withflourmoved - Tumblr blog

[withflourmoved]

MOVING BLOGS:

hello everyone !  I know I haven’t been very active here, but in order to increase activity, i’ll be moving my marya, dolokhov, and jenna hunterson blogs to MAIN blogs instead of sideblogs.  if this ups my activity, i’ll add other blogs as well !  hope to see you all there !  ( i’ll be keeping the same URLs  )

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Jessie Mueller performs with the New York Pops at Carnegie Hall [April 21, 2017]

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STRANGER.

           she gave the woman a genuine smile && a nod , her voice soft spoken.

            ‘ well , it’s beautiful. it seems that you put a lot of thought behind it. ‘

         the  pie  sits  before  them,  and  jenna  is  reluctant  to  cut  into  it.  she  skirts  the  edge  with  a  knife,  tapping  at  the  crust.

       ❝   i  certainly  try  to  !    speakin’  of  tryin’  and  such,  you  want  a  piece  ?   this  is  a,  uh,  new  recipe,  so  i  dunno  what  people  are  gonna  think.  ❞

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THE ROCK.

              ❛     maybe not so much in the RING,   kinda depends on who i’m up against.   some guys’ll make ya feel like you’re less than nothin’.   but y’know,  i’m a pretty SHY guy myself, jen.     believe it or not.     ❜

           ❝   you  ?   shy  ?   i  mean,  i  knew  y’  were  sweet,  but  i  didn’t  ever  pin  y’  as  shy  !   -  that  ain’t  a  BAD  THING,  though,  i’m  a  bit  shy  myself.   or,  maybe  more  closed  off   ❞

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❛ you create a rarity of my genuine smiles. ❜ aLSO withflour bc im cr yign in the club

dodie clark sentence starters.          /          accepting.

@withflour

     the only time dewey will ever be caught feeling openly self-conscious, will be when he’s premiering unfinished material.    for every finished piece dewey’s completed, he takes pride in all of his work, in his talents.  he has a natural talent for songwriting, and a special charisma that makes him an excellent performer.  and he knows this.        but there’s a special nerve-wracking thrill to opening up and showing his own vulnerability in unfinished work.   when he’s done, he’s polished everything, and he can show his confidence.    when left unedited, there are hiccups, there are finger slips and sour chords and stumbled over, mumbled through words.   there’s improvisation that may or may not flow naturally, and that will likely not be remembered when time comes to edit it back in.      dewey always found it easier to TALK through his unfinished songs,  like he had with his kids before battle of the bands,  or whenever he had ideas, working with erika and penny.  he’ll stick to strumming out a rhythm and tune on his own.  

Keep reading

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im smol and ready 2 brawl

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hello all  !   it has certainly been awhile, but i’m officially back, so like this for a   VARYING STARTER  !     (  i’ll get to them tomorrow,  i’m doing some drafts tonight !  )

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                                               ❝ et tu, jenna? ❞

                                     marlin finnley & jenna hunterson                                                              just bc // @withflour

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when you finish one (1) reply

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KITTY’S  BLOGROLL  !

JENNA  HUNTERSON:  you are here !  (  from broadway’s  waitress.  active.  )

MARYA DMITRIEVNA: @grandsdame !  (  from broadway’s  great comet.  active.  )

FEDYA DOLOKHOV: @shotfierce !  (  from broadway’s  great comet.  active.  )

EVAN HANSEN:  @wordfailed !  (  from broadway’s  dear evan hansen.  semi-active.  )

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everything changes.

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STALLION.

               ❛     an’ who’s saying you gotta BE any more than you already are?  you’re ENOUGH as is.     ❜

      ❝   ah,  really,  ‘m  not  much.  ‘s  nice  of  you  to  say,  rock,  it  really  is  !   i  just,  uh,  feel  real  small  a  lotta  the  time.  betcha  you  don’t  get  that  in  the  ring,  huh  ?   ❞

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GUYS  @ofhalfway  IS  SO  CUTE  I  ALMOST  DIED

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reminder  that  if  you’re  following  DOLOKHOV,  definitely  follow  MARYA  !

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ANNOUNCING  FEDYA  DOLOKHOV!      he  dominates  moscow’s  most  brilliant  young  men.  he  stands  in  full  view,  well  aware  he’s  attracting  attention,  yet  as  much  as  ease  as  though  he  were  in  his  own  room.   /   ind.  fyodor  dolokhov.  great  comet  based  with  war  and  peace  influences.  written  by  kitty.

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ASSHOLE.

     once upon a time, dewey had respect for wait staff.   less than ten years ago he was in the same position as they were,  bussing tables, trying to make his half of the rent -  it was a short-lived job for dewey, before he moved onto another short-term “career”.    he understands there’s absolutely nothing significant about this shithole of a town, but he curses himself, his band, his manager, and most of all, this fucking TOWN,  that he keeps being drawn(? dragged, more accurately.)  back to this little “quirky” trying-too-hard diner, smack dab in the middle of nowhere. 

     it’s got that cute little novelty to it ;   it’s small, and the uniforms on the waitresses are adorable, and every patron looks like they’re regulars.  he’d stumbled in there early in the morning,  and immediately he knew that what little charm he’d found in the cliche color scheme and southern caricatured people in there would wear off in a matter of hours, if not minutes.  let alone DAYS of this.   how the HELL do these people live with themselves?

     he’s not certain if he voiced these opinions.   probably, he figures, but dewey has NEVER been anything even remotely near a morning person.  he barely remembers waking up that morning,  past a half-listened to wake-up call, one that he really could’ve been more POLITE answering.   and truthfully, he only vaguely remembers stopping in the little pie shop  ( pie shop? diner? make up your fuckin’ mind, lulu. )   for “breakfast” that morning.

     he does remember commenting on the PISS-POOR quality of the coffee  -  could you even CALL IT coffee?  sludge, he thinks he’d compared it to  -  to one of the waitresses.  the blonde one,  with the frizzed out hair and big tits.   she was the one who got to hear the entire near meltdown he’d had when the ENTIRE DINER had been alerted about the impending DOOM  uh.  storm, they were due to experience within the hour.  all the roads would be closed at least for the time being.   that was what,  four hours ago?

           ❛    all the fuckin’ roads are FROZEN OVER!     ❜

     well, he certainly knows how to make an entrance, huh?    never particularly been one for indoor voices, but in a town as small as this, he figures his voice alone probably rattles the god damn foundation of the whole center.  he’s wrapped up tightly in his coat, and the scarf around his neck is tangled up, a mess of yarn and rockstar.  his hair is soaked with quickly melting snow, while his shoulders are still dusted with ice, and his sneakers soaked all the way through.  feeling fucking miserable,  and now, guess he’s out to make everyone else suffer just as bad as he is. 

         she  has  had  her  fair  share  of   DICKISH   men  sitting  in  her  section,  parading  into  her  diner  like  they  own  the  damn  place.   one  thing  that  jenna  can  thank  earl  for,  aside  from  lulu,  is  how  he  had  almost  desensitized  her  to  every   LOUD  -  MOUTHED   jackass  on  the  planet.  still,  this  man  irks  her  beyond  belief,  and  she  can’t  quite  pinpoint  why.   maybe  it’s  his   i’m  all  that  and  a  bag  of  chips    mindset,  or  the  way  he  grimaces  when  she  gives  him  his  coffee.  above  all,  it  may  be  the  way  he  makes  it  undeniably  clear  that  he  is  too  good  for  tumbleweed  stillwater,  oklahoma.

         the  moment  he  leaves,  she’s  in  dire  need  of  a   NAP   (  or  some  wine  -  she  isn’t  picky.  )   and  a  week  long  vacation.   as  dawn  turns  up  the  radio,  jenna  realizes  her  prayers  may  be  answered.   SNOW  DAY   is  not  a  term  you  hear  in  stillwater  very  often.   the  kids  don’t  sit  up  at  night  hoping  the  roads  freeze  over  so  school  buses  can’t  pass  through,  and  the  adults  don’t  worry  about  the possibility  that  they’ll  have  to  shovel  their  driveways  come  morning.   this  is  exactly  why  the  entirety  of  the  diner  screeches  when  the  impending  blizzard  is  announced,  cal  almost  dropping  his  skillet  onto  the  kitchen  floor.

        just  as  predicted,  there  is  already  a  steady  snowfall  as  seen  through  the  windows  of  the  diner.   shoes  squeak  on  the  checkered  floor  as  people  flood  in  for  warmth,  all  chattering  on  a  spectrum  of  excitement  to  nerves.  jenna  picks  up  little  lulu,  joining  in  her  celebration.   they  didn’t  have  a  white  christmas,  but  they  could  definitely  settle  for  a  white   GROUNDHOG  DAY.   poor  punx’s  job  was  rather  predictable  by  now.

        the  diner  -  wide  party  is  short  lived,  coming  to  an  abrupt  halt  as  the  door  is  thrown  open  again,  a  rush  of  cold  hair  flowing  in.   and  there  he  is,   PRINCE  CHARMING   galloping  back  in  with  his  noble  steed  and  stringy  scarf.   each  customer  stares,  all  talking  among  themselves  as  jenna  hands  lulu  off  to  an  already  -  steamed  becky.   in  a  moment  of  truth,  she  grabs  the  coffee  pot  from  its  place,  smirking  as  she  goes.  with  a  few  auburn  flyaways  brushed  behind  her  ear,  she  approaches  him,  lips  pursed  as  he  complains.   it’s  almost  as  if  his  tantrum   AMUSES   her.    

      ❝    hey,  thanks  for    CHECKIN’,   hon.   that’s  usually  what  happens  when  a  blizzard  hits.  can  i  interest  you  in  more   COFFEE  ?  ❞

      he’s  short,  but  she’s  shorter,  and  that  still  isn’t  enough  to  stop  the  waitress  from  acting  a  bit  snarky.  gazing  up  at  him,  a  hand  on  her  hip,  she  swirls  the   SLUDGE   in  its  pot  as  it  is  offered  to  him.   southern  drawl  makes  her  sound  all  the  more  sarcastic,   her  little  confidence  being  thrust  forward  as  if  shes  trying  to  make  her  act   BELIEVABLE.   still,  they  are  a  spectacle,  and  each  diner  patron  is  eagerly  sipping  their  tea.   jenna’s  reputation  is  one  of  kindness.  she  isn’t  exactly  meek,  but  you  could  say  that  this  out  of  town  rockstar  brings  out  the  beast  in  her.  

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WELL  —  i don’t go to parties a lot.   not good use of the time that i’ve got.  can’t spend hours doing my hair and staying in shape.   but i know it’ll all be worthwhile, when i win my first lucrative trial, and buy my mom that great big house out on the cape!     that’s the CHIP ON MY SHOULDER,  i hugged my mom and told her,  ‘with the chance i’ve been given, i’m gonna be DRIVEN AS HELL!’    though i can’t take the day off, i just think of the payoff.   you need a CHIP ON YOUR SHOULDER!