#david's acting here always mesmerizes me

[emilylprentiss]

So, Denise, if you don’t mind me asking...what happened to you? No, not at all. I like to talk about it. It’s really very simple. Last year I was working undercover, suburban surveillance. The seller had a few kinks in his rep. It seemed he’d only sell to transvestites. So my partner and I shacked up. I played the part of the buyer.

Twin Peaks | 2.11 | Masked Ball

[railingsofsorrow]

Mess is Mine

[spencer reid × reader]

summary: the team needs to work with someone new when a local case comes up, except that the agent might not be as unknown as they expected her to be. not to the resident genius, at least.

pairing: s.r × cyberintelligenceexpert!fem!reader

word count: 4.1K

warnings/content: mentions of unfaithfulness; usual description of cm cases; cyber intelligence runs the shit show; mentions of pregnancy symptoms (right at the end); minimum bureaucracy talk cause I know nothing of it I just know how to bullshit myself through stuff; penelope is our queen ™; spencer being soft; ok that's enough or I might as well write it all on here???

A/N: another one of my wips from 84 years ago :] I edited this at one a.m today so.......

“This is our deputy director, Y/N Y/L/N.” Emily Prentiss presented the new face the team would be dealing with for a while. “She's a part of the cyber intelligence on the Natural Security Branch of the FBI, and will be helping us on this particular case.” Emily smiled at her friend and fellow colleague, turning to introduce each of the members of her team to Y/N. “Y/N, this is Jennifer Jereau,” The brunette pointed to a beautiful blonde woman that outreached her hand for Y/N to shake with a gentle closed-lipped smile. Next on was a strong dark skinned man, who shook her hand and winked at her. Y/N winked back playfully as they moved to an older man. Who would be crazy to not know the David Rossi? Y/N had read all of his books and find his ideas extremely smart. “... David Rossi,” She suppressed an excited grin, shaking his hand vigorously. Y/N quickly stopped when she realized what she was doing. Spencer snickered and Emily smirked. Rossi stared confused at both of them but they simply ignored it.

➶ ➷

“I'm Penelope Garcia. You can call me Garcia, that's how I go by.” The next woman in like shook her head with an excited glint in her eyes. Before Y/N could reply to her, she carried on. “So, you're from cyberintelligence. We have so much to talk about! First, how do you—” Y/N find extremely cute how Penelope seemed interested. What mesmerized the woman truly was the vibrating pink hair and the two pigtails. Also the bright outfit. It was a very out-of-order look in their line of work. She understood now why Spencer said she would like Garcia first hand.

“Penelope. Breath.” The Unit Chef placed a hand on the technical analyst right shoulder, cutting her off. Penelope pouted, dropping her shoulders. “You'll have a lot of time to discuss this but first: the case.”

Y/N gave Garcia a soft smile, “I'd love to hear all of your questions and ask some myself. I've heard so much about you.”

“Oh?” The pink haired woman exclaimed, staring at Emily in curiosity. They knew they were friends beforehand. “I hope this one told you the good stuff, right?”

Someone cleared their throat, bringing the attention back to focus. Emily widened her eyes, seeing they hadn't stroduced all of them yet.

“And, lastly but not least, Doctor Spencer Reid.” Emily concluded, mentioning for a tall curly haired man standing beside Penelope. He wore a black suit that completely unmatched his dirty converse shoes. But there he was, Spencer Reid, as pretty, handsome and beautiful as always. In all his glory right in front of her. How would she act this out? It would be fun to tease him a bit, since they do know each other previously... No. She would be professional. She had to make a good first impression in all of them, after all. “He doesn't shake hands,” Emily pointed out.

It's actually safer to kiss. His voice advised inside her mind. She nodded at Emily.

“It's nice to meet you,”

“You as well.”

They shared polite accomplice smiles.

“Garcia. You can present the case, please.” Emily requested as everyone sit at the roundtable. Penelope moved to the front of the board with a grimace. Crime scene and victims photos would never stop shaking her to the core.

“Aaliyah Zara disappeared two days ago. She's an only child and has fifteen years old, daughter of Miron and Freya Zara. Both work at the National Security Branch of the FBI.” Penelope switched up the girl's photo to one of her parents and her. All smiling to the camera. “She was last seen on school surroundings with her friends right as classes were over.” A picture of a camera recording appeared on the slide; it was a bit blurred but with the enhancement of the image you could see it some parts more clearly. A long haired girl was crossing the street.

“Couldn't she have ran away?” Derek questioned, analysing the case file. “In here says her parents are divorced and her dad isn't very present in her life,”

“Already gone through that, ” Y/N rested her palms on the table, “Mrs. Zara said she and Aaliyah are very close and that her daughter tells her everything. They keep no secrets between each other, and that day she was supposed to go back home after school because they were meant to visit her grandmother that was sick.” Y/N swiped one of the files on the roundtable for herself, and opened, “Her Aunt that lives close by also claimed that Aaliyah would've never ran away. The girl never gave away signs of recklessness clearly displayed through teenage years. Actually, after her parents split up she agreed quite easily that it was best for them and liked the fact that she could spend time both in her father's house and her mother's during the holidays.”

Derek hummed in thought. Then, a frown etched within his eyebrows. “How does that relate to your department or the BAU? There's no pattern here.” He was analysing the file in his hands and it didn't make sense for a single case to be directed to the BAU.

“That is what I thought, too. Before I found out that data was being stolen from NSB softwares.” Y/N retorted, asking Garcia for the remote so she could show them the proof she gathered. The first image was from a graphic. “This shows the material that has been indirectly moved around or has disappeared throughout three months. Can you see this here?” She points to the red line that goes up in January, March and then in June. “Well, it is not supposed to be that higher than the other months. In one year, according to my experience since I entered the FBI on the cyberintelligence department, it should be even like February and May.”

“How do you know if June will go up?” Rossi inquired, “Don't you have to receive the data based on what you already have?”

Y/N nodded in agreement, “Yes. But, like I said, the numbers had not changed that much until now, so the expected for June is another exorbitant amount to vanish. This is a pattern.”

Derek was still skeptical.

“Still, how does this connects to the abduction?” JJ asked.

“Right.” Y/N seemed to have forgotten to explain that fact. “Uh. The Zara family carries an important role inside the NSB, as you might already know,” They all agree. Miron and Freya coordinate the WMD, which prevents weapons of mass distribution to enter the country in case—”

“Oh, my god. This isn't...” Garcia blurted out, a hand covering her mouth. Before Y/N could finish everybody in the room had tensed. She gulped, feeling a weird feeling in her throat. You started, now you finish. Do your job. Her brain pushed.

“—in case of a national threat happening.” Her eyes switched to each one in the room before they stopped on honey brown ones. She let out a calm breath. “We suspect that there is someone trying to violate the softwares so the vigilance can be compromised.”

“What else do you suspect?” Emily gave her a look. Y/N opened her mouth and closed it shifting on her feet.

Spencer frowned at her behaviour. She was clearly on edge about something.

“It might be too absurd, but.” She pulled her hair behind her ear, diverting her eyes to the screen again. “I think the abduction was a way they used to divert the attention from the data breach.”

“You think they kidnap a girl so the vigilance on softwares was diverted elsewhere?” Derek's tone display the evident disagreement he still had on the situation. JJ gave him an annoyed look.

“Aaliyah is the perfect distraction they need to get into the system.” Y/N said firmly. “Specially since they've noticed they're being watched now.”

Emily raised an eyebrow in surprise, “They know?”

“Of course they do,” Y/N turned to Emily with a crease on her forehead. “This is on the file I left on your table.”

“Well, do they know who is watching them?”

“Are you a target?” Spencer felt himself let out without knowledge.

“Oh! No.” Y/N quickly replied. “I cover my tracks.” A discreet smug smile made its way to ler lips.

Penelope shook her head in disbelief, “You're like my soulmate.”

A blush covered Y/N's cheeks.

Once the meeting ended and they decided the next steps, everybody dispersed around.

“You're sure you're not a target, right?”

Y/N's shoulders tensed with the sudden voice, but she relaxed once she felt the familiar smell of vanila and coffee.

“Yeah.” She kept her eyes on the file, trying not to look at him. “I know how to do my job.” The joke left her lips. Spencer pretend to search for something on the archives drawers she was leaning on.

“Of course you do.” He snickered back lowly. “I told you Garcia would like you.” He switched the subject swiftly. They didn't have much time before someone suspected the hidden smiles and flirty whispers.

A grin grew on her lips, “She's exactly like you mentioned. We'll work well, I believe.” The weird feeling on her throat came back and she quickly droped the off-white file on the desk, hands holding onto the round extremities tightly.

“What it is?” Reid touched her arm, noticing her ragged breath. “Are you okay?”

No.

“Mhm. Just...” Y/N tried to smile but it went out as a grimace. “Little bit dizzy.” Evening out her breath little by little was proving to be a hard task.

“Hey,” Spencer wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her up, she was blinking a lot and this only told him she was severely weak. “Sit.” He only let her go when her butt reached the chair. “What are you feeling?”

Y/N looked around, feeling slightly better as the dizziness dissipated.

“I've been feeling sick since two days ago, don't know why.” Straightening her back when Emily came into view, she stood up, pinching Spencer so he would do the same. “Probably a stomach bug. I'll see you soon.”

He cleaned his throat, giving Emily a tight lipped smile before walking away.

Y/N started to update Emily on new leads as they moved to another room. The investigation had officially begin.

It was about seven p.m when the Unit Chief send everybody home, if they were gonna work this out they had to at least get some rest too.

“And I mean everyone,” Emily Prentiss gave Penelope Garcia a warning glance, knowing she would probably spend the rest of the night on her cave trying to get some more information on the case. “Please, go home. We'll meet tomorrow to carry on.”

Penelope sighed standing up as everyone else did.

“I assume you're an night owl, too?” Y/N said conspicuously, eyes glued to her files as she organized them on her bag. The technical analyst look at her, but then studied around. “I'm talking to you, Penelope.” A smirk lifted the corner of Y/N's lips upon seeing the confusion on the woman's face.

“Oh, oh!” Garcia exclaimed, a hand on her chest. “Of course I am. What do you expect of me?” And just liked that, they had scheduled a call for when each of them arrived home to discuss suspects they had in common, so they could start ruling out.

The incessant vibration in her bag put Y/N out of her stare with someone in the other side of the room, interrupting her plans for the time being.

She didn't check the caller ID before the accept call button had already been pressed.

“Hello?”

“How about dinner tonight? Everything planned out by me and your favourite dish on the best restaurant in town?” The voice of her husband said through the line.

The urge to roll her eyeballs was held.

“I have a case. What about your surgery? Wasn't it going to take the whole night?” She said trying to fake interest in her voice. Truly? She couldn't care less. She was way past that phase.

Five years ago she met a man. Supposedly fell in love. Two years later he proposed and she said yes. Now she was not sure she should've. Was she comfortable? Yes. Was she happy? Very far from that. Her marriage was a facade that had lasted three years and would probably last more because they had no intention on asking for divorce.

Even if both had extramarital affairs.

Even if both knew about it.

Comfort and routine is a hard thing to get out of. Her mother's words echoed in her mind as she pulled the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

“I finished it earlier than expected. There were no complications so that helped,” There was an idle chater on the background of his voice causing Y/N to mentally groan. This was probably another dinner within friends that she could not begin to even think about going. “It's past seven. Shouldn't you be off?”

“I have a case, Jack. It's going to take the whole night, probably. I don't think I'll be able to make it.”

“Not even if I picked you up?” The edge of hope in his voice told her that he had made reservations just before calling her. Which led to something else: he would sleep at home and he wanted her there.

She didn't want to be home. And she wouldn't.

“Sorry.” that the other woman isn't available for you, asshole. “Can't tonight.” She hung up, not waiting for a reply.

Maybe if she hurried fast enough...

“Looking for something?”

A wide grin spread her mouth apart as she turned around, meeting his eyes. Her comfort eyes.

Spencer carried a careless smile as he walked away from the Bureau's glass doors; light brown satchel attached to his shoulder and curls getting in the way of his sight. He had to keep pushing the strands behind his ear all time.

His hair had gotten relativity longer since six months ago, when they had met. Y/N liked it like this. It suited his frame. And he seemed to like it too, since he hadn't as much touched a scissor nowadays.

“Yes,” Y/N said, head tilting as she gave him a once over. Spencer gulped. “In fact, I think I might have found it.”

“You sure?” Reid croaked out, stepping closer to her warmth. Her fingers found the familiar place of his tie. She loved to play with it, he knew it.

“Prehaps.” She shrugged, eyes switching between his lips and his eyes, asking for permission. The parking lot was still a dangerous area for them to be touchy like this. But she couldn't help it. Not tonight, at least. What was making her so bold? The fact that her husband was screwing someone else and still insisted on making stupid dinner reservations for her to keep pretending for the sake of society?

Not tonight.

Spencer's sheets were always more comfortable than her own. She thought that maybe this was because she felt cold even with three blankets over her at her house, but felt warm with nothing but his arms covering her.

“What are you looking at?” Y/N raised her eyebrows, touching his cheek softly. “What's that look for?”

“You're just... so beautiful.” I wish you were mine. He wanted to say, but didn't. He never did.

A strand of her hair fell in on her eyes and she let it cover her sight for a second, so he couldn't see how embarrassed she was whenever he made her compliments like that. She'd never get used to it.

Their soft chatter was interrupted by a vibration in the bedside table. Y/N buried her face in his neck, groaning against his skin. Spencer chuckled, shivering slightly. Her body is always too cold. He thought.

“You want to get that?” Say no.

“No.” Y/N grinned wickedly at him. Spencer smiled and closed the gap between their lips. She hummed in contentment, rolling over so she was the one on top now. His hands working their way to her hips.

But, the phone didn't stop ringing.

He sighed against her addictive lips, “You should get that,” He whispered with eyes still closed in a daze. Y/N finally split apart from him, not bothering to cover her naked chest. There was nothing he hadn't seen and she was pissed at whoever was calling—

A low fuck exited her mouth as she eyed the name Penny with lots of hearts beside it. Garcia had added the number herself, obviously.

“Fuck!”

“What's wrong?” Spencer touched her arm, trying not to see what was aggravating her mood on the screen.

“I was supposed to discuss case stuff with Penelope tonight. This is what's up, Spencer!” He mumbled an oh, retracting his hand and leaning back on the bed. Y/N, after fully clothed —although very messily—gave him an apologetic look. “I'm sorry for the way I spoke.”

He waved her off, pecking her cheek and leaving the covers to walk to the bathroom. “It's alright. Go leave Garcia speechless and tell me about it later.”

She smiled, listening to his muffled voice by the bathroom door being closed.

“Raymond is definitely our number one suspect, but we can't rule out the rest yet. They also have important connections.” Penelope winked at Y/N, who smiled in response. They had become slightly closer through the night while unsealing more details and discovering what they had in common: both masterminds in cyberspace. “And this is why, I, in all my shiny glory, with the help of the almighty Y/N Y/L/N, prepared this document so you can view this and see the level of these suspects.”

JJ smiled as her eyes skimmed through the tablet. Smile dying down as she realized what her colleagues were onto. “This has happened before.”

“Same scale, same softwares. Just not the same kid.” Y/N concluded her line of thought, clenching her jaw as another yawn tried to pass through. She hadn't sleept at all last night. Until ten p.m, she and Garcia kept discussing the case over facetime. When she finally joined Spencer on the bed, all the food she had kept down on the day had chose to come back to life. She was sure she stayed more in the bathroom with her head in the toilet than by his side on the bed last night.

“So, you're telling me there was another case like this that we had no record of?” Derek's eyebrows had a deep crease between them. “How come? Did they managed to wipe out the data?”

“No. Not the kidnappers.” Y/N said. “Someone inside the department that had access to these files would have to do that.”

Rossi rested against the chair. “You mean...”

“Someone corrupted.” Y/N crossed her arms, blinking hard. The light was bothering her so much and her head was about to explode. She hadn't said half of the things she planned to.

Spencer shifted on his seat, trying to pretend he wasn't focusing on her all the time. It wasn't easy given he was concerned. She had spend the night throwing up and and with severe nausea, he didn't know how she was even standing.

“This is a difficult accusation,” Emily prompted, intertwined her hands on the table. “Are you sure of it?”

Penelope decided to take the lead in the question, and this was the cue for Y/N to excuse herself out of the room quietly. Spencer followed her shadow with his eyes until she disappeared.

“Is she okay?” JJ frowned. She had noticed Y/N's antsy behaviour as soon as they'd met in the round table today, and she was slightly pale.

“Her allergy attacked today. Poor thing,” The pink haired woman replied to JJ after they were done with the meeting.

“I'll sent her home.” Emily grabbed the archives, her mind heavy with thought. “It's time we give a little visit to the NSB.” Before she walked out of the room, she coordinated each one of her team members to what they were supposed to do and how they were supposed to talk. It wouldn't be easy to start an official investigation against people inside the FBI; they'd have to be smarter.

“Have you taken an antihistamine yet?” Emily asked, closing the bathroom door softly. Y/N looked up through her eyelashes as she washed her face.

“Yeah.”

Emily hummed, studying Y/N drying her face slowly.

“You don't have allergies, Y/N.”

For a moment, a split of second, the director hesitated, but she just threw the paper ball she used on the trash can and tried to move past Emily. Which didn't work.

“You've been having nausea and dizziness for the past week. Not to mention your suddenly extremely sweet tooth out of nowhere —”

Y/N moved her hand away from the doorknob, turning towards Emily. “Well? Are you gonna carry on and say that I'm being terrible at doing my job or do I have to keep waiting?”

Emily's demeanor dropped instantly. Is that what she thought this was?

“We should have found the girl by now. I know.” Y/N snapped, crossing her arms; jaw clenching in frustration. “I was the one that made you take on this case. Especially because I knew you guys are the best at solving related situations. I know that I'm lacking, okay? You don't need to come here and point it out to me. If I had figured out the corrupted cockroach on my department previously this wouldn't even be hap—”

“Y/N, stop.” Emily stepped closer, lifting her hands to touch the woman's tense shoulder. She was about to burst in tears and she didn't even know why. Do your fucking job and stop crying, you idiot! Y/N's subconscious sent a pang through her head. “You think I came here to reprehend you?”

Y/N gulped, studying her best friend's eyes slightly confused.

“You didn't?” Emily's eyes softened and she shook her head. Y/N immediately started to cry, causing Emily to widen her eyes in astonishment. “Well, then now you certainly should! What the hell is my problem on speaking to you, the BAU unit chief, like that?”

“Oh, my god.” Exclaimed Emily, bringing the woman to her arms in an attempt of comfort. “It's okay, Y/N. Shh, don't cry.”

“This is so unprofessional, Emily. I'm supposed to be doing a good job like I have always—”

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” The unit chief asked. Y/N did as told, teardrops making its way down her cheeks. “You are doing an excellent job in the investigation. And I'm not saying that because you're my friend. My team sees it.” Y/N widened her eyes. “You're a great director so stop doubting yourself. I don't like it. Step up, you hear me? You're amazing at what you do and we would be nowhere in this case without you.”

Emily moved away to grab a paper towel to offer her. Y/N accepted it quickly, trying to clean up her face after the mess that just happened. She was embarrassed.

“I'm sorry.” Y/N said, pressing a finger to the tip of her nose so the will to sneeze after crying would stop. “I- I don't know what came over me. This is embarrassing and it definitely won't happen again.”

Emily leaned against the sink, biting her inner cheek in thought. Should she mention it?

“What it is then?”

Her eyes snapped to her friend's.

“You said you came to talk about something.” Y/N tilted her head. “What it is?”

Emily crossed her arms, “You know I don't beat around in the bush, right?” Y/N gave her a confused frown and that was enough for her to blurt it out “Are you pregnant?”

Y/N laughed loudly, covering her mouth afterwards. Not because her nausea was coming back but because this was just insane.

“Are you high?” Y/N counter-attacked.

Emily narrowed her down, “Mood swings, nausea, dizziness, cravings... JJ had all of these symptoms before.”

Something in Y/N's brain snapped. It was as if the ability of recalling memories had just turned on inside her mind and everything froze. When was the last time she had her period?

Fuck.

“Y/N?” Maybe Emily should have mentioned it elsewhere and literally at any other time for Y/N seemed to pale up more each second. “Y/N, are you okay—”

Fortunately, Y/N was right by the sink because everything else—that she did not have—in her stomach came right out. Again.

[thesorcerersapprentice]

Ooops realized I should have sent that ask to your writeblr so here it is again. Please tell me as much or as little as you'd like about your OCs' clothes. What does a typical outfit look like? Who is fashion conscious and who dresses out of necessity? Pictures welcome :)

Haha, hi @avrablake! Thanks so much for this ask. If you haven't met Avra before, they're writing a gripping speculative fiction novel entitled Beyond The Darkness, a prequel to Beyond The Darkness entitled Nightshade, and more! Go check out their Writeblr Intro!

As usual, I'm going to be answering for the two main characters of my work-in-progress, The Sorcerer's Apprentice: Valeriano (the mysterious, ageing sorcerer) and Altaluna (his unworldly apprentice). I've gone back and forth on the entire aesthetics of the project several times, but I think I've got it down now, so here goes!

✦ VALERIANO: A boho maximalist to the core, 90-year-old Valeriano dresses to impress, confound and mesmerize. That means multiple rock-star-style rings on each hand; multiple tattoos, including a tarantula tattoo either on his forearm or hand (I haven't fully decided yet); scarlet, velvet dressing gowns in the morning; an assortment of carved and engraved walking sticks for every purpose (including some NSFW walking sticks which I will not discuss here for reasons lol); oversized, black fur evening coats; an infinitude of embroidered robes of various deep colours (also used as evening coats); designer sunglasses; handmade shoes (particularly, suede & velvet imperial loafers. His favourite pair are red, and almost all of them have red lacquered soles); an assortment of tailored suits (corduroy, velvet, wool); silk and wool scarfs; silk handkerchiefs (which he tucks into his front blazer pocket for added style); multiple shawls, including woollen ruanas; and, white t-shirts for when he's staying home or feeling casual. Basically, cross The Last Lovers Left Alive, Crowley from Good Omens, and Steve Tyler from Aerosmith with David Attenborough, and you're starting to get the vibe. Valeriano is always the best-dressed man in the room, and his signature opulent style serves to reinforce his social status. #He's your cool granddad from hell #the devil really does wear Prada #HauteFae

✦ ALTALUNA: In ACT ONE of The Sorcerer's Apprentice, 26-year-old Altaluna is struggling, so what she wears on a day-to-day basis isn't really her primary concern. Her clothes at this point in the novel are practical: old jeans, plain shirts, t-shirts, etc. She's dressing principally to get by and not draw any attention to herself, as this usually means trouble. In ACT TWO this all changes when Altaluna goes to live with Valeriano. Before she leaves, she spends the last of her savings on clothes that will armour her against expectations that she is some uneducated, back-water peasant with no taste. And they do the trick. Valeriano and his entourage are taken aback when she doesn't turn up in muddy overalls. Over the course of this second act, Altaluna will strike a delicate balance between dressing to impress and dressing to not overshadow Valeriano (a deadly infraction). Her usual attire will be a mixture of sixties-inspired mini-dresses, fashionable peasant shirts, velvet suits, boots, heels, embroidered leather jackets (a safe choice because Valeriano values rebellion) and the occasional robe. However, she will steer clear from anything that signals she is a woman in her own right; nothing that highlights her sexuality or adultness. The more impressionable and naive she looks, the less likely she is to threaten Valeriano and incur his wrath. Finally, ACT THREE will signal a break from this measured calculation with bold, sexually forward looks (off-shoulder dresses, more plunge lines, etc.) that mark her emancipation. You can check out her mood board here.

[leaahhh]

here are some of the songs that soundtracked my summer

maps by the yeah yeah yeahs because i have a secret theory that you must pay attention to the songs that play in the background of a first date because they might be premonitions. it was one of the first that came on the day we met. you were quieter then and everyone knew your name. i overslept far past my welcome that first night and maybe that should have been more telling than the song. maybe i shouldn’t have given myself over so quickly. maybe i should’ve listened to tyler. maybe maybe maybe a lot of things. still, i laughed the whole way home. my kind's your kind, i'll stay the same.

acolyte by slaughter beach, dog because it is one of the only unabashed love songs i can listen to several times in a row without recoiling. it is the best song to wash the dishes to, to walk into the sunset with, to believe in kinder things because of. 

group four by massive attack because the man i was seeing at the time played it once at the bar he worked at. i visited several nights a week, it became part of my routine: something to rush around for, a soft place to land. i was mesmerized from the jump, it was all i could fixate on for its full eight minute runtime — the song and also him, flitting back and forth in the dim red light. (i played it for S a few days later, saying it was the best thing i’d ever heard — he didn’t like it, said it was scary.) i remember going into the bathroom and stabilizing myself in the mirror prematurely thinking that i’d miss coming here when it all ended. each time i was met with eyes a little more vacant. a self-fulfilling prophecy. (i’m at a different bar alone now writing this. your coworker spotted me, came over, and reminded me that you’re working there tonight. i shook my head and he said “oops” three times.)

lost angel nights by james blake and alphabet city by the national because they say the quiet part loud. they made me feel justified in my self-abandonment and my masterful act of pretending to be okay with distance and mistreatment. “away from me is just fine.” “if anybody asks, i’ll say you’re coming back.” “i’ll still be here when you come back from space.” it’s not true. it shouldn’t be. but love is this way sometimes. 

montana by youth lagoon because J brought it up around 3am at a bar in bushwick and before then i hadn’t thought of it in many, many years. she joked that i should play it next to your ear while you were asleep that night because it might rewire your brain. i laughed hard then but later it made me want to cry. a couple months after, her and i sat on a couch backstage with T before he played a sold out show in brooklyn. i told him i think i might’ve met you just so i could meet her. i do believe it. 

this house by japanese breakfast because a friend posted it on her instagram story right after going through a bad breakup and i listened to it eating dinner alone at the neighborhood fast casual korean restaurant staring out the open front door while hot air hit my face and it felt like i was hearing music for the first time. what if one day i don’t know you? what if one day you leave? i could sense it was coming but i came over for a kiss despite it all. i really learned about liquid courage with you and i probably never needed to befriend it so closely. when we were together, my head was always spinning; my nose always stung. 

very overdue goodbye by runo plum because my friends all know i prefer dragged out, tortuous storylines over clean-cut endings and rightfully shake their heads. i’ve never gotten over a thing in my life, i tell david in a frankly unhinged voice message that closes with me laughing pathetically, squeezing in at the end that i hope the baby is healthy. it is the last friday night of summer. he says that 26 is the new 18, that i am the one making bad decisions, *i* am not the bad decision. he tells me to stand up for myself. it takes me several weeks but i listen. you made being alone feel so clean. i see you more as a pile-up of my own grief. 

to me it was by samia because the guitar gives me goosebumps all over. eliza and i have used the format “everything with ____ is totally fine/don’t freak out, it’s gonna be alright” back and forth all month to punctuate every nervous interaction. we ended up being wrong a lot of the time, there was absolutely reason to freak out. samia was right though; maybe i didn’t need tequila for that. someday i think i’ll look back and remember this as a good time. right now it just hurts. 

blue flower by mazzy star because it reminds me of my favorite line in that other song that makes me think about that other guy: i had a fever when i met you; now you make me cool. you were a superstar in your own private movie and i wanted just a minor part. ang is the first person to call it by its name: cruelty. i sweltered and seethed while you slipped away. 

street rat by blondshell because i fell back into my old habits as quickly as i’d tried to kick them as soon as you entered the scene. if a doctor put her hands over my liver she would tell me my resentment’s getting…bigger. i felt a lump, hard and unforgiving, growing there. my back tooth turned brown and started rotting the day you disappeared. Z yelped at me from across the street when he saw me and said i’m withering in front of his eyes. it’s a race to see who dies first and you’ve got five years on me. (as i’m typing this, the bar has begun playing sepsis by blondshell. it feels almost evil. it really should’ve taken a whole lot less to turn me off.) 

split up by boyish because i could have said all of this word-for-word in that text message. i kept it short for both of our dignities. 

aspirin - slight return by tropical fuck storm because christian responded with just the link to that after i ranted for 5 minutes straight about my rapid descent into madness. it was a perfect response. i’m a harrowing rest stop for the men i date. disarming enough to trip them up. not enough to make them stay. 

moon song by phoebe bridgers because after three years of knowing it so well, i heard it entirely differently one night and it nearly rendered me immobile. you asked to walk me home but i had to carry you. you pushed me in and now my feet can’t touch the bottom of you. i would have stuck around, by the way. like a dog with a bird at your door.

[cianishere]

why richard robbins is a king among men, or an analysis of the maurice (1987) soundtrack

hello, i am gay, a former band kid, and a slut for classical music analysis…… so i’ve been wanting to do an in-depth analysis of Richard Robbins’ absolutely breathtaking soundtrack for Maurice (1987) for some time. it’s an incredibly emotionally moving work of art, but i also feel like there’s so much care and thought and soul put into the pieces of the soundtrack, and Robbins absolutely deserves all the credit in the world for writing the perfect accompaniment to the film. the songs have lives of their own, outside of the film, but they also breathe a certain life into the scenes when paired with the performances of the actors and the cinematography and camera work. the soundtrack means so much to me, so i wanted to take a moment (or a few thousand words or so) to expand on all of its intricacies. i’m not a professional musician or a music student, i’ve j been playing woodwinds for over a decade and can find my way around a guitar and piano, so these are my thoughts and interpretations as a musician. feel free to share yours! this was a bit of an undertaking, so i recommend reading while listening, and i hope u enjoy!

(the pieces are listed in order of their appearance in the film, not the album)

PROLOGUE - THE LESSON

The opening piece is a very traditional overture, setting the mood for the film and foreshadowing the (musical) events to come. It begins with a mysterious, almost eerie sound with pizzicato in the low strings and high woodwind and harp lines before opening into the dominating melody in the high strings. Though the melody is grand and moving, it also has an air of hesitancy, almost melancholy, and in this moment, we’re introduced to Maurice’s musical signature, the clarinet (specifically, the low clarinet line). The low clarinet triplets and the sets of five recurring notes in the low flute and violin create a sense of impatience and forward motion, as we can sense young Maurice’s uncertainty in his conversation with his headmaster. This section transitions into a solo in the English horn, which Robbins uses to represent the idyllic, pastoral English countryside. Here, it seems to signal both the natural surroundings that the scene takes place in, as well as the pastoral beauty of childlike innocence. This solo honestly gets me EVERY TIME, it’s so gorgeous and the gradual layering of other instruments underneath is mesmerizing. The piece ends with shrieking upward woodwind scales, capturing the sense of impending fear that we can sense in young Maurice.

AT THE PIANOLA

This piece is a bit strange to listen to outside of the film, as it plays in the scene as Clive and Maurice play Featherstonehaugh’s pianola in his Cambridge dorm room. The piece captures Clive and Maurice’s pianola playing, which echoes the thematic melody introduced in the opening composition, but the single piano line is quickly swept away by a traditional string orchestra before moving into a call-and-response between the high strings and high woodwinds. I always thought this piece was so beautiful in its development, growing from a simple piano melody into a fully orchestrated concerto. The melody, particularly in its piano form, always struck me as very French, reminiscent of the French Romantic pianists with some impressionist elements as well. The transition from piano melody into the full orchestra is welcome, but overwhelming—it evokes the excitement and intensity of falling in love, as the film reaches the precipice of Clive’s confession. The instrumentation is also fascinating here: as I mentioned previously, Maurice is musically represented by the clarinet and/or woodwind melodies, but Clive usually comes through as high strings. This piece is pushed forward by the strings, as the violin and viola take on the melody under the piano and are followed by the woodwinds. The woodwinds follow the strings in a call-and-response pattern, musically establishing Clive’s lead in their romance, with Maurice following along with his advances, especially at first.

MISERERE (GREGORIO ALLEGRI)

UGH I have so much to say about this piece. I want to start with its origins, which is a setting of Psalm 51 to music, at first for the exclusive use in the Sistine Chapel during Holy Week (a nod to this scene taking place in the spring, around Easter). We all know this piece and the scene it accompanies, as those shots of Cambridge (and that wicker chair) are forever immortalized in my heart (<333) The lyrics are incredibly significant, as Psalm 51 is a confession of sin by David—specifically, of his feelings of lust for Bathsheba.

Have mercy upon me, O God: after Thy great goodness. According to the multitude of Thy mercies, do away mine offences. Wash me thoroughly from my wickedness: and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my faults: and my sin is ever before me. Against Thee only have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight: that Thou mightest be justified in Thy saying, and clear when Thou art judged.

David is asking for mercy for his act of sin, and to be “cleansed” from his lustful act by God.

Make me a clean heart, O God: and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from Thy presence: and take not Thy Holy Spirit from me. O give me the comfort of Thy help again: and stablish me with Thy free Spirit.

He prays for God to return to his life, and to give him salvation again.

I think this choice of psalm is SO fascinating, as it can take on two meanings. On one hand, it represents the feelings of guilt that both Maurice and Clive feel for their attraction to each other, knowing that their feelings are considered to be sinful in their (and the societal) understanding of Christianity. In a way, this piece can signify both Clive and Maurice asking for that salvation and asking to be saved from their desire. On the other hand, however, I think the choice to overlay this particular piece with Maurice and Clive’s first moment of physical intimacy is critical in interpreting its meaning. Rather than asking for salvation from God, the psalm’s lyrics could also represent Maurice and Clive asking for salvation from each other through their desire. There are a few points in the psalm that could be read in a rather different light in this context, particularly “Thou shalt open my lips, O Lord: and my mouth shall shew [show] Thy praise.” The “high spirit” that they are searching for, in this case, is not the forgiveness of sin by God, but rather the intimacy and physical affection of a lover. (As Forster points out in a later section of the book, one’s God and one’s lover can be equal “incentives to virtue.”) I feel like this psalm is being used in both ways: as a reminder of the internal and external pressure that Maurice and Clive face, but also to musically express the reciprocal desire they are seeking from each other as they begin to explore the physical side of their relationship. This piece is also just so damn beautiful, the high C just gets me every fucking time. The specific vocal arrangement—and the excerpt of that arrangement—that Robbins decided to use highlights a solo female soprano, sounding almost like a Greek siren. As her voice emerges from the varying vocal textures, there is a sense of seductiveness, but there is also a loneliness there, as she stands alone among the choir. The choice to center the soloist was a beautiful way to show the loneliness that Maurice and Clive feel as they both continue to hold that fear and hesitancy about their feelings and desire.

THE CAFE ROYAL

This piece plays during the infamous “to the ladies!” scene, during which the Halls and the Durhams are dining together, and Clive announces his decision to become a barrister and enter politics. This piece begins as a classic, grandiose waltz, representing the glamor and high society lifestyle that the two wealthy families live within. At the beginning especially, it seems almost overstated, hinting at the façade of British upper-class life that Maurice desperately despises. As the piece continues, a duet of low clarinet and oboe emerge with a woeful melody that is built upon on its repetition by a dark solo cello line. (I don’t play double reeds or cello but they’re two of my favorites, and all I can say is that Richard Robbins knew how to pick instruments that fuck, plain and simple.) The contrast in mood created between this grand waltz sound and the individual instruments emphasizes the trapped, isolated feeling that both Maurice and Clive feel as upper-class British men, expected to have careers, marry, and build families. Stuck in the middle of their constructed lives, Maurice and Clive are represented by the duet and solo lines, standing out among society and desperate for an escape.

IN GREECE / THE WEDDING

This piece opens with a haunting melody that sounds almost like a chorus—I’m still not entirely sure what the instrumentation of this section is, but it sounds like high woodwinds and strings layered together and/or an echoey, chime-like percussion instrument. The lone melodic line overlaid with harp runs (again, Robbins said I will exclusively highlight instruments that fuck hard, and ignore everything else) in the beginning brings the same sort of haunting loneliness as in “Miserere,” evoking the duality of the Greek siren as well as the hymnal church choir. Gradually, the piece builds into a waltz through the development of a pizzicato bass line as well as running woodwind and string harmonic lines. I think the use of a waltz in this section of the piece is a symbol of the bitter end of Maurice and Clive’s relationship, as the minor key and legato melody in the high woodwinds gives the waltz a mournful quality.

The opening section of the piece is quickly interrupted by the abrupt and angry sound of an organ. Rather than romantic, this interlude is loud and overwhelming, representing Clive’s overzealous transition into heterosexual marriage and family life. The interlude then transitions into a beautiful but incredibly sad melody, reminiscent of the music that might accompany a funeral service. This short but emotive section is probably one of my favorites in the entire soundtrack—as it plays, we can see Maurice exiting the wedding chapel after Clive and Anne, and that hidden pain and fear and loneliness is brought to life by this melody.

PENDERSLEIGH IN GLOOM

Simultaneously romantic and melancholy, this short piano interlude demonstrates the inspiration that Robbins took from classical French pianists. This composition reminds me of a transition section within a Debussy piece as the uneven tempo and dynamics exude emotion, conflict, and hesitation. In this moment in the narrative, between Clive’s marriage and Maurice’s meeting of Alec, Maurice is in a state of contemplation and uncertainty, and Robbins has reflected that perfectly.

MISS EDNA MAY’S SURPRISE / THE TRAIN

Though this piece is definitely not the most sonically appealing, I think it is the most texturally interesting on the soundtrack. The piano melody in “Miss Edna Mae’s Surprise” begins as a playful, jaunty, idyllic piece, but quickly builds drama and transitions into the surreal and eerie. The melody wavers between fun and nightmarish, never fully settling into one, but establishing tension through the contrast between the two. As the piece builds layers of woodwinds and strings, it continues this contrast between the expected, playful melody and something more sinister before suddenly merging into a screeching, forceful ending with high woodwinds and piano. Similar to “The Café Royal,” this piece represents the internal conflict that Maurice faces and his fear of settling down into the heterosexual family structure. While there is a sense of joy and happiness on the surface level, as Maurice acts the part to uphold societal norms, internally he is incredibly afraid of being trapped in a cycle of marriage and family that would be unfulfilling and dishonest to his selfhood.

The next section of this piece, “The Train,” is one of the most creative compositions I’ve heard in a long time, and I was honestly blown away when I listened to it closely (and LOUDLY). Rather than using train sound effects, Robbins uses the sounds of the orchestra to emulate the different sounds one might hear on a steam engine train. The rhythmic beat of the railway tracks underneath the train car are created by repetitive staccato notes in the strings and percussion. The airy, legato sound of the steam engine is actually created by single reed woodwind instruments played in a particular way. The woodwind players are blowing air into their instruments with a very loose embouchure, which is the muscle tension created by the lips around the mouthpiece that forces the wooden reed to vibrate and create sound. By loosening their embouchure, the players are blowing air into their instruments without the reed vibrating, resulting in a sound resembling air or stream escaping from engine pipes (can u tell im a clarinet player :-)). The melody of this piece emerges in the high woodwinds, including upper clarinets, flutes, and oboe. The melody line is eerie and tense, much like the mood of the train scene in the film, and the blended lines are erratic and dissonant. They seem to echo and fade in strange ways, mimicking the sound of an approaching or departing train whistle. Robbins is able to capture the sounds of a steam engine locomotive while also establishing the tension and conflict in Maurice’s character in this scene. As a woodwind player, I am in complete awe at Robbins’ creativity in building this composition, and I honestly think his ability to layer these sounds to create such a complex, textured sonic landscape is nothing short of genius.

THE MOONLIT NIGHT (a tiny bit nsfw, feel free to skip!)

Maurice’s nightmare of the “sinking ship” of heterosexuality is brought to life through an eerie, isolated English horn solo over tense string chords, eventually transitioning into a low clarinet melody, Maurice’s musical signature. Slowly, as Maurice’s nightmare fades away and he wakes up from his sleep, the low clarinet melody diminishes and is overtaken by low, warm chords in the lower woodwinds (bass clarinet, my beloved <3). These low sounds are interrupted by hesitant but curious flute runs, through which Robbins introduces Alec’s musical manifestation. The flute sounds grow faster in tempo and more intense in sound as Alec watches Maurice from outside his room but reduce to a single line of low strings, woodwinds, and percussion as he climbs through Maurice’s window. This ominous and minimal sound is gradually layered with sudden high strings, led by Maurice’s low clarinet, before fading away into near silence until the first touch suddenly takes the piece into swift motion. It develops into a beautiful and intricate waltz as Maurice and Alec embrace, representing their intimacy through the style of a partnered ballroom dance. The melody of the waltz, layered over staccato strings, is an ascending, fluttering scale that begins in the clarinet before finishing in the flute. Robbins’ choice to compose the melody as a shared scale between Maurice and Alec’s respective instrumental representation is a perfect way to express their first night together, and the airy, light, understated flute is a brilliant way to embody the spirit of Alec’s character. In the final section of the piece, as the melody grows irregular and begins to fade away, the ascending lines and rhythmic pizzicato strings begin to mirror the gasping breaths and soft moans of intimacy, constructing a gorgeously imaginative musical landscape for this critical scene.

ALEC’S FAREWELL

This short but expressive piece captures Maurice’s transition from dejected acceptance of Alec’s departure to a tentative hope as he realizes that Alec has missed his boat to Buenos Aires. Plucked bass and a fragmentary string melody overlay a tense, oscillating clarinet line, representing Maurice’s internal anticipation as he anxiously fidgets in the taxi ride back to Pendersleigh. At this point, Maurice does not have confirmation that Alec has purposefully missed his boat to reunite with him, but the suspense created by Robbins’ minimalistic composition leaves room for such a possibility, without completely revealing its certainty.

THE BOATHOUSE

This piece begins as Maurice makes his way towards the boathouse on the evening of Alec’s expected departure. He has just spoken to Clive, confessing his love for Alec, and now hopes to be reunited with his lover in the boathouse, the safe haven that Alec had promised Maurice after their first night together. Continuing where “Alec’s Farewell” left off with an oscillating clarinet line and minimal strings, the piece quickly erupts into motion as a solo clarinet begins a low triplet melody, accompanied by strings and a solo oboe harmony (the clarinet line is fucking FIRE and I would pay so much goddamn money for the sheet music). The clarinet solo moves swiftly, desperately, shifting between major and minor keys to represent Maurice’s restless search for Alec. As he enters the boathouse, the clarinet ascends a scale before lingering on a high A, as if he is calling for Alec. When the call is not answered, the clarinet line repeats, bringing Maurice’s anticipation to its height until he opens a second door and finds Alec resting within the room behind it. As the two meet and share a moment of reconciliation (“So, you got the wire, then?”), a lingering bass note (another one of Alec’s musical representations) swells into serene, legato woodwind chords that echo until their final kiss, and Alec’s “Now we shan’t ever be parted, and that’s finished.”

While listening to this song more closely, I was completely struck by its similarities to Leonard Bernstein’s “Somewhere” from the 1957 musical West Side Story. The final chords in “The Boathouse” are strikingly similar to the final high woodwind chords echoed by a low bass line in “Somewhere.” Bernstein also highlights clarinets throughout the musical, particularly to emphasize the vocals of the protagonist, Tony, while using flutes to underscore the voice of María, Tony’s love interest. Aside from the musical similarities, I think the thematic parallels between the story of Tony and María are worth mentioning as a source of musical inspiration for Robbins. A retelling of Romeo and Juliet set in 1950s New York, Bernstein’s West Side Story is a classic tragedy of an unconventional relationship that is unaccepted by society. Although not sharing in its tragic ending, Maurice definitely builds on the cultural trope of two star-crossed lovers desperate for an escape from a prejudiced society. Bernstein himself was gay, although he spent much of his career closeted, and West Side Story (particularly “Somewhere,” but also “One Hand, One Heart,” “Tonight,” and “Finale”) became emblematic of the struggles that gay couples face, especially with the popularity of musical theatre among American gay men. The lyrics (copied below, but I highly recommend finding the 1957 ballet version or the 1961 film version!) represent Maurice and Alec’s story beautifully, and the fact that Robbins was inspired by this piece of media that holds so much significance for queer people when composing the soundtrack for Maurice makes my gay little heart grow three sizes <3

There's a place for us, Somewhere a place for us. Peace and quiet and open air Wait for us, somewhere.

There's a time for us, Some day a time for us, Time together with time spare, Time to learn, time to care. Some day, Somewhere, We'll find a new way of living, We'll find a way of forgiving. Somewhere, Somewhere . . . There's a place for us, A time and place for us. Hold my hand and we're halfway there. Hold my hand and I'll take you there Somehow, Some day, Somewhere!

CLIVE AND ANNE

For Clive’s final scene, Robbins returns to piano and string instrumentation in the melody, representing a return to the traditional life that Clive now finds himself living with Anne. This variation on Clive’s signature melody, however, is significantly slowed down, almost to the tempo of a funeral march or dirge. As he shuts each of the windows, eventually stopping for a brief moment to reminisce on his time with Maurice, the melody grows increasingly loud and desperate as the high woodwinds are layered in. The sudden and dramatic development of this piece sound like a futile cry out for help, as Clive remains trapped in a prison of his own creation. The composition ends without a concluding chord, tense and unresolved. It’s fascinating to me that we can hear Robbins’ simultaneous resentment and pity for Clive—though the piece is deeply sorrowful, Robbins does not leave Clive with a satisfying ending, choosing to keep him suspended in the societal purgatory that he chose for himself. 

END TITLES

Are you crying yet? No? I don’t believe you. Robbins establishes the ending to the story by building the piece off of a gentle, pastoral variation of Maurice’s low clarinet melody. The legato chords and balance of high and low instrumentation recall Robbins’ musical sampling of “Somewhere” before the melody shifts into a call-and-answer duet between the clarinet (alongside an oboe) and flute. Much like the clarinet and flute duet in “The Moonlit Night,” the two lines blend together—but in this final composition, Robbins has written the two parts as complementary, yet distinctly different, rather than imitations of one another or two segments of a single line. The melody becomes a conversation between two harmonizing entities who are sharing in the creation of something wholly new. The duet tapers off into an English horn solo over a harp line, bringing back the idyllic English countryside that we first saw young Maurice exploring in “Prologue – The Lesson.” In this final piece, Robbins adds on to this solo with the clarinet and flute before the melody spreads throughout the full orchestra and builds to a grandiose and rousing finale. I think the English horn solo is the part that breaks me every time because of its introduction in the very beginning of the story— through this understated melody, Robbins is assuring us that Maurice did stay true to himself, and he did find his happiness, though it may not be what Ducie or anyone else wanted for him. Maurice and Alec in the clarinet and flute, alongside the English horn, managed to find harmony in each other and peace in a life built on a love they shared, and nothing more.

[smokeybrandreviews]

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Super Green

The Green Knight s finally out and i can see it without having to wait a month and a half! I thank A24 for this rather quick turnaround because this thing has been on my radar fr what seems like forever! I’ve written about this before but A24 is my favorite studio releasing content. Neon is a close second and Netflix is making a real charge, but A24 releases classics. Some of my all-time favorite films are A24 products. Ex Machina, Hereditary, Under the Skin, The VVitch, Uncut Gems, Zola, Midsommar, Lady Bird, Eighth Grade, The Lighthouse, High Life, The Monster, Enemy, Climax, Room, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, The Disaster Artist, and Under the Silver Lake have all impressed in one for or another, all of them A24 offerings. This studio is f*cking amazing and i cannot sing it’s praises enough. They’ve been around for less than a decade, A24 was founded in August of 2012, and they’re brought this level of quality consistently. The Green Knight has all of the workings to slide right into my all-time list, just like Ex Machina and Hereditary did before it. Let’s see if i really love it as much as i think i will.

The Exceptional

The first thing that hits you is how f*cking gorgeous this film is. Seriously, i was immediately captivated by that opening scene with Gawain rushing for Mass. It definitely opens up as the film progresses and you are treated to one of the most visually striking films of the year. This movie could give Denis Villeneuve, Ari Aster, or Robert Eggers a run for their money. Seriously, you can frame several shots in a museum and no one would know the difference between that and the Van Gophs on display.

I r0aely mention this but it’s absolutely necessary that i do in this particular review because it was just that memorable. The sound design made this film. I’m not talking about music choice or score, but the actual sound effects for specific scenes. That sh*t was some of the tightest I've ever hear on a film and it really added to the overall experience. Just the way the Green Knight creaked and popped as he moved was more than enough to get this mention but there is so much  ore than just that. I hate that i had to see this at home because, f*ck, this thing would have sounded like god in a proper theater.

I mentioned that you can frame these shots in a museum before and a lot of that shine belongs to the cinematography. The shots chosen for this film are breathtaking. I imagine a lot of that has to do with location but even the scenes filmed in dank castles and murky bogs popped with that same, meticulous, shot composition and it really gave those scenes life. The were ties when my jaw dropped at the majesty of a scene. The one with the giants immediately comes to mind. Like, f*ck, was that beautiful to witness.

In that same breath, you have to know when to pull back. Editing is just as important to a film as anything else and The Green Knight is cut with a precision I've rarely seen. This thing has no fat whatsoever. It presents to you exactly what you need and little else. I love that. I love that this film has a story to tell and it tells it with extreme prejudice. These cuts were made with intent. That’s rare nowadays.

I also have to give a nod to the use of color and lighting. Again, it’s not something i ever really focus on but goddamn is it necessary for this review. Light plays a very important role in how this story was told. Certain scenes absolutely need it and others are perfectly accentuated by it. It takes a deft hand to juggle such a nuanced aspect of film and The Green Knight has done that the best this year. So far.

This film has a very real, very potent, atmosphere. It’s not tension, not like Uncut Gems of Good Times, but there is this unrelenting sense of dread that runs through this entire film. It’s measured and restrained but it’s always there. I appreciate that. For a film to illicit such emotion out of me is testament to the mastery of it’s visionary.

All of the praise I've given to the technical aspects of this film would be for naught if i didn’t recognize the director, David Lowery. This dude is fast climbing the list of my favorite directors. I actually listed  bunch above but, after seeing what he’s gone with this film, dude is really making a case for himself. He did the Pete’s Dragon remake which i hear as pretty good, and A Ghost Story but i haven’t seen either. Not really my cup of tea. But if they’re as good as The Green Knight, i might have to revisit that thought because, holy sh*t, this dude can direct the f*ck out of a film.

The writing is on point. I legit hesitated to put this on here because it is the weakest aspect of  everything else in this film but that is misleading. The writing is exceptional. There is no way this film could be as good as it is, if the script was dog sh*t. The material given to these performers had to the top tier in order for them to give the performances they did and and they definitely f*cking did that!

This whole cast really f*cking delivered. Sarita Choudhury as Mother and Sean Harris as the King were easily the best of the supporting cast but everyone else brought that same energy. Joel Edgerton, Kate Dickie, and  Barry Keoghan, all deliver powerful performances. Hell, this is the best I've ever seen Erin Kellyman act and i have to give a lot of credit to the overall quality of this cast delivered. That said, there are three individuals who put everyone else to shame and i say that knowing exactly how much praise i just heaped upon them all.

Alicia Vikander comes in and delivers on two roles, Essel and the Lady. This isn’t surprising at all because she always delivers. I’m never disappointed by her performances. Admittedly, i haven’t seen many but that’s because she is very particular about the characters she signs on to portray. That said, it’s weird the two performances she’s done that immediately jump out to me, are both with A24 films. Her Eva in Ex Machina, and that film in general, is what made me even take notice of both her and A24 as a studio. Here we are, seven years later, and she’s still blowing my mind. F*cking exceptional.

Ralph Ineson is almost unrecognizable in the Green Knight make-up but the second he opens his mouth, you immediately recognize that gravitas. There is a weight to this character and you f*cking feel it with every move Ineson makes. Dude isn’t in it much but the scenes he does appear in are absolutely stolen by this big, green, maestro of his craft.

More than anyone, this is Dev Patel’s film. This dude is a great actor but it’s rare someone gets a part where they can really bite into the content but that is not the case with this role. No, sir, this sh*t was tailor made for Patel and he definitely digs right the f*ck in. His Sir Gawain is just as good as his Jamal Malik from Slumdog, if not better. Seriously, this film would be nothing without Patel. As outstanding as every other aspect that i gushed about in this brilliant goddamn film, the very best is Dev Patel’s performance. Seriously, that sh*t, alone, is worth the watch.

The Verdict

The Green Knight is f*cking exceptional and exceeded all of my expectations. This year long wait was more than worth. It's the best film of the year so far, leap-frogging into my top twenty all-time and I've seen thousands of films. This thing is a masterpiece on all levels. Narrative, plot, lighting, performances, sound design, composition, editing, score; It's the closest thing to a technically perfect film I've seen in quite some time. If Dev Patel doesn't get an Oscar nod for this, there is no justice in the world because he f*cking carries this movie. Patel is easily the strongest force driving this incredibly compelling watch, but Alicia Vikander, Erin Kellyman, Sarita Choudhury, Ralph Ineson, Sean Harris, Kate Dickie, and Barry Keoghan all match that energy with f*cking gusto. I was absolutely mesmerized by the way these absolute masters in their craft, embodied and gave their respective characters life, particularly Vikander. She never disappoints.

The only issue I see that would hinder someone actually getting into this film is the fact that it's a little long in the tooth. You never really feel it, as long as you buy into the fact it's a character study and not a high concept fantasy film filled with dragons and sh*t. If you think Michael Bay and Zack Snyder are the pinnacle of cinematic excellence, pass on this. You won't make past the first tn minutes. Also, make better life choices. No, this is about Gawain and it never deviates from that core drive. Weird sh*t happens, sure, but it's nothing as fantastical as Smaug or a Balrog. Even so, this f*cking movie kept me glued to the edge of my seat. I loved every second of it and cannot sing it's praises enough. My only regret is that I didn't get to see it in a proper theater. This f*cker would have been a real experience to see on a proper cinema screen, especially that shot with the giants. The Green Knight is outstanding and deserves all of the praise it's gotten and so much more.

[dissident-vedder]

- fame ( 𝐄.𝐕. )

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you are a famous child actor that eddie has had a crush on ever since he could remember. now that you are a young woman in your twenties filming for the movie 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑠, maybe it was fate that brought you two together.

A/N - layout by @adoresobs​!  i don’t know, this may suck.

acting had been your passion. ever since you were five years old, you graced the screens of many tvs and movie theaters, going from playing an artist’s daughter on sesame street in 1973 to one of the older orphaned teenagers on the musical annie to a lifeguard on baywatch. your character on the show was taken off due to filming conflicts; they had written her so she got an opportunity to go to college with a full-ride scholarship. all throughout your nineteen-year acting career, young eddie had watched every movie and show you were in, his crush on the [y/r] woman that glorified every monitor you were on.

when he was nine years old, he began rewatching sesame street just because you were on it. his friends at school made fun of him, but they just didn’t understand. they didn’t understand his need to see you on his tv screen, to hear you speak. he began watching baywatch when it came out in 1989 just because he heard you were on it. and he was mesmerized by the way your body fit into that swimsuit, the way you looked so perfect when you ran despite them always putting it in slow motion, the way your hair bounced everytime your foot made contact with the sand. he was in love with every inch of you.

in 1991, when he heard that you were no longer going to be on baywatch, he was disheartened. his favorite actress saving people after they did something he loved to do was addicting to him. he longed to be in their spot. but then he heard that it was due to filming conflicts, and knew immediately that it was because you had other things coming out. when he and his band released their debut album, ten, he hoped it got big enough for them have their names be heard around the world. he hoped you listened to their music, hoped that you loved his voice and the lyrics he wrote, loved the music videos.

close to his birthday in 1991, he heard that you had an interview with david letterman, and he was going to watch it. he had to. he flipped to the channel it was on and waited for you to come onstage. when you were introduced by letterman, the audience cheered as you walked out onstage in a black loose minidress with spaghetti straps, your hair done in the latest style as you waved to the camera, smiling widely as you got nearer to letterman and gave him a hug. it was short, quick, and you say down immediately once the two of you pulled away. the interview went on as usual, david asking you if you had any upcoming projects, you answering them vaguely, and you recounting stories from the photos he showed, laughing at the funny bits, blushing when you got to an embarrassing detail that involved you, and nodding to show you understood the question you were being asked. “have you been eyeing anybody as of now?” letterman asked. “you’ve been single since you debuted in acting back in 1973, and now you are a twenty-three year old woman, and no sign of a lover!” the audience chuckles at him.

“um. . .” you laugh a little. “i haven’t been seeing anybody, i’m a busy person, so i don’t have much time even for myself, let alone somebody else. but god. . .” you rubbed your elbow, a telltale sign you were a bit nervous. “eddie vedder from the band pearl jam is really cute. i wouldn’t mind meeting him.”

“that’s who your eyeing?” letterman asks. you nod, and eddie feels his heart swell in his chest. you knew who he was. you knew his band, you listened to him, watched his interviews. “yeah,” you defend, “i like energetic guys with blue eyes and long brown hair. he’s cute.” someone in the audience whistles and cheers, causing you to laugh. “he is! i’d love to meet him someday.” eddie’s palms begin to sweat, his eyes widen and he begins breathing heavily. he was your type. you liked him.

“have you listened to their album?”

“i’m sorry?” You turn your attention back to letterman.

“have you listened to pearl jam’s album?”

“yes, i have!” you nod. “it’s amazing!”

“what’s your favorite song?” letterman organizes the pile of notes in his hand, the rhythmic sound of the pat, pat, pat sounding loudly through eddie’s tv speaker. you click your tongue, leaning back in your chair, hands holding on to the armrests.

“oh, god, that’s hard,” you thought for a moment. “it’s a tie between oceans, garden, and black.” your hands tap against the rests three times — left, right, left. “it’s hard to choose, he’s got such a dreamy voice!” you chuckle, trying to calm yourself down as the small weepings of your crush begin to come out of you. they’ve done some interviews for their album and a few live shows, which you’ve watched as much as you could in order to see the frontman, loving the way he was so energetic and full of happiness.

the rest of the interview went by in a blur for you and eddie, and he went to bed, your face imprinted on the backs of his eyelids as he fell asleep.

a few short months had passed before eddie and the rest of the band were asked to come on-set to act out their very few scenes, not knowing who else, other than matt dillon and chris cornell, were going to be there. you were off-camera, readjusting your jean jacket sleeves as matt and the others were getting ready for the restaurant scene. eddie was sitting across from matt, on the edge of the seat, sharpie in hand as he listened to what jeff was reading about the fictional band, citizen dick. you noticed him, hair tucked behind his right ear as he said one of his only lines, “a compliment for us, is a compliment for you.”

cliff, matt’s character, begins to object, when you were given the clue to get on-set and sit next to matt, as you were playing his childhood friend, ruby. eddie’s face showed momentary shock as you sat on matt’s left thigh — as was scripted — and took a sip of the coffee from his cup. “i’m guessing you all read the news article about you, huh?” you restated the line you read over and over in your home and in the dressing room, your arms crossing in front of you and you begin leaning on them, forearms pressed against the wood.

“yeah,” matt placed his hand on your hip, sensing that you had gotten a little wobbly and was making sure you didn’t fall. “this negative energy just makes me stronger.” you chortle into the cup, “sure.”  the watch your character wore began beeping, alerting you to act as if you were rushing. “i have to go, see you all later!” a chorus of deep, male, “bye!” follows you as you walked over to the diner’s door and walk out. the director yelled out, “cut!” and all of you knocked out of character.

standing in line to grab a quick lunch, you eyed the crowd, in search of the frontman of the grunge band, quickly recognizing him by his bandmates, his blue eyes frantically looking around. once he spotted you looking at him, his cheeks flare up, heat rushing into them as he looked back to his friends. he wanted to come up to you and talk, but he was just too shy, too flustered to make any real conversation, let alone any small talk. if only he had the confidence one of his former classmates had, then he would make conversation, ask you out on a date and just overall be with you. noticing his hesitation, you planned to talk to him later when he was away from his bandmates just so he was at ease in some form and they weren’t around to make fun of him; you could at least do that much for him. 

“eddie!” you called out as he walked away from your direction, not noticing you sitting on one of the couches in the lounge area, standing up from the comfortable cushion to make your way over to him. he paused midstep, recognizing your voice instantly, heartrate picking up at the thought of you talking to him, hearing your footsteps coming closer to him. clenching his hands in his jacket pockets, he takes a deep breath before facing you, blue eyes wide as he eyes your figure coming closer to him, a reassuring smile sketched on your lips. “are you alright? you look a little nervous,” you stated, eyebrows furrowing as you noticed the somewhat deep breaths the frontman took.

“yeah,” he blushes deeper. “y-yeah, i’m fine.” he clears his throat. “what are you doing here?” 

“i work here,” you chuckle lowly, crossing your arms across your chest. “but are you okay, really? remember, i’m an actress. i can tell when someone is acting or not.”

so you saw through his lie, he noted. “um. . . i’m just nervous to be around you, that’s all.”

“why?”

“’cause he has a crush on you, that’s why!” mike’s voice calls out through the studio, causing eddie’s blush to become deeper and to spread across his ears, his head bowing to hide his face. 

“really?”

a nod. you took a step forward, reaching forward to take the cook county native’s face in your hands, moving it so it faced you, a small smile on your lips, reassuring and warm. “you want to take this somewhere your bandmates wouldn’t interfere?” 

another nod.

“okay, come on,” you took his hand in yours, leading him through the many corridors and crew members to what was your dressing room, a private place that was rare nowadays. “sit anywhere you’d like.” there was the makeup chairs you sat in every single day, multiple times a day, a sofa in the corner of the room, and a director’s chair with your last name stamped onto the back. he took the sofa, hearing you lock the door behind you, giving you and him more privacy. “i’m sorry your friend did that,” you said as you made your way to the makeup chair, one foot still on the floor while the other was resting on the crosshatched wood pieces between the legs of the chair. you did it to give him the space he possibly needed, but to eddie, it seemed like you were avoiding him. his heart broke even more. 

“i should’ve expected that, if i’m being honest,” he chuckled, trying to get rid of the embarassment that settled deep in his bones, but you still saw the blush that was slowly creeping away. 

“they still had no right to do that,” with this, you stand up, make your way across the room, and sit down next to him, taking his hand in yours. they were warm; rough at the fingertips at the many years of playing guitar. you could feel the small calluses that were healing, the small imprints of the guitar strings, telling you that he had been playing recently, locked away in some small room. you sighed, “today is your last day here on set. i didn’t get to spend enough time to know you, but i got to talk to your bandmates.”

he nods, “yeah, i guess time works in mysterious ways.”

“but it doesn’t have to. how about i take you out to dinner?”

shocked, his head snaps up, peering into your [y/e/c] eyes, round and hopeful. “really?” you nod, laughing when you see his smile widen. “yes, really.”

“i’d love to!”

TAGLIST:

@stateofloveandvedder​ @state-of-love-and-lust​ @honeysympathy​ @grossgold​ @sea-sxns​ @d-arknecessities

[espinosaurusrexex]

Protective

In which jeff is really protective over Y/N, because he has a crush on her

warnings: cursing

a/n: for the very lovely anon who requested a Jeff imagine. Thank you so much! I had to change it a little bit but the main thought behind it is still there.

I kinda got inspired by ‘nobody puts baby in the corner’ from @fanficimagery. I just had to think about that imagine when I read the request for this one and thats that. I hope you like it! Please tell me what you think.

word count: 1.5k

All she did was sit there and sort bills from the month prior. But that was all it took for Jeff to be mesmerized for an hour. Y/N had glasses sitting on her nose and some loose strands of hair framing her face while she concentrated on the pile of paper in her lap. Jeff couldn't help himself. She was beautiful. If he could he would ask her out right then and there, but sadly, there were a few factors that made this move harder than it already was. 

One: She was his friend’s assistant, which meant that if things would get awkward between them, Jeff couln’t avoid seeing her every day for a very long time. Though, that was something he would take the risk for. Just the sake of knowing if she felt the same was enough, honestly. But it was difficult.

Because Secondly: She was a tad younger than him. Which shouldn't bother anybody, honestly, considering that their friend group’s age ranged from pretty much toddler to grandpa. Both, mentally and physically. And there had been people dating in their group whose age gap was even bigger than Jeff and Y/N’s. She was legal to date too, so why was he so hesitant about it? 

Well, Jeff wanted to believe that he didn't know, but deep down he did. Sometimes his age made him insecure, but he wouldn't admit that. Not to himself and most certainly not to his friends. He wouldn't let any oh so reasonable argument ruin the feeling that filled him with warmth when he looked into her eyes, the tingle that made his breath hitch when their skin touched, or the smile he went to bed with, every night, because of the thought of her.

Yes, she was younger, but that just made her so much more adorable to him. All he wanted to do was to protect her, cuddle and hold her while enjoying her warmth and scent that crawled back into is nose now that he thought about it. Especially, now that Natalie seemed to have gained an sort of untouchable status: She wasn’t obliged to do any stupid shit David came up with, including paintballguns and make-out sessions. Y/N on the other hand, had not reached that level of appreciation from her boss just yet. She still had to go through all that. Which was, why Jeff found himself a lot closer to her more frequently. Ready to protect her face or body at any given time, just like he did right now.

Jeff sat on the floor across from her. He studied her features, relishing the silence that didn’t happen too often in Davids house. She never noticed when he looked at her. Or at least, she didn't show any signs of recognition, which just made it so much easier for Jeff. And on top of that, thrilling. Was she ever going to notice? Was she ever doing the same thing to him when he wasn't watching? 

She was. And Jeff never noticed, either. 

Screaming boomed from down the hall and soon david was chasing someone through his house, flamethrower in hand and a crazy laugh pulling on his face,making the whole scene even scarier. Y/N flinched, too focused on her work to look up and leave her neatly stacked papers out of sight.

‘’Ahhhhhh!’’ 

‘’Watch out!’’ David came running through the living room. In an Attempt to jump over Y/N and the papers, he tripped, knocking the stack over. Papers flying everywhere, he crashed to the floor right in front of her. Jeff had reacted pretty quickly, pushing Y/n to the side to protect her from any harm the flamethrower could have done and proceeding to hover over her frame for a couple more seconds.

‘’Dude!’’ Y/N breathed out and Jeff wasn't sure if her comment was directed towards him or her idiot of a boss. He ignored it and studied her face for any injuries, then maneuvering his body  towards David, who was lying on the floor, clutching his stomach from the laughter bursting out of him. 

‘’What the fuck, bro?!’’ But David didn't seem to mind. He was happy to have had somebody film this incident, he would post on his youtube channel later that week. Jeff turned his attention back to the woman on the floor. His hands were still wrapped around her shoulders and her stare was fixed on him for a solid minute. 

‘’Are you ok, doll?’’ He checked her body once again before looking back into her eyes.

‘’Yeah.. Yeah, thanks, I…’’ Y/N stopped for second scrunching her nose in the process and let her eyes wander around the room. ‘’Do you smell that?’’

With that, Jeff noticed the smell of fire. He didn't think much of it before, thinking it was still from the flamethrower that had now been shut off for everyone's safety. But Y/N was right, it smelled differently. Jeff looked around and found the source of the smell on the carpet less than a feet away from him and her. One of the paper had caught fire and was about to share its flames with the carpet beneath it.

‘’Woah!’’ Y/N scooted further back while Jeff lunged forward to put out the fire. He was quite fast and managed to sooth the situation with his foot and soon the fire was out.

‘’Bro, you always do this shit! You could’ve hurt Y/N! And look at the fucking mess you’ve made.’’ Jeff’s blood was boiling. He motioned to the scattered sheets of paper on the floor, Y/N had sorted a few seconds prior and his heart ached as he noticed the blank expression on her face. He had watched here organise these documents for hours and now she could start all over. 

Jeff clenched his fists approaching David who was just holding his camera and reviewing the footage Jason had recorded of him. He snached him on the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward, making David press out a screechy ‘woah’ by the outburst of his friend’s sudden anger. 

‘’Jeff calm down!’’ Somebody screamed, but Jeff didn't listen. His mind was set on David, who had been backing into a corner as soon as he caught sight of him.

‘’Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you! Have you even noticed, what just happened or can’t your brain take in more than one information at once?!’’

David’s eyes widened at his words but the anger in Jeff did not stop from rising, slowly reaching up and making his heart beat even faster. -how could someone be so inconsiderate?- The shaggy haired boy put up his hands in defense, closing his mouth after an attempt of a counter argument. He knew he had fucked up, and seeing that Jeff really cared about Y/n didn't ease David's mind in the slightest. He had never seen him this angry, not even when he was acting for the vlogs. 

‘’Yo, I’m sorry I fucked up, okay?’’ David could see the heat vanishing from Jeff’s face and dared to let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

Jeff shook his head letting go of David, who had relief rushing all over him. ‘’Just be more careful next time.’’ He went back to help Y/N, turning back to his friend one more time. ‘’I can’t hurt you, because that would cost too many people I love their job, but just know that you are fucking stupid.’’ 

David stood there dumbfounded as he watched Jeff help his assistant collect the papers and following her in the hallway, where they disappeared. Y/N had shot him an apologetic look while mouthing a ‘sorry’ before leaving the room. Jason and Natalie were speechless, too.

‘’Does Jeff have a crush on Y/N or something?’’, Natalie joked to lighten up the mood, but David was stiff, training his eyes on the corner his friends had just rounded. That had definitely been noted.

Jeff and Y/N had settled down on her bedroom floor, spreading out the papers that survived the incident and started sorting them once again. Y/N was quiet. Too upset with the previous happenings and her work, which had been ruined so mindlessly. Jeff watched again as he placed the last papers on the floor.He never wanted to agitate Y/N in any way.

‘’I’m sorry about that…’’ His head hung low as he let the guilt take over his features. Jeff didn't even bother to look up, too deep hung the guilt in his face. He had forgotten about the image he wanted to portray in her presence and scolded himself for the sudden outburst.

‘’It’s alright.’’ A small smile snugg on her lips. ‘’Honestly, I’m glad somebody finally told him…kinda’’

They both looked up, a hint of a smile on their faces. Jeff found himself getting lost in her eyes again. He loved being her friend. Though, he would prefer to be more than that, he would give her all the time she needed to realize how perfect they were for each other. But until then, he would just enjoy the time with her and cherish their every moment.

[lonelythoughtsinmybed]

game review ✂︎--- life is strange 2: episode 1

soo, i played episode 1 for free :). if you want to play it for yourself, get it here.

i don’t think this review is gonna be too long, only because i only played episode one so i can’t really say much.

i wish there was more music being played. there were only like two i liked (well girl probably cause you only play ONE episode) and they were mediocre if i have tbh. one thing i do love is the graphics. i always refer stuff like this to the sims games. life is strange is like sims 3 while life is strange 2 is like sims 4. this is because sims 3 is a lot more fun, but the graphics could be better. however, the sims 4 has much better graphics, but gameplay gets dry because they’ve stripped the game down. that’s what the LIS games remind me of lol. ik i have to play the rest of the episodes to get the scoop, but i’ve already seen jacksepticeye play it. i probably shouldn’t have, but that’s what i always do lmaoo i can never try something without prior knowledge of it. and while i did like his gameplay, i didn’t feel as obliged to get the game as i did the first LIS. i loved how adventurous and climactic it was, but i just didn’t feel connected to the main characters. maybe i don’t find brotherly relationsihps too entertaining to play.

another thing i did enjoy tho was the acting. it was much better and more involved. it really pulled the players in and that’s partly because the graphics got a lot better. facial expressions and body movements improved immensely. the hike trail/forest were mesmerizing to look at (i edited all my screencaps using @/ajitrir ‘s folk filter in lightroom). also by what i saw in jack’s gameplay, you get to see david madsen and a glimpse of the first game. you overhear a convo he has with either chloe or max--depending on what your LIS save game was. without a doubt they were going to include a LIS reference, but i was still surprised to see it.

i’m not 100% against finishing the game. i am interested to see the ending i would’ve chosen (since there are multiple if i remember correctly) and seeing david madsen ofc lol. also a fun part is the brothers meeting those cool teens in that forest and befriending them. that’s where you get to make a rebellous hair choice for sean. lmaoo i’m acting like i played the game, i literally watched someone else play it--that’s sad. but, i have only watched jack’s gameplay once, so that’s new. that being said, i remember major events, but there are some blurry parts in between so that’s why i’m still intrigued in continuing the game.

we shall see you guys. i might just need a little more convincing.

my rating of episode 1: 7/10

[glenngaylord]

OUTFEST 2020 FILM REVIEWS:  The Rest Of The Fest

As the curtain closes on another Outfest, this one presented under extremely unusual circumstances, I sit in awe of the filmmakers and of the staff who put together not only a great group of films, but managed to creatively bring them to its audience online and at drive-in screenings.  Typically, you find yourself having to choose one film over several others, but with this new format, you have a great chance of seeing everything you want.  In past years, I found myself lucky if I saw 15 films.  This year I saw 23 features and 4 shorts programs out of the 160 on the schedule.  

As it’s impossible to get full reviews submitted for everything while the festival is still chugging along, I wanted to write capsules of the remaining films not covered at TheQueerReview.com .  Please visit the website for all the other reviews I wrote as well as those by my colleagues.

THE OBITUARY OF TUNDE JOHNSON ★★★★★

Melding a Groundhog Day-style concept with police violence against black people, this stunning film could not be more prescient and emotionally overpowering.  A black gay teenager relives his moment of murder over and over again, with slight shifts in the narrative taking us to someplace unexpected and earned.  Director Ali LeRoi directs his first feature as if he’s been doing it all of his life and has interpreted Stanley Kalu’s ingenious script with a great cinematic approach.  Gorgeously framed, beautifully acted, written, and directed, this is one of the most powerful films of 2020.

TWO EYES ★★★★★

I can’t form sentences here so I’m gonna vomit out words:  Instant classic. Glorious. Set over three centuries seamlessly melding a triptych of stories about gender identity.  I’m a blubbering mess.  Fantastic and very funny last line.  Travis Fine is a very gifted filmmaker who screams love child of Terrence Malick and Kelly Reichardt.  Heartbreaking. Inspiring. Unforgettable.  Montana is so beautiful.  Barstow is not.  A perfect film for anyone who wants to find their place in the world. I wouldn’t complain if TUNDE and TWO EYES both received Best Picture Oscar nominations.  

DRAMARAMA  ★★★★

Theater nerds rule in this incredibly endearing, early 90s set film about a group of high schoolers discovering themselves in one night at a ridiculous Murder Mystery-themed party.  Hilarious script, vivid and wonderful performances, and the opposite of a “Coming Out” movie in the best possible way.  Jonathan Wysocki has given us The Breakfast Club for air-kissing, mid-Atlantic accented freaks and geeks. 

CICADA ★★★★

What happens when a traumatized, bisexual man who has more sex partners than any standard montage can contain slows things down to concentrate on one kind but also traumatized young man?  This elliptically told film has a fun, flirty side but carries its heaviness with great ease.  A terrific feature debut for director/writer/editor/lead actor Matthew Fifer. 

THE STRONG ONES (LOS FUERTES) ★★★★

From Chile comes this sexy, moving story of two men at cross purposes who form a beautiful bond.  Set against some stunning scenery and mining the chemistry between its two leads for everything it has, I am half-jokingly calling it Brokeback Andes.  It’s so much more than that trite, hackneyed comparison.  

MONSOON ★★★1/2

Director Hong Khaou’s followup to Lilting sets its sights on modern day Vietnam as Henry Golding’s character visits to find a suitable place to distribute his mother’s ashes.  It’s a terrific mediation on a gay man finding a sense of belonging in a place he’s never been and Golding proves himself to be a subtle, compelling actor.  Perhaps a little too quiet and reflective, the film makes up for what it lacks in narrative drive with its awe-inspiring cinematography and immersive qualities.  

P.S. BURN THIS LETTER PLEASE ★★★★1/2

What an unexpected surprise.  Michael Seligman and Jennifer  Tiexiera’s documentary about a treasure trove of letters dating back to the 1950s brings us into the world of drag queens from almost 70 years ago.  With many of its subjects not only alive but in fine form telling their stories and the dishiest voiceover readings ever to grace a film, I was not only thoroughly entertained, but I didn’t expect to weep like Laura Dern at the end.  Oh, this is so so so so good. 

MINYAN ★★★★

Eric Steel’s feature debut has its own unique tone and a star making performance by Samuel H. Levine, a spitting image of a young Al Pacino/Sylvester Stallone hybrid.  With its 1980s Jewish Brighton Beach backdrop, this powerful yet subtle film about a young man coming to terms with his sexuality as well as his place within his religion, it’s a stunning debut.  Ron Rifkin is stellar as Levine’s charming grandfather and Alex Hurt (William Hurt’s son) has his father’s intensity.  Fantastic, lived-in production design which feels like its decade without resorting to the usual candy colored tropes and a evocative score makes this a memorable experience.  Reminiscent at times of On The Waterfront, this film puts a fresh new spin on a coming of age tale and finds so many moving moments from first sex to an elderly gay couple hiding in plain sight.  A must-see. 

SHIVA BABY ★★★★

Writer/Director Emma Seligman must have studied Rosemary’s Baby quite a bit with this angsty story set mostly at a memorial service.  Rachel Sennott is fantastic as a young lesbian who moves from one cringe-worthy moment to the next in an attempt to avoid as much conflict as possible.  The great supporting cast includes Polly Draper, Fred Melamed, Dianna Agron, Molly Gordon, and Jackie Hoffman, all note perfect.  Less a comedy and more of an emotional horror story, Seligman knows how to make the best of a cramped space and throw up an endless variety of obstacles.  You just want Sennott’s Danielle to get her goddamned bagel with lox and cream cheese, but the fates have something else, something better, in store. 

COWBOYS ★★★★

Steve Zahn gives a career best performance in this moving story of a father with mental health issues and his trans son escaping into the Montana wilderness.  Sasha Knight makes an impressive debut as Zahn’s son and Jillian Bell expertly walks that fine line between villain and empathetic character.  Its comparisons to Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid are not coincidental.  Not perfect by any stretch, it may feel fairly conventional, but it’s tackling a vibrant subject matter.  Extra points for giving Ann Dowd a role where we don’t hiss at her. 

BREAKING FAST ★★★

Solid romcom with a Muslim backdrop, this very tight, deceptively simple script provides just the right amount of sparks between its charming leads, Haaz Sleiman and Michael Cassidy.  While structurally not breaking new ground, the entry point into a world we don’t see enough of on screen coupled with food porn for days makes this a fun, funny, goes down easy delight.

ASK ANY BUDDY ★★★1/2

Q: Daddy!  Daddy!  What were the 70s like down at the Piers in NYC?   A: Oh shut up and watch this movie.  

An experimental collage of vintage gay porn and archival footage from the disco, pre-AIDS heyday gives this film a mesmerizing, museum installation quality.  While technically without a story, you feel like you’ve gone on a journey nonetheless.  Would pair well with William Friedkin’s Cruising. 

DRY WIND ★★★1/2

Slow cinema meets voyeuristic gay porn in this one of a kind Brazilian exploration an arid small town, a workers’ union crisis, and a man obsessed with the Tom Of Finland drawing come to life who motors into his life.  Overlong and a little too obtuse as it goes along, it’s worth watching this Alice In Wonderland takes a quaalude, gets a very hairy back, and has a lot of sex in the dirt. 

NO HARD FEELINGS ★★★★

This year’s Teddy Award Winner at the Berlin Film Festival, Faraz Shariat’s film uses its backdrop of a refugee camp in Germany to tell the story of Iranians and Irani-Germans searching for a better life.  Its three leads bring a spark and youthful energy to a story with devastating undercurrents.  A wrenching glimpse into the emotional effects an oppressive culture has on its people, yet told with a driving pulse. 

LILY TOMLIN: THE FILM BEHIND THE SHOW ★★★

A look behind the scenes as Lily Tomlin and wife Jane Wagner workshop their legendary 1980s Broadway show, The Search For Signs Of Intelligent Life In The Universe.  It’s great to see these two at the top of their game and get a glimpse of their creative process, but this documentary is almost devoid of incident and feels more like a sweet gift to the fans than a fully realized film. 

SHORTS: WHAT A BOY NEEDS ★★★1/2

A mixed bag here of people searching for excitement, I found a couple of gems here nonetheless.  Not to take away from the shorts I don’t mention, I want to single out two exceptional films. Ruben Navarro’s Of Hearts And Castles looks great, has a beautiful vibe, and shows us a lovely connection forming right before our eyes.  Kiko’s Saints proves highly original as we follow a female Japanese artist on assignment in France become obsessed with a gay couple who have a lot of sex on the beach.  Combining animation with fairly explicit sex, I loved seeing the male gaze from a female perspective. 

THE CAPOTE TAPES ★★1/2

I love Truman Capote. I grew up at a time when smart authors found themselves on talk shows and were treated like superstars.  I’ve read his books and always have been in awe of his ability to be himself.  Featuring never-before-heard tapes of Capote’s friends being interviewed by George Plimpton, unfortunately, I don’t think this repetitive documentary gave me anything all that new.  It’s still touching at times and for the uninitiated, this is a great overview of his life, but I was watching the clock. 

OUT LOUD ★★★1/2

A moving look at the Trans Chorus of Los Angeles as they prepare for their first public performance.  With its ticking clock storyline, director Gail Willumsen expertly interweaves storylines of its founder and members.  As such, you really learn what’s a stake and what it means to them.  I was lucky enough to see the chorus perform David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust a few years ago and basked in the power of its mere existence…and was also ridiculously entertained. 

TWILIGHT’S KISS (SUK SUK)  ★★★1/2

This quiet charmer form Hong Kong shows us something we almost never get to see on film - two elderly gay men meeting and falling in love.  The fact that both have been married to women doesn’t stop them from exploring their feelings.  A little to gentle by half, I still was in awe of this rarity.

[illgiveyouahint]

What do you think of David and Matteo? I just finished season 3 but I’m disappointed. The story was a little weak. I liked that they dealt with the topic of transgender but that’s it. David barely had screen time and their love story was undeveloped for me. So far, I have only seen the OG and the French version. I loved both. Maybe my expectations were just high.

Hello anon,

well if you loved the french version then I'm not surprised you didn't like Druck's s3. It seems that many people love either/or and there's a certain rivalry between the druck fandom and the skam france (and skam italia) fandom. I think it depends on what kind of stories you prefer and normally watch and what you expect from a skam-like tv show. People say Druck is boring and people say Skam France is overdramatic. As someone who's from a country neighbouring Germany and who spend in Germany a semester studying, Druck always felt like coming home to me. Like I watched it from the very first clip of S1 and when I saw Jonas and Hanna and Matteo they felt so german, so normal, so everyday teenagers that I was instantly hooked.

So I personally loved Druck's s3. It might be because it caught me in a particularly hard time in my life and I was almost hyperfixating on it, maybe because from the very first scene back in s1 I've loved Matteo so much and was anticipating his season from the start or maybe because I have quite a few trans friends and therefore was feeling this story a bit more personally then I would have otherwise. After a stellar s2 my expectations were high and s3 have met them if not surpassed them in most cases. I connected to Matteo a lot and David has become one of my favourite characters of all time. Especially when I saw his kindness. I'm always drawn towards characters and people that are kind. You are right that David doesn't have much screentime (especially in 2nd half of the season) but idk I didn't felt that the story was underdeveloped. Maybe if I rewatched it this time I'd feel differently but watching it live I didn't felt it was underdeveloped just that they should have done episode 8 differently (goddamn that episode and it's weird pacing I'm still mad what was that?). Idk maybe it's one of those things where you had to be there (as in watching it live at that time). But also I think me and you might just have different tastes in terms of what we want from the media we consume. Like I love quiet films. I love asian cinema because it's so quiet and minimalistic, I love minimalistic acting. I love quiet acting. Like I like films that people would categorize as “nothing happens there”. So for me s3 is exactly my cup of tea because I was just sitting there with Matteo and his depression and I was just sitting there watching these two boys fall in love, mesmerized by it. Maybe you like things that are more dramatic, more action-driven, you like big gestures and things to be passionate and driven? And there's nothing wrong with that. It's just a different style. After all Art is subjective.

Anyway thank you for coming here to talk to me and I'm sorry that the season has been disappointing for you. I know it sucks when you come to a show that's being praised by some and you just don't really understand why because you don't connect with it.

[laschatzi]

A Sorrow That Never Was Said

A little Killian Jones love fest for @effulgentcolors - to keep her motivated!

title: A Sorrow That Never Was Said

summary: Snow finds out something about Killian’s childhood

word count: 2k

rating: G and maybe FF for family fluff?

also on ff.net and ao3 

————————————————-

“It’s so peaceful,” Emma sighs as she lets her gaze sweep across the fall-colored front yard of her parents’ small farmhouse before she admits, “although sometimes I miss the loft.”

“We had good times there,” her mother agrees, “but it was time for something new, something a bit more spacious.”

“Mhm,” she hums in agreement and snuggles deeper into Killian’s side and into the cushions of the porch swing, wrapping her fingers around the warm cocoa mug. “You’ve moved here only a few weeks ago, I’ll get used to it.”

“Wait, love.” He wriggles himself free, smiling at her whined protest in fond amusement. “Surely your mother has a blanket somewhere. You’re shivering, and for once not because of my proximity.”

Emma and her father both roll their eyes, while Snow – quite predictably – hides a grin and motions vaguely towards the house.

“On the couch,” she directs him, and he gets up from the swing, stretches his long legs and saunters inside, a tail-wagging Wilby following on his heels.

“Don’t you miss sheriffing a bit, Dad?” Emma asks, and David chuckles.

“Contrary to popular belief, farm work is not boring,” he tells her. “Besides, if I feel the need to break up a bar brawl at the Rabbit Hole, I can always come in and give you and my son-in-law a day off.” He crinkles his nose in feigned annoyance when he emphasizes Killian’s title, as he likes to do. His best friend conked him in the head once with a crowbar, flirted with his wife, and saved his life, he can take a little mockery. It’s their thing.

“He misses it,” Snow declares dryly, much to Emma’s amusement. Then a child’s muffled sob comes from inside, and she sighs. “Bit early for feeding time,” she murmurs in gentle complaint and waves Emma off when she makes a move to get up as well, undoubtedly to offer her help with baby duty. “I’ll just bundle him up and bring him and his bottle outside.”

When she crosses the hall, meeting Wilby on his way out, she throws a glance into the living room to see if Killian has found the blanket he went in looking for, but the room is empty, and the blanket is gone; she assumes he probably just went to use the bathroom. She heads for the nursery and notices only now that Neal has stopped crying and is just whimpering a bit. Halting on the spot, she contemplates for a moment if she should just quietly retreat or take him with her, because feeding time will inevitably come anyway. That’s when she hears something strange from the nursery, sounds that definitely don’t come from her infant son.

It’s Killian’s voice, low, husky, and so gentle, and at first she can’t identify the sounds, because it’s so unexpected, but then she realizes – he’s actually singing. It’s an enchanting melody she’s never heard before, and his words are much more accented than usual. It has an undeniably calming effect. Mesmerized, she stands completely still, hoping that no unexpectedly creaking floorboard will betray her, and listens to the melancholy tune.  

She stepped away from me

And she moved through the fair

And fondly I watched her

Move here and move there

And she went her way homeward

With one star awake

Apparently, the baby is as mesmerized as she is, because his whimpering has softened into mere sniffling, and then he falls completely silent as Killian’s voice becomes softer still and fades away with the last tunes.

As the swans in the evening

Move over the lake

A few soothing words are murmured, unintelligible to her, before the door of the nursery is slowly pulled open, and Killan walks quietly out of the room, backwards, carefully setting his steps. When he turns around and finds himself face to face with Snow, he stops in a startled move. She notices he’s carrying the blanket for Emma in the crook of his left elbow. He’s apparently unsure of her reaction and motions over the shoulder with his hand.

“I… uhm, I heard the wee one wail and went looking after him,” he explains a little hastily, as if he feels the need to defend himself. That’s completely unnecessary, of course; she has observed a few times that he has actually a great instinct with children.

“Thank you.” Snow smiles. “That was beautiful. Did you learn it from your mother?”

He draws a deep breath, obviously surprised and a little uncomfortable that he has been overheard. “Aye,” he finally replies. “She used to sing it to me when I was a lad.”

“Can you teach me a few more?” she asks eagerly, partly because she wants to reassure him – sometimes it seems that despite all they’ve been through, he’s still a bit insecure about his place in the family – , and partly because she really would like to learn more lullabys that are different from the ones she remembers… ancient and somehow… magical, for the lack of a better word.

Killian shakes his head slightly and slowly, in an absentminded way, as if he’s trying – and failing – to dig up more memories. For a few moments, though, he’s far away, she can see it.

“I’m sorry, that’s the only one I remember,” he finally says and then, swiftly changing his demeanor, adds in a light voice, “I could provide you with a few sea shanties, but I’m afraid,” he raises his eyebrows mockingly, “Dave would not be amused.”

Snow scrutinizes him closely, and he almost passes the examination. Almost. The familiar smirk playing around his lips doesn’t reach his eyes; those are hazed by a profound melancholy. Quite some time ago, she has understood that Killian’s sass and pirate swagger are often just a mask to hide what he’s afraid of showing; that used to be his inherent goodness during a time no one was willing to give him credit for anything, and nowadays sometimes it’s insecurity born from that self-loathe he’s carried around for centuries, or simply plain old pain. The reason is just as plain and simple: just like with Emma when she was alone, no one ever cared or even bothered to ask, because they were both lost to the world, both never mattered to anyone.

But they matter now, and she sees it as her and David’s job to show them, again and again, that they do. Emma is their daughter and own flesh and blood, but Killian is the man she loves, and a vital part of their family – and they, in return, are the only family he has. So, she’s definitely not letting him get away with this, and he seems to sense it, because he raises his hand and rubs that spot behind his ear.

“You lost her early,” she finally says softly, and there’s no question mark at the end.

He drops the act and his head, a now genuine, sad little smile briefly brushing his features.

“She caught a fever,” he then recounts. “Tried to stay with us as long as she could. Alas…“ He lets his voice trail off and tilts his head. Snow looks down at his hand, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing over the smooth fabric of the blanket he’s carrying the crook of his left elbow.

“How old were you?” she inquires gently.

“Six, I think.”

Her heart clenches when she thinks of a little boy whose childhood ended so soon and so terribly – Emma has told them the whole story about his father and what he did to Killian and his brother, although he himself never mentions any of it. She knows, he doesn’t want to come off as making up excuses for the dark path he has chosen to walk on for a long while of his life, and he surely doesn’t want pity.

“What was her name?” she asks to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

Almost automatically, his mouth curves up in a fond, albeit melancholy smile. “Alice.” He says it almost reverently.

“Alice,” she repeats, “that’s beautiful.” She cocks her head and gives him a conspiratorial glance. “It should be passed on.”

That remark apparently pleases him, because he averts his eyes for a moment and smiles bashfully. “Thank you,” he replies in a husky voice.

Snow raises her chin and studies his face. “What did she look like?” she wants to know.

He thinks about his next words for a few moments. “Her eyes were of a deep blue, and she had ginger hair,” he says slowly, thoughtfully – but not as if he has to struggle to properly remember, but more as if he’s reveling in the memory. “She was really beautiful.”

She nods, her lips playfully pursed. “Ah, now that explains a lot.”

Killian fixes his gaze on her, raising his eyebrows knowingly. “I’m aware of what you’re doing here.”

“You are? And what would that be?”

He sways his head. “You’re trying to appeal to my infame vanity, so I forget to be sad.”

Snow chuckles, not embarrassed in the slightest that she’s been busted. “Well, did it work?”

He draws a deep, pensive breath. “Thinking of her doesn’t make me sad, actually,” he explains and, after a short pause, adds, “I’ve learned some time ago that it’s better to let go of all the past anger, hurt, and pain, otherwise it will consume you, as it did me for three hundred years.” He looks down at the soft plaid of the blanket he’s still caressing absentmindedly. “It’s better to hold on only to the good things worth remembering.”

“True.”

Snow remembers all too well being in that dark place herself again and again, during her long, lonely hours of being on the run, orphaned, outlawed, stripped of everything, and living with the death threat by an evil sorceress, when she was barely more than a child. Being surrounded by her surrogate family, the dwarves, and friends like Red, and of course her True Love, helped her stay on her path more than once, or else… who knows if she would have succumbed to the darkness and strived only for revenge on Regina and her mother. Killian, on the other hand, was alone for centuries, with no one to show him a way out of the abyss.

She puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look, Killian, I know that what once was lost can never be replaced,” she begins, and despite his head still being tipped down a bit, his eyes meet hers again, watching her closely. “But now,” she continues, “we built something to make sure that we never have to be alone again, none of us – a home.” He doesn’t say anything, but that telltale muscle in his jaw ticks, and she knows she’s getting to him. “I want you to know,” she adds firmly, “that we succeeded with that also because of you, and that you’re a very important part of this family.”

The corners of his mouth finally lift in a soft, bashful smile, accepting, and his voice is a bit rough when he replies, “Thank you, Milady.”

She scoffs fondly. “You’re still going to call me that on my deathbed, right?”

Killian tilts his head in gentle mockery. “You know I will.”

She presses her lips into a smile and loops her arm through his, pulling him away from the nursery door where they’re still standing. “Come on, feeding time can wait a little longer.”

When they come out, David looks up from the dog whose head he’s been scratching and frowns questioningly. “Where’s Neal?” Wilby whines a bit in protest when his favorite human’s moves slow down.

Snow shrugs and waves her husband off. “False alarm.”

Killian settles back down on the porch swing next to Emma, and immediately she curls against him and hums in contentment when he drapes the blanket over her shoulders.

“Better?” he murmurs and presses a kiss on the crown of her head, smiling to himself as she buries her cold nose against the crook of his neck.

“Perfect,” she sighs.

Snow’s mouth curves into a serene smile as she watches her family.

[xiolaperry]

The Piano - Chapter 7

Summary: Belle French and her daughter arrive in New Zealand to an arranged marriage with Gaston LeGume.  Gaston shows little interest in her or her piano and books. However, Mr. Gold is fascinated… (Rumbelling of the 1993 film “The Piano”)

Rating: E (for smut, dark subject matter and violence)

Also available on AO3

--

Tilly had a hard time getting her mother's attention on the way home.

“Mama, I had fun with Emma today!” ... “I showed everyone my cat!” … “When are we going to finish my wings?” … “Mama?” … “MAMA!”

Her mother finally responded, but Tilly was angry. Her mother always listened to what she said, and she didn't like this development at all. She stomped the rest of the way home.

The change that evening confused Gaston. With a furrowed brow, he listened to Tilly's stories of the day spent at his aunt's house. Belle stared at nothing, and made no attempt to enter the conversation. It was strange at first, talking to a child. He told her some anecdotes about the people she'd met that day, and she was interested. Gaston loved attention, and her childish questions and enthusiasm flattered him.

Belle was industrious the next day, keeping her mind occupied and away from thoughts of Mr. Gold. The garden was weeded, clothes were scrubbed, and the floors were washed. Tilly grumbled at all the work. Belle suggested they make a cake, which brightened her mood in an instant.

Gaston didn't notice her clean floors, but he liked the cake, which Tilly took credit for.

As she lay in bed that night, she could not decide if she hoped for rain or sun.

---

After a breakfast of leftover cake, Gaston split kindling for the stove. Tilly skipped and sang as she stacked it for him. Belle occupied herself in the garden until it was time to leave. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, so Tilly joined her. As they walked, Belle reminded her daughter to thank Mr. Gold for his gift.

Gold was pleased to see them both. He liked Tilly; she spoke to him with a friendliness he had not encountered with other children. And with her here, he had an incentive to keep his hands to himself.

“Thank you for the cat, Mr. Gold.”

“You are very welcome.”

“Nicholas and Ava didn't believe me when I told them you made it for me.”

He groaned. After this, his reputation would be in tatters.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, I'm fine.” There was nothing to be done for it now.

While Tilly frolicked outside, Gold remained seated, not trusting himself to go near Belle while she played. He kept his hands occupied with his knife and a fresh piece of wood.

At the end of the session, Tilly informed him, “There’s a play next week, and I'm in it. I'm going to be an angel with a pretty blue dress and wings. Mama can only come one time next week, she has to help set everything up.”

“Yes, the annual mission holiday play. I almost forgot. Just one day is fine. And you will make a lovely angel.”

---

It was raining. No Tilly today, so there was the possibility of two keys. The anticipation coursing through her was for getting her piano back sooner. That was all. The delicious shivery feeling inside called her a liar.

After tea, she struck two black keys in quick succession, her eyebrow raised in a question.

“Yes, two keys again.”

This time she was prepared for his touch. His hands, gentle on her arms and shoulders, mesmerized her. She reveled in the sensation; it was even more thrilling than she remembered. Events proceeded much the same as the previous time. Until his hands deviated from their earlier route and caressed her breasts.

He tantalized her with the slightest amount of pressure. A butterfly landing on her would have been more forceful, but it reverberated straight down to her core. Her nipples tingled and hardened. How could a light touch be so intense? Did she want him to stop or keep going? She felt his warm exhale on the side of her neck, his nose tracing the shell of her ear. Her breath caught as her body clenched with yearning.

When Gold heard her gasp, he was disgusted with himself. A lecherous beast drooling over a vibrant young woman. She must find him repulsive. He hurried to throw a book on the bench, then busied himself with some tools on the table, keeping his back to her to hide his obvious arousal.

“That's enough for today.” He needed her to leave so he could calm down. He didn't move until the door closed, and her boots thumped down the steps.

Belle's knees trembled with the intensity of the feelings Mr. Gold had called out of her. When she was out of sight of the cottage, she leaned against a tree and closed her eyes.

She had not been with a man since Tilly's father, long ago. He had been her piano teacher, the first man other than her father she had spent any amount of time with, and she was naïve. Her mother had died when she was very young, and a series of governesses had raised her. The last had taught her piano, and her proficiency amazed the household. Maurice hired a piano teacher, and her talent grew by leaps and bounds.

The instructor's attention flattered Belle. He had not forced her; she wanted to please him, thinking he loved her. But the experience was messy, painful, and embarrassing. He had found pleasure in her body, but the act itself disappointed her. When she asked him if this meant they would marry, he quit his post without so much as a goodbye, leaving before Maurice suspected any impropriety.

At first she was heartbroken, then angry. He’d hadn’t loved her, and she’d only been lonely and didn’t love him either. She refused a new teacher; she didn't need one anymore. Her music came from within. And then, to her father's shame, it became apparent that she was pregnant. Maurice threatened to hunt the piano teacher down, but nothing ever came of it.

Was the arousal she experienced when Mr. Gold touched her what sex was meant to feel like? If so, she now understood what all the fuss was about.

---

The rest of her free time that week, Belle helped with preparations for the play.

She spent an informative day with Mary Margaret attaching feathers to sets of angel wings. It was tedious work, and it made their fingers sore. She was certain Cora had assigned them this job on purpose. When Mary Margaret brought out some refreshments, Belle took the opportunity to ask her a question. She wrote her a note: “Why do most people dislike Mr. Gold?”

“Well, David and I haven't had many interactions with him, but I can tell you what I've heard...”

Belle nodded, eager to learn more.

“He owns a lot of property and has tenants. He insists on rent being paid promptly.”

That didn't sound so bad.

“He evicts people with no leniency, charges high-interest rates, and never hesitates to seize the collateral if you can't come up with the money. He'll exploit every loop-hole.”

That sounded worse, but people shouldn't enter a contract without knowing the terms and being prepared to honor them. Exploiting loop-holes was more troubling.

Mary Margaret warmed to the topic. She shifted her seat closer to Belle.

“No-one knows his given name. It's only ever been 'Gold'. Isn't that odd? And he lives out in the forest, alone in that little cottage, and spends more time with the Maori than his fellow settlers.”

Belle understood being odd and an outsider. She didn't consider that a character flaw. She made a motion with her hand to indicate Mary Margaret should continue.

“I was told Mr. Gold used to be like the other translators, making deals with the Maori that worked to our advantage. Now, he always tries to arrange things so the Maori get the better part of the arrangement. Now they won't trust anyone else to negotiate for them. Many settlers feel he should be loyal to his own people, not the natives. David and I think everything should be fair for everyone, of course, but some are very resentful, and think he has too much influence.”

Mary Margaret stirred her tea, considering if there was anything else to add to her story. “And Cora really doesn't like him. She's always polite, but you can tell by the look on her face she wants to strangle him.”

Belle thanked Mary Margaret for the information. She went to bed that night with aching fingers and more curiosity than before.

---

Props were constructed, costumes finished, lines memorized, and finally the day of the performance arrived. Belle wore her best dress, and Gaston wore his finest suit. He looked very handsome, but he should. He'd taken twice as long to get ready, combing and re-combing his hair, polishing his boots, and straightening his cravat.

They carried Tilly's costume. She wanted to wear it right away, but to keep it from getting dirty on the walk, all the children were to get dressed at Cora's home. They left Tilly there to prepare with the other girls. Belle kissed her and wished her the best of luck.

It was strange that the holiday season was warm, she thought as they strolled to the neighboring building, another thing in her new life different from her old one. Tilly didn't care what temperature it was. She loved her angel wings, her friend, and the excitement of stage debut.

Inside, the mission was chaotic. Everyone was here, chatting and laughing while they found seats. Gold put in an appearance each year, seeing it as an opportunity to conduct business or intimidate troublesome tenants. He saw Granny talking to some old acquaintances. He greeted Cora with a smirk. Her eyes narrowed when she saw him, and she said, “Good evening,” through clenched teeth. How he'd enjoyed turning her down when she'd propositioned him after her husband died!

“With your influence of the Maori, and mine over the settlers, the two of us could rule this corner of New Zealand. Think of the power we could have.”

“I'm flattered, but uninterested,” he said, laughing. “Why would I tie myself to a woman who'd rip my heart out the second I turned my back? No, dearie. I'm far better off on my own.”

His remembrances abruptly cut off when he saw Belle. She was radiant, and he could not take his eyes off of her. She was brighter than anything else.

Belle spotted him at the same time. He made his way through the crowd, approaching her and Gaston, and she felt panic. All the air vacated the room. An overlap of the two lives, the one in Mr. Gold's home with her piano and the one with Gaston, was not acceptable nor appropriate. They were separate; they had to be. She was still overwhelmed and confused by the whole situation.

She moved in the opposite direction, sitting down in the first empty seats she found. Gaston followed. Mr. Gold did not take the hint and sat down one seat away from her.

Now she was irritated. How dare he sit there, calm and unconcerned, as she sat here, flustered, between him and her husband? He looked like he didn't have a care in the world. She'd mistaken a man's sexual interest for genuine feelings before. Was that what was going on? At least she knew where she stood with Gaston.

In a fit of pique, she took Gaston's hand in hers, placing them on her lap where Mr. Gold could not miss her display of affection. Gaston looked at her, confused. She patted his hand and gave him her biggest smile, batting her eyes. In her peripheral vision, she saw Mr. Gold noticed her actions, and his face filled with pain. He stayed a few more minutes, then stood and left. She received great satisfaction from her triumph. Until she didn't.

Belle forced herself to focus on the play. Tilly was a natural little actress. Her voice was clear and confident and she didn’t look a bit nervous. Everything else passed in a blur. One person after another introduced themselves. Mary Margaret brought her husband David over, and Granny paid her regards. Cora stopped to make a sniping remark. She was spinning. Why had she reacted with spite? To show herself she had power over Mr. Gold? She knew that already. It was not in her nature to be unkind, and it bothered her. What would happen at their next lesson?

Gaston enjoyed the evening. Everyone complimented him on Tilly's performance. He was told what a pretty step-daughter he had, and how demure and sweet his wife was. He hadn't realized what an asset Tilly could be. She made him look good, and he congratulated himself on procuring such an attractive family. Maybe he'd even let her be in the wedding photo Reverend Hopper would take after the holidays.

---

Gold rode home with a heavy heart. Seeing Belle with her husband made everything real. Why was he tormenting himself this way? She was not his, and she never would be.

He was a fool, but he didn't have to be a villain. He could continue this path with Belle, he could offer enough 'keys' and she might even have sex with him to get her beloved piano and books back. The thought made him ill. How could he do that to her? Why was he putting her in this position? Belle and Gaston looked like they belonged together, even if the man was a self-centered idiot. He was young and strong. He wasn't a crippled, bitter old misanthrope.

And Tilly. She deserved better, too. He'd entertained a fantasy of asking her to help him with his reading, picturing happy afternoons pouring over books. She’d teach him sign language, and he’d surprise Belle with a proper conversation. Embarrassment filled him for his fanciful thoughts. The realization that he was the actual idiot here, not Gaston, depressed him.

He sat and thought long into the night, drinking tea and then whiskey from the chipped cup. When dawn arrived, he knew what needed to happen.

---

Belle was on the path, trudging through the rain to Mr. Gold's house when she came upon the piano carried by Kamira and other Maori men. He gave her a cheeky one-handed salute as they passed. Startled by the turn of events, Belle ran the rest of the way.

Belle burst into the house, door slamming against the wall. Mr. Gold was sitting at the table. Her hands flew, demanding an explanation. He didn't need to understand sign language to grasp the question.

“I have given the piano back to you,” said Mr. Gold, his voice calm. “I've had enough.”

Belle felt dizzy. He had enough? Of what? Her? The music? She made a strangled sound in dismay.

Mr. Gold stood. Disheveled and pale, he appeared to have not slept.

“This arrangement will end with you a whore, and me a monster.” He took a deep breath. “I want you to care for me, but you can't.” He sat back down and poured more whiskey into his teacup. The one she had chipped. “Don't worry. They're returning for your books after they deliver the piano.”

Belle trembled. Her piano was hers again, however her overwhelming feeling was not joy, but rejection.

“Leave.”

She did not move.

“Go on, get out,” he hissed. “And don't come back.”

Belle lifted her skirt and fled.