntie,” Ambrose called from the front porch with a snicker, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

Zelda threw him a half-hearted glare before climbing into her car. The plan was to drive to Lilith’s, and help her with any last minute prep, before Lilith was to take her to her other apartment in the warehouse district, with where it was being hosted.

Given that Lilith was the hostess, they would need to be there early, allowing Zelda to settle any nerves she may have before it began. She wasn’t entirely sure was an organised orgy looked like when it was done by someone whose experience was as evident as Lilith’s, but Zelda was intrigued, nonetheless.

No, that was underplaying it, she was entirely aroused by it and had been fantasying about it over the last week, whilst also trying to push her feelings down and not have her hope raise too high.

However, when she arrived at Lilith’s house, the woman greeted her fresh out of the shower, in her dressing robe. She wasn’t ready.

“Are you planning on arriving naked?” she asked––because it wasn’t so out of the realm of possibilities.

“Oh no, you’re my handmaiden for the evening. You’re going to dress me.”

Zelda’s brow rose and watched as Lilith’s in turn did the same thing before she laughed, taking her hand and leading her upstairs. Thrill ran through Zelda as she was lead to the bedroom and felt the anticipation of the evening wash over her.

Lilith’s outfit was placed on the bed and Zelda’s eyes drew over it curiously before Lilith smirked at her. “Have to look the part,” she explained, before taking a deep breath and smiling fondly at the clothes. Lilith then removed her towel and stood in the bedroom naked as she picked up her riding crop.

Zelda didn’t need to ask what that was for. She knew very well.

“Here,” Lilith said, handing her a bottle. “This needs to lubricate me with where all of the clothes are going.”

Zelda took the bottle in grip and then looked it over. Setting it aside, she removed her jacket and then took a butterfly clip from Lilith’s dresser, before winding the woman’s hair up, off her neck, before she placed the clip in. “Good girl,” Lilith noted, “Some people remember that step too late.”

“Well, some people aren’t as smart as me.” The riding crop struck, low against her ass and she hissed into it, grinning. She’d expected it and still, the arousal flushed through her. “Doesn’t mean I’m not wrong,” she teased, before uncapping the bottle and pouring the liquid into her hand. She walked around Lilith, watching the woman stand proudly before her.

Zelda glanced to the items of clothes, noting where each one should go.

The question was, where to begin. She went for the arm first, draw from the high bicep and rolling her hands over the skin and down the forearm to the fingers. She massaged the area, rubbing it in and watched as Lilith’s face turned to admiration. “Are you enjoying yourself?” Zelda asked.

“Watching you get me well and truly lubricated for this evening? Oh yes, I enjoy it immensely.”

She went to the other arm next, doing the same. She could feel the muscles in Lilith’s arm, down her forearm, and was painfully reminded how easy those arms could hoist her up onto a surface.

“Are you excited about this evening?” Lilith asked. Her voice was careful, masked the way she often spoke when she was playing as her Queen.

“I am,” she confirmed. “Very excited. Did you want to see for yourself?”

Lilith drew in a breath and then seemed to remember that her hands were lubricated.

Zelda worked down the body, drawing it over Lilith’s neck, down her back, and then over her chest. There, she took time to ensure the breasts were well lubricated, rolling Lilith’s nipples in her fingers and watching as the woman gasped pressing onto her toes. There, Zelda couldn’t help self. She played, rolling the nipples between her fingers before splaying her hands over the breasts and then back.

“Is this right?” Zelda asked, teasing as she focused her attention on pinching them harder.

“Quite,” Lilith agreed and then her eyes fluttered closed before Zelda’s hands moved down, underneath her breast to her ribs and felt as Lilith’s breath drew in and out, her eyes opening to look at Zelda. “Careful,” she said, “We’re running low on time.”

“Can’t have that,” she said, before dropping to her knees and began working her way up. Over the foot, carefully drawing up her ankle, her calves. She was so close to Lilith that she could lean in if she wanted to, draw her mouth too where the sex was and press the flat of her tongue to her––

Smack. She hissed, feeling the crop strike her back. Looking up, she stared at Lilith’s unimpressed look. “Time,” Lilith reminded, though there was a heavy exhale to her breath, “Or I’ll have you carrying my wall clock with you while we’re at the orgy. And then I can fuck you while you have to hold onto the great, big round thing, ensuring you didn’t let it go. Would you like that?”

Zelda scoffed, “No.” Smack. She winced. “No, my Queen.”

“Good girl, back to work then.”

Zelda drew up the other leg and then paused, uncertain. She looked up at Lilith and watched as the woman quirked an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”

“Do I…lubricate all of the areas the items are touching?”

She watched Lilith’s face colour. It was well known to both of them that Zelda had not so much as touched Lilith’s sex––if her first experience was to be placing lubricate there, it was something Zelda found herself entirely teased by.

Lilith’s chest rose and fell, and there was a certain desire there, considering. Whether it was because Zelda was on her knees, looking up as she asked, or if it was because the very idea of Zelda drawing her fingers between her folds was enough to cause a heated desire was debatable. Zelda knew what she hoped for––but whether that was true was another thing entirely.

If it were permitted, it would be gentle, Zelda assured herself. But it wouldn’t be sex. If she was going to have sex with Lilith, she wanted to take her time to ensure they both enjoyed it.

“No,” Lilith said, before smirking, “But you should do my ass at the very least.”

Zelda rose, moving to stand behind her. She was tempted to be entirely naughty and spank Lilith’s bare ass, but knew that would likely end up with her undressed and spread out with Lilith fucking her mercilessly––not a bad thing, but as Lilith kept reminding her, they were time-pressed.

She instead placed the lubricant on, over the ass and trying not to think about how much she wanted to fuck Lilith. Lubricating her, and then dressing her was starting to make her feel like she was punished for something she wasn’t aware of.

She stepped back and admired her work, “Is there an order I should be placing these on in?”

“You’re a clever girl. I’m sure you can work out what needs to go over the top of what.”

Zelda gave her a look before she picked through the items. An underbust corset with a half-dozen buckles on the front. Underwear, stockings, garter belt, gloves––all latex, all stunning.

Zelda touched over the gloves, feeling a reaction awake in her. She couldn't wait to feel those gloves on her.

She yelped as the riding crop smacked over her ass before she turned around and looked to Lilith. Her queen stood tall, face in a familiar unimpressed looked. “Time,” she reminded.

Zelda hummed and chose the underwear first. She went to hand them to Lilith and then felt the crop strike over the back of the hand, hard enough to sting and leave a red mark.

“You’re my handmaiden,” Lilith reminded, “Now do your job before I need to properly punish you.”

Zelda closed her eyes, drinking in that thought as she felt it slip right through her. “Of course, my queen,” she said, and then she was getting on her knees and watching as Lilith slid one leg in, and then the other. Zelda pulled the underwear up, onto the woman’s hips and ensure it sat flush, her eyes looking up at Lilith.

The woman smirked down, fingering the riding crop and Zelda swallowed and looked away. They’d barely done anything and already she was shivering with excitement.

Next was the garter belt. Much easier as it slid around the waist, the ties hanging loosely to connect to the latex stockings. The brassier, which did up at the front, allowing Zelda to carefully ensure the breasts sat correctly. Lilith grinned at her and Zelda stepped back, feeling her body warm.

And then the corset.

“How tight?” she asked.

“Pull until I tell you to stop.”

She sat it in place, doing up the buckles at the front, and then moved to behind Lilith where she tugged at the ties. Lilith didn’t say anything, so she tugged tighter, and then tighter again. “There,” she said, and Zelda tied it off (familiar with how to create a knot that would hold firm but easily be able to be tugged undone later).

And then Lilith was sitting down at her dresser and Zelda was taking the stockings in hand. She slid them slowly up Lilith’s leg, rolling them all the way up her thigh before she connected them to the garter belt, doing the same with the other leg. And then her fingers were running up the leg, smoothing the stocking until they sat neatly.

She looked up at Lilith there, feeling the excitement burn through her. She wanted to touch her, to draw her fingers against the seam of her underwear, but as her hands slid up Lilith’s thigh, to where her skin was void of stockings, she felt Lilith’s hands grab hers. “Not yet, you still have work to do.”

Zelda drew in a deep breath, biting back a comment and rose to her feet, taking the gloves.

It was more difficult than the stockings, but she worked them slowly, rolling them and then the other. Lilith stretched her fingers in them, fixing them before she did the same with her brassier, the corset, the stockings, smoothing creases, and then she pointed to the dresser, where all of the hair and make-up was laid out.

Ah, Zelda realised. She was to do that next.

She took the tools of the trade, doing half of Lilith’s hair first, before clipping it away, as she then moved to doing her make-up, taking time to do the basics before she enquired as to what Lilith actually wanted. Lilith’s mouth parted as Zelda straddled her lap, holding her chin as she drew the lipstick on. And then she was fixing a line with her nail, remembering intimately when the situation had been reversed in the back of Lilith’s car.

Lilith’s eyes looked at her, and then mouth tugged into a smile. “You’re thinking about me fucking you in the back of my car.”

“I am.”

“It’ll ruin my make-up so you’ll have to wait.”

Zelda capped the lipstick, rocking her hips. She felt the seam of her underwer drag as she did it and then Lilith’s eyes were on hers, pupils dilated. “Careful,” Lilith husked. “You’ll give me all sorts of ideas.”

“And just what ideas are you have?” Zelda asked.

“Ones that will make us late.”

Zelda laughed before she reached the dresser and picked up at the make-up spray and held it up. Lilith shut her eyes obediently and with two sprays, Zelda was setting it back, and grabbing the hairspray.

She could feel Lilith’s hand holding her hips steady as if it would stop her from rocking against her lap. But Zelda pretended not to notice, as she sprayed her hair and then pulled out the clips one-by-one, combing her fingers through the hair so it fell in soft, heavy curls around her face.

And then, she rocked over the thigh, purposefully grinding down on it before she was climbing off Lilith lap and standing in appreciation of her work.

Lilith looked good. Really good.

So good that Zelda wanted to get fucked hard by her in front of a mirror.

She watched as Lilith rose to her feet, and then walked over to her wardrobe, pulling out a knee-length trench coat that she did up and then cinched the waist, all the while as Zelda watched, feeling her heartbeat.

All she could think about now was Lilith turning up to her office in nothing but the trench coat. It'd be late at night, and Zelda would be helpless against her seduction attempts once the jacket was undone and removed.

“I have a present for you,” Lilith said. “For tonight.”

“Was I meant to bring something as well?” she asked.

“Oh, don’t worry, this is as much for me as it is for you.”

She watched as Lilith stepped to the dresser, and then opened a drawer, pulling out a wrapped box. It was reasonably sized, but there was a distinct jewellery look about it.

Zelda’s eyes went to it, her fascination increasing. “I was joking about the gold necklace.”

“It’s not a gold necklace,” Lilith assured. “Or a pearl one for that matter.”

Zelda undid the ribbon, pulling open the wrapping paper carefully before she pulled out the velvet box. It was certainly jewellery of some kind, and her interest was only further piqued as she opened up the box.

There, sitting on the cushion, was a collar. It had a gold embellished loop on the front, around a thick, leather choker, though Zelda noticed that it had a soft cushioning on the other side, presumably to prevent it from cutting the skin.

Lilith stepped behind her, pressing against her back. She drew a hand down Zelda’s arm to where her fingers were touching over the collar. “We can place all sorts of attachments here,” she said, her index finger tracing over the loop. “Nipple clamps, a leash, or even attach you to some lovely furniture.”

Zelda hummed in agreement, she was already imaging the clamps attaching to them, and how’d they’d pull if Lilith tugged her by the collar.

“Or I could just tug on the loop so I can remind you of who you belong to.”

“Yours, I presume?”

“Entirely,” Lilith breathed and Zelda felt the shiver run down her spine. Her eyes closed as she felt that thought drift over her wonderfully.

“Do you like it?” Lilith asked, and her breath was warm against her neck. Zelda could feel her wanting to kiss her, ruin her lipstick and leave her mark.

The collar was beautiful. But more importantly, Zelda knew it was a symbol of the connection Lilith was trying to share with her. Of their relationship status––and going by the detail of it, the thought placed into it––Zelda suspected that she was downplaying her intentions in case Zelda rejected it, and by proxy, her.

She turned her face to look at Lilith, “I love it,” she said with genuine adoration, feeling her heart flutter as she drew back down and touched at the material, tracing her fingers over where Lilith had touched. “Will you place it on me?”

Lilith’s shoulders seemed to ease as she took the collar from its box. And then, Zelda watched as in the mirror, Lilith drew her hair back, before placing the collar around her throat, buckling it up at the back.

It was…terrible erotic and Zelda felt her thighs press together, as she looked over the collar.

She touched it, turning her head to admire how it looked in the mirror––there was no mistaking its intent as a kink collar, but it wasn’t so gaudy it was impractical, nor did it resemble a dog collar as she’d seen on the internet.

It was beautiful.

Lilith’s hand ran through her hair, combing the back so it fell over the collar and Zelda swallowed, looking into her eyes as she did it. What she wanted was to ask was for Lilith to fuck her, right there, but she knew she wouldn’t allow either of them to mess up their hair or make-up.

But god, she wanted to fuck her.

Lilith smirked at her. “Just a quickie,” she whispered. “Since you look so magnificent.”

Zelda stood up and then, Lilith was stepping behind her, head on her shoulder as she snaked one hand up Zelda’s body, over her clavicle, the collar and then over her jaw as she took it in grip and tugged Zelda’s chin up high, the latex fingers wrapping around her throat, just above the collar.

Both of them watched in the dresser’s mirror as Lilith then slid her other hand down, under the band of her trousers, down to the lingerie underneath, touching over the material.

“These feel new,” Lilith whispered.

“You’ll have to wait,” Zelda response.

“Will I, now?” and then her fingers were drawing over her sex. “My, my Zelda Spellman, they don’t have a crotch in them,” she noted as her smiled turned wicked. “I can’t wait to see how you look, bent over the first surface I can find.”

Lilith’s fingers were stroking over her firmly and Zelda’s legs were already shaking, but she was held firm in her gloved hands and there was nowhere else Zelda wanted to be.

“I mean it,” Lilith said, “You look magnificent Zelda.”

“As do you,” she responded. “A terrifying goddess.”

“Mm, and what does that make you? My dear little priestess?”

“High Priestess,” she corrected, “I’ll be leading the worship at your altar.”

“Yes, you will. Now, let's see what devotion I can summon from you,” she said before her fingers scissored inside of her, stretching her.  

Zelda whimpered at the touch and caught Lilith smirking in the mirror. Her eyes were entirely focused on her face, watching her slowly come undone by her hands.

If Lilith was a terrifying goddess, then Zelda was as her mercy, caught in her grasp. There was nowhere else she wanted to be as she allowed herself to be fucked, watching herself with a fascination as Lilith coaxed her without mercy until her eyes were squeezing shut, and her whimpers had turned to gasps.

“Lilith,” she gasped.

“Try again.”

Zelda whined, and then drew in a breath, meeting the woman’s piercing stare. “My Queen, please––“

“Please…what?”

“Please, may I?”

Lilith laughed, low and soft in her ear, “You may.”

And her speed increased deliciously and Zelda’s body tensed, pressing against Lilith on shaking legs as she came. She opened her eyes, gasping to watch herself jerk in Lilith’s hands, and then her queen was smirking as she drew her hands out of her pants and lifted them to Zelda’s lips.

“Clean-up your mess,” she ordered.

Zelda’s mouth parted, and then three fingers were sliding across her tongue as Zelda sucked on them obscenely, her tongue rolling over them, sucking down on the digits. Lilith’s mouth parted, her brow pressing in a reaction that looked as though she were close to climax herself before her fingers were sliding out.

“Good girl,” she said, though her throat was heavy with arousal as she stepped away.

Zelda drew in a breath, feeling the hit of endorphins wash over her as she looked to the mirror and fixed her make-up.

Behind her, she watched as Lilith cleaned her hand before placing smirking at her, a soft expression on her face that made Zelda chest warm. She was still nervous about tonight, but the anxiety of it eased.

“Do you know what you want to engage in?” Lilith asked.

“I don’t even know what to expect.”

Lilith nodded. “There’ll be group sex, but you don’t have to participate. There’s usually a few impact play sessions running, as well as some spectator events and bondage.”

“Spectator events?”

“Mm, the night usually kicks off with a show. If you like…it can be us. We’ll do a scene together and then, if you’re interested, I can fuck you in front of the spectators. Or, you can have someone else take the place of the submissive if you’d prefer to spectate.”

Zelda’s expression tugged before she understood what Lilith meant, “You need to kick off the event because you’re hosting.”

“I don’t have to, but it is expected. But it doesn’t have to be sex. It can just be a scene that gets everyone interested. Even a good bondage suspension would do it.” She looked at Zelda and then tilted her head. “If you don’t wish to go, you don’t have to. And if you don't wish to be a part of the ceremony, I won't ask it of you. I want you to enjoy yourself, Zelda. That takes precedence over everything else.”

Zelda shook her head. “No,” she said, “Don’t do it with someone else. If you’re going fuck anyone in front of spectators it’s going to me.”

Lilith smiled, looking away as she seemed to hold back a statement.

“What?” Zelda snapped.

“Usually I don’t like jealousy, but green’s a nice colour on you,” Lilith said, and then she smirked at her. “I’ll fuck you if that’s what you want, Zelda. But it’s going to a proper fucking.”

“I expect nothing less.”

“No, I suppose you don’t.”

______________________

[jgroffdaily]

Jonathan Groff, now starring as a hapless flower shop clerk in an Off Broadway revival of “Little Shop of Horrors,” has a tiny confession to make.

“I am really bad with plants,” said the 34-year-old actor, recalling how rapidly the orchids and other flora occasionally sent his way seem to shrivel up and die. “I kill them.”

We were seated under an oak tree that had just tried to bean us with a fast-moving acorn, somewhere inside the New York Botanical Garden. Visiting had been my idea, and I wasn’t quite sure whether it was cheesy or inspired. (Spoiler alert: The musical is about a bloodthirsty plant).

But Mr. Groff was game — he had never been — and although the Bronx gardens were not especially menacing (other than that wayward nut) they did provide an opportunity for some reflection on his unlikely career swerve.

He’s performed in two juggernauts — the animated film “Frozen” (he voiced Kristoff, the rugged ice harvester, and will do so again in “Frozen 2” next month) and the stage musical “Hamilton” (he played King George, scoring his second Tony Award nomination with just nine minutes of stage time). And he stars as an F.B.I. agent in the critically lauded Netflix serial-killer drama “Mindhunter.”

So what is he doing in a 270-seat Hell’s Kitchen theater performing a show that can easily be seen at many a summer camp or community theater, and that, the producers say, will absolutely positively definitely not be transferring to Broadway?

The answer, he says, is mostly that it’s fun. He loves the idea (“It made me so giddy and excited”). He loves the music (“I’m just obsessed by it”). And he’s as surprised as you are (“I can’t believe we’re doing this”).

“We’re just laughing because it feels like we’re doing a professional version of the quintessential high school show,” he said. “We’re all going to back to that initial nerdy impulse of what made us fall in love with musical theater.”

The other key factor: This revival, of a show that first opened Off Off Broadway in 1982, is a passion project for the director Michael Mayer, who played a formative role in his career. Thirteen years ago, Mr. Mayer took a risk by choosing Mr. Groff over actors with more education and experience to star in an experimental Off Broadway musical called “Spring Awakening.”

That show transferred to Broadway and won eight Tonys; it brought Mr. Groff his first Tony nomination and changed his life. “It was everything I ever dreamed of, come true at 21,” Mr. Groff said. “And, like I told Michael, it’s a lifetime of paybacks.”

In May, Mr. Mayer asked Mr. Groff to join him at the Metropolitan Opera for a performance of his production of “Rigoletto,” and during intermission, said to him, “I think I found the next project we’re going to work on, because I know something about you that other people don’t.”

A week later, Mr. Mayer called and asked him to play Seymour, a clumsy and nebbishy orphan fascinated by exotic plants and besotted by his co-worker Audrey.

The show, written by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken, is now in previews at the Westside Theater, where it is scheduled to run through Jan. 19; the production also stars Tammy Blanchard, as the ill-treated and ill-fated Audrey, and the two-time Tony-winner Christian Borle as her sadistic dentist boyfriend.

“Jonathan presents as a beautiful man, competent and terrific and engaged and completely at ease in his own body — the paragon of the golden boy,” Mr. Mayer said. “But I know that there’s this other part of him that is very much like Seymour — he’s got insecurities, and he’s got this childlike passion for things that he can get obsessive about, in the way that Seymour is obsessed with the plant and with Audrey.”

Obsessions? Let’s just say that as a child, Mr. Groff would type out, from memory, scripts of “I Love Lucy” episodes (he also read books about Lucille Ball, a memoir by Desi Arnaz and a book about their company).

“I am a total nerd, and this role is actually closer to who I am as a person than the other parts that I’ve played on Broadway,” Mr. Groff said. “I have a whole side of me that isn’t the projected image,” he added. “I get this — I totally get it — and it feels like a natural fit.”

His physical transformation from hunky to homely has turned out to be surprisingly persuasive, so much so that this production has interpolated a recurring sight gag about the character’s unattractiveness that, by combining absurdity with plausibility, slays the audience (pardon the pun) over and over.

Mr. Groff, dressed by costume designer Tom Broecker in ill-fitting khakis and a vintage blue shirt, appears to cave in on himself during the first act of the show, as if he doesn’t even deserve to stand fully upright. He wears black mad scientist glasses, a beige cap and blue Chuck Taylors, and manages to look boxier and younger than he is in real life.

“The only way he’s not a Seymour is because he’s gorgeous,” Ms. Blanchard said. “But even that goes away — he just seems to shrink into this dorky thing.”

But is “Little Shop” more than a lark?

“It’s about something larger — it’s Faust,” Mr. Groff said. “It’s about greed, and how far you’ll go to get what you want.” But, he added, “the reason it ran for five years Off Broadway, and there’s a movie, and every theater in the world has done it, is because it so doesn’t take itself seriously.”

Visiting the botanical garden prompted memories for Mr. Groff, who said it reminded him of childhood trips to Longwood Gardens in his home state of Pennsylvania. “The smell!” he exulted.

He grew up in Lancaster County, where his father trains horses. He loved musicals, and dreamed of performing (early fantasy roles: Maria in “The Sound of Music” and Eliza in “My Fair Lady”). As a little boy, he dressed as Mary Poppins and Cinderella and Alice and Dorothy, as well as Peter Pan, before discovering the joys of Robin Hood.

He moved to New York instead of going to college, and after waiting tables and an early Broadway debacle (as an understudy in the short-lived “In My Life”) landed “Spring Awakening.” That show, he said, “was my college experience, in a lot of ways,” broadening his understanding of musical theater and increasing his appetite for risk.

He had known he was gay from an early age, and had been living with a boyfriend since he was 19; he came out to his parents shortly after leaving that show, at 23: “I said, ‘I’m gay, but I’m not going to be in a parade or anything.’”

By 2014, he was starring in the HBO series “Looking,” about a group of gay friends in San Francisco — and appeared as a grand marshal of New York City’s gay pride march.

“I started to just become way more comfortable,” he said. “When I came out it was sort of like, ‘If I could change it I would, but sorry, this is how I am,’ and then it took those years to feel like this is a part of me that I love and I would never want to change.”

He said coming out has had a generally positive impact on his career — he has been landing roles both gay and straight, and “ultimately the payoff has just been that I’ve been able to be more and more myself.”

And he’s happy. For the last year and a half he’s been dating Corey Baker, a choreographer from New Zealand he met while teaching at a musical theater summer school there. He lives in the Chelsea neighborhood of Manhattan, but also recently purchased a house adjoining his father’s horse farm, because he has a fantasy of eventually transforming the property.

“My ultimate dream is to turn it into a kind of artists’ colony for my friends to go make work,” he said.

Mr. Groff shuns social media — he said he doesn’t think his life is that interesting — and bikes around the city. He has no interest in clothing. He showed up for our photo shoot with three T-shirts — white, gray and black — proud that he had heeded a publicist’s advice to bring options.

Although he’s never quite sure what’s next career-wise, he likes the work he has.

“Mindhunter” was an unexpected pleasure — “I’m not naturally drawn to true crime,” he said — but he wanted to work with the director David Fincher, and has enjoyed the immersion in a new world, as well as the time filming in Pittsburgh, which allowed him weekends with his family.

Up next: “Frozen 2.” He won’t say much about what to expect, other than that Kristoff now gets his own song, and that the character is “ready to take it to the next step” with Princess Anna.

As we were wrapping up our conversation, I asked Mr. Groff about an article I had seen in a Pennsylvania paper, noting that he had been spotted in the audience for a community theater production of “Evita.”

Mr. Groff said he loves seeing theater where he grew up, and had been further inspired by the actor Michael Cerveris, who while filming “Mindhunter” had soaked up shows in Pittsburgh. So yes, he was at “Evita” with his 4-year-old niece, and he also made time to see “Mamma Mia!” at a theater where he had performed.

As we hopped into a golf cart to find our way out of the garden, he wanted to show me one more thing. He pulled out his phone, loaded with pictures of the cramped backstage at “Little Shop,” and swiped to a video in which he was running lines with that niece, who has been learning about the show in preparation for attending opening night.

“She’s apparently been telling the kids at her day care that she eats blood, and she’s obsessed with the plant’s eyes,” he said. “But I think she sort of gets that we’re playing pretend.”

[morlock-holmes]

@flakmaniak

Timmy Turner and Finn aren’t from ensemble casts though, right? I mean, there are recurring other characters, but they’re The Main Character, with one or two nonhuman sidekicks along for the ride.

Well, yes, but that’s kind of my point, actually.

Maybe I’ll just try writing out that essay...

Early on in the run of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, series creator Lauren Faust wrote out a short article for Ms. Magazine laying out her goals and intentions for the show. I think it’s a very interesting article, so much that I kind of want to quote the whole thing, but one thing Faust said that really stuck with me was,

There are lots of different ways to be a girl. You can be sweet and shy, or bold and physical. You can be silly and friendly, or reserved and studious. You can be strong and hard working, or artistic and beautiful.

I think the show is quite successful at that, depicting many different kinds of people, er, pastel ponies, with different strengths, weaknesses, and interests without denigrating any of them.

Faust also talks about being mostly completely alienated by the girls shows of her youth, which is interesting to me because I was extremely into at least a couple of girls shows. As a little boy, I was obsessed with the My Little Pony cartoon, and then, later, Sailor Moon.

Around the late 70s and early 80s, kids shows in the US kind of bifurcated, with shows becoming very explicitly “for girls” and “for boys”. This was especially true during the 80s, and this division wasn’t just about whether you had angular, primary color robots or soft pastel horses, the characters and story structures were very different as well.

I liked the boys shows, but I also liked some of the girls shows, because they addressed feelings and ideas I had that just weren’t going to be addressed in the boys shows. I especially liked the original My Little Pony series.

Now, the 80s version of My Little Pony has a lot of flaws. Particularly, the animation is terrible even by the standards of the 80s and the voice acting can be grating. But rewatching it, I still see what I liked as a kid, which was that it paid a lot of attention to motives and feelings. Like, here are some of the motivations for villains in the show:

I remember when my villainous boss used to be nice, so maybe if I stay with her I can keep her from causing too much trouble and help her go back to how she was.

I was kidnapped by a weird monster and he’s threatened to hurt my loved ones if I don’t do his evil bidding.

I made a deal for fame and fortune with a genie and now I know he eats souls but I’m afraid if I reject him I’ll go back to being poor.\

Our Queen stole a magic rock to revitalize our frozen country, and even though she’s overbearing I have to do right by my country.

These are fairly complex motivations for a kids show, especially when you compare them to, say, Transformers or Ninja Turtles. Shredder or Megatron are just bad because they’re bad, and so are most of their minions. Even if you have somebody like, I don’t know, Jetfire, the story there is that he discovers that his old friend Starscream is bad, at which point neither character has any further compunctions about blasting his old friend with laser guns.

Meanwhile, villains in My Little Pony would be conflicted, have divided loyalties, and be genuinely unsure what the right thing to do was. Even as a very small child, I thought that was more interesting and more honest then other shows were being.

Later, I had many of the same feelings about Sailor Moon. Hell, I still do. Even in the bowdlerized American version, I could still relate to Ami wondering if being a nerd meant she wasn’t properly into the things girls are “supposed” to be into and Usagi’s complete loathing of schoolwork and studies.

Even though these shows weren’t “for” me I really loved them, because the shows that were “for” me, the boys shows, never really expressed the kinds of ideas I’m talking about here. Like, especially during the early nineties, the answer to the question, “Does being a quiet, studious nerd make me less of a boy?” was, “Yes.”

I actually remember, as a child, constantly wishing I had been born a girl, not because I had some inner girl nature, but because girls (or so it seemed from outside) were allowed to be quiet, to be studious, to talk about feelings and to like predictability and calm. The idea of a boy wanting those things was largely foreign.

So... put a pin in that.

Okay, I want to describe a young boy to you. 

He’s energetic, but a bit scatterbrained. He isn’t bookish at all; trying to sit still for long periods of time makes him antsy, and he’d rather be out in the world doing physical things than reading or thinking. In fact, he tends to act without thinking things through, and this gets him in trouble. 

Despite being energetic and physical, he isn’t really into sports; he chafes under authority so teamwork isn’t always his strong suit, even though he cares deeply about his friends. 

I would argue that I’ve just described pretty much every adolsecent male protagonist of every cartoon released over the last 15 years or so. Aang. Danny Phantom. Timmy Turner. Ben 10. Finn from Adventure Time. I’m  sure more will come to mind later. 

This character shows up again and again in boys cartoons, and he’s almost always depicted as the default, with other characters understood through their relationship to this default boy.

Okay, I’m going to get into representation politics, and specifically I’m about to criticize Adventure Time, so I think a disclaimer is in order. One of the problems with talking about representation is that you end up criticizing broad patterns, but the same people aren’t in charge of the whole media landscape, and any single instance of the pattern is probably actually extremely defensible.

So. Okay. I haven’t seen all of Adventure Time, but I’ve seen the first couple of seasons, and they are very well written, and I think Finn in particular is a very well observed character who is very true to life, and in order to change what I’m going to complain about you’d have to rework the show from the ground up. So it’s not that this is a terrible decision, but...

Okay, something that bothers me about early Adventure Time is that Princess Bubblegum is a science nerd only because Finn isn’t. Princess Bubblegum kind of represents, to Finn, the mysteries of adulthood and sexuality. She’s part of this mysterious world of women and adulthood that Finn longs for but hasn’t grown up enough, or had enough experience with, to really understand.

And so to hammer that home her personality and life are also full of things that Finn can’t understand... Like sitting still, and doing meticulous, complex experiments and researching in books.

It’s not that the show denigrates this, not at all, it’s just that it’s positioned as incomprehensible and distant from the audience stand-in character. The Boy doesn’t like to sit still and study, he likes to go on dangerous, physical adventures! And he certainly couldn’t ever prefer to sit still and study over going out and having a physical adventure. Doing that would be incomprehensible.

She’s well-written and I’m sure lots of kids relate to her, but fundamentally her nerdiness is portrayed as foreignness.

A lot of the shows I mentioned above aren’t even really ensembles, but those that kind of are, e.g. Avatar: The Last Airbender, or Ben 10 give The Boy special powers that differentiate him from the rest of the cast.

Go back to the early episodes of My Little Pony and Twilight Sparkle is kind of the viewpoint character; the framing device of the early episodes is letters she writes, but she doesn’t really have, like, one special power that the others don’t, and structurally she’s a tertiary character in a lot of episodes. 

Contrast that to Aang, who is central to the story of Avatar, the Last Airbender. Like... you can have episodes that aren’t really about him but he has a special, important power that no other character does or can have, and the fate of the whole plot rests on his shoulders. Like, if the Avatar dies the natural order is upended and the Fire Nation almost certainly wins; you could kill off any other supporting cast member and then replace them without completely upending the world.

This is not to say that any of the shows I have called out are bad or harmful, but, to go way back, I remember being genuinely upset as a child not to see boy characters who had the feelings and struggles I did, and if anything, I think the situation might be slightly worse than when I was a kid. Go back to that Lauren Faust quote up there. How many cartoons feature a boy who is “Reserved and Studious”? Dexter’s Lab... Maybe Invader Zim... How many with a boy that is “Sweet and Shy”? Have you ever seen one about a boy who is “Artistic and beautiful?”

What about a show with all those boys portrayed as friends and equals, rather than one for you to relate to and a bunch of sidekicks and side characters?

Like, one of the only male, American cartoon characters who has ever made me go, “Yeah, that’s what it was like for me as a kid” is fucking Butters from South Park.

[lilithpooped]

Klassiker (Classic) - Wonho

Genre: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF and daily fluff

Requested by: @joully

A/n: AAAAAA THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS, I’m so uwu and cozy right now!! I hope you like it! And it also helped me since I’m studying translation in college and I found an essay comparing two translations of Faust 😅 and if you don’t like it you can always ask for another fic about the same subject!! I hope you like it!! 💕🥰 (ah and it’s a short one I’m sorry)

“Hi baby!” Wonho stepped inside the house. It was pretty late and he had just come back from work.

“Hello, welcome.” You answered him from the other room, sounding unintentionally robotic.

“Wow, what a warm welcome.. It seems like you missed me a lot??” He joked cutely while he put his keys on the drawer next to the door and made his way to where you were.

Sneaking his head through the door, he saw you were reading a book.

“Ah, I guess I interrupted you.”

You closed the book after putting a bookmark in it.

“No baby, come inside. How was your day? I was waiting for you.”

“Ugh.. I had a rough day. Don’t event ask about it.. What are you reading? Is that the one where the main character turns into a bug?”

You laughed, standing up from your reading chair and getting closer to him.

“No, that’s Kafka’s ‘Die Verwandlung’, I’m reading Goethe’s ‘Faust’ Don’t act like you don’t know. Are you making fun of me because I’m reading my own country’s classics, Mr. Lee?????” Now you squinted your eyes at him.

He laughed at your reaction and hugged you with his one arm, kissing your neck.

“You know I would never do that, I just prefer girls who read modern novels.” He said with a mischievous look in his eyes and without letting his arm go loose around your waist.

“Said the man who has Anna Karenina on his bookshelf! I saw it when we first moved in together. Don’t even try to hide it Mr. Lee, you like classics!” You said in the same mischievous way as his.

“Aaaah, okay okay. I’m busted. You got me. I love classics. I love women who read classics.”

“So you can love any woman who reads classics huh? Oh, and here I was thinking that you were a loyal lover. Ah poor me, ah my poor heart!”

“Wow, you got me second time today Ms. Y/L/N!.. Ah what can I do, I’m a heartless Casanova!..”

“Oh, I’m sure that heartless Casanova can live food’less too then!!”

“Baby noooooooooo!! Please I’m loyal to only you canweeatsomethingnow? I’mreallyhungry!”

He said those last two sentences in just one breath, looking at you pouting.

“Umm, I should say no but I prepared the dinner for two already, let’s go then.” You said smiling and moving on with your small roleplay.

You two sat down to eat your dinner. Just when you were about to ask something unimportant to cut the silence, he asked you;

“Are you reading Faust in German?”

“Yes, since I don’t wanna forget my own language while I’m here, and everything is better in their own language anyways so..” you smiled sheepishly.

“Oh, I see.”

That was rather a silent dinner since it was late and Wonho was too tired to talk about anything. After finishing his meal and putting the dishes into the dishwasher, he kissed your forehead.

“I’m going to sleep baby. Thank you for the meal. It was delicious as always.”

“You’re going to bed now? But you’ve just come home, I barely even see you nowadays.”

He could sense the light reproach in your voice.

“I’m too tired and stressed, baby. I’m so sorry. Is it okay if I go to bed now and we do anything you want tomorrow? It was really a long day for me.”

“Okay.” There were nothing to say as you knew if he weren’t actually tired, he would’ve stayed with you. So you just forgave him for tonight and after finishing your own meal, you turned back to the living room to go on reading your book.

Hardly 15 minutes passed, and you heard rustles beside you. Raising your head from your book, you saw Wonho with his pillow in his hands.

“I couldn’t sleep, would you mind reading to me?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of a 26-year-old boy in his pajamas, holding his pillow in front of you.

“Of course I wouldn’t mind baby. But you know it’s in German.”

“It’s okay, I wanna listen to it. But come sit on the couch first, I’m gonna put my head on your lap. You know I need this pillow to hug and I don’t have any other pillows soooooooooo..”

You still couldn’t believe how childishly cute he could get even after 4 years of living together. Laughing lovingly at his antics, you changed your seat and sit on the couch making yourself comfortable.

“You can lie down now.”

“Okay.” He put his head on your lap, turned to his side and hugged his pillow. You knew he could in fact sleep in his bed, he used not being able to sleep as an excuse to both be with you and have his sleep.

One thing you didn’t know or realize was that he was actually listening to you while you were reading aloud.

“What does that verse mean, it sounded pretty cool now.” He asked.

“Oh, were you listening?”

“Of course!!! I love to listen to you when you speak in your own language, it’s soothing. Now tell me the meaning of that verse.”

“Oh, it says Bold is the endeavor, Splendid the pay! And the soldiers, March away.”

“Wow it was indeed cool.”

Like that, he asked you whenever he thought he heard something cool. Until one moment you realized the questions stopped.

You looked down to your lap just to see a peacefully sleeping Wonho.

You were thankful that he got out of his bed’s comfort just to be with you. He always knew how to show his love and support to you. You put a loving kiss on his forehead and went on reading your book.

——————

Masterlist

[chiseler]

An Interview With Screenwriter Louisa Rose

In 1973, Brian De Palma released Sisters, his Siamese twin mystery thriller starring Margot Kidder and Charles Durning. After a string of social satires which, to be honest, haven’t aged very well, Sisters was De Palma’s breakthrough film, the one that would cement the form and style for which he’d come to be known. A year later he released the horror/comedy/glam rock opera Phantom of the Paradise starring the great Paul Williams. Hitting theaters more than a year before Rocky Horror, Phantom combined elements from Faust, Phantom of the Opera and about a dozen other sources into a bright, fast, wicked comic book satire of the music business. The film went on to become a cult favorite.

Both films were written by screenwriter Louisa Rose, though she is rarely credited for her work on Phantom. After some reputed and proverbial creative differences, De Palma removed her name from the film and rewrote the script, taking sole screenwriting credit. Although Rose disagrees with me, I think it can be argued it was her work on these two scripts, particularly Sisters, that drew attention to De Palma as a director.

After spending the first 20 years of her adult life in New York City, she and her husband relocated first to Spokane and then to Seattle about a decade back. Not long ago, I spoke with her via phone about her career as a playwright and Hollywood screenwriter.

Jim Knipfel: How did you get started in screenwriting?

Louisa Rose: {Laughs} By accident. I was one of those kids who wrote poetry in high school. I went to college thinking I wanted to be an actress. Theater was my primary interest. I found that I really enjoyed the rehearsal process, but really did not enjoy acting for an audience. That was not a recommendation for a career on stage, so part of my theater concentration (we called our majors “concentrations” at Sarah Lawrence) was writing for the theater. And that’s what I really loved. Brian De Palma was at Columbia, and though they had extra-curricular student theater, they did not have the intensive program as part of the curriculum that SLC did, and does.

At any rate, Brian and another Columbia student came to Sarah Lawrence to do theater and some film projects, because the head of the theater department, Wilford Leach, was interested in film as well. He was a mentor for Brian. The first film project, I believe, was a short piece called The Wedding Party. I don’t know if you’ve heard of that.

JK: Oh, yes, I’ve seen it.

LR: After that Brian made Murder a la Mod and Dionysus, I think it was.

JK: You mean Dionysus in ’69?

LR:  Yes, Dionysus in ’69 started out as a theater piece. Scared the shit out of me when I went to see it. It was created by an interesting experimental director, Richard Schechner, as a mass quasi-orgy experience. The venue, The Performing Garage, had stadium seating, actually more like large long shelves almost to the ceiling – and you had to climb ladders to reach them. Then the actors would climb up and invite you to “join the dance.” And I saw one coming toward me… “No, I am not joining the dance. I am an observer” {laughs}.      

Brian did his Masters at Sarah Lawrence, and one of his projects was to direct my senior play. That’s how I got to know him. I then went on to get my MFA in theater. So he knew me and he was looking for someone to write a script for Sisters. He felt his idea for the film would be marketable, but he needed a script. It sounded like fun, and actually became my Master’s thesis.

JK: Really?

LR: Yeah, so that’s how I got to work on Sisters.

JK: So he came to you with the story?

LR: He had kind of an outline. He had this idea that it would be twins, one evil and one good sister…You know, it’s just so long ago it’s hard for me to remember. There were certain points, certain visual things he wanted. We worked together on the story, and then I wrote the script.  

As for Phantom of the Fillmore …

JK: Um, you mean Phantom of the Paradise?

LR: That’s it, Phantom of the Fillmore. It became Paradise.

{Note: After catching wind of the film’s original title, the owners of The Fillmore filed a lawsuit, forcing the change. Another lawsuit, this one filed by Led Zeppelin, forced the name of the films central record company, Swan Song, be changed to Death Records.}

LR: I took time off from working in NYC to go to LA and write scripts for Sisters and Phantom. At that point, I was a single mother, and my daughter Alissa was two and a half. I brought her with me and had her in day care.  I had a contract for a total of $80,000 for the two scripts.  But when it came to getting paid, Brian delayed and delayed, told me it was not a good time and that I needed to wait.   As usual, actors, director, camera persons, etc. were paid. I needed the money, had to sue to be paid, and only received a quarter of the contract money.  Brian had been a friend, and it felt like a betrayal.  

But back to the movie, what is your take on Sisters? What are the things you notice about it?

JK: I went back just a couple days ago and watched it again. Just in terms of De Palma’s career, it was a big turning point for him. Discounting Murder A La Mod, he’d been doing all those goofy satires like Greetings and Hi Mom! And Get to Know your Rabbit. Sisters was the first of his thrillers and the first of his Hitchcock homages, the things he’d come to be known for.

LR: Right.

JK: Ignoring the Psycho model at play, one of the things that always struck me about Sisters was that in lesser hands the big Siamese twins reveal would have been saved until the last ten or fifteen pages of the script, but here we get it about forty minutes in. Even before that, they gave it away in the poster; they gave it away in the tagline. There was no secret the killer—or killers—were Siamese twins. But then of course there’s the later twist, which brings us back to Psycho.

LR: Mm-hmm.

JK: What really sticks with me, though, is the whole final sequence from Jennifer Salt’s hypnotism to that final shot of Charles Durning staring through the binoculars at the couch. It’s so good. I love that ending so much. Also, having come to know of her only later, I was amazed to see what a good actress Margot Kidder was.

LR: I thought she was very appealing and a really good choice for the part.

JK: In the end Sisters, more so than the thrillers that would follow—Dressed to Kill, Body Double, Blow Out—is the one I always go back to, because even the Hitchcock stuff is still fairly understated at that point. So I’m wondering, how much of that final script, what made it to the screen, was yours?

LR I think I have a copy of my original script here, if I could find it. It was much longer and needed to be cut. I really don’t know. It was a long time ago and I’d need to re-read it.  

There is a Blu-Ray copy of Sisters put out by Arrow that has interviews of some people who worked on the film.

I’ve got it somewhere.]

My husband keeps saying I should show it to our teenage grandchildren, but it might destroy their image of me as nice old grandma. On the other hand, some years ago, our two nephews watched it as young teenagers and looked at me with new respect—or was it fear?

Now, what is funny is that Sisters is kind of a cult film, and so is Phantom. About ten years ago, shortly after we moved to Seattle, I got a call from a young woman originally from Winnipeg.

JK: The one city where Phantom was a big hit when it came out.

LR: Yes, it was a cult film there, with a festival and now possibly a documentary about the festival. We had a visit, and she mailed me – I believe it was a production copy of the script for Sisters.

JK: So what was it like for you, a young woman writing films in the Seventies?

LR: There are things funny and not funny that happened…Nothing about the movie business appealed to me, based on my very limited experience. The people were kind of awful. I have memories of someone from the studio, a married accountant. He said, “Oh, I have to go to San Francisco to scout locations, and you could come with me.” The whole approach was making me nervous, and I said, “Well, I have a two-year-old daughter with me, so, uh, no I can’t do that.” And he said, “Well, we could bring your daughter and get baby-sitting for her, and then we could have a Really Good Time.” I thought, oh, just leave me alone—I’m not a gorgeous actress, I’m a writer.

JK: Not that long ago I interviewed an actress from the late Fifties who up and left the movie business for twenty years because she wouldn’t put up with that.

LR: Women were treated horribly in Hollywood as elsewhere. When I went to look for a job in New York after college, there were separate job listings for men and women. Men could apply for management-track jobs and women could be a “Gal Fri” or a “Secy.”  

I was very taken by a piece in Ms. Magazine about a woman who worked in a factory that made plutonium pellets and who became a whistle-blower. I thought it would make a good movie.

JK: You mean Karen Silkwood?

LR: That’s it. So I met a woman who worked at New Line Cinema, who got me an interview with a producer there. I came in and I was supposed to pitch my idea. It was almost like a parody of a scene in a Hollywood movie about a Hollywood movie. The guy is sitting there with his feet up on the desk and he has these three or four male cronies sitting around, and he’s cracking jokes and they’re all laughing heartily at his jokes. Eventually he said, “So you want to write a script,” and I said “Yeah.” I started telling him about it, and he kept interrupting me. He was horrified to learn that Karen Silkwood, a single mother, had left her children with their grandparents so she could take a well-paying job at the plant.  “No one would ever go to see a movie about a woman who leaves her children,” he announced.  Basically, the interview was over at that point.  He looked at me and asked if I knew how to type.  When I said yes, he said,

“Well, you could come and be a typist here.”

JK: My god.

LR: At that point, I said, “I think you’ve really got too much going on here to pay attention, so I think this isn’t working too well.” He sprang up from his desk and stalked off, bright red, furious. He came back and said, “I have never been so insulted in my life.” That was the end of that. {Laughs.}

{Note: For what it’s worth, Rose’s instincts were good. Director Mike Nichols’ take on the Silkwood story, starring Meryl Streep and written by Nora Ephron, was released in 1983.}

LR: Then, because I’d written a horror movie, I was offered other projects. One was to be a murder film involving Debbie Harry, the lead singer with Blondie, the rock group.  The only requirement as far as the potential director was concerned was that it needed to have seven or eight murders. The rest was up to me. I met Debbie Harry and talked to her to get a sense of what she could do. You just get a sense of what people can do. She had no acting background.

JK: Would this have been her first picture?

LR: It would have been, I think, but it was never made. At one point, she said “Well, I just want to play the part of a housewife in the movie.” And I thought she’d be more believable as the person she actually was.  So I made it about a rock group beset by a number of murders. I think it had seven murders. Then I came back for the next meeting. She’d read the script and said, “I can’t do this movie; it’s the story of my life.” And I thought, WHAT? {Laughs.}. I mean, WHAT? So that one didn’t happen.

JK: So that was, what, around 1980?

LR: I think so, late Seventies or early Eighties. Something like that.

JK: So that was after Monique was made?

LR; {pause} So you know about that.

JK: Yes.

LR: How did you find out about that?

JK: Well, it’s listed on your filmography online, and I’ve seen it.

LR: {Sighs heavily and laughs} It has very little to do with me. Believe me, I’ve seen it also. That’s the thing about screenwriting. Who knows? You sit at home and do your writing, but who knows what will emerge?

I was hired by a French would-be feature film director who had done film work for a famous French fashion house.   He wanted a story about a woman who becomes psychotic when she learns her husband is gay and proceeds to murder a bunch of gay men.

I don’t recognize the script part of it and wish I didn’t have a credit on it. It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever seen, and I think you can agree with me.

JK: I was going to hold my tongue.

LR: Well, don’t.

JK: It was pretty bad. But I will tell you, it is extremely hard to find nowadays.

LR: Good.

And then there was the time an agent called and said she had a project for me, and that I didn’t have to do my best writing; I could do my second best writing.

JK: That sounds promising.

LR: Well as a writer if someone called and said they had a project but that you’d only have to do your second-best writing, what would you say?

JK: I think I’d ask how much it paid.

LR: But what would be you’re “second-best writing”? It’s like we have it in categories. It’s like, do I want Double A grade eggs? Should they be certified, “humanely raised”? Or do you just want ordinary eggs? How do you apply that to writing? Sure. I can write bad scenes, but I don’t have a special price category for them.

There was another project that I thought was extremely funny. Somebody, God, I can’t even remember who it was anymore; a producer had bought the rights to The Sensuous Woman. Have you heard of that one?

JK: Oh, sure, yes. It was a huge bestseller back then.

LR: It was written by someone only identified as “J” at the time and was supposed to be an advice book. I think one of the funniest suggestions was supposedly made by a woman who found she could have an orgasm by leaning against the dryer when it was running—or maybe it was the washing machine during the final spin cycle.  {laughs}. My job was to take the book and think of some way to dramatize it and turn it into a movie.  The producer, it turned out, had a history of hiring writers and refusing to pay them by claiming that they had not given him a satisfactory script.  The previous writer had been a well-known playwright.

JK: So it was around that point you decided to walk away from films?

LR: I didn’t walk away in the sense that I said, “I’m not doing film-script writing anymore.”  But, I wanted to do theater, and I was also trying to bring up a daughter. The head of my college theater department, Wil Leach, had gone to work as artistic director at Joe Papp’s Shakespeare Festival.  Wil decided to do an all-black version of Mother Courage. It was to be set in America at the time of the Indian Wars. Post-Civil War. Everything was recast, and he didn’t use the Brecht score. He had a composer to do a new score, and he had a black lyricist, who said, “I’m not doing this, it doesn’t pay enough.” Will knew that I had done lyrics for a couple of theatre pieces I worked on in college. So he asked if I would like to do it. It was a really interesting project, taking the Brecht lyrics in German and finding an equivalent way to do them for this production. I don’t know German, so they gave me a German professor from Wesleyan, and we went over the lyrics word by word. We talked a lot about the connotations of the words. I had a Black English dictionary, and I had all kinds of materials. I just loved doing that.

JK: Now when was this, roughly?

LR: In 1980. Before that I also did a couple of plays at La MaMa, one of which went to Off Broadway. It seems when I look back at the things I’ve done, so many of them involve really painful experiences. I think I’m not well suited to keeping my eye on the ball. I keep getting sidetracked, thinking I don’t want to lose friends, don’t want to make anybody miserable and don’t want anyone to make me miserable. Some people have been able to somehow find a home, a theatrical home. I did not.  My last production was in Seattle.  

JK: What was the play?

LR: It was a play about Catherine the Great. I wanted to write a reflective two-character play based on Catherine’s own writing about her life before she became an Empress. She was a teenager when she went to Russia to marry the heir to the throne, an alcoholic teenage boy from Sweden. Somehow it morphed into a much bigger deal, a costume extravaganza.  I had a wonderful director, Elizabeth Huddle, who was Intiman’s Artistic Director.  But, I had horrible reviews in the Seattle papers, and so that was when I gave up.  

I’ve written three non-fiction books with my husband, who is a physician.

JK: What were they?

LR: The first one was for consumers about how to use healthcare, how to talk to doctors, what to do when a hospital admission was necessary. The second book was called The Too-Precious Child, and it was about parents who become so involved with their own wishes and fears about their child that they are unable to experience his or her needs. They might be very loving or not but they are unable to take the child’s actual self into account. The book was published in 1989, and the problem we discussed seems to have gotten massively worse.

We wrote the third book for Consumer Reports to help people understand the basic types of health insurance, how to choose the best plan for one’s circumstance, and how to get the most out of its coverage. My husband was CEO of a health plan and understood the issues, but I could identify with consumers who were trying to figure out how things worked. It took me two weeks and tears of frustration to understand how a family benefit works. Insurance terminology was painful, but I figured if I could be made to understand it, I could explain it to people. Maybe I could turn that into a movie {laughs}. I’ll go pitch that one.  

by Jim Knipfel

[cinema-tv-etc]

Nevertheless Eartha Kitt persisted.

Ms. Kitt, who began performing in the late ’40s as a dancer in New York, went on to achieve success and acclaim in a variety of mediums long before other entertainment multitaskers like Julie Andrews, Barbra Streisand and Bette Midler.

With her curvaceous frame and unabashed vocal come-ons, she was also, along with Lena Horne, among the first widely known African-American sex symbols. Orson Welles famously proclaimed her “the most exciting woman alive” in the early ’50s, apparently just after that excitement prompted him to bite her onstage during a performance of “Time Runs,” an adaptation of “Faust” in which Ms. Kitt played Helen of Troy.

Ms. Kitt’s career-long persona, that of the seen-it-all sybarite, was set when she performed in Paris cabarets in her early 20s, singing songs that became her signatures, like “C’est Si Bon” and “Love for Sale.”

Returning to New York, she was cast on Broadway in “New Faces of 1952” and added another jewel to her vocal crown, “Monotonous” (“Traffic has been known to stop for me/Prices even rise and drop for me/Harry S. Truman plays bop for me/Monotonous, monotone-ous”). Brooks Atkinson wrote in The New York Times in May 1952, “Eartha Kitt not only looks incendiary, but she can make a song burst into flame.”

Shortly after that run, Ms. Kitt had her first best-selling albums and recorded her biggest hit, “Santa Baby,” whose precise, come-hither diction and vaguely foreign inflections (Ms. Kitt, a native of South Carolina, spoke four languages and sang in seven) proved that a vocal sizzle could be just as powerful as a bonfire. Though her record sales fell after the rise of rhythm and blues and rock ’n’ roll in the mid- and late ’50s, her singing style would later be the template for other singers with pillow-talky voices like Diana Ross (who has said she patterned her Supremes sound and look largely after Ms. Kitt), Janet Jackson and Madonna (who recorded a cover version of “Santa Baby” in 1987).

Ms. Kitt would later call herself “the original material girl,” a reference not only to her stage creation and to Madonna but also to her string of romances with rich or famous men, including Welles, the cosmetics magnate Charles Revson and the banking heir John Barry Ryan 3rd. She was married to her one husband, Bill McDonald, a real-estate developer, from 1960 to 1965; their daughter, Kitt Shapiro, survives her, as do two grandchildren.

From practically the beginning of her career, as critics gushed over Ms. Kitt, they also began to describe her in every feline term imaginable: her voice “purred” or “was like catnip”; she was a “sex kitten” who “slinked” or was “on the prowl” across the stage, sometimes “flashing her claws.” Her career has often been said to have had “nine lives.” Appropriately, she was tapped to play Catwoman in the 1960s TV series “Batman,” taking over the role from the leggier, lynxlike Julie Newmar and bringing to it a more feral, compact energy.

Yet for all the camp appeal and sexually charged hauteur of Ms. Kitt’s cabaret act, she also played serious roles, appearing in the films “The Mark of the Hawk” with Sidney Poitier (1957) and “Anna Lucasta” (1959) with Sammy Davis Jr. She made numerous television appearances, including a guest spot on “I Spy” in 1965, which brought her her first Emmy nomination.

For these performances Ms. Kitt likely drew on the hardship of her early life. She was born Eartha Mae Keith in North, S.C., on Jan. 17, 1927, a date she did not know until about 10 years ago, when she challenged students at Benedict College in Columbia, S.C., to find her birth certificate, and they did. She was the illegitimate child of a black Cherokee sharecropper mother and a white man about whom Ms. Kitt knew little. She worked in cotton fields and lived with a black family who, she said, abused her because she looked too white. “They called me yella gal,” Ms. Kitt said.

At 8 she was sent to live in Harlem with an aunt, Marnie Kitt, who Ms. Kitt came to believe was really her biological mother. Though she was given piano and dance lessons, a pattern of abuse developed there as well: Ms. Kitt would be beaten, she would run away and then she would return. By her early teenage years she was working in a factory and sleeping in subways and on the roofs of unlocked buildings. (She would later become an advocate, through Unicef, on behalf of homeless children.)

https://medium.com/aginginbeauty/nevertheless-eartha-kitt-persisted-ffe27d10f79b

[ljones41]

"MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT" (2018) Review

"MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT" (2018) Review Ever since I was a kid, I have always been a fan of the "MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE" franchise . . . with one exception. I was a fan of the 1966-1973 television series, which I had viewed faithfully as a kid. I saw one episode of the 1989-1990 television sequel, but I failed to become a fan. But my enjoyment of the franchise kick started once more with the release of the 1996 film of the same title and I have never looked back.

As many know, the 1996 film, which starred Tom Cruise as IMF Agent Ethan Hunt led to five more films. The latest, "MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT", was released in theaters during the summer of 2018. Written and directed by Christopher McQuarrie, this sixth entry in the movie franchise focused on Ethan and his team's hunt for stolen plutonium. The material had been stolen by a group of terrorists called the Apostles, the remnants from terrorist Solomon Lane's organization called the Syndicate, from "MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - ROGUE NATION". When Ethan and his team - Luther Stickell and Benji Dunn - failed to get their hands on plutonium early in the film, CIA Director Erica Sloane instructs Special Activities Division operative August Walker to shadow and observe Hunt and the others as they attempt to retrieve the plutonium. Thanks to a nuclear weapons expert they had captured named Nils Delbruuk, the team learns that an extremist named John Lark might be behind the Apostles. And in order to get to Lark and the plutonium, Ethan's team might have to kidnap an imprisoned Solomon Lane and deliver him to London without MI-6 agent Ilsa Faust interfering with their plans. Many film critics raved over "MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT" after it first hit the theaters. In fact, some are regarding it as the best installment in the franchise and one of the greatest action films of all time. Do I agree? I honestly do not know. The movie had a few flaws that makes me hesitate to regard it in this manner. One, it featured the return of Solomon Lane. Seeing him in this film, led me to believe there was one too many villains in this film. I honestly wish that Ethan Hunt had scragged Lane at the end of "MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT". And to make matters worse, he was still alive by the end of the film. I also had a problem with Vanessa Kirby's character, an arms dealer named Alanna Mitsopolis aka the White Witch. Apparently, Lark wanted to purchase from her the cores for the plutonium. When Ethan impersonated Lark, she was the one who had demanded that Lane be snatched from a French intelligence convoy that was conveying him to another prison. After this scenario played out, Ms. Mitsopolis had disappeared from the narrative, until it was revealed in the end that she had made a deal with MI-6 to arrange for them to get their hands on Lane. And you know what? This whole scenario involving both Ms. Mitsopolis and Lane seemed a bit convoluted and unnecessary. In fact, I could have done without the presence of either of them. And how on earth did Lane end up in France, when he was arrested in London? Surely as a former MI-6But who knows? Perhaps a re-watch of the film will lead me to change my mind. However, the above complaints are not signs that I did not enjoy the film. Trust me, I still managed to enjoy "MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT". Very much. I agree with many of those critics who praised the film for just about every aspect of it. Yes, I had some squabbles with McQuarrie's plot. But I must admit that I enjoyed other aspects of it. For a minute, I had assumed that once again, Ethan would find himself disavowed by the agency and the C.I.A. Instead, McQuarrie added an interesting element in which the C.I.A. assigned an operative to keep an eye on the activities of Hunt and his team. And the character of August Walker proved to be a breath of fresh air as his arrogant and aggressive persona provided an extra conflict for Hunt to deal with, as they pursue the Syndicate and the missing plutonium. Another addition that spiced up the plot and included a touch of pathos was Ethan's reunion with his ex-wife Julia Meade in Kashmir, where Lane planned to detonate two nuclear weapons and where she and her new husband were representing Doctors Without Borders. Naturally, I cannot discuss a film like "MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT" without pointing out the action sequences. Yes, the movie had plenty of action scenes. But there were a few that stood out for me. One of them featured Ethan and Walker's arrival in Paris via a parachute jump. Okay, that kind of entry struck me as unnecessary and rather clichéd. But I also found it rather entertaining and a perfect way to convey Walker's arrogance and Ethan's impatience with the former. Other exciting action sequences that I found particularly memorable were a brutal fight between a thug mistaken as John Lark and Ethan and Walker inside the bathroom of a Parisian nightclub; and a high-speed chase through the streets of Paris. But for me, the best action scene proved to be the last one which found the IMF team (and surprisingly Julia) racing against time to save Benji from Lane and stop Lark's team from setting off two nuclear weapons over the Siachen Glacier. Needless to say, this action sequence involved Luthor and Julia trying to disable one weapon; Ilsa engaged in a brutal fight against Lane, while attempting to save Benji and disable the second weapon; and Ethan engaged in a wild helicopter chase in order to get his hands on the weapons' detonators, which ends near the edge of a cliff. For me, this entire action sequence was the movie's pièce de résistance.

"MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT" marked the sixth time that Tom Cruise portrayed IMF Agent Ethan Hunt. My first instinct is to wonder when Cruise will stop portraying the character, especially as a man of action. But while watching the film, I had completely forgotten about my doubts and simply enjoyed the film . . . and his performance. Watching Cruise portray Hunt over a period of twenty-two years is like witnessing the aging of fine wine. Thanks to the actor's superb performance, his Ethan Hunt has grown less cocky over the years (to a certain extent), more subtle and definitely more mature. This was especially apparent with Ethan's interactions with the aggressive August Walker.

A fine cast supported Cruise in this film. Like Cruise, Ving Rhames as IMF computer tech/hacker Luther Stickell has been with the franchise since the beginning. And he was marvelous as usual as the pragmatic Luther Sticknell. I especially enjoyed the poignant performance he gave in one scene that featured Luther's own reunion with Julia Meade. Simon Pegg was funny as ever as the slightly skittish Benji Dunn, whose skills as a field agent seemed to grow with each movie. Michelle Monaghan returned to portray Ethan's ex-wife, Julia. I enjoyed her role a lot better in this film. The actress finally had a chance to portray Julia as a breathing individual, instead of some feminine ideal. Three actors from "ROGUE NATION" returned to appear in this film. Rebecca Ferguson gave an excellent performance in her second outing as former MI6 agent Ilsa Faust, who is determined to return Solomon Lane back in the hands of her agency. Sean Harris reprised his role as former MI6 agent-turned-terrorist, Solomon Lane. I admit that I wanted the franchise to focus on a new Big Bad, but I cannot deny that Harris' performance was as creepy as it was in the fifth film. I enjoyed Alec Baldwin's portrayal of Alan Hunley, the former CIA Director who later became the new IMF Secretary, in this film than I did in "ROGUE NATION". Once his character ceased to be Ethan's antagonist, Baldwin was able to skillfully portray him as intelligent and practical man, instead of a buffoon. And yes . . . "FALLOUT" featured some new kids on the block. Many critics were very impressed by Vanessa Kirby's portrayal of black market arms dealer, Alanna Mitsopolis. I found her performance very entertaining, but I was not that dazzled. Wes Bentley gave a solid performance as Julia's new husband, Erik. I only wish that the screenplay had explored his character a bit more. I was impressed by Angela Bassett's performance as the pragmatic and ruthless Erika Sloane, the C.I.A. Director who had replaced Hunley. I especially enjoyed her scenes with both Baldwin and Henry Cavill that allowed her to convey the extent of Sloane's paranoia. But the real surprise turned out to be Cavill, who gave a superb performance as August Walker, the C.I.A. assassin, who had been assigned by Sloane to monitor Ethan's team, following their loss of the plutonium cores. What I admired about Cavill's performance is how he managed to skillfully convey not only Walker's penchant for aggressiveness, but also the character's cool manner and rampant arrogance. His Walker was a real prick and it was no wonder that he drove Ethan up the wall. Despite a few problems I had with the movie, I really enjoyed it. In fact, I can honestly say that "MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT" is my second favorite film in the franchise. No wonder the critics loved it. And I can thank a superb cast led by Tom Cruise, and Christopher McQuarrie for his first-rate screenplay and excellent direction.