#it’s endlessly frustrating to be a fat actor

[strawberrylovely]

i hate when people say that they love a director, because that director treats all of their actors with respect. but that director only casts skinny people. so all the people saying it are skinny and therefore have been cast in that director’s shows. so when i, a plus size person, feel slighted by that director, i feel like i have no right to say anything negative against them because everyone else loves them. 

[notmuchtoconceal]

Red Dragon was adapted to film three times. No cinematic portrayal has yet captured the particular majesty of its literary source, nor its subtle metaphysical quality, though each is interesting in its own right.

William Petersen remains my favorite Will Graham, and Manhunter the most sublime of the film versions, mainly for what it leaves unsaid. For how it draws you into a trance state through its hyper-modern design, full of minimalist white and chrome furnishings which emphasize empty space. It remains first and foremost a Michael Mann film, capturing the professionalism of being a G-man and Petersen's Will is allowed to return to domestic bliss upon its conclusion, cementing a kind of 80's optimism complete with cheesy synth music over the closing credits.

Ralph Fiennes remains my favorite on-screen Dolarhyde, mostly for he's the only actor who embodies the character's brutish physicality, though I don't particularly like the film he's in. The 2002 Red Dragon comes off like a cash-grab, capitalizing off the success of Silence of the Lambs, and its aesthetics -- while capturing more of the decaying contemporary gothic of its literary source -- are diminished by the film attempting to please too many masters. It reminds me of the similarly inferior late 90's film of The Talented Mr. Ripley, being both more loyal to what's on the page, as if to please legions of disappointed book readers, though also -- bloating the run-time with extraneous new subplots which flatter a general audience's pre-conceived biases. It frustrates you by giving you what you think you want, then doing its own thing anyway, though not very well, and you're left wishing it had just trimmed the fat and done something new instead of faffing about and having nothing new to say.

Edward Norton is by far my least favorite Will Graham, mostly for he comes across as a total charisma vacuum. Think the logic of casting him as Will was he was also a Hulk and the Narrator in Fight Club, so he's got cred struggling with latent psychopathy. Except in this he doesn't turn into a CGI monster or have Brad Pitt to play off him. Will is a complete entity in his own right and Edward Norton seems like a mask or shell.

NBC's Hannibal is the best adaptation of Red Dragon until it comes time to adapt Red Dragon, at which point it feels largely perfunctory.

As an adaptation, Hannibal is endlessly fascinating. Bryan Fuller compared himself to a remix artist, and that assessment is spot on.

When I watched the series for the first (and thus far only) time, I had just re-read the original trilogy, so I could see with fresh eyes and hear with open ears, the ways he turned bits of interior monologue into dialogue, fleshed-out the backstory, moved things around, changed the pace and flow through subtle re-framings. The closest point of comparison really is Mary Harron's excellent film of American Psycho (which distills to a sleek 102 minutes a work of four-dimensional Dostoevyskian tragedy masquerading as brand-name gore shlock), not only for how it juxtaposes primal violence with gourmet cooking, but narratively, structurally, in how it remixes and reinvents; turning Patrick Bateman's book-end revelation of his void state from a late-onset cry of despair to a stoic thesis statement simply part of his morning routine.

Bryan Fuller reinvents so much, draws out the queer subtext so totally, and ultimately has to -- the story he's telling is fundamentally about a man facing himself, being repulsed, but ultimately liking what he sees. The literary Will spurns Hannibal's one-side affections forever, which come across simply as sardonic taunts from a predator; yearning to take shelter in a woman's arms, but ending up deformed, for his primary opposite is the wounded Dolarhyde, not the Dark Prince Hannibal.

Hugh Dancy's Will is an entirely different beast. Every episode begins with based on Red Dragon, but the emphasis is right there in the title.

I suspect Bryan Fuller felt like he had to introduce Clarice at some point and kept putting it off because she had no place in the world he created. It's not only that his Will and his Hannibal are in love, and he'd be introducing a primordial tension into his own dark fantasy. The literary Will Graham may as well become Clarice. They share the same descent into the underworld to speak to the Devil Behind Bars. They speak to the same agent of unconscious revelation to get into the mind of a killer.

They are of the same mind, being both of Thomas Harris.

The Silence of the Lambs onward is a transgender narrative, not an androphilic one. The literary Clarice, prideful, self-assured, totally lacking in bullshit other than what's been trained into her, is an immediate delight. She's the one who ends up under Hannibal's control -- consent gradually surrendered -- as her true wants are revealed through drugs, hypnosis, childhood regression, the exhumation of her father's corpse. As Dolarhyde is the literary Will's shadow, so is Buffalo Bill Clarice's. She yearns to become a lawman like her father the sheriff, he yearns to become a beauty queen like the implied memory of his absent mother.

Will sees himself as a deformed monster. Clarice sees herself as a manufactured Other. Hannibal is inside both their heads.

The Devil Likes Him Some Cornpone Country Pussy.

The third book is titled Hannibal because Hannibal is its protagonist, even if for the bulk of it we follow Clarice. I had read an Amazon review back in 2008 or so, where someone accused it of being "clearly ghostwritten" because of its shift in narrative voice, yet this is wishful thinking. Its told from the detached, birds-eye view of a hyper-lucid Luciferian madman who is accounting for and manipulating all variables, luring all the extant players into his web of associations to claim his final prize.

I enjoy Ridley Scott's film version, for it's a Ridley Scott film. He has a well-studied classicism, but also a very down-to-earth ruggedness which fits the material perfectly. Most of his excisions are sensible, considering the running time. (Margot being even more politically volatile in the early 2000's when the backlash to Buffalo Bill seemed to be the trans representation issue... none, it would seem, being better than something easy to caricature by the heterosexual masses.) I recall a comment Scott made about thinking Hannibal was "turned-on" by Clarice's sense of Justice, and it being immediately clear this was his own fetish, not necessarily something implied by the text. (Picture now, Scott and James Cameron Bro-ing out about how he leveled up Ellen Ripley.)

Julianne Moore is a great replacement for Foster, being now an older, more jaded woman. The film is so deliberate, I appreciate how it inverts its literary counterpart's Satanic ending moreso than say -- the earlier un-alluded to Purple Noon, where Tom Ripley is brought to justice as if entangled in the umbilical thread of fate. Rather than Clarice being seduced by Hannibal, Hannibal is seduced by Clarice, chopping off his own hand much like a chastised young Tyr to a She-wolf Fenrir.

Bryan Fuller's treatment of the novelistic material here is close to about the only point in the series I'd call vacuous and self-indulgent.

It feels like he's subverting the pacing for the sake of being contrarian rather than giving his story room to breathe. Maybe it's because I like Scott's Hannibal so much, Fuller's treatment of the same scenes and characters feels like a pale imitation, of both its literary source and its filmic predecessor, yet I feel intuitively I may have been overwhelmed or alienated by the void of heartbreak, my rational faculties rebelling against what seems to be implications of a telepathic reality. I suspect those episodes will always be a mixed bag, being both too slow and too fast, largely for how behind-the-scenes tensions introduced conflicts into the pacing. Now understanding that his Will is replacing Clarice, and Clarice can only become the Bride of Satan by mutual recognition, I find Will's need to dive into Hannibal's past necessary, though by this point, the characters had largely outgrown whatever sources may have inspired them, and even if the second half of season 3 is more even, it feels constrained by the skeleton of its intended adaptation.

The Silence of the Lambs has been adapted to film precisely once, and it captures the essence of the novel almost well-enough to render it redundant. There's near nothing missing. What's cut is stitched back together with a surgical elegance befitting a master cosmetician.

The film is so sleek and streamlined, its makes corresponding sections of the novel seem clunky and bloated. When I remember the events of the story, I confess, I tend to remember the film better than the book, the way William Faulkner remembered his own evolving private daydreams of Candace Compson moreso than whatever it was he'd published in The Sound and the Fury -- "If you'll excuse me, I'm having an old friend for dinner." (Lecter's chemistry-based shit joke about Chilton is an absolute riot, though. Terrible it couldn't make it in.)

Anthony Hopkin's Lecter would never have become as iconic as he is without Jodi Foster's Clarice. As an adaptation, it's a masterpiece precisely because its a collaboration. Everyone on-screen is embodying a particular flavor of unspoken obsession, and everyone behind the camera is capturing it with an almost documentary realism, the same way Harris's prose has a journalistic objectivity, even when he's touring the fetid landscapes of his own inner hell. It works so well because there's no sole author to be burdened by the weight of the material. Its dispersed throughout the entire cast and crew and everyone is there for each other.

Furthermore, the story is inherently cinematic in a way Red Dragon simply isn't. Clarice is a plucky young professional woman looking to make it in a man's world, while Will Graham is retreating into early retirement for the duress the work is inflicting upon his tattered mind.

Will's isolation is chosen. Clarice's is imposed from without. We see her running the obstacle course alone. We see how male law enforcement officers look at her on the job. We see how even her own superiors need to play mindgames and switcheroos and put her at a disadvantage.

She has to play quid-pro-quo with Hannibal. She has to open up. She has to share. Will knows what Hannibal is because he's like him in a way she isn't. He can't be seduced by him. His pain is too constant, the threat too real. The literary Will lacks a certain feminine charm, which Mads's Hannibal is well-acquainted with, already seeming to have found some part of Mischa again in his friend and protégé, the gender-swapped Alana Bloom, who is also surrogate sister to Will, making them brothers.

In contrast, the novel Red Dragon is about highly introspective men being alone with themselves and thinking intense thoughts. The portraits of Will and Dolarhyde's psyches are two interlocked soliloquies which brutally clash like gongs by the conclusion. The literary Will, Dolarhyde and Hannibal are all playing the same game of cat and mouse from a distance, each alone with themselves. Hugh Dancy's Will is not only made more cinematic, but also incidentally charmingly feminine by having his monologues cut up into dialogue, as he's forced to physically converse with Hannibal, who in this version he's meeting for the first time.

The visual emphasis is also why it's so easy to reduce the filmic Buffalo Bill to a gay monster. The ways in which they function as a dark mirror to Clarice are not as obvious when you lose their interiority. When you simply present their sensual butterfly dance while the fat girl (Hollywood fat, of course) screams for help in the pain well, they become a blank screen for the audience to project their own fears of seeing or being an Other, but in a public place -- surrounded by people similarly disgusted, each a participant in the ultimate pretension of normality.

What makes the novel of The Silence of the Lambs unique is how its unmistakably a sequel to Red Dragon. The film version of Silence of the Lambs exists in relation to nothing but itself. Thomas Harris is repeating his previous work's structure, now with different characters.

It's much easier to get Clarice's interiority on-screen when you have Jodi Foster's eyes and voice to work with, and in the book she retains Will's quality of brooding intensity, but with an awareness of how what she says aloud supports and contradicts her interior monologue, which is naturally contrasted with Bill's. You can see the Clarice/Bill entanglement as a logical repeat of the Will/Dolarhyde one, and with this absent, the filmic emphasis shifts to Clarice's darkly subdued romance with Hannibal, which similarly becomes the emphasis in Bryan Fuller's television version, but with the focus of his meet-cute being Will.

That Silence of the Lambs should be such a crowd-pleaser is no surprise. It's the only entry in the original trilogy which has a happy ending which falls within the dictates of the common tribal morality. The killer is caught. The woman is saved. Clarice is redeemed and graduates on-time. Her professional surrogate father is proud of her. Hannibal escapes. An element of danger remains. A sequel promised. It doesn't ask us to dramatically re-shift our focus or reconsider all we know.

A rare act two high note.

The Devil is in the Details, and details are the domain of long-term prose.

Reading is itself a solitary and introspective activity. That is, unless one is reading scripture. That a man should realize the degree to which he is like a Devil Himself, or how that same Devil He Is could be the sole True Want of just and upright professional woman, for the so-called "Good Men" who uphold the law fear and revile her, isn't the type of thing you'd want to share communally with loved ones, unless you're willing to take on the responsibility of hurting them in the way they need to be hurt.

[ranwing]

Kadam Fic: All’s Faire In Love and War (1/1)

Title: All’s Faire In Love and War Pairing(s), Characters(s): Kadam, Kurt Hummel, Adam Crawford, Blaine Anderson, Original Characters Rating: PG13  Genre(s): slight canon divergence, major lol Klaine and Blaine (I mean this - am not at all nice to him here.  Parts: 1/1

Summary:  Taking a summer job at the New York Renaissance Faire provides some interesting opportunities for Kurt, both professionally and personally.

Read on AO3

This is something that I've had sitting on my hard drive for some time and wanted to share. It's an offshoot of my misspent youth as a Rennie and proud member of the International Wenches Guild at the NY Renaissance Faire at Sterling Forest (with the corset scars and compromising photos to prove it). Some of this is based on my real experiences in attending the faire and the friendships I made their with my fellow Rennies and the members of the cast.

It's a slight AU, where Kurt did not meet Adam at NYADA and they meet for the first time at the faire. It's a one parter now, but I may expand on it later. Ta!

Kurt turned to get a look at his reflection from the rear and had to admit that the leggings were doing wonderful things for his ass. Well, the leggings along with two semesters of brutal dance classes under the guidance of Cassandra July. That was more than enough to burn off the last of the puppy fat.

The entire costume was very flattering and showed off his toned physique nicely. The white shirt was loosely laced up the front and with the leather vest displayed the broadness of his shoulders and chest. His muscles had gotten considerably more defined with regular exercise and weapons training. The high leather boots brought attention to his long legs. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows so he could display the leather braces that emphasized his strong forearms.

“Hey Kurt, if you’re done admiring your gorgeous self, could you help lace me up?”

Kurt turned to see Nataly standing behind him, trying to hold the pieces of her corset to her chest so that she wasn’t totally exposed. She’d managed to get the corset loosely laced but was in danger of losing a piece or two.

“I’ve got you. Turn around,” he instructed. Nataly was playing a member of the queen’s court, and as such, her costume was a bit more complicated than most. The corset laced both along the sides and down the back and needed a second person to get the fit right. He’d gotten quite good at getting the ladies laced into their costumes since they’d started dress rehearsals and it was rare that he wasn’t approached by at least a few over them over the course of the day for corset adjustments. Apparently a corset could never truly be too tight, and if Kurt were a straight man, all that adjusting probably would be a lot of fun.

The young redhead smiled thankfully as she adjusted her substantial cleavage, her breasts displayed attractively by the tight-fitting garment. She gave a little shimmy to check the fit. “Thanks so much,” she said appreciatively. “They’re not going to move at all during the chess melee.”

“My pleasure,” Kurt insisted. “Let me know if you need me to tighten it later on.”

She gave him an appreciative peck on the cheek, leaving him to finish his own preparations.

This was going to be an interesting summer job, he thought as he put the finishing touches on his hair. When he saw the notice at NYADA that the Renaissance Faire was looking for actors for the summer season, especially those with weapons training, he jumped at the chance. The pay was more than he would earn at the diner and while the work would be hard and the conditions more rustic than he might prefer, it was still a professional acting job. He quickly signed up to audition and was pleasantly surprised to find that not only was he hired, but he had been cast in on of the major supporting roles and not just one of the atmosphere players.

He’d convinced Rachel to audition as well, hoping to cheer her up. She was still in the midst of an epic sulk over her failure to get the lead in Funny Girl, but was not exactly enthusiastic about the prospect of an acting job that was nowhere near Broadway. She ended up being offered a part as one of the wench singers but turned the job down because it wasn’t a prominent enough role for her. Kurt had tried to explain that because she’d never taken any of the stage combat classes, she couldn’t be offered any of the more significant parts because they all required some fighting, but she just turned him out and decided to take the summer off to mentally regroup.

Kurt thought that she was making a mistake. Sure, the faire wasn’t exactly the most important acting job around, but it was still a professional job. While some in the cast made their careers doing faires year round, there were quite a few performers in the cast who had extensive credits outside of the faire circuit and at least half the cast were professional, full time actors. Kurt would now have a professional credit to put on his CV, which was more than Rachel could claim at this stage.

And if wasn’t as if he wouldn’t have time to relax during the summer. Now that the season had officially kicked off, the cast had most of the week to themselves since the faire was only open on the weekends. A bus picked up the cast who lived in New York and drove them up to the faire grounds on Friday where they would have cast meetings and a chance to do a run through of the small changes to the shows they made from week to week. There was a campsite for them to stay at over the weekend, with a decent shower facility and his meals were provided. All Kurt had needed was a tent and sleeping bag.

So maybe the lodging options were a bit more rustic than he’d normally prefer, as he hadn’t slept in a tent since his ill-fated three months as a Cub Scout. But it wasn’t totally awful. He had bought himself a decent tent and a good mattress pad, so he was relatively comfortable. The shower were more than decent and kept surprisingly clean, and he didn’t have to walk too far for a flushing toilet. It could have been far, far worse.

And he actually enjoyed staying with the rest of the cast. They were a fun loving bunch and once the faire closed for the evening, they got to cut loose and really have a good time. Their nights were either spent at a local faire-friendly bar in town, or sitting around the bonfire at the campgrounds, singing and telling stories. He was already making friends and was looking forward to the rest of the season.

“Kurt!”

Except for that. Kurt had very much hoped that Blaine would decide to join Rachel and use the summer to relax, but his ex-fiancé had decided to audition too. Much to Blaine’s chagrin, his acting and stage combat skills were not strong enough to warrant a major role in the cast, and he’d been hired to play a wandering troubadour. His job was to walk about, flirt with the girls and sing romantic songs, which as far as Kurt was concerned was right up Blaine’s alley.

And Blaine’s costume was as much an eyesore as his normal attire could be. With the bright yellow hose, red doublet and a hat with an enormous (albeit slightly scraggly) plume, he reminded Kurt of a half-plucked rooster. He carried a mandolin, which was enough like a guitar that he could strum out a simple tune while he sang.

“What’s wrong Blaine?” Kurt asked as he adjusted the belt on his costume and looked in the mirror again. It needed a little something… maybe he’d pick up that necklace he saw one of the venders selling later on. Just to add a bit of flair.

“I was thinking… that bit before the chess game… I was wondering if I should come out onto the field and maybe try to serenade one of the princesses. And maybe try to comfort her during the match. Do you think that would work?”

Blaine trying to expand his role came as absolutely no surprise to Kurt. His showboat of an ex was never going to be content to be a background player while Kurt would be at the center of the action. It had been a source of frustration to the assistant director, who spent way too much of her time trying to corral Blaine’s flights of fancy.

“No, because once we’re all on the field, we have to focus on the show,” Kurt reminded him tersely. “There are going to be a lot of weapons flying around and it’s not safe. Besides… aren’t you supposed to be by the Kissing Bridge while the game is on?”

“But there’s no one down there but little kids,” Blaine complained. “Everyone is going to be at the chess game.”

“Blaine… it’s only our second weekend of faire. Can’t we just do what we’re supposed to without improvising for a little while?” Kurt asked. His eyes narrowed when he saw something amiss with Blaine’s hair. “Are you wearing hair gel?”

His ex shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Just a little bit.”

“Blaine, you know that we’re supposed to look like we’re from the middle ages. You should wash that crap out before Renee sees you.” The costuming director had already warned Blaine twice about his anachronistic hairstyle and had threatened to wash it out herself in the horse trough if she saw his hair slicked back again.

“But it looks awful without the gel,” Blaine whined. “You know how sensitive I am about it.”

Of course Kurt knew. Because Blaine complained endlessly whenever confronted about it. And Kurt had thrown out multiple sets of perfectly good bed linens after breaking up with Blaine because he couldn’t get the stains out of the pillow cases. Blaine had insisted on even wearing gel to sleep, which was a major bone of contention between them.

“Blaine, what do you want from me? If you get fired because you can’t follow instructions, that’s not my problem,” Kurt said dismissively. He was tired of trying to keep Blaine from going off the rails when he had his own job to focus on. “You should get out to the gates to work the crowd and let me finish getting ready.”

He turned away and hurried over to the prop room to pick up his assigned weapons. The prop master handed him a rather impressive looking medieval sword and matching dagger that were a lot nicer than the practice weapons he’d been using. Once the scabbard was belted on, he was no longer Kurt Hummel, NYADA student. He was now Beau, second in command to the Sheriff of Nottingham’s guards.

He rather liked this character and was enjoying the opportunity to play a villain. On paper, Beau was the pretty boy nephew of the Sheriff and it was being broadly implied that he got his job based on nepotism. But Kurt and Ben, the actor playing the Sheriff, had been playing around a bit with dialogue and by the end of the day, Beau would be seen as a lot smarter and more dangerous than he started out as. Kurt would be kept very busy over the course of the day with various shows that his character would be involved with, walking around the fair with the rest of the guards and harassing the other players and faire attendees, as well as the human chess game and grand melee at the joust.

Blaine’s character was sometimes on the receiving end of that harassment, and Kurt could tell that his ex hated it. He seemed to be having a problem in recognizing that this was strictly within the confines of their roles and was still nursing a stung ego about the role he was given. Kurt’s sympathy was… well, pretty non-existent. If he could play Officer Krupke with some semblance of dignity and grace, then Blaine could play a minstrel while Kurt got a chance with a bigger role for once.

It was getting close to the gate opening time and Kurt went to join Ben and the rest of the guards at the top of the hill where they could see the crowd already waiting. It looked to be a good sized number, and there were quite a few wearing costumes easily as realistic as worn by the cast. He’d already learned that the “rennies” (as they called themselves) often came every day during the season and were deeply invested with the faire. They knew all the shows well and most were more than willing to help out and loved to be pulled into the fun.

Blaine and a few other minor characters were already working the crowd, his ex-fiancé flirting with a few young women dressed as wenches, singing to them to maudlin ballad of love and they seemed torn between being flattered and laughing outright. It was cheesy, but in a rather fun way. Kurt didn’t know why Blaine was so resentful over his part, as it gave him license to be as over the top as he wanted and interact closely with his audience.

He watched as the actors playing Robin Hood and his band took over the entrance gate to warn the crowd about the nefarious sheriff and his henchmen, and couldn’t help from admiring the actor playing Will Scarlet. Adam, Kurt remembered his real name dreamily. Now that was a man who knew how to fill a pair of hose. Gorgeous, fit body, and actually British to boot. Just listening to him speak was enough to make Kurt’s toes curl.

They had gotten to know one another, at least on a professional level, during rehearsals and their interactions only heightened his interest in the older man even more. Adam was witty and funny and just a lot of fun to be around. He was exactly what Kurt could use to nurse his bruised heart after the ugly, seemingly never ending break up with Blaine.

But there was no time for daydreaming about making out on the Kissing Bridge with that beautiful piece of man. Or place, since Kurt’s leggings hid absolutely nothing and there was only so much his dance belt could contain. He needed to get his stage game on.

“Alright boys,” Ben commanded, now firmly in his headspace as Sheriff with a malicious glint in his dark eyes. “Everyone ready? Let’s go clear some rabble.”

Kurt felt his mouth curl into a lazy sneer and his eyes grew flinty as he slipped into character. Showtime.

* * *

The morning went smoothly, the cast having managed to work out most of the kinks the opening weekend. After the morning procession the guards followed the Sheriff around the shire, playing at keeping the peace when they seemed to spend most of the time kicking around whatever unfortunate shire residents they came across. Kurt was having a good time with his character, who played at being lazy and a bit dim despite being anything but.

The mid-day human chess game was always a highlight, with all of the major cast members involved and plenty of swordplay to excite the crowd. The audience took sides and more than a few made sure to sit on the side of the Sheriff’s team and were openly rooting for the bad guys. Kurt had found a few fans of his own, including several members of the Wenches Guild (local 69) who flirted playfully and called out to him. In fact, it seemed like most of the wenches from the Guild chose to sit on their side of the field, ready to cheer on their favorite villains. Both sides lead their fans in cheers, with those rooting for the villains yelling out “Blood makes the grass grow! Kill! Kill! Kill!” Kurt had a lot of fun egging them on now that he had gathered his own group of wench cheerleaders.

Ben was calling the plays for the villains in his role as Sheriff, while Robin Hood directed the heroes. Kurt sprawled lazily on the ground while he waited for his cue, letting the actress playing the wicked Lucrezia Borgia lean flirtatiously against him (partly to keep in character and partly because it took the strain off of her sitting on the ground so long bound in a tight corset). He was letting her press kisses on his neck, cooing in nonsense Italian while he played with her blond curls.

“Beau!” Ben yelled, coming up being Kurt to kick him and get his attention when he didn’t respond fast enough. “Stop fooling around and deal with this outlaw scum!” He grabbed Kurt by his collar and pulled him to his feet before shoving him out onto the dueling field. Awaiting him was gorgeous Adam with his sword drawn.

“So this is who you send to me?” Adam laughed. “I thought I would be fighting a guard and not a pretty, beardless boy.”

Kurt drew his sword and casually advanced on his handsome opponent. “Well, this should be easy,” he drawled.

“For me,” Adam retorted as they began to circle one another. “After all, the only reason you’re here is because your mother begged your uncle to give you a job.”

They launched into their duel, and Kurt was pleased that all his weapons practice was paying off. Adam had several years more experience with his kind of thing, but Kurt was more than holding is own with the complicated choreographed fight. It would certainly look impressive to the audience and it began to look as if the outlaw would win. Kurt followed their choreography and let Adam continue his advance when he drew the dagger that he’d had sheathed on the back of his belt and got it pressed up against Adam’s throat.

“Not such a useless pretty boy now, am I?” Kurt snarled dragging the tip of the blade up Adam’s chin. “You’re finished.”

“Sherriff!” the actress playing the queen shouted. “Have your man stand down! We will have no blood spilled on this field today.”

Kurt gave Adam a cruel grin and pressed the tip of the dagger dangerously against Adam’s jaw before pulling back. He raised his fist in victory to a chorus of boos and cheers from the audience before turning to his place on the sidelines. The actress playing Lucrezia threw herself into his arms, kissing him soundly. It wasn’t much later that the whole game dissolved into a wild melee that would finally be broken up by the Queen, announcing that the battle would be decided at the royal joust at the end of the day.

Kurt picked himself off the ground where Adam had him pinned face down into the grass and followed the other guards off the field. Once out of sight of the audience, he checked the time and calculated that he had just enough time to grab something to eat before he was to join the rest of the guards for another patrol around the shire. Then they had the Trial and Punishment show where they held a mock tribunal and convicted faire attendees of absurd “crimes” before making a mad dash to the jousting field to close out the show.

Grateful for the chance to catch his breath and take a short break, he obtained a ploughman’s lunch from one of the concession stands and got his tankard filled with iced tea. He then made his way to the backstage area behind the jousting stand to eat and cool off. Several other members of the cast were already there and he nodded to his friends before digging into his meal.

“That was a nice bit of swordplay earlier, Kurt,” a voice with a natural British accent that Kurt had become quite familiar with said. “You’re really talented for a first timer.”

He looked up and saw Adam standing over him. Nervously swallowing the mouthful of bread and cheese that he’d just bitten into, he nodded. “Thanks. You nearly caught me with that last parry, though. I almost lost my grip.”

“Nah… you had everything well in hand.” He gestured at the empty space on the bench next to Kurt. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course,” Kurt said, moving his tankard so that the other actor would have plenty of room.

“Thanks. I’ve got about twenty minutes until my next set and if I don’t eat now, I’ll have nothing in my tank for the joust.”

Kurt eyed his choice of meal dubiously. “And a sausage on a stick is going to hold you over?”

Adam grinned and gave Kurt a saucy wink. “Well, I am a man who enjoys his meat,” he quipped, then took a large bite out of the rather phallic looking food item.

Kurt was again reminded that his leggings hid absolutely nothing and tried desperately to keep his mind off of anything inappropriate, but Adam was not making it easy.

Adam looked down at Kurt’s perfectly healthy lunch, then back up to his face. “I would have thought that you were more a meat eater as well.”

Kurt felt his cheeks starting to heat because he was definitely being flirted with. Giving Adam his most winning smile, he nodded. “Oh, I am. But I’m also partial to those frozen bananas that they’re selling. Something hard that I can suck on when things get too hot.”

The older man’s eyes darkened when he saw that Kurt was more than willing to flirt back with him. “Well, that’s a good fact to keep in mind. Because I’ve been trying to figure out a way to talk to you when we’re not rolling on the ground, acting like we’re trying to kill one another.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow flirtatiously. “Well, we could roll on the ground together for other reasons, but this is a family show.”

Adam laughed, taking another bite of his lunch. “Ah yes… ‘family shire’ as we keep being told. But seriously… I would like to have a chance to talk with you when we’re not working. Are you going to the bar tonight after the show?”

“Am I being invited?” Kurt asked teasingly.

Adam licked his lips and nodded. “I am inviting you.”

Kurt was about to agree to join him when he saw Blaine coming into the backstage area carrying an absolutely enormous roasted turkey leg and waving frantically at him.

“Oh crap,” Kurt groaned, wishing that he could crawl under the sod and hide from his ex.

“I’m sorry,” Adam said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Kurt looked up at Adam and saw the distraught expression on the older man’s face. His half-eaten sausage even looked like it was losing its rigidity.

“Oh, it’s not you,” Kurt quickly assured his suitor, trying to control his excitement about Adam being his suitor in the first place. “It’s my ex who has some serious boundary issues.”

Adam looked at the outrageously dressed man coming in their direction and his jaw dropped slightly. “That’s your ex-boyfriend?”

“Ex-fiancé,” Kurt corrected. “Don’t judge… it was a strange period of my life that is over and done with. I just can’t seem to get the message through to him.”

“That’s good to know,” Adam said sympathetically. “Because I was starting to question your taste there for just a second.”

Kurt laughed ruefully and shook his head. “Like I said, it was a weird phase that I’m past.”

“Good,” Adam said agreeably. “I’ll see you after the show tonight.”

“Definitely,” Kurt assured him, trying to contain his excitement over Adam asking him out. He knew that hook ups among the cast were pretty common place, but this felt like it was something more. At least, he hoped it was.

Adam surprised Kurt by taking his hand and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles that left Kurt all but tingling all over. “See you at the joust,” Adam said softly, giving Kurt a playful wink.

Blaine came trotting over, the feather in his cap flopping in his wake and saw the other man walking away. “Kurt, what was that all about?” he demanded, his brows furrowing in anger. “What were you talking about?”

Kurt looked up at his ex-fiancé and grinned widely. “He asked me out tonight after the show. On a date,” he clarified.

Blaine could only stare of him, his face getting as red as his costume. “A date! But Kurt, we’re…” he started, only to be quickly cut off.

“We’re nothing, Blaine,” Kurt snapped. “You just don’t learn, do you? We’re not dating and we’re sure as hell not friends. Not with the way you’ve been hounding me for months!

“Now I have been more than patient, but enough is enough. We may have to work together this summer, but you do not get a say in anything that I do. Is that understood?”

Blaine seemed shocked by the level of anger directed at him. “What is the matter with you?” he demanded, growing angry himself.

Blaine didn’t seem to care that all their dirty laundry that was about to be revealed to their cast mates, and for once, Kurt didn’t care. Blaine was about to get an earful and what their coworkers were going to learn wouldn’t make him look especially well.

“What is the matter with me? How about me being sick and tired of my cheating ex inserting himself into everything that I do? We’re not together anymore and I find it amazing that you spend a lot more time around me now than you did when we were actually a couple,” Kurt informed him sharply. “What’s the matter? You can’t find someone else to fuck? Because you never seemed to have that problem when we were together.”

“Kurt, it was one time…” Blaine started, but withered under Kurt’s harsh glare.

“One time that you admitted to,” Kurt agreed. “But do you think I’m stupid, Blaine? Do you think that I didn’t notice the odd phone calls or your sudden trip to the free clinic after we both tested clean? Why do you think I ended things with you? Because you are completely incapable of keeping your dick in your pants!”

Blaine’s face flushed nearly as red as his costume when he heart the muffled laughter of the other cast members that had heard Kurt’s rant. One of the wench singers seemed especially amused and began to trill, “A wandering penis I, a thing of thread and patches…”

Kurt knew at that instant that Blaine’s faire reputation had just been cemented and that he’d never escape the label of being an untrustworthy cheater by his own admission. He would have felt sorry had Blaine not made himself such an utter pain.

Utterly humiliated now that he had admitted in front of their cast mates that he had cheated on Kurt, Blaine stormed away, the ridiculous plume on his hat limp and betraying his embarrassment. Kurt huffed, glad that he might have finally gotten that things between them were over through Blaine’s thick, gel covered skull. And it felt refreshing to have admiring and sympathetic looks coming from their fellow actors were admiring and supportive towards him, rather than accusatory.

In the meantime… he had a show to focus on and a date in the evening to look forward to.

[cindersthoughts]

Tom Holland x Medical Student (Part 2)

I hope you enjoyed the first part. Here is part 2 ;). Tell me your thoughts. plus, I’m sorry for the stupid mistakes. I always see them after I post the story. ^^

Part 1

Part 2

 After Tom left time flew. Soon I was leaving the hospital through the same doors that Tom exited the building. My mind keeps going back to our goodbyes that we shared a few hours ago. The drive home was the usual. Entering my apartment, I threw my jacket and bag on the couch and went to the kitchen. It was 8 p.m. I still need to eat something and get ready for my friend’s party. I wanted to text my friend for the address of the club or bar that we are going. However, I find myself on google searching for something I might regret afterwards. Tom Holland is written on the search bar. I bite my lip, I really want to look him up, but I don’t want to at the same time. Before I can think it over again I press on the search button. I heart is racing, I feel like a teenager that is hiding some nasty secret of her parents, I am officially going insane. Soon pictures of those familiar brown eyes pop on my phone’s screen. My heart melting away. The google page revealing the latest news of the actor’s life.

Tom Holland injured

Spiderman rushed into the ER

 There were some very dramatic statements of some journals telling that Tom had a near death experience. I laughed a little. Then I scroll and see his twitter.

 Tom Holland

I am alright guys, just got some stitches ;) thanks for worrying though

3h ago

 Tom Holland

[Posts pic of him and Harrison]

I wanted to be the first to congratulate my mate for his newest role in Spiderman 2. You are going to be a great Harry. ;) we got to celebrate that, see you later.

1h ago

 Y/N you need to stop stalking this dude. I put my phone away, closing my eyes I exhale in frustration. Wait, why was I on my phone? As I remember my friend texts me and giving me the address of the club. I put the address into google maps, my eyes widen when I realize where we are going tonight. I dial the number of my friend.

“What’s up, Y/N?”

“Did you send me the right address?” “umm, yeah. Why would I send you the wrong address, duhh?”

“That club is really expensive and celebrities attend that place all the time, how were you able to get reservations in such an exclusive place?!”

“I have my contacts, darling. good thing that you’ve heard of that place. You need to wear something really nice tonight” she uses her ‘oh so very seductive voice’ to mock me and laughs afterwards

“haha, yeah. Let’s see what I’ll wear. See ya later.”

 I open my closet and stare at my wardrobe. “Yeah, well shit…” I don’t have anything that is like really fancy. Suddenly, I remember that I do have a black dress from two or three years ago. I put it on and take a look at myself, it does still fit maybe it’s a little shorter now, but nothing too tragic. My makeup is pretty simple nothing too extravagant, since I’m not really in the mood to go out tonight. Putting my heels on, I call a cab that takes me to the club. I absolutely loathed entering a club alone, it’s a socially very awkward moment in my opinion. At the entrance there were two lines one that was endlessly long and another one that was pretty short because it was for private guests. My friends were already inside it was already 11 p.m. if I had to go to the end of the endless line I’d never get in. My phone starts ringing.

 “Hey”

 “Y/N where are you?!” I hear my friend shouting from the other end of the line. Loud music in the background

 “I’m here outside of the club, but there is an endless line, I’m never going to get in.” I confess to her. Getting ready for nothing, yay. Who doesn’t love that.

 “What if you try to enter through the other entrance, you know the line for the VIPs.”

 “I-I don’t know… What if I get in trouble…?” I reply chewing my nail, terrible habit of mine. I pace around near the entrance.

 “C’mon don’t be such a chicken” she was very persistent.

 “If I get in jail or end up somewhere you come and find me, though!”

 she laughs, “you are so dramatic, just try. I’m going towards the entrance to help you out with the security guys”

 “or I could get you in. I mean you helped me out today and I got to return the favour, right. What do you say about that doctor?”, a familiar voice says from behind me interrupting my phone call. My heart stops for a second. No way. I turn around slowly revealing Tom Holland in a suit. Oh hell no this should be forbidden. My mouth drops open in disbelief.

 “Tom”, I gasped, “w-what are you doing here?”

 his grin is merciless and I hate him for that. He is making me all nervous. And when Y/N gets nervous she starts talking like a waterfall.

 “Well, my friend and I are celebrating tonight. He landed a role in a very important movie.”

 “Oh so that’s what you meant by ‘see you later’. He got the part in the next Spiderman mov-“ OH SHIT. Before I could think of what I was saying it was far too late. I just basically told him that I’ve been stalking him. My cheeks turn red and I start stuttering. He first gave me a weird look, but it soon turned into one of those smirks that says ‘so you were thinking about me’. I want to disappear right now.

 All of a sudden there were the paparazzi around the corner, shouting and screaming for Tom.

 “Umm, so do you mind if we get inside?” he says looking at the paparazzi giving them a tight smile. He puts a hand on my lower back to lead me inside.

 Inside the music was blasting. I walk in front of Tom, right after the entrance I see my friend. Waving and calling her name she comes towards me. She looks at me, but the closer we get she gets her eyes on Tom. And honestly, I do not like how she’s looking at him.

 “Y/N! you made it! I was right about to get you!” she explains in a very exaggerated manner. She was talking more to Tom than to me, but okay.

 “Yeah, Umm, Y/F/N this is Tom. He helped me out.” I reply awkwardly making a weird hand gesture. “Tom this is my friend, Y/F/N”

 “Y/N you didn’t tell me you knew Spiderman himself. How did you meet him?” Y/F/N continues flirting

 “I-I actu-“ I try to explain and get interrupted by Mr. Tom Holland himself. I look over at him annoyed now.

 “Actually,…”, he came closer and put a hand on my waist, I was all hot again, what the hell is he trying to do, “we met a while back and Y/N and I had to keep this whole thing a secret. You know privacy and media don’t get along well.”, he lied as if it was the most natural thing ever.

 “Wait, ARE YOU GUYS LIKE TOGETHER?” my friend scoffed in disbelief. Geez, thanks? But I’m startled too. I mean I know guys don’t usually want to date me and that I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, but her reaction did kind of hurt a little. Nevertheless, I was shocked and it was one of those moments where, if I had a drink and I’d be drinking it I’d be spitting it out right now.

 I laugh hysterically. “Yeah, no, no…” I tell her shaking my head.

 “Well, no, we are not a couple, but we are dating or starting at least”, he admitted. What a big fat liar!

 “Y/F/N can you hold that thought for a second. I need to talk with my almost boyfriend slash superhero.” I take Tom’s hand and head to a part that is more private. Fury the only thing that keeps me going right now.

 “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?”, I shout at him.

 “I thought it’d be fun to see your reaction.”, he confessed with a grin, “I’m sorry I put you through that”

 “I can see it in your eyes. Mr. ‘I’m so sorry’, you aren’t sorry at all.”

 “Touché, your friend was flirting way too obvious and I thought it would be amusing to see her all shocked that we’d be a thing. Plus, what kind of friend hits on someone else’s guy.” he laughs and his laughter is contagious because in that moment I realize how silly this is.

 “Don’t tell me that you weren’t a little annoyed by how obvious she was trying to get into my pants.”, there was a challenge in his voice. The ‘laughing’ mood was turning into something more serious. I look away my cheeks turning a deep red.

 “i-I guess it did bother me a little…” I shrug and he smiles in satisfaction.

 “So, Y/N. Do you want to go back to your friend? And if you want to tell her the truth I’ll tell her that I was trying to prank her. No worries.”

“No, w-wait don’t tell her. Let’s keep it our little secret for tonight. I’ll tell her tomorrow morning that it was all a joke”, I admit biting my lower lip giving him a weak smile.

 “okay, as you wish doc.” He smiles at me giving me a wink. “let’s head back” he offers me his arm that I take gladly.

 The rest of the night was really fun. I danced with Tom and we had a drink together. His friend Harrison was a total sweetheart and we all had a blast. The next morning, I was woken up by the sunlight entering my room. I rub my eyes. What time is it? I get up and have a breakfast. Today I had to get some stuff done since it was my free day. I put some comfortable jeans and a t-shirt on. it was a sunny day and I can finally wear my new my sun glasses. I was about to close the door of my building, when I hear people running and shouting my name.

 “What the heck?!”, I look at the mob running towards me.

 “Y/N! Y/N! Y/N! look at the camera!”, a voice shouted. Flashes were blinding me, thankfully I had my sun glasses on.

 “Y/N, how was your date-night with Tom yesterday?”

 “Since when are you two guys dating?”

 “Y/N what do you think of Tom’s upcoming movie!?”

 The paparazzi were calling my name from all sides. Overwhelmed by the entire situation I began to run for my life. What the hell is going on here. How do they know me and where I live?