#and lindsay did such a great job

[chittychittyyangyang]

I’m sorry! Is this a BAD TIME?

[permanentreverie]

the joys of my coworker texting me and asking if she could have one of my shifts vs the horror of her wanting the Sunday shift

[shieldofiron]

Hello

But what about Steve who got kicked out by his parents when he came out as bi and somehow made it to California and ends up doing sex work and finds it is something he is good at and having a huge dick is good for something for a change. He also does some high end escort work too cos he knows all the etiquette stuff, thanks to his upbringing.

He's got his regulars, men and women, and a little apartment and there's this golden guy who looks like a freaking god who goes past every morning on a run, super early, when Steve has a coffee on his balcony. Steve starts thinking about him when he's jerking off or when he's with clients, he can't help himself.

And then one day he shows up at this fancy hotel to be some rich guy's escort for the night and it's the guy he's been seeing run past his balcony every morning.

Mr Hargrove, CEO of something.

Anyway, that's what I was thinking about just now while I was waiting for you to tell me the super sad bit of your idea.

<3

The request is kind of weird.

Normally people request him in lingerie, something filmy and sexy that frames his body. When it's not that it's suits, from a casual sports coat all the way to a tuxedo, and he keeps it all in his closet.

"You know what it means?" Angela's gum snaps on the phone.

"Green basketball shorts?" Steve scratched his temple, "Not really. I think I have some from high school."

"Well, if they're tight," Angela said, "And he said sneakers. High white socks."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Okay. Weirdo. Did he say anything about sex acts?"

"Anal," Her gum pops.

"No shit, it's a guy," Steve rolls his eyes.

"He just asked what you looked like, honestly. Wanted a guy with brown eyes, brown hair, real pretty," Angela clicked her long nails against the counter, "Other than the outfit he wasn't too talkative. Sexy ass voice. He requested you specifically. Got all perked up when I said the name. Stephan the King only."

Steve shrugged, "Okay. Whatever."

Most of the time he wasn't too concerned with what his clients wanted. He was flexible in more ways that one, happy to bottom or top or escort them to the opera or just listen. Most of the time, the job was just listening, even during sex. Finding out what people liked and being that came naturally to him. He was good at bullshit, as Nancy would say. He was a great hooker.

He'd made his job bullshit. He got paid an ungodly amount by the hour to spread his legs or spread someone else's, and he was good at it. Hooked up with an agency that specialized in high quality work, and kept the total weirdos away from him.

His roommate Jason Carver had a good hand with the weirdos anyway. He was always getting the odd calls where he had to dress up in costumes and came home to their apartment at odd hours, covered in weird substances, his legs shaky until Steve made him take a shower. Last night it had been grape jelly.

And so here Steve was, not covered in jelly, sitting in a plush hotel room in Malibu with his Hawkins high shorts pushed down his thighs, trying to finger himself and thinking about his favorite spank bank material.

Steve didn't know the guy's name, but he called him the runner. Always running at 5 am, long blonde curls streaming behind him. He looked like the models on the covers of those Johanna Lindsay romance novels, the practically-bondage porn that he'd devoured in high school during sleepless nights.

He imagined the running slowing down when he got to Steve's balcony, his bronze skin gleaming and his blonde beard hiding a devilish smirk.

The smirk may be borrowed... maybe the shorts have him remembering some other sleepless nights in high school.

Steve is loose, last night he was working with a couple, and so he's pretty stretched out, which means he can concentrate on just relaxing, brushing his fingers ever so softly over his prostate as he imagines the runner smirking, his voice a hazy blend of movie stars and devilish California drawling.

He kicks up his feet on the bed, working himself shamelessly in time with his finger's motions. He rolls the tip of his pointer over the small nub of his prostate while he works a fourth finger inside.

The alarm on his watch goes off and he makes a winded noise, halfway between a whine and a groan. He was just getting to the good part of the fantasy, where the runner would position him, ass up, over his tiny Venice balcony and eat him out like he was trying to make Steve cum before the dawning of the apocalypse. He would rub his face all over that golden beard, ride him like a stallion. Steve rode his fingers through one more wave, heat crashing down his spine, before he pulled out, tugging up his shorts over his painful erection and rushing to the bathroom to wash his hands and check his hair.

He didn't have to do all this prep but it made his job more enjoyable. Most clients didn't want to go through a lot of foreplay, obviously. But he did like coming too, and it wasn't like he was taking ten clients a night. Might as well have fun.

He was all positioned on the bed when the guy came in. Ready for the masc fantasy, legs spread, his arms on his knees. His dick was lewdly outlined by the tiny shorts, but he guessed they weren't going to the opera so that should be okay.

"In here," He called out, holding his breath until the guy came around the corner.

That devilish smirk fell right to pieces.

"Harrington," The man gasped, the word more breath than it was noise.

"Billy??"

"What are you doing here? Is it Max? Is she okay?" Billy's face is vulnerable, pale under his golden beard.

Steve thinks of the last time they'd seen him, driving off into the dead of the night while Max had cried. She'd begged for Steve's help to move Billy out, and the last he'd seen of Billy Hargrove it was just him chuffing Max on the chin, telling her to be brave.

"She's okay, I..." Steve shook his head, "I'm just here to meet a client."

"Client..." Billy ran a hand over his eyes, and then dropped it over his mouth.

"Yeah, sorry, they must have given me the wrong key at the front I'm supposed to meet-"

"Killian Handcock?"

Steve froze.

"Yeah," Billy sighed, "That's me."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Look, sorry for all this. I'll pay, of course, for your time," Billy began to dig in the pocket of his suit jacket.

"No, whoa, it's okay," Steve waved his hands, "It's okay."

"Obviously, you wouldn't-"

"We can still-"

Billy blinked at him.

"I just mean. It's fine, right. We know why we're here," Steve glances down at his outfit, "You really didn't know it was me?"

"Fuck," Billy dragged a hand down his face, "This is so fucking humiliating."

"No, really," Steve chuckled, "What high school crush am I supposed to be?"

The words are out of his mouth before he's fully able to think them through. It's all obvious later but in the moment, he's thinking of all the guys in their school with brown eyes... brown hair... real pretty...

Billy moves towards him, his face flashing angrily, and then he rears back, nearly slamming into the giant tv that dominates the far wall.

Startle response, Steve remembered from when Billy came back. If he so much as put his hands towards someone he would flinch, remembering what the Mind Flayer made him do.

Steve wasn't being a very good hooker. He wasn't listening. Wasn't thinking.

"You know," Steve sat back on the bed slowly, no quick movements. "I used to read these romance novels in high school. Kind of cheesy, definitely NOT always with the best consent. But... sometimes they'd have these tough guys, kind of take charge guys. And I used to imagine you... taking charge of me."

Billy just blinks at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

Steve spread his legs, just casually.

"Is that what you used to imagine too?" Steve asked.

"Maybe," Billy says in a cracked voice.

"Tell me," Steve urged.

It takes Billy a moment, fumbling with his fancy wool jacket. He hasn't flashed the cash yet, but Richard Harrington's son recognizes an expensive suit when he sees it. Billy's got the money to pay.

Not that Steve's thinking much about payment when Billy starts talking, in that movie star drawl.

"Wanted you to fuck me. Me to fuck you. Wanted to turn you inside out and shake you like pants at the laundromat," Billy whispered, "See what falls out."

Steve bit off a moan that wasn't practiced, wasn't planned. They haven't touched for years. Not since after Starcourt, careful touches around Billy's healing body, friendly, boyish nudges. Nothing like this.

"Wanted to touch you," Billy's face is so raw with longing, blue eyes sparking, it's almost hard to look at, "Touch you all up and down those long legs. Wrap you around me like a scarf. Keep me warm. Indiana's cold as shit and you always looked so warm."

Steve spread his legs further, "I run hot."

Billy reached back and undoes his hair, and it's only as it streams down his shoulders that Steve realizes, almost chuckling if it wasn't for the open, bare way Billy's looking at him. Like Steve is some kind of dream come true.

And the thing is that Steve's a happy hooker. He's not looking for any pretty woman ending.

But... you know sometimes he imagines. Imagines a guy with long blonde hair pulling him close after sex and calling him honey, baby, sweetness.

Billy takes a step forward and Steve smiles at him.

"I'm assuming you don't want me scared, or nervous," Steve runs a hand up his knee.

Billy shakes his head.

"Boyfriend experience," Steve offers, but it doesn't sound like a question, because he's not asking.

Billy's telling him, in the trembling hand that finally finds it's way to Steve's knee, the heavy swallow when Steve tips his head back, letting Billy into his space.

Steve knows. He's listening.

"This a... you have rules..." Billy's voice is gruff, low. Barely heard over the hum of the ac and the distant traffic from the street below.

"I kiss," Steve cocks his head to the side, "I do just about anything. For you."

He runs his hand over the back of Billy's, just tracing the road map of his veins. The long route that led them both here.

"Billy," Steve breathes.

It was just like he imagined Billy Hargrove would kiss. Hard and rough and desperate, like they were about to be ripped apart. Maybe they were, because Steve was clinging too, and it wasn't bullshit. He was shocked to find it was true, every word of it.

He fell open on the bed, half smothered by Billy's bulk, and he reveled in it, wrapping his legs around Billy and tugging him until his full weight pressed Steve to the bed.

Billy broke their kiss with a rough pant against Steve's lips, "Don't wanna crush you, Pretty Boy."

Steve urged, tugging Billy harder, "What a way to go."

Billy's laugh felt different close up, and his beard was softer than it looked, tickling Steve's face. His kiss was hot, and he sank into Steve like a hot knife through butter.

Steve was used to having to work himself up, he forgot what a revelation it was to just kiss. They rolled around together like they invented it, gasping at tugging nips and sucked tongues like they had never done this shit before.

Billy cradled his face like he was trying to memorize it, barely even dry humping him.

And Steve was losing it a little, because the boyfriend experience never felt like this. Never felt like years of knowledge and a "be brave, shitbird."

Never like this.

He undressed Billy like his life depended on it, running his hands up and down Billy's scars and feeling like he could cry, or laugh or something. Somehow, Billy was now the slow one, holding him carefully, like Steve might break. And Steve was the animal, the cyclone, kissing Billy hard, rubbing up on him like a cat in heat.

Because it was Billy, Billy Hargrove, and he was murmuring about honey and sweetheart, and he was begging Steve in soft words to just, "let me take care of you, that's all I want. Want to wrap those legs around my head and drown in 'ya, Harrington."

Steve shook his head, trembling when Billy rolled his hands around Steve's cock through the shorts, pulling Billy closer with his legs.

"I'm ready," Steve whispered, "Want you inside of me. Please, Billy, let's not wait."

"M'Pretty Boy," Billy whispered back, sounding tortured. His brows were drawn up as if in pain, and he cradled Steve's cheek in one hand.

"Billy," Steve pulled Billy back by that long gorgeous hair, "Just fuck me. Please, God, I really want you to fuck me, please."

Billy had a slightly troubled look, but he nodded, tugging at Steve's shorts with gentle hands, chuckling softly when Steve reaches down and yanks them off roughly, losing them in the rumpled bed instantly.

Steve just rolled his legs up, not wanting to part before he gets into position and-

"Condoms," Billy gasped, his eyes jolting to Steve's face.

"Yes... fuck... sorry, yes, I have some, they're on the nightstand."

It's like dousing them both with ice water. Billy pulls back, looking at Steve and then looking down.

They sit there a moment.

"I want you to know," Billy said in a cracked voice after a long pause, his back to Steve. "I'm not a creep. I haven't thought of you in... in a long time. I don't like... hire guys and make them pretend to be you or nothing like that. I just..."

Steve waits, just listening. After a while he reaches a hand out and putting it on Billy's shoulder, rubbing slightly.

"I'm not a creep. I'm not gonna follow you home and t-throw you in a trunk or something-"

"Stop," Steve said, rubbing Billy's back in slow circles. "I don't think that."

"I just mean.... I'll pay," Billy said it gruffly, "If you have another client tonight, you gotta rush, that's ok. But if you have the night, I'll pay."

Steve looks down, catching a glimpse of Billy's hands, tangled together in his lap, holding the condom that he grabbed from the bedside table. He's just as beautiful as he used to be, maybe more so. He's got a layer of fat over his muscles that makes him look softer, his hair is long and soft, and even the beard, it takes away all his rough edges.

"I don't have to rush," Steve said. "Why'd you have me dress up, Billy?"

"I just saw someone, the other day. Been seeing him. In Venice. This guy, he's always wearing these loose robes and he hangs out on his balcony in the morning," Billy bit his lip, "Sometimes with a blonde guy. Boyfriend or something. Anyway, he kinda looks like you. And my boyfriend dumped me like a year ago, because I'm still a total freakshow. Issues on issues on issues. So I thought, fuck it. Why don't I just... be the freakshow I am."

"You're not a freakshow."

Billy chuckles, "Trust me. I am. Pining after a high school... nothing. You didn't even like me."

"I-"

"Don't pretend," Billy looks at him, eyes glistening, "Don't you bullshit me, Harrington."

"I'm not," Steve says, heart in his throat. "I'm not bullshitting. Haven't been from the moment you walked in here."

Billy says nothing, just looking at him.

"I don't have to rush," Steve shook his head. "And if tomorrow, you just leave, and there's money on the stand... that's totally cool. But I'm rushing because... because..."

Billy just watches. Listens.

"Because I'm really glad to see you again, Billy. Really glad. And I wouldn't mind," Steve steels himself for rejection, sucking in a breath. "Seeing you after tonight."

Billy's brow furrows, and he looks down at his hands again.

"Like... maybe for real. And I can wear actual clothes. And no one has to pay anyone. And I'll know who you are. You'll know who I am. And I'll take you back to Venice to meet my roommate, who you already fucking know, I think."

Billy's blinking hard, and it takes Steve a moment to realize he's crying.

"Billy," He whispers, "Honey. Sweetheart."

Billy reaches out and cradles Steve's cheeks, pulling him into his lap and then into a kiss.

"I don't think you're a creep, Billy," Steve wraps his legs around Billy, and holds him safe and warm, "I know you. I know you."

Billy makes a wounded noise, like he doesn't know if that's a good or a bad thing. But then he starts running his hands down Steve's chest, tugging on his chest hair and rolling his nipples between his fingers, and Steve goes kind of cock dumb and wild again, rolling his hips, seeking to get closer. He wants Billy to press him to the bed, crush him with his weight.

It's just a happy blur, punctuated by moments of crystal clear sweetness. Billy presses his cock inside of Steve after a long, leisurely, lovely trip between Steve's legs. It turns out his tongue really is magic like the girls used to write on the bathroom walls. Steve's heart is beating like a jackhammer and he's sweating like he did so long ago in high school, his hair flopping in his face as Billy drives into him hard.

"You used to look so fuckin' cute in these little shorts," Billy growled, "Put them on again. Wanna push them to the side, get you all fucked out and gorgeous. Want you to cum in them, pressed all up against the waistband."

And maybe Jason's rubbing off on Steve because he does, slides the somewhat wrecked shorts over his sweaty ass and flops back on the bed. He practically presents his ass on a Hawkins green platter, moaning all slutty.

"Used to dream about them every night," Billy rubs him through the shorts, "Used to think about you in the hospital. When you would wear that fucking family video vest and come drive Max. You got me through physical therapy."

Steve looked over his shoulder, still working his ass back on Billy's cock, "I still have the vest."

"Fuck... fuck..." Billy actually covers his face with his hands, "Is this real? This is real right, not fake bullshit?"

Steve's literally got a cock in his ass, and it's normally not how he does stuff, but he looks back, because seriously?

"Billy. I said I wanna see you? I like you? Now can you please keep fucking me, I'm so close."

Billy finally smiles that smile, that devilish grin, "At your service, Sweetheart."

And then he rocks his hips up and back in a way that presses right against that sweet spot that makes Steve see stars. He cums so hard it does soak into the shorts like Billy said, and Billy rubs it in messily, groaning and pressing his head to Steve's back.

Steve goes boneless on the bed, not even moving when Billy pulls his softening cock out and gets up.

There's a moment when Steve's heart skips a beat that he thinks Billy's gonna slap down an envelope of cash and ask him to leave. And that would be fine. Could be totally fine.

But instead he tugs the covers back and helps Steve under, wrapping his arms around Steve and holding him close to his heart.

"You meant that, about seeing me again?" Billy says softly.

"Yeah, weren't you listening?" Steve plays with the silver medallion that hangs across Billy's collarbone.

"Yeah, I was listening," Billy kisses Steve's temple softly, and Steve's heart flutters like a cartoon duck. "How about we start with breakfast tomorrow. I got a good amount, let's give someone the tip of their life. And I think you need waffles. Pancakes. Whatever the hell you want."

Normally, Steve would call bullshit. But Billy's got a Cartier tank ticking where he tucks a sweaty lock behind Steve's ear. And he knows Billy. He trusts him.

Steve tugs on the necklace until Billy gets the hint and draws him into another filthy kiss.

Steve's normally a pretty good hooker. He's not looking for a Pretty Woman ending.

But it turns out he's a bit of a sucker for the boyfriend experience.

---

This got WAY long. I'll proably put it up on ao3. @intothedysphoria and @dragonflylady77 be proud of me plz.

[lvrhughes]

You Didn't Deserve That | T. Zegras

pairing: Trevor Zegras x gn!reader (as far as i can remember)

word count: 1.1k

this was requested!

not my gif!

Dating a famous hockey player had its perks, and its downfalls. Such as hate, so much of it. New comments everyday, some new post saying you weren’t good enough for him, if you thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. To the point of ruining your relationship. 

“We’re done, Trevor.” 

“What?” he was clearly dazed, having just gotten back from practice. 

“We’re done. I need to leave.” 

“What? No, what’s going on?” 

He didn’t get much of an argument when you slipped around him and bolted out the door, but he could say he tried. Which leads to your meeting him again, literally running into him. 

You were late for your first day of a new job, you knew Trevor played for the ducks (how could you not?) but this job was too good to pass up, so you took it in hopes of not focusing on him.

“Y/n?” The shock was clearly evident in his voice.

“Hey, Trev.” 

“What are you doing here?” you finally glanced down at his attire, all his gear on, clearly headed to the ice.

“I uh- got a job here.” it was awkward to admit you’d be working with the man whose heart you broke for apparently no reason. 

“Oh congrats.” he did not sound at all enthusiastic, “Well, we should go for a drink tonight and catch up, you know I’ve missed you.” 

“Oh, um sure. I’m off at seven.”

“Great, see you then, I’ll pick you up here.” he nodded, walking away before you could say anything else. 

You froze for a minute, letting your mind settle before remembering why you were running through the halls in the Honda Arena. 

“Shit.” you cursed under your breath. 

“Straight down the hall, first door on the right.” you heard yelling down the hall, Trevor's voice recognizable. 

“Thank you.” you yelled back, running in the directions he gave.

It was a great first day, your boss wasn’t mad you were late, knowing the struggle, admitting she’d done it on her first day too. The day flew by and if you could’ve stayed longer you would’ve, but you had drinks with Trevor. 

“Goodnight, Lindsay.” You yelled out the door, headed down the hallway again. 

“Hey” You jumped at the voice appearing beside you. Trevor, looking at you, a smirk across his face. “Sorry, did I scare you?” his tone teasing.

“Asshole.” you mumbled, shoving him towards the wall. 

“Hey, hey that’s not very nice.” 

“Well you scaring me wasn’t very nice!” you shot back, making him laugh. 

“It was an accident, I swear.” 

 It fell into a comfortable silence the rest of the way, the walk to his car, the drive to the bar. It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means but you  could feel he had words to say. It stayed like that until you two had a table, sipping on your newly acquired drinks.

“Why did you do it?” This question making you choke on your drink.

“What?”

“Why?”

“You’re staring off strong” you tried to joke, falling short when the look on his face didn’t falter from the serious stare he was giving. “Okay no jokes..”

You took a deep breath, chugging a bit of your drink, and planned out how your were going to go over this.

“I uh- fuck it’s stupid saying it aloud. It just got too much, everyday I’d find new hate and something new to hate about myself because of it. I thought that if I just left the hate would stop, it didn’t but it lessened so I just deleted everything. I know it was shitty but I couldn't take it anymore, people everyday telling me terrible things, making me believe horrible things about myself, people lying to me trying to get to you or with you. It was so hard and i love you Z, I do but I freaked out and I thought it was stupid so I didn’t come to you. You deal with it everyday and never did you do something this stupid.”

“Baby, oh you didn’t deserve that.” he cooed, his hand intertwining with yours. “And I’ve done plenty stupid, it was all just too much I get it baby, I do, but you should’ve come to me.” 

“I know but I felt so weak.” you groaned, if he knew one thing he knew you hated admitting anything. 

“You are not weak, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.” 

“I love you Z, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay baby, we’re moving on, as long as you’re still mine now, yeah?”

“Of course, Trev.” 

His smile immediately grew on his face, a small sound of enthusiasm squeaked from his lips as he practically hopped the table to hug you. His arms wrapped tight against your waist, holding you against him.

“Trev,” you whispered into his hair, he hummed in reply, “Can we go home?” 

“Of course baby.” was all he said, picking you up, bringing you to his car. It was a short ride, but peaceful almost lulling you to sleep, seeing Jamie peek through the window when the two of you pulled up. 

“You’re together again!” he cheered when Trevor carried you in, head tucked into his neck.

“Shush man, they’re almost asleep!” Trevor hushed his roommate. 

“Opps” was all Jamie managed in response. 

Trevor carried you, as gently as he could, to his room. Laying you down on the bed, grabbing out some of his clothes for you to sleep in. 

“Baby,” he whispered, peppering you in kisses to wake you, “you’ve got to get changed, i know you hate sleeping in your clothes.” 

“I don’t want to move.” you groan, not moving, still laying in Trevor's bed. 

“I’ll help, come on baby, just a little cooperation please.” you hummed in reply, slowly standing. He was gentle, removing your clothes but keeping his eyes everywhere but on your partially exposed body. Even if he had seen it before, he was still as respectful as he could be. 

“You can lay back down baby, I’ll be right back, okay?”

You let a hum in reply, before letting the words hit you.

“Wait, don't go, come sleep.” you whined at him, putting grabby hands out towards his walking-away figure.

“I’ll be right back then i’ll come sleep.” 

You groan in reply, curling onto your side to wait for him. He was back in less then a minute, now wearing less clothes then he’d left in. 

“Where’d your clothes go?” he laughed at the question, sliding in bed with you, pulling you tight against him.

“I threw your clothes and mine in the laundry, you’ll have clean, warm clothes in the morning.”

“Oh my goodness, I love you.” 

“I love you too baby, now let’s sleep.”

You yawned in agreeance, nuzzling against him more, accepting the kisses he was peppering over you.  

[destinedfordiaperstories]

Sammy's Little Problem, Chapter 18

Read Chapter 17 here.

As they walked out of Littles’R’Us, Alyssa stopped and kneeled in front of Sammy. “Thank you for handling this like such a big girl, Sammy. I know it was difficult for you, but I’m really proud of you!”

A proud smile crept across Sammy’s face, “thank you, Allie. It was a lot to take it, but I’m glad I did it with you! I’d be so scared if you weren’t my Caregiver…”

Alyssa leaned in to hug Sammy. As she did, she remembered her favorite ice cream parlor was next door to Littles’R’Us. “I’m glad you’re my Little, Sammy. I want you to always remember that. Even when you get mad or yell at me, I’ll always love you. And, since you’ve been so good today, what do you think about getting some ice cream before we take the shuttle home?”

Ice cream did sound amazing to Sammy. “Yes, I love ice cream!”

Alyssa held out her hand. To her surprise, Sammy grabbed it without hesitation. Alyssa beamed.

“What flavor do you want, Sammy?” Alyssa asks.

“Ummmm....pink bubble gum!” Sammy bubbled.

“Cone or cup?” the man at the counter asks.

“Cone!” Sammy responds immediately.

“Are you sure, Sammy? I don’t want you to drop it!” Alyssa added.

“I can use cones! I won’t spill, Allie!” Sammy assured Alyssa.

“Well, okay, Sammy, but you need to be careful!” Alyssa entreated.

The man handed the ice cream to Alyssa, and they went to find a table. Alyssa hesitantly gives Sammy her ice cream

“Mmmmm, I love bubble gum, it’s so yummy and pink!” Sammy chirps happily. She greedily licks it. Ice cream smudges on her cheeks.

Alyssa watches on, taking it all in. Sammy looks so cute right now. Not even realizing how childish she looks or the mess she’s making. She couldn’t resist another picture. “Sammy, can you smile for me?”

Sammy does, pink ice cream smeared on her cheeks. Alyssa’s heart flutters as she sends it to her Mom and Lindsay.

“I wanna see!” Sammy demands.

Alyssa shows it to her. Sammy snapped out of her Little haze. “W-why didn’t you tell me I had ice cream on me, Allie? It’s so embarrassing!”

“Oh Sammy, stop, you looked so cute! You’re doing such a great job with your cone!” Alyssa gushed, wiping Sammy’s face with a napkin.

Sammy huffed but went back to her ice cream cone. Two licks later, Sammy knocks the ice cream off the cone, hitting the ground with a splat.

Sammy immediately reacted. Tears welling in her eyes. “I-I s-s-sorry, Allie,” Sammy blubbered, “I didn’t mean to!”

“It’s okay, Sammy, that’s why I think you should use cups in the future.” Alyssa tried to say over Sammy’s sobs.

Suddenly, the man working the counter appears with another scoop of ice cream and a rag. He kneels in front of Sammy. “Don’t worry, little one! We all drop our ice cream every once in a while! But know what fixes it? A new scoop!” he said showing Sammy the new cup.

Alyssa gives him a massive smile, “what do you say to him, Sammy!”

“T-thank you!” Sammy says, composing herself as she grabs the cup.

“You’re very welcome,” Sammy replies.

Alyssa gets up to pay for the additional scoop. “No need, ma’am,” he says, “I opened up next to a Littles’R’Us so I can make Littles happy, dropped ice cream is part of the job!”

“Well, I appreciate it!” Alyssa responds as he walks away to help another customer.

After Sammy finishes, she yawns deeply. Alyssa realizes it's getting close to nap time for Sammy. They should probably head home soon or Sammy will have another tantrum.

“You ready to head home?”

“Yeah.”

They get back to Littles’R’Us as the shuttle arrives.

“Perfect timing!” Alyssa says to the driver. She provides him with her address, and they get into the shuttle.

Sammy’s heart sinks when she sees the car seat. “Do I have to use it, Allie?”

“Yes, Sammy, but it’s not too far of a drive!”

“…okay,” Sammy whines.

Alyssa lifts Sammy into the seat and places her down. She pulls the straps over Sammy’s shoulders, clicking them into the buckle pulled over Sammy’s diaper. “Is it too tight, Sammy?” she asks, adjusting the straps.

Sammy just shakes her head no. Being strapped in like this, diaper exposed, is overwhelming. She hates that this is how she will sit in every car from now on—trapped like a baby, waiting for their Caregiver to release them.

Tears well up in her eyes again. She’s about to cry when Alyssa leans over and puts her pacifier in Sammy’s mouth. Sammy immediately calms down. Still on the verge of tears but significantly less emotionally volatile.

“Don’t worry, Sammy, you’re okay,” Alyssa says, stroking Sammy’s hair.

The last thing Sammy remembers before falling asleep is looking into Alyssa’s eyes, happy.

Alyssa carries Sammy back into the house, putting Sammy down to nap in Alyssa’s room. With any luck, Sammy will sleep the entire time they install everything in Sammy’s nursery. She checks Sammy’s diaper, noting that it should last another hour or two, perfect timing to try out the new changing table.

Alyssa directed the installers on where to place all the furniture, realizing that Littles’R’Us were highly competent and thorough. Four men were sent, each effectively handling their tasks. Two men went to work removing the old bed and building Sammy’s crib (though Alyssa knows not to call it that yet), another man went to work on the changing table.

The fourth man went around the house, babyproofing anything dangerous. Plastic covers were placed on every socket. Any sharp edges of tables or counters received a small plastic covering. Once he finished, he brought in the boxes of diapers and clothes, unpacking them.

Within an hour and a half, they were finished.

After Alyssa thanked them for everything, she went into Sammy’s nursery. It looked better than she ever imagined. Sammy’s crib looked so cute. The changing table was ready for Sammy, diapers expertly stacked for easy access, and changing supplies ready to go. She went through the dresser, looking at all Sammy’s clothes.

Alyssa sat on the rocking chair, tears in her eyes. She had finally gotten everything she dreamed about. Sammy was the perfect Little. She felt needed. Whole.

She Facetimed her Mom and Lindsay, wanting to show them the nursery.

“Oh my gosh, Allie, it looks AMAZING!” her mom congratulates her.

“I love it, too!” Lindsay added, “and Sammy looked so cute eating ice cream! I can’t wait to see her again!”

“Where is Sammy?” her Mom asks.

“She’s taking a nap,” Allie responds, “I wanted to show you guys before she woke up.”

“If there is one thing Sammy will like, it’s all the naps she can take. I swear she took more naps than anyone I ever met,” Lindsay jokes.

“Well, now they’re necessary, if she goes past naptime she has the cutest tantrums,” Allie jokes, “oh, and speaking of the cutest, look at these diapers! I can’t even.” Allie turns the camera to Sammy’s diapers with rocket ships and astronaut teddy bears.

Both her Mom and Lindsay squeal in delight.

“Those are so cute, Allie!” Lindsay says.

“She threw a tantrum when I suggested them, but she eventually came around.”

“Well, I’m glad she did, they’re perfect for her!” Lindsay said.

“Oh, that reminds me, Linds. I need to run some errands tomorrow. I planned to take Sammy, but I had a better idea. What if you “hang out” with her tomorrow while I’m gone?”

“What do you mean “hang out?” Lindsay asks, “why did you say it like that?”

“Well, I don’t consider it hanging out anymore. You’ll be here as her babysitter, not her best friend. But we don’t need to call it that just yet.”

“Ohhh, I get it,” Lindsay replied, “but sure, I’d love to!”

“Great,” Allie responds, “but you will be responsible for her diapers. And, hard as it will be for you, you will be in charge of her as a Little. I don’t want you treating her like your old best friend. You can have fun and talk, but she can only do Little appropriate things. I don’t want you watching adult movies or TV shows, okay?”

Lindsay frowned a bit, understanding what this meant. “Well, she is your Little, Allie. I guess I knew this day would come eventually. When I went from Linds, Sam’s best friend, to Lindsay, Sammy’s babysitter.”

“Do you know how to change a diaper, dear?” her mom chimes in.

“Of course I do, Mom,” Lindsay snaps back, “I’m a Caregiver. It’s instinctual.”

“I’ll show you anyway,” Allie responds, “why don’t you come around one tomorrow after Sammy’s nap?”

“Sounds good!”

Finished with the call, Alyssa heads to wake up Sammy, wondering how she’d react to her new nursery.

Go to Chapter Nineteen.

[lcvesjj]

"You are so cute when you are blushing" - Erin Lindsay x Fem!Reader

Prompt : “You are so cute when you are blushing” “Shut up, I’m not cute. I have a reputation, (Name).” 

Pairing : Erin Lindsay x Fem!Reader (fluff) 

Summary : After a successful undercover case , all Erin wants to do is celebrate with her girlfriend.

Warnings : kissing, jealousy?, mentions of an undercover case, mentions of clubbing?

A/n : this is probably one of my favourite things I've ever written :) (I also wrote this while half asleep so I’m really sorry if it doesn’t make that much sense 😭 )

Erin was so happy to finally be back in the district. After a really long day in the surveillance van watching you and Jay, all she wanted to do was to celebrate and finally be able to kiss you. She was so jealous seeing you dance with Jay. She wanted to go into the club and steal you from him and just hold you in her arms. You were her girl.

“Nice job Y/n, you did well.” Voight said while passing by you. “Thank you Sarge.” You replied with a small smile. 

You started walking away to the locker room to get changed from the way too tight for your liking black mini dress and way too uncomfortable black heels. Erin was right behind you, giving the excuse that she would just check in to see if you were alright. Which in your opinion was a very sweet move. 

“You look amazing.” Erin said while following you. “Thank you so much my love, but I can’t wait to take this whole outfit off. I can’t wait to get out of this dress since it’s so tight.” You laughed while looking back at her. “I’m really proud of you baby! You did amazing undercover and we managed to catch the bad guys thanks to you and Jay.” She smiled while following you through the door of the locker room. 

After putting on your spare clothes. You just said “I’m done.” Signalling that Erin could come back into the locker room, since she had stepped out to give you some privacy while making sure no one could walk in. 

You quickly with the help of Erin put on your necklace that you had left in your locker since you didn’t want it to fall off just in case something happened. It was a simple gold necklace with the letter E on it, that Erin had given you on your 1 year anniversary.  Whenever you were stressed or thinking about something deeply you would often play with it, it was a small reminder that Erin loved you and it was like a small part of her was always with you. 

After finishing putting on your shoes, you both started heading back upstairs to the bullpen. “Great job everyone. You can now head home and I will see you all on Monday. Have a great weekend.” Voight said while going back into his office to grab his coat.

“Wow, I didn’t know we were getting the weekend off.” Jay commented. 

“Don’t jinx it Halstead.” Erin replied while pointing her finger at him. 

“Any plans for the weekend?” Kim asked no one in patricular.

 “Well my plans are staying in with my amazing girlfriend” Erin said while pulling her into her embrace. “Ouch what a way to rub in how you are taken Lindsay.” Adam joked while acting hurt. You all laughed at his silly joke. 

“Not my fault my girlfriend is so cute, Ruzek.” Erin joked in return while pulling you in to give you a small kiss on your cheek. You started blushing so hard, you loved it when she called you her girlfriend. 

“You are so cute when you are blushing.” Erin said to you while looking at you while gently poking your cheek. At her words you hid your face in your hands, feeling your cheeks get even more red. “Shut up, I’m not cute. I have a reputation, Lindsay.” You joked while grinning at her. Erin just pulled you in for a kiss in response. Hearing them all laugh at how adorable the two of you were. 

Soon you all said goodbye and wished each other a nice weekend. Getting into the car with her you simply said “I love you so much Erin.” Erin smiled at you while leaning over to press another kiss to your lips. “And I love you even more Miss Y/l/n.” You just laughed at her in response. How did you get so lucky to meet someone like her?

[theoriginaleppieblack-blog]

Happy Easter, From Paradox.

Sometime in the early 1970s on Easter Sunday morning.

On Easter Sunday, the two swinging bachelors of Paradox are sleeping in. In what was formerly the guest room of Tristam Lindsay's house. Until the phone rings.

<chaos ensues>

Tristam sleepily wrestles with the phone and finally answers, "Lindsay, Shit!" phone drop. more quietly, "Alex, I answered your extension."

From the phone comes the somewhat desperate sounding voice of their bandmate Duncan Cameron.

"Tris, you're allowed to answer your own upstairs extension. I need help! My in-laws are being extremely chaotic and long story short; can I meet you and Alex at Paradox House and drop off the girls for a couple of hours?"

By this point, Alexander Logan has murmured, "S' okay...I don't give out my number." before anxiously joining Tris at the edge of the bed.

Alex: "Is Janey okay? Tris, ask him what's happening..."

Tristam: "Uh...I."

Duncan Cameron: "Do you two have plans? You mother is in town, isn't she? She could help..."

Tristam: "My parents are in Tenerife, it's fine. Um, What's going on?"

Alex: "Ask about Janey."

Duncan Cameron, "Hello Alex. Janey's fine. She's keeping the kids away from the...incident but she wants to ride in the ambulance with her Mother. We need someone to watch the girls."

Tristam: "Jesus Christ, Cammy old man. How chaotic are your in-laws?"

Duncan Cameron, "It's not really as bad as it sounds. It was just an accident with an electric knife, actually. But my family would NOT understand, and they aren't as closeby, anyway..."

Alex: "Of course, we'll pitch in, Cammy..."

They did a great job.

Cammy and the girls, after Gam Gam's finger got sewed back on. No, I don't know where the goat came from.

Another view of Tris and Alex's beautiful new bolthole.

[timandlucy]

fanfic writing, everything with a 5 or 7 ♡

5. What techniques do you use to create believable dialogue?

Oh man, this is embarrassing but sometimes I definitely say stuff out loud to hear how it would sound. 🙈 Keeping dialogue in character is like really important for me.

7. How do you handle writer's block or moments of creative stagnation?

VERY POORLY. Like I'm not kidding, creativity for me is tightly interwoven with my mental health, so when I lose my favorite hobby due to a block, my mental health takes a big toll because I don't have any other hobbies really so... I will often equate my self-worth to my ability to create something.

15. Do you plan your fics or prefer to let the story unfold as you write?

I used to just write without planning whatsoever, which I think was fine because I tend to get in my head too much about it, so if I just sat down and wrote, I at least wrote something. As of last couple of years, mostly due to my friend's influence on me, I've become more of a planner. So I definitely over complicate things and produce way less 😂

17. What's the most memorable comment or review you've received on one of your fics?

I can't possibly choose just one.... I cannot. Every comment is so special because there is a person out there who took time out of their day to compliment my writing. But I will say my most cherished comments are ones that like really dive into it and quote stuff and almost go line by line if that makes sense?

I also have a special place in my heart for @queseraone 's comments, because she's the most unhinged and my best friend and her opinion matters too much to me. So when she screams in the comments I know I did a good job.

25. Are there any specific writing tools that you find helpful?

I used to think a great writing app would fix my writing problems, but most of the time a word doc or a google doc works just as well. Again, writing can be simple if you make it so. I will say using Pinterest as a brainstorming tool has been fun!

27. What two (or more) fandoms would you like to see a crossover for? Would you ever write it?

Oh man. Okay hear me out - Lucy Chen meeting Erin Lindsay. My two faves. Together. I don't really write or read crossovers for that matter, so probably not. But the thought of it is fun!

35. What do you enjoy most about being a fic writer?

The community. Sharing my work with others, seeing how they react to it, knowing it might have made someone's day. Even if it was just one person's. Whining together about being too lazy to write and stuff like that. I've come to find most of the writing community is very supportive and kind and we all go through the same stuff.

[jayswritings13]

Kiss Me - Heather (Total Drama)

Summary: Despite cheesy, the ending kiss is always the best part.

💗Masterlist | AO3

Kiss me, beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

“You look ridiculous.” 

“Shut up.” 

“But, you also look good, too.”

“Obviously,” Heather rolled her eyes. “Not that I had many options with Chris’ tacky tastes. Like, really? The mean girl in hot pink? Cliche much.” She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“You probably had a lot of more options than me to be honest.” You laughed, “Though, you and LeShawna did a great job.” 

“We try.” Heather said, “We’re trying to win the challenge, afterall.” 

“I know. This is probably the most fun I’ve had with a challenge.”

“Bite your tongue before Chris hears and changes the last challenge at the last minute.” She hissed, glaring at you. 

“Would you two move it already?!” Duncan said. “I’d like to actually start the challenge.” 

“Chill, Hot Topic. We’re coming.” Heather spat, slipping her arm around yours, and tugging you with hers towards the makeshift dance floor Chef pulled together. 

“Finally!” Chris huffed, “We’ve been waiting forever.”

“Drama Queen,” You muttered under your breath, causing Heather to snicker. 

“Now that everyone is here, we can begin.” Chris said, “For the last part of the challenge, the losers on the aftermath show are voting for prom royalty in tribute to the classic high school dance at the end of the teen romcoms.” You glanced around the room, catching a glimpse of the two fake plastic crowns Chef was holding. “Two crowns, two winners,” He said, gesturing to the crown you were staring at. “Now, for the pairs. Chef and I decided to have some…..fun with it.” He laughed. “The pairs are going to be with one member from each team, just to keep things fun for me.” 

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance

“Lighten your grip, hulk.” 

“I’m barely touching you!” 

“Tell that to the dent in my shoulder!” 

While obviously handsome and charming in his own way, Justin was the last person who you wanted to partner with in this challenge. Though, one glance at Courtney and Heather’s heated glare between each other, and suddenly you were glad that you were stuck with Justin. Even so, you would have preferred to have been partnered with Lindsay or Beth. 

Or Heather, really. Sure, the bald girl was  can be a major bitch. But she was honest, fun, and loyal. You have watched her threaten everyone and once she warmed up to you, you knew that she would burn and destroy others for you. Not that she’s ever told you that with words, anyway. But you could feel her affection, as prickly as it might be. A rose with many thorns. 

Though, you didn’t mind the thorns. 

“Alright, let’s get the music goin’”, Chris grinned, as Chef turned on the music, causing many of them to wince at the volume. “Now remember, your fellow ex-contestants are voting for the winners. Two more minutes until the winners are announced, so make them count!” 

Ugh. This sucks. 

“Damage my ankles and I swear t-” 

“Oh, oops~” Heather smirked, giving Justin a small smile, as she collided into his side, pulling an annoyed Courtney along with her. “My bad.” 

You laughed as Justin huffed, annoyed. You caught Heather’s eye and grinned, winking at her. 

“Heather, I swear to go-” 

“What?” Heather scoffed, “It was just an accident.” 

“Sure, sure,” Courtney muttered, “An accident to save your little girlfriend.” 

“Shut up.” Heather grumbled, “It’s not like that.” 

But we could be, you think, knowing good and well that Heather would gut you if you even indicated that to Courtney in this moment.  

“But, you want it to be.” Justin chimed in, sharing a knowing look and slimy grin with Courtney. “Y’know, red really is your color.” 

“One more minute!” Chris yelled. 

“Shut it before I fucking claw your eyes out,” You glared, eyes blazing and locking in on Justin, quickly shifting them towards Courtney, “And you, you little bitc-” 

“The results are in!” Chris yelled, catching everyone’s attention. 

“And the winners are…..” Chris snatched the card from Chef, quickly opening it with a flourish. 

Silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me

“I was fucking robbed!” 

“Seems kind of on brand for the ‘teen romcom’ though,” You said, watching Duncan join Beth on stage as the winners of the challenge. “The lovable nerdy girl winning. The popular mean girl losing.” You sighed, “So on and so on and so on…” 

“Whatever,” Heather scoffed, “The endings are the worst part anyway. The underdog winning. The girl gets the guy. The ending kiss. Such bullshit.” 

“I don’t know. It’s cheesy, but cute.” You said, reaching over and grabbing Heather’s hand in your own. “The ending kiss was always my favorite.” You glanced over at Heather, grinning. “And by the looks of it, you do too.” 

“Shut up!” Heather rolled her eyes, trying everything in her power to not look over at you, despite the heat building and building in her face. A dead fucking giveaway. A stupid weakness. 

“Y’know, we never got a chance to dance. Would yo–What?!” You laughed, catching a glimpse of Heather’s still red-faced, knowing expression. “I told you that I like the cheesy endings.” You smiled, placing your hands on Heather’s hips.”

“Uh-huh,” Heather’s arms slipped around your shoulders, “And what was that you liked about endings?” 

Oh. Oh. 

So, it’s happening? 

“You’d be interested in that?” You questioned, keeping your full attention on Heather, as your face grew warm. “I thought that you hated endings, Heather.” 

“I do, but I’d be interested. Very interested.” 

“Alright, then I think that I can arrange something for y-” You smiled. Though Heather cut you off, kissing you, pulling herself and you closer together. Time seemed to slow down. Angels singing. All of the stupid, but true cliches. 

“Impatient,” You breathed out, grinning at Heather once your two pulled apart for air. You leaned your forehead against hers, not daring to look at anything but her. 

“You were taking too long.” She hummed, “And you promised me a movie-ending kiss.” 

“I did, didn’t I?” You smiled, “Well then, I think that we should try it again, if you’re up for it.” 

“Fuck yes,” Heather whispered, “Kiss me.” She demanded. 

You rolled your eyes at her tone, but quickly and excitedly took her invitation, kissing her again. 

“I could get used to this,” You whispered, pulling away to catch some air. 

“So could I,” Heather muttered, “As long as you don’t make me watch any of those god-awful teen romcoms.” 

“Really?! But they’re like us….” You said, “Popular girl. Underdog. Amazing kiss at the end.” 

“Shut up.”

So kiss me

So kiss me

[v-o-i-d-e-d]

I’ll Follow Your Lead - Hot Chocolate and a Cinnamon Bun

~Also posted on my Ao3 and Wattpad~

Part 2

Dorothea Lindsay was a woman of great patience. Her kind smile never wavered as the middle-aged man in front of her studied the café menu as if it were a novel invention. Inwardly, she was screaming for him to pick something so that she could get on with her day, however, she simply switched her weight from her right leg to her left leg.

    “I think I’ll have an Earl Grey tea with lemon. As well as one of the fresh cakes for the day,” The man finally said. He was nice enough – he had a nice smile and spoke softly – but boy he was thorough with his menu options.

    “I’ll have that right out for you, sir!” Dorothea nodded and turned on her heel. She brushed her hair away from her eyes and swiftly made her way to the front counter where she would gather the man’s order.

    Dorothea was a hopeful woman. She had a silly dream to become a musician – a singer. She had the talent and the face to make it big but hadn’t made her break yet. As she slaved away in Café le Plus Sucré, she dreamed of being featured in the spotlight of a grand stage. In the evenings, she did small shows in a local restaurant: Rinaldi’s. It was a small Italian restaurant that hosted all kinds of people from around the city. New York City was supposed to be Dorothea’s chance for greatness; instead, she was closing in on her second year as a waitress. She was a hard-working woman, just barely 16 and already holding down two steady jobs. She did not have anyone else to depend on and had very little money but she scraped by.

    She mindlessly prepared the man’s tea and grabbed one of the freshly baked lemon cakes from the cooling rack before waltzing back to the man. As she placed his order in front of him, he smiled widely at her and rested his callused hand on her soft one.

    “You look tired, miss. It’s a shame that they have such a pretty girl working so hard!”

    Dorothea rolled her eyes but quickly recovered her smile.

    “Oh, it’s not so bad. I get to meet a lot of interesting people here. There’s hardly a dull moment!

      She had lied to that man. The afternoons at the café were always dull and time passed with absentminded cleaning and magazine reading. Dorothea sat on a stool behind the counter. Only one other person was in the building and it was an old woman that frequents the establishment. Dorothea had already set her up with her normal order, at her normal table and left her to watch the people pass outside of the large window. Now she was flipping through this month’s Vogue issue and awaiting the evening rush. She could hear the honking of automobiles and even the clopping of horses' hooves against the cobblestone as she read the articles and studied the pictures. She was envious of these beautifully styled women as she sat in a stained dress and apron with her hair sloppily tied up with a dark red ribbon. Just as she let out a heavy sigh, the front door opened.

    The young man was about Dorothea’s age and was dressed in some old, simple clothes. He held a leather-bound book and a small pencil case in his hand and wore ratty boots on his feet. He looked around the cozy building before his bright blue eyes landed on the woman at the counter. He paused for a brief moment before proceeding toward the counter and taking a seat on one of the stools.

    “What can I get for you, sir?” Her voice was warm and smooth, like a nice hot chocolate. Her eyes were much the same.

    The man cleared his throat.

“Um,” He glanced around the counter looking for a menu and the girl chuckled to herself.

“Forgive me! I didn’t even ask if you wanted a menu,” She turned around and grabbed a sheet of paper, and then presented it to the man. He smiled and his eyes finally left hers. He scanned the options, surprised that such a nice place had such low prices.

“How about a hot chocolate with a cinnamon bun,”

Dorothea could not help but laugh at his choice. The man responded by furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

    “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offend. It’s just that I don’t meet many men with an order such as this! Most men think it too sweet.”

    “I’ve got a taste for sweet things,” his pink lips quirked in a smirk. “What’s your name?”

    “Dorothea.”

    “Jack.”

[jgroffdaily]

Excerpts from an interview with Jonathan, Lindsay and Daniel at Vulture:

Now, the show is back on Broadway for the first time, directed by Maria Friedman, with 42 years of changes and a cast that earned rave reviews for a production Off Broadway last winter. Jonathan Groff, Lindsay Mendez, and Daniel Radcliffe, who play Frank, Mary, and Charley respectively, sustain deep chemistry onstage and off, roasting and complimenting each other often in the same breath — and, together, they’re helping turn the idea of “Merrily We Roll Along on Broadway” from one of the saddest stories in theater to the type of show its explosive Act Two number “It’s a Hit” could be sung about.

Did you have a relationship to Merrily prior to getting involved with the production?

Groff: The documentary was the first time I knew anything about it.

Mendez: Same.

Radcliffe: I saw this production in London in 2013, and that was my only experience of the musical. I had no appreciation of the troubled history of the show until I watched the documentary.

Groff: Frank says in the first scene, “I made only one mistake in my life, but I made it over and over again, and that was saying ‘yes’ when I meant ‘no.’” In the early stages of the friendship, we’re all on the same page. We’re coming up together in New York, and we are inspiring each other with our common goals and shared talents, and, as years go by, people have families and people have writer’s block and shows become successful; there’s wives and children and mistakes, and needs become different. The mistake that we all make to a certain extent is we don’t allow each other to change.

What did you think when you were first cast together?

Mendez: Jonathan’s how I got cast. He was like, “Lindsay should be Mary.” Dan was cast before either of us, but Dan didn’t know either of us really, right?

Radcliffe: No, but obviously both by reputation. As soon as this trio was the idea and it came together, everything just worked. I flash back to what my life could have been like if it hadn’t been with them, and it’s a very different story.

Jonathan, what did you see in Lindsay that made you think she should be Mary?

Groff: I just selfishly was thinking she’d be so great for the part because she’s an animal. An amazing actor and singer. Even before meeting Dan, I had seen him in Equus and knew he was a theater animal. It’s brilliant to cast Dan in the show because we’ve all seen him grow up from being a child to a full grown man. It’s like Wow, we’ve all seen Dan for the last 20 years in front of us.

Dan, as the person who didn’t know these two before, how did you develop chemistry?

Radcliffe: It was a case of being plunged into a world of video messages at first unwillingly. [Groff and Mendez laugh.] Then being like, “Oh, fuck. I guess.”

Groff and Mendez: Dan!

Radcliffe: I was watching them like, “They’ve said so much. I need to write notes to answer all the things that they’ve said.”

Were they about the show?

Radcliffe: Yes and no.

Mendez: It was months and months before. We were trying to get to know each other so that we wouldn’t arrive on the first day like, “Nice to meet you. Let’s be old friends.”

Radcliffe: And now I send videos all the time. Now I’m like, “You can’t stop me.”

Groff: Now you initiate sometimes.

Radcliffe: You get to jobs when you know you are playing people that are intense friends hoping that the other people are coming in with the spirit of, “Let’s get involved and see how much of that we can bring out.” We did it pretty fast at New York Theatre Workshop, but this time around, having had a full year of knowing each other, it feels so different in a lovely way.

I was rewatching Best Worst Thing That Ever Could Have Happened and was struck by how young the original cast was. Given that you all worked professionally at that age, what would it have been like if you were in this show at their age?

Groff: I look back at that time of being 21, and all the dreams and expectations — if Spring Awakening had flopped in the way that their show flopped, it would’ve been a very different life. I was ugly crying through that entire documentary because it was like sliding doors. Knowing how this show brings you together and bonds you — feeling that that wouldn’t be accepted or celebrated would be even more devastating.

Jonathan, you haven’t mentioned Frank’s future past the show yet.

Groff: I think healing begins. The way that we’ve now staged the ending is a bookend, which is a nod to it being hopeful. Maria always says, “You can start over again. It’s never too late in your life to be a good person.” I do think that this show is an offering for the audience. We want them to follow our characters and be invested in us, but at the same time, we want them to think about their own lives. There were people Off Broadway that would say, “I called my dad. I called my friend.”

Radcliffe: Maria has specifically asked us to make eye contact with people in the audience. So if you’re reading this and that makes you very uncomfortable, I’m sorry that it happened to you already. There are some times you would see somebody a minute and a half into the show absolutely sobbing.

How do you start the show at that place without any momentum? How do you start at the end?

Mendez: I’ve gotten really good at snapping into a moment. That’s what this play has done. I leave hysterically sobbing and then have to come in and have it be five years earlier. I do it 20 times in each show.

Groff: The gift of the Off Broadway run was that getting to live it allowed us to layer it, because the more we lived it, the more it became clear how fucking brilliant the writing is.

It’s so nice that, in the experience of performing the show, you get to shed the severity scene by scene. When we would finish the show Off Broadway, I would feel like I was 18. It’s different for the audience because they’re taken on a different experience, but we’ve spent a lot of time rehearsing and in performance and now rehearsing again, reminding ourselves to start again at the beginning of every scene. Start again, start again. It’s a unique acting challenge because usually you can feel the momentum.

Mendez: And you get to take that with you, but instead, with this show, you have to leave it every time. “Leave it, leave it. I don’t know this yet. I don’t know this yet. I don’t know this yet.”

Groff: It’s a life lesson. Sometimes the things we take with us no longer exist. I find myself working this muscle when performing this show — “Now I’m going to show up in this scene releasing everything that has happened and be here right now.” And then I take that work into my life with my old friends.

With the level that you appreciate the show, is there a sense of responsibility toward it? The goal is to redefine Merrily’s place in the canon, right?

Radcliffe: There have been a lot of productions. These include, but are not limited to: a 1985 production at the La Jolla Playhouse, a 1994 Off Broadway revival, a 2000 West End production that won the Olivier Award for Best New Musical, a 2012 Encores! production, a 2012-13 London production, also directed by Friedman, and a 2019 Off Broadway production of Merrily. I definitely don’t feel like the goal is redefining, but I share the sense of responsibility. It’s so fucking good, and I want to do justice to this story every night.

Groff: Seeing the marquee go up, “Merrily We Roll Along on Broadway,” 42 years later, does feel like a big deal. But there’s a difference when we’re sitting and talking about it now. But as an actor, I’m not thinking about anything except the moment to moment of the show. There’s so much to think about when we’re performing the show that it isn’t until moments like this where it’s like, You’re right, it’s a big deal that Merrily is going to be on Broadway.

Mendez: All I hope for is that people understand it and that we break their hearts a bit and they say, “Wow, I saw a Sondheim show that I haven’t seen before and now is in my canon.”

[bulbabutt]

say what you will about bay april (and trust me, megan fox deserves so much better) at least she's proactive about looking into things and does things without the boys-hell she's the reason they're even alive in the first place, she saved splinter and the turts as a kid

doesn't erase vernon and mikey being constantly horny on main for her or that weird technique they force her to do to get info out of stockman in oots's opening segments but still, give her credit, she's strong-willed and has a sense of justice and tries to do what's right

hmmmmmmm ok. theres a lot to say about bayverse april. and i specifically avoided talking about movie aprils cuz it was going to get repetitive and long (like 1990 april is very similar to 87 and 07 april is basically 03 april)

but with bayverse, you're right, she is the central character in that movie who drives the plot. but thats because of the megan fox of it all, being that shes the biggest star there and also because bay had an obsession with her (to her detriment bad vibes all over the fucking place holy shit leave this woman alone) we're still framing aprils ass in the shot, still being creepy about her, despite the fact this movie is trying to be from her perspective (for more info on that aspect i think you just gotta watch lindsay ellis' "the framing of megan fox" video about transformers, because its the same shit here)

and just because its like 87 april (because this movie is pandering to 87 fans) doesnt mean theyre really add anything or even understand the concept of what makes 87 april good in the first place. like i said in my post about 87 april, what makes her great is that the turtles fall into her story, and that we are centred on the news room politics of it all. the human world the turtles interact with is her life.

(this got kinda long so its under a cut)

in this movie, we change the misogynistic boss burne thompson into: whoopi goldburgs burnadette thompson. which. hm, color and gender blind casting for burne thompson is. a way to do it i guess. (i do know whoopi is in this movie because she wanted to be in a turtles movie, no disrespect there) but it removes that core element of reporter april fighting her shitty boss. in this she's now just a regular reporter working at a normal news station, but also we're still giving her the girly aerobics story. so, who's decided that if her boss is a black woman? thats kind of fundamentally changing the implications of why shes stuck doing that job, its no longer because shes the woman reporter, and is now just because thats what shes been assigned. now its not her fighting sexism, its her just not wanting to do her job. a shitty one, but its no longer because of a sexist work place.

and then her story of being a reporter is she gets FIRED for being a BAD reporter, because shes crazily rambling about turtles to her boss with no real sources. which...87 april didnt do that, her point wasnt to find the turtles, it was to use her job to help them. the turtles are the secret, not the story. for a movie that likes pandering to 87 and nothing else, they missed this concept entirely

(side note that isnt important, when shes rambling to the roommate about them.... this movie panders enough to 87, why is the roommate not just named irma. shes only in that scene. seriously, it should have just been irma.)

and then. the vernon fenwick of it all........ why the fuck. did you do this. why make him the only character who believes her? oh sorry, not even believes her, simply THINKS SHES HOT. SO GOES ALONG WITH IT. i know they wanted to put casey jones in this movie, but then went NOOO that would be SILLY if the guy hanging out with her is casey (we want to save him for the seqeul) so lets make it another reporter. uh vernon. hes from the original! and thus we change vernon from being the rival reporter who hates her because shes a woman whos better at his job than him, into just: her creepy co reporter who has a crush on her. and since he's the co star here, she has to not tell him off for his bad behaviour. maybe he'll even get a date out of it!

(again, if she needed a sidekick, irma is right there, you put the other two here, why not irma)

and the choice to make her a part of the turtles origin story is, in my perspective, very much like my issue with 12 april's destined to be part of the story thing. shes part of this story because her dad created the turtles. yes, she saved the turtles and splinter, but its less of her own choice in the matter, its because she was the daughter of the man who made them. its the opposite of what i think makes her a good character in the franchise, someone who is hunting for a story and gets in too deep, and happens to be near enough by the turtles that they get her out.

like lets compare her to the april closest to her, 1990 april. thats an april who gets into the plot via going hunting for a story on her own. there's some kind of gang up to no good and she wants to get to the bottom of it. she does get to the bottom of it all on her own, she learns via interviewing immigrants that the foot is the organization behind it. shes doing something no one wants her to do, shes going against what her boss, and what cops think she should be doing, and the foot literally try to kill her because SHE is hunting for THEM. she ends up in turtle plot because raphael HAPPENS to be around when the foot find her. its HER story. the foot is after HER. the turtles in that movie end up losing splinter and then fighting the foot BECAUSE april was looking for them. THATS what makes her have agency in the story.

i do think a lot of you guys are missing my point here though (no offence!) so let me try to explain it better.

its not just about if we see april be a self sufficient character who's central to the plot, or even what her personality is like, its whether she exists in a real way outside of the men around her. its if her choices are important to the story. she doesnt need to have saved the turtles, know how to fight, kicked the shredder, or have been right about whatever story is going on. the question is: is she in the story because she did something on her own to get to it? is she a character who matters without the men in her life? can she stand on her own? do you care about her life? what are her aspirations, how is she trying to achieve them?

based on all that, i think 2014 april is in fact the weakest april. they're only making her seem like 1987 april because, and i dont know if ive said this anywhere yet, men who watched 87 when they were kids think shes hot. that is the only value a lot of people have placed on her. thats her legacy to a lot of people. its fucked up, and this movie doesnt do anything to dissuade you from thinking that.

sorry to go off on your ask, but bayverse (specifically the first one) really got no aspect of any tmnt thing correct. not april, not shredder, not splinter, not casey, and not the aspect of how these turtles are even ninja (i think everyone involved shouldn't be allowed to make another piece of media for putting that fucking ninjitsu book in the fucking sewer)

[quinnmorgendorffer]

okay but what’s so great about the original season 4 of arrested development is that it had the classic feel of the show with jokes you didn’t get punchlines for or set ups for until after the fact, you don’t understand why people say things until well afterwards, etc.

the greatest example is the “homo much” speech, because it’s clear michael tuned out about half of that speech, and, when you first watch it, you just think gob’s being some asshole calling Michael gay, nbd. then you see the full thing in “a new attitude” and you know exactly why he said it and it’s funny (and tbh a little emotional). you even soon after that have the reveal of why michael was all like “i KNEW IT” and why gob was freaking out so much over who he had slept with.

another one is when lindsay and tobias and maeby are getting a house and you see the realtor have a big reaction to tobias’ license plate, which you don’t see until his first episode. tbh, i think it makes the reveal funnier than showing the plate and then seeing the guy gasp. like, yeah, it’s funny, but it’s funnier when you’re waiting for the actual punchline. 

it’s a lot more fun waiting to see why maeby is being chased by security and running past gob or finding out gob was the one who nearly ran over michael, something you just think is a random thing to show michael isn’t paying attention to things because he’s so over the moon about rebel. it’s funny to find out several episodes later that fakeblock is literally not what you think it is. and just seeing how the family is still all interconnected no matter how much they try to separate is so fucking PERFECT for them.

s4 was written to be out of order for several reasons, mostly from necessity over the actors all having other things they had to do, other commitments made, other jobs, all of that. and so the writers wrote it that way and did it very cleverly and i just think the remix is a travesty for trying to change that - and changing it rather unsuccessfully. 

[dissociativecollective]

Hi there. I also have dissociative identity disorder Its so nice to see another tumblr I can relate to so thankyou

My question is do you have a job? and if so, how do you cope with your alters fronting while youre at work? If not, have you ever been able to hold down a job? Im struggling :) Thankyou! Have a great day Amb xx

Hello!

Nice to meet you, Amb! There aren't many of us with DID, are there?

I used to work for about 8 years in science/biotechnology, and I've had at least 6 different alters fronting while at work. It was difficult at first, but that was before I was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder. I've been in therapy for 6 years to help me communicate with and understand my alters better, so it really helped with my job. I knew which alters liked to do which parts of my job/work, and all of the alters communicated well about it and were less likely to "act out." Each alter has their own strengths/weaknesses, likes/dislikes, knowledge/memories, and skills/aptitudes and therapy helped me learn about them and accept them.

Last year, I was ready to integrate my dissociated alters/parts and decided to leave my job in order to focus on more in-depth therapy to achieve this. I've nearly finished integrating my dissociated memories and my alters are communicating even better now. I do plan to apply for jobs this month and get back to work, now that my therapeutic integration is nearly complete.

I really hope it works out well for you and I'm sorry to hear about your struggles. When I first began working, I struggled with my job, mental health, and consistency, but with DID therapy, it really helped me and my career.

-Lindsay

[moviemunchies]

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a Mission Impossible movie; I’ve watched the first, second, and sixth. The movies come in and out of Netflix and Hulu, so sooner or later I’ll get to them all.

Oh, hey, J.J. Abrams directed this movie!

Our protagonist, Ethan, has a fairly stable life right now, and he’s engaged to a nurse named Julia, and everyone’s happy! Except then Ethan is abruptly pulled into a rescue operation to save his protege at the IMF, Lindsay Farris, who was sent to spy on an international arms deal named Davian. They do get Farris out, but a detonator implanted in her head goes off, killing her and any possible intel. To finish her mission, Ethan and his team capture Davian, discovering that he’s after something called the Rabbit’s Foot, but shortly after learning (from a message left by Farris) that Davian had a mole within the IMF, Davian escapes. He and his henchmen kidnap Julia and force Ethan to steal the Rabbit’s Foot, or else he’ll kill Julia in 48 hours.

I’ve decided that I can’t watch these movies too close to each other. Ethan is always on the run from his superiors, and always being pushed to his limits. I’m sorry, but it can get repetitive if I watched these one after the other. I would only get exhausted. It’s great that these movies are willing to go all-in on the action and the stakes; I just think you’d get numbed to it if you dealt with them in a row in a short period of time.

The biggest problem with this film is that Abrams often doesn’t show us some of the coolest parts of the story. Ethan is given a deadline of forty-eight hours to grab the Rabbit’s Foot, but the movie skips around without telling us how long he’s got left (through dialogue) until it’s only a couple of hours. And then skipping ahead to less than that. And THEN not showing us the actual heist itself. That’s a cop out! I want to know how, in a matter of minutes, Ethan breaks into a heavily-guarded facility to steal the Rabbit’s Foot and only barely escape! Isn’t that the entire point of a Mission Impossible movie?

Also pretty egregious is the final battle–when Ethan and Davian finally duke it out. Spoiler alert, Ethan wins (which you knew because Tom Cruise is in four more Mission Impossible movies after this). The way that he wins, after a brutal battle, is not due to anything he did, but a total coincidence that neither character had much control over, making it seem pretty cheap. There’s also a resolution to a problem that I don't think would have worked–and reminds me that J.J. Abrams often works on a vague understanding of how science works.

Worst, though, is that we don’t have a clue what the Rabbit’s Foot actually is. It’s as generic a McGuffin as they come because of it. One character theorizes what it might be, but no one ever says. And yes, it could be any generic doomsday bioweapon and the Plot wouldn’t change; still, I think it’s likely that, given what I know of J.J. Abrams in 2023, he didn’t want to do the work to have a clue what to do with it. I don’t know, and he never did, either.

Ethan’s team is underdeveloped, though that’s pretty par for the course at this point. I believe that the next movie is when team members other than Luther have personalities developed enough to care about. It’s a little disappointing though because it’s a great cast.

The action that we do see is very good. The fight scenes are all exciting to watch, there’s a great chase scene, and the scene where Ethan rescues Ferris is a pretty awesome showcase as to what type of agents they are and how effective they are in the field. Tom Cruise does really good action scenes, and watching the film you can tell why they keep Ethan around even if they keep disavowing him–he’s really good at his job!

Ethan also isn’t stupid, which is better than a lot of action heroes. When his team points out that they can’t just hand the Rabbit’s Foot to Davian, he explains, rather frustratedly, that he knows that, he’s planning on tagging it with a tracker before they do that so that they have a chance to get it back right after the handoff. I think that there’s a lot of action movie protagonists who would not even consider something like that, being too overwhelmed with emotion to do anything but fulfill the villains’ demands.

Davian’s a fun villain? In an understated way. He’s not the greatest of the great, but he is interesting in that he almost never loses his cool. In these movies, spies are able to buy time and leverage by talking, and Davian always shuts down Ethan by not giving a crap about whatever he’s talking about. I appreciate that. Philip Seymour Hoffman does well in this role.

So this movie’s fine. It’s fun, though there are a few very notable problems in the film’s execution. It’s good, but those problems are holding it back from being an excellent movie. I understand that some of that is perhaps time constraints. Still, I think that you can have fun watching this one if you need a loud, action-packed movie. It’s not a must-see, though, and there are other movies in the series that are more worth your time.

[wonderlandleighleigh]

How does Lenny’s first show go? I have to know! You can’t do this to us! I’m pretty sure there’s a law that forbids it, somewhere.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my first guest tonight is a very talented, very funny lady. You know her from the Gordon Ford show but I know her from the back of a police car, please welcome Midge Maisel!"

The audience is lively, and Lindsay Trent and the Hot Three play her out onto the stage as she waves to the crowd before sharing cheek kisses with Lenny and letting him lead her to her seat.

"Wow, look at all this!" Midge cries, gesturing around, smiling at the audience. "Good turnout for the first show."

"I know, I am a little shocked," Lenny admits.

Midge beams at him and then turns back to the crowd. "Don't listen to him, he doesn't have any idea how to gauge his own popularity. This man thought that two homeless people were going to show up to his Carnegie Hall gig and it was standing room only."

The audience laughs at that and Midge turns back and smiles at Lenny, distracting him enough to reach out and snatch the question cards from his desk.

"Hey!"

"Let's see...how do you like working for Gordon...it's good!" she says as the audience laughs. "It's a great job, and Gordon is a great boss, and the guests are usually pretty game to get goofy."

She flings the card into the air, and Lenny shakes his head, sitting back and watching her. "Why did I invite you on again?"

"Because you like my pretty face," Midge tells him, smirking at him. "And pretty faces getting ratings."

He snaps. "That's it."

"What's next...who are your comedy influences?" Midge reads. "Oh, now, Lenny. That's a little self-serving, don't you think?"

The audience laughs at that, too and Lenny shrugs sheepishly. "I am nothing if not utterly self-involved."

"A complete lie," Midge mutters, throwing that card too. "What's next...? Oh! What's next for your career? Well, Lenny, I'll tell you. I have a tour coming up in the summer. I'll be opening for Tony Bennett for six weeks between July and August, and then I'm back at the Gordon Ford show, and you can catch my act around town as always."

"Good to know," he says, before reaching under the desk and pulling out more cards.

"Hey! No fair!"

"Midge, this is my show."

"I didn't know you had extra cards. How did you know I'd steal the first set?"

"Are you kidding? How long have we known each other?"

"Fair."

The audience is cracking up at this as Lenny reads from the new set of cards.

"I wanted to talk about the kind of...relationship between comedy and motherhood," Lenny says, starting to get earnest about the questions. "Because before you got into all of this in the business they call show, you were a housewife and mother."

Midge nods. "I was. I still am a mother, obviously, I didn't trade in the kids for the clown shoes," she grins as the audience chuckles. "But the truth is that you absolutely have to have a good sense of humor if you're a mother. Yours kids are going to do and say all sorts of insane things, and sometimes there isn't much to do except make light of it, because as much as Dr. Spock would like you to believe otherwise, there isn't a manual for child rearing."

"One of your kids used to stare at you," Lenny recalls.

"Oh, yeah. I would wake up in the morning and there he was. Staring. No words. He didn't need anything. Just." She mimics Ethan's dead stare, and the audience laughs. "About a year later he kept trying to convince me that his sister had run away. Even when she was literally in my arms. 'Esther's gone!' 'Kid she just spit on me, believe me, she's not gone.'"

The audience laughs, and so does Lenny at that.

"And those are the moments - I mean, you're a dad."

"I am," Lenny confirms.

"A lot of people don't know that, but Lenny's a dad," Midge goes on. "There have to be some strange things your daughter has done."

"There was an incident with a crayon and a candle and her grandmother's favorite sweater," Lenny confirms, chuckling. "Clearly that Warhol exhibit I took her to that one time was a bad idea."

Midge laughs, shaking her head. "Parenting is a truly strange adventure, and if you can parent, you can laugh."

"And in your case tell jokes," Lenny adds.

"I do my best."

"Your best is very good," he assures her. "Most women don't like talking about their relationships in public. Sort of a...a lady never tells type of deal."

Midge shrugs. "That rule plays tug of war with my Judaism. Jewish women are, by and large, horrible gossips. So a lady never tells until it's just too juicy not to share."

Lenny lifts an eyebrow at her, without responding, and Midge gives him a wrinkled nose, as the audience laughs at their silent conversation.

"I mean, if you'd like to tell people, we can just tell people," Midge laughs. "I don't know how many people are watching but I'd bet money it's more than those two homeless people you thought were sitting in Carnegie Hall just to get warm."

"Best leave it for another time," Lenny smirks, covering his mouth with a hand. "Midge, thank you for being on my very first show, it's always a delight to see you."

"Thank you for having me, Lenny," she tells him. "You know, I actually brought you something for your first show."

"Don't tell me it's handcuffs," he says automatically.

"It is not," she assures him, before reaching behind her chair and lifting a black umbrella. "This is for you."

He laughs and shakes his head. "Oh, now that's just very sweet. For when the audience starts throwing tomatoes at my head."

"Exactly. And..." she pops it open, revealing, printed in white "LATE NIGHT WITH LENNY BRUCE."

He laughs harder as she hands it to him. He lifts it and looks to the audience. "Excuse us, folk." He shifts the umbrella to block their faces and leans in, kissing Midge softly as the audience laughs and applauds.

He lifts the umbrella again. "We'll be right back after a word from our sponsor! Midge Maisel, everyone!"