#I may or may not be watching moulin rouge

[bobafetts-princess]

If I had two nickels for each time an Ewan McGregor character fell in love with a woman named Satine I’d only have two nickels.

Which isn’t a lot.

But it’s weird that it happened twice

[elephantlovemedleys]

thinking about the certain pattern i have with pairings i've been obsessed with over the more recent years

[ibrokeeverything]

Completely unoriginal take, but the moulin rouge soundtrack goes SO HARD

[destiel-wings]

241. satine | MOULIN ROUGE

[formulawolff]

el tango de roxanne - t.w.

pairing: figure skater!reader x toto wolff

word count: 2.8k

warnings: cursing, angst, (slight) age gap relationships, (slight) casual friends to lovers arc, allusions to smut, toto being a jealous fuck, yadayadayada

song inspo: el tango de roxanne by ewan mcgregor, jacek koman, and josé feliciano (if you couldn’t tell by the title hehe)

a/n: if you haven’t watched tessa virtue & scott moir’s iconic moulin rouge routine… where have you been? anyways. this fic was inspired by a request & this routine! i highly recommend watching it hehe. also idc if 2024 is summer olympics… this is my au! let me be!

he couldn’t bear it.

not for one more second.

yet, he couldn’t muster the strength to look away. to avert his gaze from what was unfolding on the ice below, as you glided so beautifully across, your partner in tow.

fuck, you were so breathtaking in this moment.

the way your hair was pulled so neatly into an intricate bun, your features enhanced by makeup. the way your eyes shine as you face your partner, several feet separating the two of you. the way your ensemble sparkled under the intense lighting, the skirt fluttering ever so slightly.

this is where you shone.

like a star in the night, bursting to the brim with nothing but pure, bright light.

while he may excel in the paddock, the rink was your element. where you truly belonged. where you were as cool as the ice, calm and collected as the dramatic flair of the strings amplified your movements, the audience roaring in response.

as you move, it’s magnetizing, the austrian shifting in his seat as your partner wraps you up in his embrace, holding you tightly as the two of you sail across the ice.

his jaw clenches as he notices the way your partner’s hand grasp the exposed skin of your back and shoulders, the routine almost executed perfectly as the music continues.

fuck, how he absolutely despised the way your bodies molded together. the way he held you, lifting you into the air, or onto his thighs, keeping you in close proximity.

of course, he has to remind himself that this is strictly professional. that there is nothing romantic going on between you and your partner, jack probst.

well, not like he could really be upset either.

there was nothing going on between the two of you.

at least, that’s what toto wolff thought.

the two of you met at a cocktail party for the launch of the 2022 formula one season, at the mercedes headquarters in brackley. although you were quite new to the world of racing, you were a plus one, as your best friend invited you to tag along with her. since she was part of the marketing team for mercedes, she had an in.

although you were terrified beyond belief of the idea of mingling with engineers, investors, and well, the drivers, you had reluctantly agreed to come with. as a prominent figure in the realm of ice skating, you were aware that you at least had one thing in common with the racing world.

in order to be successful, every little aspect of the routine had to be executed flawlessly.

just like the engineers and mechanics had to prep the car in order to race, you had to ensure that you had the right skates.

just like how the pit crew had to time their stops perfectly without fail, you had to maintain rhythm with the music, so that the routine would flow.

additionally, you were very similar to the drivers.

you yearned to step foot on that podium, no matter the cost.

at that party, you happened to run into the team principal and ceo of mercedes, mr. torger wolff. the two of you struck up a conversation, the team principal complimenting your career, as well as your dress.

although your best friend thought he was flirting, you had brushed it off, stating that he was just being polite.

however, toto wolff was not being polite.

he wanted you, oh so desperately.

and he was patient. he was going to wait until you were ready.

even if watching your routine with jack absolutely tugged and squeezed at his aching heart.

even if every fiber of his being screamed at him to look away before that jealousy burned through, the flames licking at every part of his being.

there was no denying you had effortless chemistry with jack, as the media speculated the two of you had been an item for years.

however, what toto did not know was that you were in a similar predicament.

after that fateful night in brackley, the team principal reached out to you via email. you wondered how he even got his hands on your email address, but your best friend gave that away with little to almost no interrogation.

allegedly, toto was interested if you, completely allured and entranced by your presence. so, he approached your best friend, inquiring about your contact information. not wanting to give him your number right away, she simply provided him with your email instead, urging him to “slide into those dms.”

so, he did. the two of you hit it off immediately, emailing one another constantly. after a couple of days, he mustered up the courage to ask you politely for your number. with no hesitation, you gave it to him.

from that moment on, a friendship blossomed between the two of you. although he was a bit older, he had this charm that pulled drew you in, wanting to learn more and more about him. also, formula one intrigued you, as you wanted to learn more about the sport.

he showed you the ins and outs of racing, while you educated him on the graces and virtues of skating. a few months into your friendship, he invited you to a grand prix, offering an all-exclusive ticket for the weekend. all you had to do was say the word and it was yours.

however, there was only one thing holding you back.

if you went, you would miss a week or so of practice. which, wouldn’t go over well with jack. especially during the initial stages of the season.

and even more so, with the olympics quickly approaching, you would feel guilty missing so much time.

so, you ended up passing on his offer.

which, hurt his pride just a tad, but not enough to deter him from his end goal.

he was going to have you.

one day.

he just wasn’t sure when.

eventually, you accepted one of his many offers to attend a grand prix. settling on the 2023 monaco grand prix, where dutch driver max verstappen claimed victory.

somehow, someway, the two of you ended up in bed together that night.

you weren’t quite sure how, and neither was he, but you mutually agreed to never speak on it again.

no matter how much it was on your mind.

which, was almost every second of every single day.

on his end, it was nearly detrimental, consuming his every waking thought whole.

to make matters worse, that night in monaco awoke something that you had been trying to keep hidden for months.

you were hopelessly and utterly in love with the team principal.

even if he was twenty-five years older than you. even if his schedule was jam-packed with meetings every minute of every hour of every day. even if he could only call you every so often. even if he was a single father, recently divorced after nearly a decade of marriage. even if there was something unspoken between the two of you, the tension blanketing over like a thick haze.

what toto could never know was that you pictured him right there with you, gliding along the ice, his hands roaming your body. you could almost feel him murmuring in your ear how beautiful you were like this, blissfully lost in the music.

no matter the circumstance. no matter the soreness lingering in your muscles or the sheer terror of falling or missing a beat, that thought alone is what got you though the routine.

it never failed.

and tonight, it was not going to fail you.

despite the stakes at hand, you were a natural at this, showing no signs of fear as the final notes rang in your ears.

this was it.

the end of the routine, jack dipping your body as your head rolls back, dramatically falling.

there’s a beat of silence, before the entire arena explodes.

the sound of thunderous applause fills your ears, jack pulling you in for a tight embrace, clutching you against his chest. sobs rack your body, your shoulders shaking as the realization washes over you.

you guys did it.

you had performed with minimal errors. no major mistakes or noteworthy point deductions.

a flawless routine.

the endless hours put in memorizing the movements, the sleepless nights at the rink, the doubt that you could pull this off, were washed away, slipping from your memory as joy bubbles up within your chest.

“representing their home country, jack probst and ____ _____!”

the boom from the announcer drowns in your ears, jack saying words you can’t quite decipher. you feel his hand in yours, but you’re not here.

you’re somewhere else, somewhere far from the packed arena.

you’re dreaming of his expression right in this moment. how his thick brows are probably furrowed together, his tongue swiping along as his lower lip, knee bouncing ever so slightly. his fluffy brunette locks are probably a ruffled mess, as he probably had ran a hand through it a few times, anxiously awaiting for a glimpse of you before your routine.

jack rips open the foam padding to the rink, where you’re greeted by your coaches. they engulf you in their arms, shouting praises over the hum of the crowd.

meanwhile, toto wolff sits in the stands, hands on his knees as he anticipates the final verdict. his knuckles are nearly white as the denim bunches under his fingertips, his knee bouncing slightly as clips of the routine. replay across the ginormous screens all across the arena.

he's surrounded by you.

your stunning figure as it gracefully flows with the music, every movement absolutely exquisite. your breathtaking smile the moment you're finished, eyes shining like the stars as jack envelops you in his arms.

a pang of envy rises in his chest, yet he swiftly suppresses it.

this moment was not about his jealousy towards your skate partner. he shouldn't be feeling this way.

this moment was about you.

an olympic medal on the line, the future of your skating career at stake.

"the scores please," the announcer booms, blood roaring in toto's ears as he straightens in his seat, leaning forward, eyes scanning the rink.

it does not take him even a second.

you're sitting next to jack, your coaches on either side. although he was a distance away, he could sense your nerves, as your smile was tight-lipped, your hand shaky as it blows a kiss to the camera.

"_____ _____ and jack probst have earned in the free dance 122.60 points, bringing their total to 206.27 points. they are currently in first place!"

the crowd erupts into applause, jeering and screaming throughout the stands. your heart skips a beat as jack springs up, slamming the padding before wrapping you up in his arms against you once more, nearly knocking the wind out of your lungs.

he lifts you, his voice shaky with the promise of tears, "we did it! we fucking did it!"

"i can't believe it," you nuzzle into the crook in his neck, "i can't fucking believe it."

the rest of the night is a blur.

as the two of you stood on that podium, gold medals dangling from your neck as your national anthem played, you couldn't help but shake this aching feeling.

you yearned for him.

you longed to feel his strong arms around you, squeezing you against his chest as his husky voice flooded your ears, brimmed with his accent. to feel his hands glide along your body, their warmth sending shivers down your spine.

there were lengthy interviews, each one nearly draining your remaining energy with each journalist or media outlet. you didn't mind, as you basked in the afterglow of your gold medal win, a grin plastered to your face all evening.

before you knew it, you were in an uber, on your way to a new destination.

toto wolff's hotel room, a luxurious suite in the heart of the city. although every muscle in your body stung, exhausted from the events of the day, your mind is wide awake, buzzing from a torrent of thoughts swirling in your brain.

what would be the first thing that fell from those lips? would he embrace you first? what was he thinking in that moment when you won gold?

as you enter the elevator, punching the correct floor, your heart races, thumping against your rib-cage.

sure, competing in the olympics was nerve-wracking.

but facing the man you were helplessly in love with?

that was enough to make your knees buckle, your body swaying back and forth as the elevator ascended, palms clammy as you wiped them against your sweatpants.

surely he wouldn't mind that you were in sweats.

a shrill ding! rings in your ears, announcing your arrival. sucking in a shaky breath, you turn right, making your way down the hall. his room was not difficult to locate, as it was one of the first ones.

bringing your knuckles to the door, you knock, blood roaring in your ears.

he opens it almost immediately.

"hey," you beam, "i hope i wasn't too-"

lips collide with yours, his hands meeting with your waist, pulling you closer in to him. you melt under his touch, nearly crumpling to the floor as a shiver jolts down your spine. the kiss is fiery yet tender, as if lovers were reuniting after months of separation. it's a kiss of longing and love, bursting with passion.

yet, he pulls away, allowing you to catch your breath. there's a dusty pink hue tinging his cheeks, his chest heaving as he pants slightly.

"i'm sorry. i shouldn't have-"

"don't even," you shake your head, wrapping your arms around his neck, "come here."

he doesn't hesitate, his mouth molding with yours once more as he brings you in the room, nearly slamming the door shut. this time, the kiss is brimmed with lust, an insatiable desire burning deep within the austrian as a whine rises in your throat.

his tongue glides along your lower lip, your head tilting back to grant him access. his hold on your is nearly unbreakable, as if he never wanted to let you go ever again.

your hands roam, inching up the base of his neck, tugging on the roots of his messy brunette locks. there's a rumble in his chest as he guides you to the bed, your back meeting the mattress.

however, he breaks away once more, eyes locking with yours.

"do you have any idea how long i've waited to do that?"

"you didn't have to wait until i won a gold medal," a giggle bubbles up in your throat, fingers sweeping a strand of away from his temple, "hell, maybe if you did that sooner, i would have earned more points."

an airy chuckle fills the space, his lips curving into a radiant grin, "congratulations, little star. there's no one who deserved that win more than you."

"toto," you murmur, his eyes softening at the way his name drips from your sweet lips, "can i tell you something?"

"of course schatzi," his hand cups your face, thumb caressing along your cheekbone, "what is it?"

"i sort of have a method to my skating," you can't help but shrink a little as the embarrassment begins to wash over you, "it helps me focus."

"and that is?" his brows knit furrow.

"instead of jack skating with me, i picture you."

at those words, the austrian nearly collapses.

"you do?"

"i do," you nod, "lately, it's been the only way i can follow a routine without mistakes. it helps me get lost in the rhythm, the flow of the music as it guides us. um, well, as it guides me."

"oh my beautiful girl," toto's mind reels, his heart swelling, "you're always on my mind. lately i can't focus in my meetings or at the paddock or in my office. you consume me."

you consume me.

bliss ripples in your heart as you lean in, the tip of your nose brushing against his, "toto wolff, i'm in love with you. i can't hide it anymore. i can't deny it. i love you."

toto blinks, ensuring that this was no dream. that you were really here beneath him, in his bed at his hotel room. surely this wasn't heaven. surely this wasn't some sort of delusion or mirage.

yet, you were here, nothing but pure adoration swimming in the depths of your warm gaze, your lashes fluttering as his mouth ghosts over yours.

"and i'm in love with you, schatzi. what do you say? should we try to make something work?"

"i think we could make something work," the words are merely a whisper, "actually, scratch that. we're going to make something work."

"that's my little olympian. are you ready for sleep or can i show you just how much i love you?"

[angeliicheartt]

🐬 "ᴘᴜʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀᴛ!" — send a dialogue prompt and a character and i'll write a blurb!

actually so down bad for this idea but "it's him or me" WITH TENYAYAYAAAAAAAH might be a bit 🤏🏻 ooc prompt for him but I'm in desperate need of a jealous iida in my life 🙏🏼

"ʜɪᴍ ᴏʀ ᴍᴇ."

includes: tenya iida

fem!reader

a/n: ooc!tenya, monoma is reader's friend from childhood cuz i need an "other man" ermermerm tenya is kind of in the process of courting reader? he insisted. tenya is kinda 😬 in this, pls listen to "el tango de roxanne" from the moulin rouge soundtrack i think it fits! tenya looks so fine in the pic below

it really hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal to you. 

so what if you were close with neito? the two of you had been friends since preschool. although, he proved to be a challenge to the poor boy attempting to court you, tenya.

your chest ached with worry as you stood only a few feet away from the fuming boy, the two of you gathered outside the dormitory building, the gleam from the streetlamps and the moon being the only sources of light. his uncharacteristically dark eyes boring into you, making you uneasy. his arms crossed over his chest as the two of you stood off. you stood clueless as to why tenya was mad. 

“what's got you so upset?” you try, your voice only slightly above a whisper. your feet shuffle around as you stalk closer to tenya, wanting to try and comfort him. His eyebrows furrow at you before relaxing again as he lets out a heavy sigh.

“i suppose it is rather unfair if i do not tell you what’s upset me.” he remarks, his arms unraveling to rest at his sides. you rest your weight on one leg, your hands clasping together behind you as you wait patiently for the navy-haired boy to explain. he pushes up his glasses before running a hand through his dark hair, the sight pleasing if not for the tension that filled the space between you two.

“you’re around monoma from class B a lot, y/n, it makes me feel discomfited.” he states, his eyes locked on you as your eyebrows furrow slightly. your shoulders tense as you hear tenya’s words. you thought he’d understand.

“he’s like a brother to me, tenya.” you say, your voice interlaced with disbelief. “you know that, i’ve told you that numerous times.”

“it doesn’t make me feel any different, y/n. you still fawn over him like he’s your partner,” he chastised, his volume raising the longer he talks. “you don’t do that with me.”

you scoff as your eyebrows furrowed once more, your cheeks getting hot the more worked up you get. your own arms move to rest on your hips, your jaw stiff with tension.

“last i checked, you have yet to formally ask me to be your partner, tenya, so don’t think you have the right to be mad at me for not treating you as such. i thought i would scare you away if i latched onto you so early. you wanted to take things slow, i was only respecting that.” you spat, meaner than you may have meant. you watched as tenya’s shoulders dropped, his posture hunching before straightening again, his eyes dark with vexation.

“we cannot move forward in our relationship if you are always with another man, y/n!” he hissed, his dark eyes locked on you. 

“i say hello to him! i talk to him, tenya. just like every other man i interact with! he’s my friend, nothing more!” you maintained, your voice rising in tandem with tenya’s. your chest heaved with emotion, you thought tenya was different from this.

“you're closer with him than anyone else! what am i supposed to think?” he berates, his anger not dissipating in the slightest. his hand runs through his hair once again, but you don’t even process the motion, your hand reaching up to rub your forehead, an attempt to soothe your growing headache. 

“we’ve known each other since we were five, iida! of course we’re close, i grew up with him!” you worry about your volume but the thought gets pushed to your subconscious. “you can’t just ask me to lose my whole relationship with him!”

you see tenya’s eyebrow twitch at your use of his last name, your heart ringing guilty before you steel yourself again. “i won’t stop being friends with him for anyone.”

“it’s him or me, y/n.” he stated, his words rushing ice through your veins. your lips part as you aim a glare at the boy before you. you close your mouth, your lip curling slightly as you seethe from your spot only a couple feet away from tenya.

tenya already felt the guilt and regret seeping into his stomach, the ultimatum he proposed weighing on his shoulders as you stand in silence, and.. were your eyes glassy?

you steeled yourself not to cry. tenya was who you wanted, you dreamed of ending up with a man like him, he was a gentleman, he never tried in earnest to hurt you in any way, yet he still did.

“you cannot ask me to pick,” your voice trembled but your words rang clear. “i will not pick.”

“then you’ve chosen him.” he noted, his voice a fraction of the volume it was only a few moments ago, his hand coming up to adjust his glasses once again. your breath catches in your lungs as you take in what he said.

“are you serious right now? really tenya?!” you find your voice again, continuing to spout words at this raised volume, “you’re ending what we had before we could even experience it?!”

“i suppose i am, y/n.” he says calmly as he turns, walking into the dormitory building.

he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend tonight.. how’d it go so wrong?

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @miyamoratsumuu

[slashingdisneypasta]

Erik Destler x Fem!StageActress!Reader || Would Include...

Erik Destler always learning your on-stage romantic interests part totally and then 'dispatching' of the poor guy just before he's meant to go on so he then can always taking his place would include...

Warnings: Contemporary musical references, I don't care, shoot me. Also just basic Erik creepiness; murder and not-super-consensual kissing/touches (dub con at most).

Tagging: @marinerainbow and @masqueradeball .

🥀 Erik falling for you almost the moment you entered the Palais Garnier for the first time. He has no chill, we know this. He's like a Disney Princess. One song and he's fallen hopelessly in love.

🥀 Erik always keeping an eye on the cast lists when they come out- checking who you are and if you have a romantic interest. If you do, that person is now his main target. He may not kill them immediately, he'll wait until the final show on the final night, but there is a big red bullseye on their back now.

🥀 Erik practising 'his' lines (The lines of your on-stage romance) in his sewer room, reciting them to a dummy wearing some... familiar clothing. What? No, he didn't sneak into your chambers in the middle of the night and steal them from you! No, no! Absolutely not!... though you are missing a dress exactly like the one the doll is wearing. *cough*

🥀 Erik treating that doll of you with the utmost care. Almost as much as he'd treat you, the real you, with (Or, how he'd like to treat you. Only the lord knows if Erik could actually be gentle if given the chance to hold you). Its really creepy. Imagine his fingertips only grazing the dolls cheek very gently, but his eyes drift downwards (even though, again, its JUST A DOLL- ITS JUST STUFFING, ERIK!- Y O U ' R E T H E O N E W H O S T U F F E D I T- ) with very desire-filled eyes. Imagine him on one knee before the doll, holding its hand in his, its dead-eyes staring off into space while he professes deep speeches about love that are supposed to be romantic but just come out wrong and infatuated off Erik's tongue. Imagine Erik's hand wandering in the middle of a particularly heated scene; completely lost to his imagination.

🥀 Erik n e v e r, ever stealing the part of a villain. Even if that villain gets much more heated, or charged scenes with you then your actual love interest (Duke Monroth, Professor Callahan, Judge Turpin, Scar, etc). He wants to be your hero. Your prince, your true love.

🥀 Erik watching your every show, in his special box 5, studying you with eyes so hot you swear you can feel them on your skin every night. Paying so close attention, so he knows exactly how to compliment you on stage; how to be your perfect stage partner. This is why your scenes in every last show at the Palais Garnier are so impossibly electrifying to the audience- and, to you.

🥀 Erik allowing your casted partner to appear in the first few scenes with you during that last performance on that last night, so you never really know when its going to stop being the one guy and start being Erik- you're on your toes. Waiting the whole performance for the hand you grab onto to be Erik's. (He's waiting for the perfect moment to step in. The moment when you're really, really in character; lost to your art.)

🥀 Erik being the Christian to your Satine during 'El Tango De Roxanne' (His eyes upon your face. His hand upon your hand. His lips caress your skin. It's more than I can stand), 'Crazy Rolling' (See how I leave with every piece of you. Don't underestimate the things I will do), and 'Your Song Reprise' (Look at me... Satine... Why else live, if not for love?) in Moulin Rouge.

🥀 Erik being the Fiyero to your Elphaba during that super fucking charged 'As Long As You're Mine' scene in Wicked. You know? With you both on your knees on the stage surrounded by dramatic mist and you cant keep your hands off eachother?? *cough cough* I mean, with you both on your knees on the stage surrounded by dramatic mist and Fiyero and Elphaba cant keep their hands off eachother??? XD (Kiss me too fiercely, Hold me too tight; I need help believing, You're with me tonight, My wildest dreamings, Could not foresee, Lying beside you, With you wanting me // Every moment, As long as you're mine, I'll wake up my body, And make up for lost time.)

🥀 Erik being the Prince to your Sleeping Beauty, Snow White during the True Love's Kiss Scene. Oh yes, he definitely goes there. Did you doubt it?

🥀 Erik AS THE BEAST IN 'EVERMORE' TO YOUR BELLE IN BEAUTY AND THE BEAST!!!?

🥀 Erik never appearing at the end of the production to bow- he cant. You know that. So he makes his last moments on stage with you last, because honestly- who knows when the next time will be?? Its not like he can come call on you like a normal person... 🙄he's a dramatic freak. He holds your hand a few moments longer then necessary, or a little tighter. He kisses you one more time even though its not scripted.

🥀 Erik leaving you a bouquet of flowers in your dressing room after that last show on that last night. Signed simply, ceaselessly yours.

~

🥀 You tell yourself every time that the show must go on. You tell yourself, that thats why you don't stop it; Don't do anything.

🥀 You are lying to yourself. You cant deny the electricity crackling all over your skin every time you see Erik on stage with you, every time Erik touches you under fake pretences. You've never felt quite the same on stage then when he's there with you; you feel like you're really the characters... and there is nothing on earth like that feeling. No one else can give you this. No one but him.

🥀 You expect it now and anxiously await the moment when your practise partner (Just Erik's understudy. Thats what you're thinking of them now; the men who are actually cast) dematerialises from the stage and its Erik.

🥀 You always leave the flowers from Erik at the grave of the man who died. Its sick, the game (?? habit?? r e l a t i o n s h i p??) you're in, but you cant stop. And you cant apologise, so you can only do this.

🥀 You working extra hard to get lead roles at the Palais Garnier. As soon as one show is over, you have a hunger to do it again. Get another part, get Erik back on that stage with you.

Its like an addiction.

[aangelinakii]

THEIR TASTE IN MOVIES.

characters written about in this piece : bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne, barbara gordon, duke thomas, stephanie brown, cassandra cain

note : i lit thought of this last night and wrote it within 12 hours is this my comeback

BRUCE WAYNE

you guys are gonna hateee meee 💀💀💀💀 but i think bruce wayne is an avid documentary watcher. he likes living in real life, likes knowing everything he is experiencing is real. and he likes being in the know of the topics circulating the planet he's living on. he's not a reality tv person though (although he may have a super super guilty pleasure of love island uk that tim and barb found out and he literally threatened them to keep to themselves, but they use as blackmail anyway).

movies i think he would like :

fyre: the greatest party that never happened, 2019. directed by chris smith

how to catch a serial killer, 2018. directed by john holdsworth

athlete a, 2020. directed by bonni cohen & jon shenk

the hatchet wielding hitchhiker, 2023. directed by colette camden

DICK GRAYSON

the total opposite of bruce, i can see dick watching more idyllic things, and just feel good ! he might like a nice biopic, but is really picky (pun unintended) about them. he also enjoys musicals !! but musicals that focus on realism and story instead of theatricals, like i think he'd pass on moulin rouge, just because there's so much going on at one time. also likes media he consumed from when he was younger, he likes the fuzziness of nostalgia.

movies i think he would like :

the greatest showman, 2017. directed by michael gracey

a knight's tale, 2001. directed by brian helgeland

the truman show, 1998. directed by peter weir

bohemian rhapsody, 2018. directed by bryan singer

JASON TODD

jason loves an action movie. he so wouldn't tell anybody, but if he likes a move he's seen in a film, he'll try it on patrol, taking out one of penguin's henchmen, or even when just training in the bat cave. but he loves films where a lot's going on and the choreography is really impressive !! he really admires fight choreographers for being able to make them look realistic, and likes to laugh at the ones that are shite.

movies i think he would like :

bullet train, 2022. directed by david leitch

scarface, 1983. directed by brian de palma

kingsman: the secret service, 2014. directed by matthew vaughn

john wick, 2014. directed by chad stahelski (and all the sequels)

TIM DRAKE

this guy prefers to watch alone, meaning he can experience sadder watched exactly how they're meant to be watched; in tears. he probably struggles to be emotional, so also watching films like these is an outlet for him. i love how with all of these their films are like a guilty pleasure thing they wouldn't tell anyone. i think people's choice in film is very telling though, so...

la la land, 2016. directed by damien chazelle

manchester by the sea, 2016. directed by kenneth lonergan

aftersun, 2022. directed by charlotte wells

dead poets society, 1989. directed by peter weir

DAMIAN WAYNE

we all know damian wayne is an... interesting species. i feel like even though he knows it is an unlikely scenario, he has figures out everything he would do in a zombie apocalypse, but hasn't told anybody, and would actively make fun of someone who has done the same. like he knows what weapons he'd need, where he'd go, how he'd make an antidote. what i'm trying to say is he likes zombie movies, and horror movies. it feels like he's testing himself, on his ability to be scared or prepared in these or future scenarios. even tho he doesn't actually get that scared. also doesn't mind foreign films, he thinks they're better at telling a story.

movies i think he would like :

train to busan, 2016. directed by yeon sangho

split, 2016. directed by m night shyamalan

hereditary, 2018. directed by ari aster

long legs, 2024. directed by osgood perkins

BARBARA GORDON

i can see barbara enjoying older films, like she likes films that show what life used to be like, and why it may have been better then, and why it may be better now. she's a very philosophical person, always thinking about shit like that. might be a black and white fan, but i'm talking technicolour classics ! she likes a good romance as well, but not ones she cries too, ones that are more feel-good and make her crave the love from that movie.

movies i think she would like :

how to lose a guy in 10 days, 2003. directed by donald petrie

west side story, 1961. directed by jerome robbins & robert wise

funny face, 1957. directed by stanley donen

notting hill, 1999. directed by roger michell

STEPHANIE BROWN

this girl will watch ANYTHING like she has such a wide taste. i said that with her music taste too, like i think she could find a way to enjoy anything. she doesn't like film bro films too much, thinks they're poo and they stink and if you're a guy and you like them you stink too and "get no bitches", but obviously that's up to opinion. obviously. although she will watch anything, i think she has a preference for comedies, and that can come in any shape and form!

movies i think she would like :

scooby doo, 2002. directed by raja gosnell

scary movie, 2000. directed by keenan ivory wayans

white chicks, 2004. directed by keenan ivory wayans

mean girls, 2004. directed by mark waters

DUKE THOMAS

duke likes epic films, like if we ignore for a sec that we're in the dc universe, he would love the batman films, especially the nolan trilogy. but he also would actually be a huge marvel fan, i can totally see it. so he likes superhero films, and he's def a fan of comedy, so if it's mixed into one genre, that's a winner for him. he likes movie nights with the family, so sitting down and getting snacks. probably loves the cinema too, so goes to see the new releases every month. isn't too picky.

movies i think he would like :

deadpool & wolverine, 2024. directed by shawn levy

kick-ass, 2010. directed by matthew vaughn

the harder they fall, 2021. directed by jeymes samuel

top gun: maverick, 2022. directed by joseph kosinski

CASSANDRA CAIN

cassandra watches MASTERPIECES. she definitely has a letterboxd account and writes wayyy too much than she needs to about a film, no matter if she loved it, hated it, or was in the middle about it. she adores foreign films, and loves films with a message. she'll watch and enjoy a film with no plot, but can get tired of them. she likes a packed plot that keeps her focused.

mustang, 2015. directed by deniz gamze ergüven

oslo, august 31st, 2011. directed by joachim trier

eat drink man woman, 1994. directed by ang lee

devdas, 2002. directed by sanjay leela bhansali

[writeroutoftime]

the greatest thing you'll ever learn

pairing: jamie tartt x reader (requested by: anon)

summary: based on the prompt: “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.” -Moulin Rouge

words: 0.6k

a/n: ahhh, I'm in my I love jamie tartt era so this was wonderful to write! though I wasn't completely sure how to incorporate this quote in the story, I hope you enjoy!

oOoOo

The whole day Jamie had you stuck in his head. On the drive to the stadium, during practice, and even now as aimlessly wondered the halls of AFC Richmond. It's not like it was completely out of the norm, you were his best friend after all. In the past, his thoughts revolved around you when he needed to ask you something or when the two of you made plans to spend time together. Nowadays, however, you were all he could think about, just wanting to be near you.

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.” Jamie heard walking by the staff room, and the words stopped him in his tracks.

“Uh, whatcha say just then, Coach?” he asked, poking his head in the office, head tilted to the side.

Ted looked surprised to see Jamie, but smiled at him nonetheless. “Oh, hi, Jamie. I was just sharing a quote I like from cinematic masterpiece Moulin Rouge with our trusty Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman. The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”  he explained happily, while the other coaches in the office nodded solemnly.

Jamie's eyes widened in realization, but he tried to play it cool and mask his expression. "'Suppose that's pretty profound or what not. 'Ya know, if it applied to you." he remarked.

Roy gave Jamie a knowing look before rolling his eyes. No one else spoke a word, so Jamie nodded his head and backed out of the office with a small wave, leaving the coaches to themselves.

"Oooo, do I feel me a good ol' fashion rom-com confession coming from Jamie real soon." Ted laughed, rubbing his hands together, happy the young footballer was finally gaining some sense when it came to you.

"Come what may." Beard quipped, rewarding with a thumbs up from Ted while Roy just grunted and turned back to his computer.

oOoOo

Later that evening, you and Jamie snuggled up on your couch as you watched whatever tv show you landed on - strictly platonic, of course. But the whole night, Jamie had been rather jumpy and seemed to be lost off in space. You finally nudged him and gave him a questioning look, opening the floor for discussion.

"Did you know that, uh, loving is the greatest gift."

"What?" you giggled, unsure as to what Jamie was trying to say.

He flushed at this mistake and tried again, getting closer to what he was trying to say. "No, uh learning to love and all that. It's great innit?"

This time, you bit back your smile and turned your whole body to face Jamie, gently playing with his hands. "What is it that you are trying to say, Jamie?"

Sighing, Jamie took a deep breath and finally spoke in his own words. "I'm trying to tell you that I like you, y/n. No, more than that. I love you." he confessed, sneaking a glance at you. "And I finally realized that being with you all this time as taught me what it's like to love someone. To put someone first and want to be with them all the time." he finished, fighting the urge to pull away from you and run from his feelings.

Before he could do that though, he felt your lips press against his own in a soft, sweet kiss. It was over before it really started, but Jamie had the dopiest grin on his face as he pulled back. You bit your lip playful and leaned into him even more. "I love you too, Jamie. I can't imagine being with anyone else." you promised, intertwining your fingers and sighing in content.

---

The pieces finally came together a few days later when you came with Jamie to practice holding hands, and Ted couldn't help himself but humming 'Come What May' from Moulin Rouge. You chuckled, finally realizing what Jamie meant, and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek. Loving Jamie really was the greatest thing.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Part 1: Welcome to the Moulin Rouge✨

A/N: SO excited for me and @mountainsandmayhem to bring you a Moulin Rouge Joel Miller series ❤️ We are both so excited to be writing this and hope you love it as much as we do! Hang on tight for the ride of your life between these two on their angsty, beautiful love story 🥰 Comments and reblogs mean the world to us! Chapters are in both reader’s and Joel’s POV. No explicit smut in first chapter.

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Tags: Angst, unprotected p in v, oral, fingering, forbidden love, murder, fluff and smut, jealousy, moulin rouge au, soulmates being in love, protective Joel, no outbreak, reader is 20 and Joel is 29, tags will be updated each chapter

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t know what awaits him as he takes on a maintenance job at the Moulin Rouge. He doesn’t know he’ll meet the absolute love of his life, the Sparkling Diamond, as his world comes crashing down around him fast. Will he be able to stay away when he’s warned not to touch the dancers? Will he listen or will he challenge that pull that draws him to the one thing that sets his soul on fire?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Welcome to the Moulin Rouge

Your whole childhood centered around death, but you never thought about the possibility of yourself dying, never thought about how you’d like to go. As your vision blurs and the world begins to silence, you realise that this is the ultimate way to go. For her. Saving her is all that matters, saving the person you love the most in the entire world, even if you’ve never met her.

Sarah, please Joel. Name her Sarah.

At times, your childhood may have seemed sad or tragic to the outside eye, but to you it has been nothing short of amazing. You don’t remember the incident that took both your parents, you were too young, so young that you can’t even picture their faces. You were brought to stay with the only family you had left - your mom’s much older brother.

Your uncle Edward was a quiet and kind man, he was also the owner of Moulin Rouge. A bright and colorful dance hall, filled with sparkling costumes and lively music. For the longest time you weren’t allowed outside of the living quarters, but you remember laughter and cheering filtering through the thin walls. This place was magic to you in your childhood naivety.

You remember begging the dancers to teach you the steps to the songs you overheard in the night. Occasionally, one of them would show you a kick or a twirl that you’d practice alone in your room until the muscles in your legs were stretched and sore, no longer able to support your tiny frame.

During the day, a tutor came in for a few hours to teach you and the few other children that lived there, meals were brought to your living quarters by an older woman who rarely spoke to you. Uncle Edward was alway home for those meals, but often had stacks of papers to go through. Most of the time it was just you and the broken guitar and pottery wheel your uncle had given you. But overall you were alone, far away music and laughter to keep you company.

For your thirteenth birthday your uncle surprised you with dance lessons. He knew how much you wanted to learn, and could practically feel the energy buzzing off you every time your eyes darted to the performing dancers. So he gave in, gifting you with something that might bring you a little joy in the isolated burlesque. A silent way of telling you he was sorry for not being around much and leaving you to delve in your loneliness inside your vacant room.

“Well, little petal,” your uncle says as you blow out the singular candle sitting on top of the small cake to celebrate you turning sixteen. “I think you’re old enough now to come up and watch my diamonds perform. What do you say? Would you like to come see the show?”

You practically jumped from your seat, mouthful of chocolate cake, “Yes, Uncle! Please. Nothing could make me happier.”

“Tomorrow night I will bring you up to see it. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.”

You’d seen the costumes and the women in their makeup before, you’ve even been out to the dance hall and on the stage. But that was only during the day, when the tables were only occupied by up-turned chairs, the overhead lights were off, and the band was nothing more than an empty pit in front of the stage.

The next night, your uncle brought you a new sparkly pink dress, and had the hair and make-up ladies get you all dolled up to watch. You looked at yourself in the mirror and had never felt more beautiful, seeing yourself as one of the famous diamonds of the Moulin Rouge. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

The show was like nothing you’d ever seen before. You didn’t know so many varieties of reds and blues and purples existed. The women kicked their legs in unison, men cheering and clapping as they swooshed their large billowing skirts. The music filled your ears with joy and wonder, the sounds crisper than they were through the walls. Laughter and happiness held you like a tight hug. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

As the show wound down, your Uncle leaned to you and said it was time to head to bed, “You’ve seen the show, little petal. Now the adults will indulge in wine and talk about things not for your ears.”

You didn’t argue, simply kissing your uncle on the cheek and saying, “Thank you, Uncle. I am going to practice harder so I can become a real diamond one day!”

You floated down the hallway. With your eyes still swarming with the bright colors of the show and your future dreams you hadn’t realised that you opened the door before the one to take you home, and this door led to something both sinister and unspeakable - it led to darkness. The room was only lit by candles sprawled across the wall, casting looming shadows of the acts happening before your very eyes.

You stood in the doorway taking in men and women completely naked, rubbing up against one another incessantly. Your tutor taught you that these areas of your body are not to be shared, they are only for you. Yet here they are, almost unashamed as they grind. The men all appear to be having a good time, but the women - they’re crying out.

Are they in pain? What are these men doing to them? Why are some men just watching? They should be helping. Your uncle, does he know that this is happening? Is this what his diamonds do?

Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

You nervously approached your Uncle about it a few days later. “Oh, my sweet little petal. I’m sorry that you had to witness that. I promise you, none of those women were in pain. Not all my diamonds dance like that, and you never will. I meant it when I offered you a spot to dance, fully clothed and on the stage only. I only hope that you do not think less of me now that you know what goes on behind closed doors of the Moulin Rouge.”

Four Years Later

Joel stumbles into the doors of the Moulin Rouge after seeing the maintenance worker needed sign displayed in bold letters outside the burlesque. This was the last place he wanted to end up, the last place he’d be caught dead in; but he needed something, and anything was better than the minimal income of selling his woodwork. He couldn’t get by anymore by only getting one or two customers every couple of weeks, if he was lucky. It wasn’t enough to pay the rent of his small, cramped apartment. Wasn’t enough to feed himself day and night. He needed more, and this was his shot.

He pushes the heavy black doors open, quickly tucking his red flannel button-up into his pressed pants, needing to look his best if he wants to get this job. He has to get it, has to impress whoever is the owner of this club.

He finds the first person he can spot, quickly getting the attention of a bartender as he washes crystal glasses with a thin rag behind the sleek bar top.

“Sorry to bother you, but I saw the sign out front that said you need some help with maintenance around here?” he asks briskly as he stares at the bartender with eyes that say he’s desperate. His hands come to rest on the bar top and he fights the urge to nervously drum his fingers along it.

The bartender looks him over as he sets down a glass, nodding his head. “Oh, yes. Let me go grab the owner real quick. Be right back, wait here,” he says as he runs in the opposite direction, disappearing behind a long hallway. Joel nervously pushes back his outgrown curls, silently cursing to himself for buying that loaf of bread instead of getting a haircut. His big brown eyes dart curiously around the club, trying to take it all in.

It’s light outside as the sun glistens in through the drawn crimson curtains, some dancers sauntering on stage as they practice their moves, swaying their hips to a nonexistent beat. Joel averts his eyes and takes in the rest of the large room - it’s filled with tables that are meant for the men to smoke cigars and drink their alcohol as they drool over the women of the burlesque. All lust and no love, the way the burlesque was set up to be. Joel was never into this scene, never fit in with any of those types of men, but he was desperate, he needed work and this may very well be the only way he can get any.

A tall, thin man walks into the room with slicked back sandy hair and green eyes that are as sharp as a snake’s. He eyes Joel carefully, one hand resting in his pocket, the other stretching to shake Joel’s. Joel wastes no time and reaches a hand out, feeling a firm grasp as the owner shakes his hand.

“The name’s Edward. And you are?” he asks with a gentle smile.

“I’m Joel. Joel Miller,” he says with nerves running through his body, the back of his neck slick with sweat. He’s nervous he won’t get it, nervous he’ll leave empty handed with no job. He’ll fight for it though because he’s a fighter, and he doesn’t give up easily.

“So, I hear you’re interested in the maintenance job. You got any experience?” Edward asks as he leans against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest as he examines Joel again, taking in his flannel and tan pants, his worn work boots.

“Yes, sir. Got years of experience with fixin’ things. Anything from sinks to building homes. Even have a little woodworking shop on the side,” he says proudly as he tries not to fidget with the buttons on his flannel.

“Hmmm,” Edward hums as he looks him over again carefully, those bright green eyes staring at Joel’s clothes like he’s judging him. Joel swallows down that dry lump of self doubt creeping in. “You seem capable. How old are you? Think you can handle working at nights, too? Gets pretty rowdy around here when the moon comes up, but that’s when we need someone the most,” he presses, eyes shifting over him as his brow raises in question again, waiting for Joel to respond.

“Just about to turn thirty and ‘course. Nights don’t bother me one bit. I can even start today, if I can,” Joel says with a determined smile as he shoves his left hand deep into his pocket, praying he’ll get the job.

“I see. Well then, looks like you got yourself a new gig. See you tonight at let’s say 7:00 pm,” he says, reaching a hand out to Joel. For most men that would be a question, but Edward is a very rich and powerful man, he doesn’t ask for things, he demands them. Joel doesn’t hesitate for a second and puts his grip in Edward’s, shaking in agreement.

“Thank you, thank you! You don’t know how much I appreciate this,” he says with tears almost filling his eyes. A job, he finally has a job that’ll get him by just fine. No more nights of going hungry. He can finally breathe a second, if not more.

Before he turns to leave, Edward puts a hand on his shoulder and turns him back around carefully. “Oh, forgot to mention something. There’s only one condition I ask of you. Don’t touch my dancers. They’re strictly for the guests that pay,” he says with furrowed brows, his eyes burning into him, as if to see if Joel will flinch at all.

“That’ll be no problem on my part. Promise,” Joel confirms with a nod of his head, his tousled curls moving with the motion.

“Good, good…” Edward hums out. “Alright, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” he says with a wave as he turns around and heads back behind crimson curtains, disappearing into a dark hallway.

Joel can’t help but smile as he heads out the doors of the Moulin Rouge, stepping into the warm sunshine as it bathes across his tanned skin. He takes a breath of fresh air as it smells of autumn leaves and new hope.

Things start to feel like they’re looking up, like something nirvanic was right on the cusp. What Joel doesn’t know is just what waits around that heavy crimson curtain for him. He doesn’t know the beautiful disaster he’s about to step into. A Sparkling Diamond that will take over his life forever. Someone so precious, so special, so indescribably unique. Someone so very - you.

Joel makes sure to get to the Moulin Rouge fifteen minutes early, wanting nothing more than to give off a good impression. The burlesque is filling up quickly as the sun fades away, the bright full moon taking its place in the sky, stars scattering around it.

When he walks inside the double doors, he sees that the dance hall is filling up quickly with men who smoke expensive cigars and drink bottles of whiskey that he can only dream of affording. He makes his way further into the entrance, his eyes taking in his surroundings, noticing that the large room looks nothing like earlier when it was closed.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings as red curtains drape across the crimson wallpaper. The dance floor is littered with burlesque dancers that lift their skirts high and tease the men as they surround them, hoping to entice the wealthiest one. Money is what they’re after and selling themselves is their only shot at making any extra tips for the night.

Joel clenches his jaw at the sight and turns his head, waiting at the front until he finally spots Edward in a black pressed suit. His blonde hair slicked back tight, looking around to make sure his guests are happy and taken care of. When he sees Joel, he walks toward him and puts a hand on his shoulder in greeting.

“Ahh, there you are. Come along now. I’ll show you around,” he says gladly.

After that, he shows Joel the burlesque. He takes him to the maintenance closet and gives him a key to access it - metal tools and large shelves cover the entirety of the inside. Next he takes him down long, dark corridors, past rooms that are locked shut. Just when Joel thinks he's seen it all, they head up to the second story. Sweeping down wooden laden hallways, passed the balcony that overlooks the large city, and through winding rooms that seem to have no end. He had no idea it was so large and spacious here; didn’t even realise people lived here. Joel starts to think more softly towards Edward, sure these women put themselves in vulnerable positions night after night, but they have safe housing and a sense of family and community back here.

Edward takes Joel back down toward the main ballroom where the entertainment is held every night. Just as he latches on to the spiral staircase, he sees a man dragging a dancer with barely anything on into a dark room at the end of the luminescent hallway with red carpet sprawled across the floor. He shoves her in as he starts working his hands up her body, and Joel can see the mass of bodies already in the room as he closes the door, concealing moans and lust on the other side of the tarnished doorway.

Joel gulps and looks back toward the ground, keeping his eyes off the pleasure room. He knows what goes on in these walls, knows what filth lies in every corner. The stench of money and sex encompass the room, he can almost taste it on the tip of his rough tongue. He finds it revolting, men using these women's bodies. No love to be seen in these walls. Only perversions and sexual desire. He turns away sharply and descends the stairs, almost running into the back of Edward.

“I believe one of the wooden tables over by the stage needs some maintenance. The legs are collapsing, think you can do something about that?” he asks with a raised brow as he points at a dark wooden table with the legs barely hanging on.

“Sure. Probably just needs some tightening up. Easy fix,” Joel nods.

“Excellent. I have guests to greet, so fix that and then come find me,” just as he turns on his heel, he stops and looks back at Joel. Green eyes narrowing, a finger pointing in Joel’s direction. “Remember,” he says with venom in his voice, “Do not touch my dancers. They’re only for paying customers, and you cannot afford them.”

Joel only nods, letting Edward know he understands. With that, Edward turns and heads for the main doors, greeting more men as they pack in like sardines. Joel sighs and heads for the maintenance closest, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that shoots through his gut at the backhanded warning Edward gave.

Don’t touch the dancers…you cannot afford them.

Even if Joel could afford it, he would never do what these men are doing. The soft, beautiful women of this place deserve to be treasured, not pawed at and used. He wasn’t a rabid dog. He could control himself unlike all the other men that crowded the Moulin Rouge.

He grabs up a metal wrench and shoves some nuts and bolts deep into his pocket. When he makes his way back to the table he starts to assess the damage. This would be much easier to fix in his well lit workshop, but there’s no carrying this table away from the stage and through the crowd of hungry men.

Now that he’s thrust in the middle of the wooden dance floor, he can see the burlesque dancers seeking out the richest looking men, sitting on their laps and letting them put their dirty paws all over their bodies. The men laugh, carrying on conversations as they fondle their breasts, leaning down to trail kisses up their necks. Some get up and lead the women down the long, dark corridor. Back to the pleasure room. Back to their impending doom.

The three men at the table next to him have one girl propped up in front of them, all of their hands grabbing different areas of her body, asking her if she wants all three of them; the men are easily twenty years older than the petite and innocent looking blonde in front of them. Joel feels for the dancers, but there isn’t anything he can do. It’s business. It’s all about the fucking money and pleasure. Pleasure sells, and this is what most men desire. Sex.

The room grows louder as men cheer from the crowded tables. Some swarming the end of the lit up stage to get a peek at the next performer. Some start chanting, yelling in demand for the next poor soul to dance across that stage, right into the pit of vipers that are ready to spit venom at whatever girl walks out next.

The cigar smoke lingers in the air as crystal glasses clink in cheers, alcohol spilling over on the tabletops. Joel knows that’ll leave a huge mess for him and the other staff to clean up after closing. He tightens the bolts under the table, winding the wrench as he tries to turn his focus away from the lust filled crowd. They’re just a bunch of sick fucks who get off on ripping away the innocence and dignity of women. Nothing more than their play things. Theirs to possess and own for a few hours. It’s cruel and vile, disgusting in itself.

Joel was never the type of guy to use a woman. He’d never dream of hurting anyone. He was thoughtful and charming, a man who minds his manners and works hard for everything he has.

He digs harder into the leg of the table, trying to mute the hooting and hollering that is getting louder by the second. The sounds of the men start to overlap until it’s muffled and pressing on his eardrums, running along the nerves that wire his brain. He concentrates on the task at hand, shutting out the noise as he tries to fix the table.

“The Sparkling Diamond!”

“She’s coming on stage now!”

“Look, look!”

The men nearest him yell to each other, babbling about the Sparkling Diamond as the lights turn crimson and dark around the room, crystal chandeliers send glistening reflections across the expensive tailored suits that fill the crowded room.

“Here she comes, boys!”

Just then, the lights go out completely and a spotlight shines on the wide stage. Crimson curtains splay over the sides, exposing the long walkway where dancers show off for the men. The crowd goes quiet, a few whistles shrouding the silence as a slow, sensual song covers the room. The men pound on the stage, yelling for the Sparkling Diamond to come out. Joel thinks she must be something special if she has the entire room practically panting with anticipation. The wild men crawl towards the stage, pushing each other to get to the front so they can get the best view. Joel doesn’t know anything about a Sparkling Diamond, but he’s intrigued. Just what were they getting all worked up about?

Before he can comprehend what's happening, he hears the click of heels travel across the stage. He rises slowly, seeing the pretty figure that dances under the bright spotlight, the men now screaming and throwing their hands out, begging to get a touch of the enchantress that graces their presence. When she’s fully in view he freezes, dropping the wrench to the floor as it crashes with a loud thud against the spotless wood. It suddenly feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. Joel braces himself against the table, the sight before him nearly knocking him back down to his knees.

It’s you.

The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in his entire life. Long, soft curls cascade past your shoulders and bounce around with every move you make on the lit up stage. Your short pink dress barely grazes the curve of your thighs as your arms raise overhead and you spin slowly. As you bring your arms back down, your red painted fingernails caress your curls, then tease the jawline of your flawless face. Your cheeks flush from the attention before you gently bite the tip of your finger, red lipstick sitting matted to your delicate lips.

Joel thinks they look soft to the touch, delicate even. Your lips call to him, almost scream his name. Joel, Joel, Joel. And he wants to answer it. God, does he want to answer that call.

He watches the way you twirl, fluttering your eyelashes as you look down at the men, seducing them effortlessly. Performing is what you were meant to do. When you finally look at Joel he falls completely apart, all his threads coming untied in a heap, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

He stands there frozen, sinking his nails into the hardwood table as he sucks in a shaky breath, almost unable to fully take in the vision that stands mere inches before him. He can’t hear the carnal men anymore, can’t smell the cigar smoke that encases the air, can’t focus on anything that even remotely takes his attention from the beauty that lights up the room. He can only focus on you. He feels a pull from his chest, like an invisible string, forcing him to look at nothing else but you. The Sparkling Diamond that draws men to the Moulin Rouge, and the one thing he knows will get him fired.

Your eyes sparkle and shine like a rare gemstone, pulling Joel in like a siren’s forbidden song, a lull that drags him under the dark depths of the sea. The smile you wear doesn’t quite reach your eyes, a sadness there that he can’t quite place. The men claw and reach for you like starving pigs, acting like you’re just a piece of meat to pass around to all the others to get a quick taste of.

It makes him sick the way they objectify your body, only caring about what’s underneath the short shimmery dress you wear. Joel doesn’t stare at your curves, doesn’t get sucked into whatever fantasy the rest of the men are in. He just stares at your eyes. Beautiful, sparkling. He’d cross oceans just to have a chance to memorize each fleck and color that maps out those starry eyes. Like roadmaps to his soul, leading him home to the deep depths of those glistening irises. And that’s when something snaps, he can’t - no, he won’t let any of these men put one grimy finger on you. Whatever it takes he’ll do it. He makes a silent vow to keep you safe, protect you at all cost.

There’s only one condition, don’t touch the dancers.

Edward’s voice plays through Joel’s mind on repeat, warning him to not tempt fate. But fate had already been tempted when he saw you up on that stage. He’d quit, starve, be homeless on the street if it meant he could have a chance to be with you. He’d give it all just to be able to touch you, to know you, to have you. He’d leave it all for you. His sweet, Sparkling Diamond.

You spin and turn, kicking your feet up to show off your smooth, long legs that all the men drool over. You turn to the right, drifting your eyes in the direction of a man you’ve never seen before. You almost freeze as he stares right back at you, big beautiful brown eyes gazing into yours as he gawks at you reverently. But his eyes don’t travel down your body like the other men’s do. His eyes stay fixed on your face alone, staring up into the pits of your soul as you suck in a breath and try to focus on the beat of the song.

His long tousled curls drape over his forehead, almost falling into his brown doe eyes that seem to suck you in. He’s tall, broad shouldered with thick biceps that cling to his rolled up button-up flannel. Spidery veins cascade down his arms and end in massive hands that stay clenched by his sides. His tanned skin seems to glow as he stares at you with brown eyes that melt into your own like a candle stick, wax flowing down slowly, sticky and new. It’s captivating. He is captivating.

It's like you’re stuck in a haze, thick clouds that cover you and wrap their fog around so you can’t see, can’t hear anything anymore. You try to focus on the men that praise your body, try to avert your eyes from the handsome stranger, but that organ in your chest you force yourself to ignore is almost screaming at you to run to him. Two souls colliding into each other that were destined to meet. Just like twin flames.

Soulmates.

You blink once, twice, peeling your gaze away from him, turning the other direction, forcing yourself to stay bright eyed, hoping your smile doesn’t lower. You come face to face with a gentleman with a large top hat that screams your name and reaches his arms out, desperate to get just a single touch from you that he hopes will become more.

You turn back around and find that heated gaze again with the dark brown eyes, your own eyes going wide as they draw you to him. He looks a lot like your saving grace. Someone that wants to come in and sweep you off your feet.

Again, he just watches you silently, eyes searching yours as he seems to clock into your mind, reading your thoughts like a book from front to back. He won’t find anything there except a longing for something more. An escape. Happiness. And maybe he could be that for you. Maybe, just maybe he was destined to find you. You can feel it in your chest, that ache and pull that draws you to him.

Your uncle won’t like this. Not one bit…

Joel watches your entire routine, never once letting his eyes drop from you. He watches as you disappear into the crowd of men, narrowing his eyes when he sees the way they grab at you and beg to have a dance with the Sparkling Diamond. It makes him want to strangle every single one of them slowly.

Please, just one dance?

Sparkling Diamond! Care to have a drink with me?

How about a little fun in the red room?

You politely decline each offer and just smile as you pass the men by, trying your best to not meet the stranger with the pretty brown eyes’ gaze. He’s so handsome, so very easy on the eyes. You try your best to look at the men with money, knowing this is what you’re here for, to give them a show so they’ll pay to come back. Try as you might, that thin string snapped the second you saw his brown flecked honey eyes. You don’t want to do this anymore.

You turn where you stand and look back towards the stage. You search as men cram around you and over the top of an older man’s shoulder you can see him, clear as day, still staring at you with a trance-like expression on his face. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, curling your lips into a shy smile and you swear you see his pretty caramel eyes light up like fireflies in the night.

Just when you’re about to walk over to him, you feel your uncle pull you away in the opposite direction. “Come on, little petal, got some nice men that’d like to meet you.”

You follow him helplessly past some drawn crimson curtains, already over the drunk men that will press their chapped lips to your face and place their grimy hands all over you. You’re finished though, over all the fake smiles and laughter you are forced to sell these men night after night. When you look back over your shoulder you can’t see him anymore. No more pretty brown eyes that make you feel somehow safe. You don’t know him, his backstory, his name, or even his age, but you’ll find out. You have to, you just have to.

After finishing fixing the two broken tables and putting them back into order, Joel gets another visit from Edward as he saunters over with a big smile and a glass of scotch in his hand.

“Everything going alright?” Edward asks as he pulls on his black tie and straightens out his long tailed coat.

“Yes, sir. Finished fixin’ those tables for you. They should be good to go now,” Joel answers as he stands up straight with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Excellent!” Edward goes over to the wooden tables and knocks on the top, inspecting Joel’s work as he looks them over carefully. Once he’s satisfied he gives Joel a strong pat on the back and nods. “Did good work, boy. Think we’ll keep you around.”

Joel smiles at the compliment, thanking him for the opportunity. “Oh, there’s actually something else that needs to be done. You remember that room we passed on the second floor? The very back room by the balcony? The one that says Sparkling Diamond?”

Joel’s eyes go wide as he recalls passing a big red door with the letters spelled out in fake diamonds. That has to be your room. He should’ve noticed it sooner, maybe asked about it. But he didn’t know that room would belong to the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He didn’t know it until now.

“Uh-yeah. What about it?” he asks cautiously, eyebrow slightly raised in anticipation of what Edward would say next.

“The sink in her kitchen is dripping and some of the lightbulbs are burnt out. There should be some in the supply closet. Think you can handle taking care of that now?”

He doesn’t hesitate a second. “Absolutely. I’ll get right on it,” Joel says urgently.

As he turns to leave, Edward calls his name. “Oh, Joel. Before you leave tonight, go ahead and have a beer. It’s on me.”

Joel doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been offered a free one before, always had to pay money that he didn’t have to get one. “Oh, thank you. I… I appreciate it.”

“You earned it, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow night?” Edward asks with his eyebrows knitted together and gaze heavy on Joel.

“I’ll be here,” he promises.

“Alright, take care now. I’ve got some business to attend to so see you tomorrow.” Edward turns and walks back into a sea of rich men.

Joel pushes his way past men in black suits and black ties, cigars hanging from their open mouths and drinks spilling over their glass cups as they talk about money, sex, stocks, and women. He tunes them out and keeps walking, ignoring the nasty stares he gets from not being in a suit himself.

As soon as he grabs the bag of lightbulbs and a few plumbing tools, he heads up the grand staircase with red carpet sprawled across each step. He makes his way up the stairs, down the narrow dark hallway and stops before he turns the corner. He stands just a few feet from the pleasure room. The red room as they call it here.

He can hear the moans and cries coming from the room, can smell the stench of sex that whisks through the air. He wonders if you go into that room night after night, letting the men with dirty claws sink their nails into you, feasting on you like blood sucking vampires.

His jaw clenches up as his nails sink into the meat of his palm, his face becoming hot with heat as he imagines you splayed out on an open bed while the men take and take from you until you have nothing left to give. Until you’re just a used up rag doll for them to toy with. He snarls and turns the corner sharply, putting those dark thoughts out of his mind. If he had his way he’d make damn sure you’d never set foot in that room again. He’d slaughter a whole fucking mass of men if he had to. No one should lay their filthy hands on you as far as he’s concerned.

He walks through the long corridor, passing door after door until he finally gets to yours. He takes a deep breath and turns the golden doorknob slowly entering the dimly lit room with pale pink wallpaper. He gently shuts the door and when he turns around he stops in his tracks, hand sliding off the doorknob as he sees you standing in the middle of the room. Naked.

Your skin is soft, probably as soft as the back of a rose petal. Your legs are long, smooth, and enticing. He wonders what it’d feel like to run his long fingers over your creamy thighs. You’re bent over, ass in the air, as you unbuckle the straps of the high heels you wore on stage. Your hips are curvy, shaping your round ass into mere perfection. Your full breasts peek out from the corner as your long waves spill over your shoulders. You’re absolutely perfect, stunning, a work of pure art.

Joel knows he’s fucked now. He knows. After seeing how beautiful you are, he can’t turn away. He shouldn’t be standing here gawking at you while you change, but he can’t move. He’s stuck like glue, an immovable object that can’t be pushed. He’s in trouble, so much trouble.

He loses his balance when you bend over again, exposing a different view of you that nearly takes him to his knees. The bag of bulbs falls to the ground with a large crash, and you turn with a quaint gasp as you take in the man that stands before you. It’s him, the man with the dark eyes.

Your eyes go wide, quickly reaching for a thin, sheer robe as you wrap it around you and cover the parts of you that are completely exposed. You breathe hard, your breath coming out rushed and fast. He does the same as he just stands there staring, no air left in his lungs as he stands in front of the beauty that takes his breath away. And then it’s silence, only rushed breaths and pining eyes.

The longer he stares into your captivating eyes, the more he knows he’s fucked. There was no way he was getting out of this now, no way to back down. He was going to make you his one way or another. You would be his. Period.

[elephantlovemedleys]

a sweet nothing.

She splurges herself with laughter into his chest, her arms locked around his neck while he wraps her in his embrace. Christian’s cracking up a joke or rather telling her how he’d incorporate it into the show. It’s a bit corny, and pretty cheesy even, Satine thinks and yet somehow, it still manages to bring out a reaction in her, a reaction so warm and light that brings out the smile in her face that he just loves so much. 

How the long and lingering hours of a bright and whimsical night with him felt too fast was something she wondered, time goes by as slow as the hours she’d count just to be with him again, and at the same time as fast as the wind that blows away the candle light into smoke whenever she was around him. She had practiced her lines, share a few stories about themselves here and there that made them feel at home with one another, they’d sung a few songs together, with their harmonies and words intertwined that their voices seemed to have made love to each other, and entangled their bodies as if there was little to no space at all in his bed, and yet everything just fell seamlessly into place and fit perfectly, like she was born to feel the fire consumed by his kiss and he with the electricity of her touch. 

This is what love feels like, and it’s in the way he’d tuck in her curls inside her ear, the way she held onto him as she’d be waking up first while he was still wandering in slumber, the way her cheeks would turn red at the sight of his eyes locking into hers, and the way his voice sounds with great affection as he greets her good morning with a kiss so light—yet enough to make her melt away for him over and over again.

[matan4il]

Man Suang review

Spoilers! (obviously. Also, this was written after watching the movie just once, to give my opinion as "raw" as possible)

This may seem like a weird spot to start, but I feel like I really can't review this movie properly, without pointing out that it's Moulin Rouge, except set in another country AND another genre. The latter gives it a very different feel (to a great degree, due to tone as well, MS is a serious movie, while MR, even while it does want you to care, doesn't take itself too seriously), but the basic structure of the two movies is too similar, so I have to start there.

In both cases, the movie revolves around (and gets its title from) an entertainment center, which is beautiful and alluring, but also serves as a stage for some of the uglier sides of human urges. This entertainment institution houses performers of low social status, who often also must prostitute themselves to the rich and powerful people who frequent the place. And while the whoring is pretty much built in, and no one bats an eye at it, this setting also allows for some murderous intents to surface. The plot is centered around an exceptionally beautiful and talented, lowborn entertainer, who must sell their body to get by, having aspirations to get a better life through this, and the seemingly simple guy, who is a part of their social circle at this entertainment place, who has his own aspirations, and is not as lowly, which is why he doesn't have to stoop as low as prostitution, and can offer something different. Despite the connection between them, they're both trapped in plots bigger than them, set into motion before they even met, and they have to struggle to find their way amidst all this intrigue, which moves them almost like they were pawns. By the end of the movie, there will be betrayal between the two, but also repentance, and an act of choosing each other over their initial ideal, allowing them to make decisions that are "righter" than they would have, had they not met, and ones that give them more freedom than had they simply served the initial goal they were supposed to. Through that, they gain more freedom and agency. Yet despite that, they don't end the movie being together.

Now, why do I bring this comparison up? Because while MR doesn't take itself seriously, like I said, it does want the viewer to care, and it achieves this by recognizing that they can make a mess of genres, of reality vs hallucination (hello Kylie Minogue as the Green Fairy), of time periods (soundtrack and props that have nothing to do with the year 1900), be as camp and over the top as they wanna be, but if the characters and love story are compelling, we'll all still be riveted.

And that's generally true for every movie. At the end of the day, whatever the genre, we watch first and foremost because someone made us care in some way about at least one of the characters or relationships featured in the film. My fave action movie ever works so well, not because its climax scene is so full of fists (in the middle of a lake at night in total darkness, with the very real threat of the good guy being drowned by the bad one), it hits home because this fight will actually be decided by whether the cold-blooded CIA handler, who had to train the good guy, has come to care enough about him, to be able to tell the two men apart even under these circumstances, and shoot the right person (meaning, the bad guy), saving the protagonist and countless others along the way. It's this test of their (BTW, fully platonic) relationship, that makes up the film's real climax.

So, probably my biggest issue with MS is that it seems to lose sight of that too often. It's so focused on telling us this political mystery, that it forgets at the end of the day, we're here for people and how they feel about and react to each other. The heart of the movie is the relationship between Khem (played by Apo), the entertainer forced to whore himself out, and Chat, the one guy who sees him dancing, but doesn't want just Khem's body. The parts that let their relationship breathe and develop are the best in the movie, they're the ones that feel the most authentic, interesting and impactful. They're the emotional anchor of the whole thing, and even though the movie too often neglects them, and doesn't give them enough time, they just work thanks to Mile and Apo's excellent acting, and their outstanding chemistry. Truly, it's once again a testament of how well these two fit as a team, that they're able to achieve so much, when they're giving too little breathing space for the relationship that is, at the end of the day, the very heart of the film.

The cinematography is great, though I'll admit that I was not that into the colors, I usually like vivid colors, but here they were oversaturated in a way that added a certain sense of heaviness and suffocation to my viewing experience. In a sense, it fits. Man Suang is both beautiful and ugly, alluring and repulsive. Still, I think it would have been a better choice to add the unnatural oversaturation as the ugliness unfolds. First let the viewers be seduced by the beautiful imagery and colors, only then hit them with the ugliness that all of the glitter hides. But then, the movie actually hits us with the ugly bits, with prostitution and murder, in the exposition already. Which makes me think the whole movie could have benefited from a more gradual unfolding of those parts of the entertainment world we're introduced to. Still, I will say that the parts where Khem and Chat get to know each other better, in the market, flying a kite in the field and chatting while climbed up on a tree, they don't have that oversaturation, they get to enjoy more natural lighting, and it gives these scenes a lighter feeling, which does fit. They do seem less burdened in those moments than throughout most of the film. And then the issue with this goes back to... there's just not enough of these scenes, to really give this contrast its own gravitas.

There are scenes which are redundant, they should have been cut out, like when we learn how Tubtim prefers being a whore at Man Suang than outside it. Not that her short monologue isn't touching, but let's be honest, she's not an actual character. She's a plot device, this short scene is only included to set up her change of heart, when she decides to tell Khem the truth, instead of lying. But since this doesn't give her enough depth or her own agency to become a character in her own right, and since she explains her decision to Khem anyway, it's just a waste of time, and it comes at the expense of developing the more emotionally crucial parts of the movie.

And it's not like the movie doesn't know where its emotional weight is. For example, the film's emotional climax, the moment where tensions run highest, is without a doubt the confrontation between Khem and Chat, when they accuse each other of choosing themselves and being willing to sacrifice the other one to do it. It's an effective moment, but I think it would have been so much more powerful, if we got to spend more time seeing Chat and Khem becoming increasingly more important to each other.

For that matter, the real resolution in the movie isn't to the supposed mystery of who has the secret documents and how to get them. It's the resolution of what to do with them, which is where Chat and Khem had clashed. Chat needs the documents destroyed so he and his family won't be punished (possibly killed) for his father's crime. Khem needs the documents delivered to the authorities so that he and his friend won't be punished (possibly killed) for a murder they were framed for. The real resolution of the story is when Khem chooses to burn the documents, so Chat and his family will be safe, and after he leaves, Chat saves them from the flames, and has them delivered, securing Khem's life and reward.

I really liked this part, and again, it felt lighter than the rest of the movie, giving a real sense of relief (visually as well, as there's less oversaturation, and both guys change into nicer outfits, with brighter patches of color). I also enjoyed the more complex POV they offer by the end. They both didn't want the life they were born into. Khem didn't like being of a low socio-economic status, being dependent on the good will of others. Chat didn't want to be a civil servant like his dad. As the movie ends, Khem chooses to stay at Man Suang, turning down the social mobility reward Chat was able to secure for him, while Chatra accepts a position serving his country. Seemingly, they both had to accept their predestined fate. But the fact that they get to choose it now, makes a difference. They see the good they can do, and they're not deprived of humanizing agency. The delivery of this in their dialogues is also quite lovely, with Khem talking about how each type of boat is made for very specific conditions that it must sail, while Chat brings up the fact that now, there are new types of ship, which can defy expectations, and sail in any conditions. They're both right, and they complete each other in describing the place that they ended up in. And the mutual parting, as they both "entrust" something to the care of the other, does reflect their bond.

Still, all of this would have been even more poignant, if this relationship had been given more space. As is, I feel like I even have to guess to a degree why they do care about each other, and why they do end up choosing the other's best interest over their own.

It's a bit clearer with Khem. We see him being exploited for sex, because of his beauty and grace, instead of being seen and appreciated for his talent and hard work. Chat is different. He helps Khem more than once without asking for anything in return, and Chatra also compliments him on his performance. Other than him, there's only one person who seems not to want anything from Khem, his long time friend Wan, but even he ends up betraying and being willing to kill Khem, when Wan doesn't get what he wants from his friend (revenge against all Chinese people). Once more, Chat is different. Yes, he points his revolver at Khem, but he doesn't pull the trigger, he doesn't use the leverage he has in order to force Khem to do what benefits Chat. Instead, he puts down the revolver, and tries to explain himself and his attempt to save his family.

What makes Chat like Khem? I find that a bit harder to answer, though there's a clear and real interest there, which goes beyond Chat's secret mission with the documents. He saves Khem from being discovered during their first meeting, and doesn't ask for anything in return. Chat pays attention to Khem at rehearsals, to his dancing, to his tendency of getting into trouble when not backing down at the face of bullying or injustice... So we can assume Chatra likes all of that. And then he does explicitly express his interest, when he admits to Khem he wanted them to spend that time together at the market.

Which I guess brings me to the question of... okay, so is this a love story? Their relationship is obviously vital to the story, but is it a romantic one? The movie seems to wanna leave it open to interpretation. Maybe it's my hopeless romantic streak, I do wanna see it as a love story. I think there are some hints for that. The mutual interest and liking, even at the stage when they've barely spoken to each other, the way they end up choosing each other even at the possible cost of their own life, the explicit admission from Chat that he was looking to spend time with Khem at the market even when it didn't appear to have anything to do with his secret mission, the way Chat's admission seems to not only make Khem happy, he looks shaken up, there's the kite flying scene, which is played for laughs (flying a kite is apparently Thai slang for jerking off), but still, it's a choice that the movie made, to add a layer of sexual tension there. And then there's the scene where they're trying to figure out who's the woman in red if no one was wearing red on the night they're investigating. Chat steps into the spot where the woman had been, his shirt white, and red light is projected over him. Khem stands in front of him, and they stare at each other for a moment. To me, it serves a double purpose. One is that Khem realizes Chat just handed him the solution to that part of the mystery. The other is that films often illuminate characters in red to show lust and even love. So this might also be a moment when it hits Khem that his feelings for Chat, who's been helping him, who he trusts, run deeper than he realized.

I do think Man Suang would have been braver and better if it had openly gone with the romantic interpretation. It's not just me being an incurable romantic. I also think that, much like in MR, the relationship that changes the course of the two main characters has to be a really strong one, enough for one to decide to give up his life for the other. I'm not sure that friendship quite cuts it, especially when this relationship didn't have that much time to develop (def not enough screen time, but also not enough in-story time). Was love between two men back then a simple thing to admit to? Of course not. But men did fall in love, and even acted on it. I'm not talking here full blown sex. But enough that the audience would know for sure what they feel for each other. On a local TV show, I was reminded that when the small fingers of two people, who are forbidden from any physical connect, do touch, even briefly... something that small and fleeting can still be a confession of deep love and yearning.

Another thing I wish they'd done is make more use of the unspoken tension created by one man dancing to the beat struck by another one. This was so present and delicious in the first teaser released for Mileapo's movie (before it even had a name and a script), I wish they had retained that. It's somewhat present (Khem says he danced so well, thanks to the beat Chat set for him, and then in the scene exposing Tiang, it's Chat's change in drumming that sets the stage for Khem revealing the treason through dance and song), but could have been used so much more. The play between real life and art, the connectedness or contrast between the two men when they're on the same page versus when they're not... There's so much potential for non-verbal drama, and they captured it beautifully in that teaser, so why is it almost non-existent in the film?

I also... I know that the movie is set in the 19th century, and I don't expect 21st century tolerance to be projected back onto it, but I find it hard to ignore that we have one character spew homophobic shit, Khem denying having had sex with another man, basically agreeing it's wrong, and at the same time, men exploiting other men sexually is not looked away from, it's very explicit and built into Khem's story. Each one of these things can be true in its way (there was homophobia, people did have to go with it, there was male on male exploitation alongside this homophobia), but when every explicit thing in this context is negative, while the one positive (the possible love story between Chat and Khem) remains implicit and optional at best, it feels like it unintentionally leans into the homophobic narrative. Take Brokeback Mountain for example. The environment in that movie is highly homophobic, prejudiced, rude and even violent about it. And while Jack and Ennis had a lifelong love story, they couldn't actually live it out in the open because of said homophobia. Ennis in particular would rather punch a guy, than admit Jack was the love of his life. And still, we got to see their love, we got to see that even with all of the societal hardships, it brought them warmth and comfort, and was a reason to risk a lot, even for Ennis, who was so acutely aware of the threat to their lives. I like that BBM was honest in depicting Ennis and Jack having sex, but at the end of it, even without those scenes, the love between them was enough of a counterweight, that it never felt like the movie unintentionally reinforced a negative view of what two men can have together. With MS, I feel like a homophobic casual viewer, who won't get that Chat and Khem saved each other through something that might be more than just friendship, could easily have their negative view reaffirmed.

All in all, I enjoyed MS. I loved seeing Mile and Apo acting together again, I missed that, and their chemistry is just as superb as ever. I'm not sure the movie, getting as distracted from the main relationship as it did, would have worked without their unique addition of beautiful acting and chemistry. So, I would recommend it to friends, but I guess I would also really love to see a better paced, edited and re-focused version of it. Shine, Mileapo's show that will follow in the footsteps of MS, might deliver that. I can't wait to see! ^u^

(if you're curious about any of my other Mileapo/Kinnporsche posts, you can find them here)

[comebackali]

top five figure skating routines of all time? not necessarily the best executed or scored but the ones that hit you the hardest <3

oh lmao this is gonna out me as a fake fs fan who's really only been following the sport for the last like... 8 years. there is not gonna be anything on this list before the 2010s, and these are all gonna be the most basic takes. we don't care. we like what we like. i don't know sports, but i think there must be smth about the first athletes you really follow that just makes them a cut above the rest and makes them stay with you forever. so here's that, for me.

allie's top five comfort figure skating routines:

1) tessa and scott's "moulin rouge" at the 2018 pyeongchang olympics:

nothing will ever be this, no one will ever be them. truly the greatest moment in Sport History. the greatest in choreography, in presence, in chemistry. the greatest warhorse, the greatest team of all time. and the best they've ever been!! being able to watch this routine get better and better and then have them preform it the best they ever had when the stakes could not have been higher. the music starts and i get chills over my whole body. also the hugs and kisses after, the moment they find out they win. nothing will ever top this moment for me. you truly had to have Been There Gandalf, that season, their comeback, to understand the euphoria of that moment. literally bottle it and sell it as crack tbh. (also scott mouthing along to "come what may" always makes me fucking EMO lol)

2) evgenia medvedeva's "anna karenina" also at the 2018 pyeongchang olympics:

imma be real with you bestie, this is not even close to the greatest ladies fs routine of all time, and yet it is the routine i end up rewatching the most. something about it. i think to myself, "it's time to rewatch evgenia medvedeva's anna karenina again" a few times a month. and like, it is beautiful. no matter how many times i watch it i am entertained and engaged the entire time by the weird ass swirly swirls. but the emotion, the stakes, the drama. it just makes everything better and more poignant. i watch the whole thing with my heart in my throat. the way she's full sobbing by the end of it, and knowing how it all turns out, just gets me man. 2018 was such a blessed, cursed time.

3) tessa and scott's 2008 world championship "umbrellas of cherbourg"

oh hey look, something from before 2010. in all seriousness all this list is telling you is that i am an ice dance fan first and foremost, and a tessa and scott fan before that. as far as comfort programs go this is probably my number 1. i've watched it so many times. i used to tell people it was my favorite figure skating routine, and watching it again now i'm like, based?? there is something so intoxicating about this routine. they are just little babies!! and the near kiss at the end always sends me into a tizzy. this routine has cast it's spell on me. i am it's humble servant.

4) piper and paul's "hitchcock" routine from 2014 world's:

i can't believe i almost forgot this one. THE CUNT!! THE CUNT!! who the fuck else doing it like these PSYCHOS??! paul's face at the end. literally no one has ever served more face. face card carding or whatever the kids say.

5) yuzuru hanyu's prince routine from 2017 world's:

i can't believe i'm picking (1) yuzu routine and it's this one. i oscillated so much between this one and "hope and legacy" which is obviously gorgeous and iconic, yet here we are. it was my first instinct so i'm going with it. but i have no explanation. he fucks up his quad sal and very nearly falls, adding a double on the end and still managing to serve absolute cunt. at some points you can barely hear the music over the sound of the screams. truly, performance of all time!! the stupid lil vest/pants combo. his cunty lil dance moves. he is truly in his element here. i love him sm.

honorable mentions: elizaveta tuktamysheva's "toxic":

many lesbians were created here

the shib's "that's life" from the 2016 grand prix final:

1000/10 for being hot and turning me bisexual

[jgroffdaily]

JONATHAN GROFF SETS 2025 BROADWAY RETURN WITH ‘JUST IN TIME’

by Philip Boroff

EXCLUSIVE: Newly minted Tony Award winner Jonathan Groff will play the 1950s and ’60s crooner Bobby Darin in a staged reading next month, ahead of a planned Broadway opening in spring 2025, people familiar with the musical said.

The reading of Just in Time will be directed by Alex Timbers (Moulin Rouge!). On Broadway, Tom Kirdahy and Robert Ahrens are set to produce the show, which tells the story of the short but eventful life of the popular performer, whose hits included “Mack the Knife,” “Dream Lover” and “Just in Time.”

Born Walden Robert Cassotto in East Harlem, Darin had rheumatic fever as a child that damaged his heart. He lived, he acknowledged, as if on borrowed time before his death at 37.

He led a new generation of swinging singers into the rock revolution of the 1960s. He also acted in movies, composed music, married the actress Sandra Dee and as an adult discovered that the woman he thought was his older sister was his mother.

“I went on YouTube,” Groff told reporter Elysa Gardner before a rehearsal of an early version of the show, presented as part of the 92nd Street Y ‘s “Lyrics and Lyricist” series in 2018. “I watched all these TV performances, from the beginning to the end of his career, and I was blown away by his versatility. The rock & roll and the standards, the dancing, the folk songs. The duets with George Burns and Judy Garland. His life was insane.”

Darin spawned many imitators, including Kevin Spacey, who played him in the biofilm Beyond the Sea. The ballad “Just in Time” was composed by Jule Styne with lyrics by Adolph Green and Betty Comden for the musical Bells are Ringing. It became a hit for Dean Martin, among others, who was in the 1960 movie adaptation directed by Vincente Minnelli.

Besides Groff, casting wasn’t available. The reading isn’t affected by the monthlong Actors’ Equity strike intended to pressure the Broadway League to improve its Development Agreement with the union. Actors will be working under a contract negotiated with the League of Resident Theatres (LORT), an association of nonprofit theater companies.

Although the reading will be in New York, it’s under the aegis of Signature Theatre in Arlington, Virginia, which is a LORT member.

In a charmed career, the 39-year-old Groff has performed in the Frozen films, the TV series Glee and three acclaimed Broadway blockbusters — Spring Awakening, Hamilton and most recently Merrily We Roll Along — each of which earned him a Tony nomination. (He won for Merrily.)

Groff was also the first Seymour in the hit off-Broadway revival of Little Shop of Horrors, produced by Ahrens, Kirdahy and Hunter Arnold. Andrew Barth Feldman is currently playing the role.

In his moving acceptance speech at the Tony awards in June, Groff spoke about his love of the Broadway community and how “musical theater is still saving my soul.” Just in Time will aim for multigenerational appeal, as the young Broadway star sings 65-year-old standards.

Since the pandemic, older audiences have been slow to return to Broadway. If Just in Time is well received, Groff may be just the man to help bring them back.

**

Source: Philip Boroff in Broadway Journal.

Jonathan led a reading of the show on 15 March 2024 after rehearsing for a couple of weeks with the cast. Details below:

[bibluebutterfly]

(New) Cannon/ Mostly Cannon Facts About Ozzie.

JMI's new livestream was today, and you can guess who watched it lol. Anyway, here's Part One if y'all want to check it out.

DISCLAIMER: Take all of this with a pinch of salt because most of this is just what JMI thinks. Also I came in 12 minutes late so I may have missed something. Now let's get to it.

Ozzie and bee get along relatively well. In JMI's words, "they have their moments" and "they know how the hierarchy SHOULD work." Interesting...

If Oz could play a role in a broadway musical he would probably be the Moulin Rouge ringleader. Though JMI thinks it funny if he played George Washington from Hamilton and he wish's Ozzie could've played Phantom, but he's too sexy. (Ozzie as Phantom? TAKE MY MONEY AND TAKE IT NOW.)

Oz could squish mammon in full form just because he is way taller. (but that's likely WITHOUT them using magic.)

Fizz and Oz wedding? JMI has no clue but if there was it would be fire.

The song Oz would listen to and repeat would be (and he sings this part so I don't know if it a song or lyric) "can't get enough of your love, baby" because in his words, Ozzie "can't get enough of his love". The SWEETNESS AAGGGHHH.

Ozzie and Lucifer PROBABLY get along well. As long as Oz does his job and they don't mess with each other, they really don't have a reason to hate.

Ozzie probably likes Xmas carols cuz they're catchy.

Fizz is an awful cook. In JMI's words (in the Ozzie voice), he's "so cute, so sexy, but can't cook worth a damn." I mean we knew that but the way I bust out laughing XD.

Ozzie's fav food is may be barbecue ribs and wings (cannibalism??) But that may be (and most likely is) JMI projecting.

If Oz were to give Fizz Flowers, they would be white and blue roses (JMI admits that is cheesy. Which yes, but it's oh so in character for the both of them XD).

JMI SAID IT'S CANNON THAT OZ DOES NOT HOW TO USE ELECTRONICS THAT IS SO FUNNY.

(NOT RELATED IN ANY WAY BUT HE SAID HI TO MEEEE AAAGGHHHHH.)

Oz probably likes cheese (though JMI DOESN'T.)

Not a fact but a fan said Ozzie brand cereal would be called Ozzie-O's and I love that.

If the Ozzie liking barbecue wings is NOT cannon, then he may be horrified to see his workers eating Chicken.

Oz still not big on valentines.

He and Fizz WOULD sing "Baby It's Cold Outside" but Fizz would likely change it to (and I once again quote) "nasty, nasty lyrics".

And that's it folks. Once again, JMI is awesome, we love him, and Ozzie still remains one of my favorite characters.

[oscar-is-wild]

when should i watch [insert musical here]?

feel free to add/remove/change anything

january

rent

moulin rouge

february

les miserables

la la land

sing street

march

the greatest showman

everybody's talking about jamie

april

my fair lady

west side story

may

the sound of music

june

mamma mia

mamma mia here we go again

newsies

july

hamilton

in the heights

august

hello dolly

oklahoma

september

grease

come from away

matilda

hairspray

october

cats (the 1998 version)

into the woods

sweeney todd

november

rocketman

chicago

december

tick, tick, boom!

the phantom of the opera

(you can move rent to here if you want to)