#i could only imagine timothee chalamet there and forced to do some kind of sick twisted wonka skit

[ofthewilderwest]

I think my ideal timeline is after The Muppets (2011) they actually revived the Muppet Show and Disney somehow loses the rights to the Muppets so they can act more unhinged so we could’ve seen beautiful commentary on pop culture events and wacky skits again. I have wonderful ideas for celebrity guests. Lin Manuel Miranda. Chappell Roan. BTS on the Muppet Show. Megan Thee Stallion. David Tennant. I need this.

[unwantedtomost]

it had been months — sebastian stan

sebastian stan x fem!reader

word count: 4,401 words

summery: it had been nine months since you and your first real long term boyfriend broke up. but as they say, time makes the heart grow fonder ... and it also made the lust build up.

warnings: angst, smut, thigh riding, cheating, kind of a breeding kink at the end, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

a/n: i have never actually posted a whole thing on here before, so i hope this goes well. i know my writing can improve, but it’s pretty good i would say. enjoy!

It had been months since you had broken up with your long-term boyfriend. Your first long-term boyfriend you had since you arrived to the Hollywood scene. Nine months, to be exact. The same amount of time it would have been to carry a child. A hypothetical child. The same hypothetical child that ruined your relationship in the first place.

“You don’t want kids?” Sebastian questioned as soon as you entered the shared apartment. The topic of children came up at dinner with your shared friends. You, offhandedly said: “God, no,” with a laugh, not giving it a second thought. Not till now.

“Not really,” you said as you unzipped your heeled boots. “I never really have, not since I was younger.”

“Never?” He asked, heart starting to beat heavier.

You looked up to him, concerned when you saw his face. It was the same face he had on every time you guys got in a face, mixed with disappointment, maybe even hurt. You smiled, trying to lighten the situation.

“Maybe not never,” you said, putting your shoes away. “But not at least for ten years, maybe even longer. I mean, I am only twenty-two. I would like a good life without children before bringing them into the mix.”

Your warm smile and calm demeanor did nothing to elevate the tension, something inside you saying it did the exact opposite. He looked serious and upset, a combination you never saw much.

“In ten years I’ll be almost fifty,” Sebastian states.

“So? Guys never really stop shooting out good rounds. All my parts will still be intact by that time too.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is it?” You were confused. Why was he acting like this?

“I shouldn’t be old enough to be the kid’s grandfather.”

Anger started to bubble up as well. This tone that he had made you pissed off. He was talking like you were stupid like you didn’t get what he was saying. The brassiness you had in general not helping your temper.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you started dating someone sixteen years younger than you,” you shot back.

Then the yelling started. Something that could have been a deep, meaningful conversation (one that frankly should have been had way before this point) turned into a full-blown fight. You both started going in at each other, picking at old scabs that you knew would hurt. That was the point, after all, you just wanted to hurt each other. Because you were mad and upset, you guessed, but by the end of it, you weren’t even sure.

The fighting ended two hours later, you sat, slumped on the couch, huffing. You tried to catch your breath from all the yelling. Your throat was hoarse, your cheeks sticky from dried tears.

“It seems like we’re not gonna work out then,” you said, numb.

“Seems so.”

And you left that night, grabbing nothing but your phone before making your way to your closest friend’s house.

After that, you cried for two months straight. You really thought that Sebastian was endgame. That you would be together forever. That you would be happy. Ever since you caught sight of him at your first audition, you felt that he was the one. Then the universe laughed maniacally as it showed you just how fucking wrong you were.

In the past nine months, you had seen him approximately sixteen times, most being in passing, a few being at parties, and one time being at a coffee shop that you both loved. You started to frequent it less after the breakup, too scared to bump into him. Little did you know, he was doing the same thing. The day you two saw each other was both of your first times in three months.

It was all stupid small talk until it wavered, forced laughs and fake smiles fading as the reality of the situation simmered in.

“Look, y/n—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted. You knew what he was going to say, and you didn’t want to hear it. You simply couldn’t. “It was nice seeing you again, Sebastian. I hope you have a good life.” You took a few steps before turning back around for a moment. He looked at you like he was expecting you to run into his arms and make everything go back to normal. “And I really hope you meet a girl that can give you what you need.”

He tried to reach out to you, but you wouldn’t let him. You simply walked away and left him, alone. That was the last time you had spoken to him.

It was five months after the breakup until you let your friends talk you into going out again. And that night you had run into none other than the Timothee Chalamet. Numbers were exchanged then the next thing you knew, you were naked in his hotel room. After that, you went through a bit of a “hoe stage.” Every two weeks you were on a cover of TMZ, E!, or any other celebrity gossip magazine that existed with a “possible new thing.” The people ranged from Tom Holland to Madison Beer, and no one knew what was true or not. After the first few batches came out, you stopped giving a shit. You were allowed to rebound with whomever or however you wanted to, and you were taking full advantage of that.

You were so busy juggling so many people that you hadn’t even thought about Sebastian. Not till right now. Your eyes catch his from across the ballroom that you’re currently in. Your pulse quickens rapidly, you feel like you might even faint. If it wasn’t for Timothee’s hand on your waist, you were sure you would have collapsed on the spot. You watched as Sebastian’s jaw clenched just like it did whenever you did something he disapproved of. Just like it did every time he gave into himself and read one of those stupid gossip sights and saw you all over whatever arm candy you had chosen for the week.

“I’ll be right back, okay babe?” Timothee said, kissing you on the cheek. He waited for you to nod before making his way to one of his friends.

You don’t know what to do and those beautiful blue eyes you fell in love with all that time ago refuse to leave yours. You feel like you want to cry, or scream, or throw up, but you know that you shouldn’t actually do any of those things. You’d draw attention and you don’t want any more people talking about you.

Luckily, one of your best friends, Elizabeth, pulls you into a tight hug and brings you back to earth. Her body feels warm and it makes you feel safe, the smell of her strawberry shampoo bringing you comfort.

“I know,” she said before you spoke. “I saw. Are you okay? I’ll leave with you right now if you want to.”

It takes you a minute to process everything, and even though you’re running everything through your mind, nothing really sinks in.

“I’ll be fine,” you say with conviction, though you don’t know if it’s true at all. “Leaving wouldn’t accomplish anything.” You stop talking for a minute before smiling at Elizabeth. “Now, let’s go give the people what they want and take some pictures together.”

It had been two hours and the event was finally coming to a close. No more than forty-five minutes and the place would be cleared out. With that knowledge, you went to go take advantage of the free bar stocked up with expensive liquor. After schmoozing with people you did not even want to interact with, you deserve it.

“Two shots of tequila and a rum and coke, please,” you say to the rather cute bartender, shoulders slumping.

As soon as the two shot glasses were in front of you, you downed them. It burned like hell and you could only imagine the ungodly face you made. You tried to chase it with the rum and coke, but it didn’t help much. You heard a gruff voice beside you order something, one that was very familiar. When you heard a chuckle, you knew for sure who was right next to you. You froze again, that same dizzy, sick feeling coming back. You turned your head slowly to see those big blue eyes for the second time tonight, your heart surely beating loud enough that anyone in a mile radius could hear it.

“You look beautiful tonight, y/n,” Sebastian said, leaning against the bar, facing you.

“You do too,” you blurt out. Face turning red after you realized that you’re fucking stupid. “I mean, you look—shit. You look very nice, Seb—Sebastian.”

You’re so flustered and red, you want to simply sink into the floor. For a moment, you wonder why he isn’t acting the same way. It could be that he had already had some to drink or maybe he was just better at controlling his emotion. And the thought that makes dread flow through you is that maybe he is just over you.

“Are you going to an after-party?” He asks, sipping from his glass.

“I don’t think so,” you say. You were supposed to go to one with Timothee, where you were finally going to announce that you two had become official, but now you just want to go home. “Are you?”

“Probably not,” he said simply. “I’ll just have a few more of these back home and go to bed.”

“Drinking alone is no fun,” you say, hinting. You know what you are trying to get across but you don’t know why. It’s like your mouth was moving before your brain could understand what you were doing.

“It’s not ideal,” he said. “But I really don’t have a date to drink with, unlike you.” He pointed towards Timothee talking to a director you hastily met.

“He’s not my date,” you shot out. “I mean, he is, but we’re not like, dating.” Why the fuck are you talking!?!?

“It’s none of my business,” Sebastian said. He didn’t sound mean, he sounded like he was trying to comfort you.

“I know … but we’re not … if you were wondering.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on your elbow. “It was nice to see you again, y/n.”

He turned to start walking away but you called after him, making him turn back around. “Wait!” Once he was facing you, you felt like you were in a movie. “I could go for a drink.”

Sebastian smiled but his eyes dismissed you. “What are you doing, sugar?” He warned.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “But don’t shut me down.”

With a shared smile, he took your hand and you both left the party. On the car ride back to his apartment (that used to be your apartment), you thought briefly about how you would explain this to Timothee in the morning. Then you turned off your phone so you didn’t have to feel guilty if he decided to text you. Neither of you spoke much on the way. His hand never left its place on your thigh before you were finally there.

When he opened the door, you stumbled lightly into the apartment. Sebastian caught you by wrapping his arm around your waist. He lightly sat you down on the chair by the entrance (the same one you had sat at nine months ago). Once he had closed the door and put his things down, he came back to you to help slip off your heels.

“Are you already drunk?” He chuckled.

“No, just a wee bit tipsy.”

“Your ‘wee bit’ is usually a lotta bit.”

“Not this time, I really mean just a wee wee bit.” You suddenly burst out laughing at the fact you just said wee wee, giving away the fact that you are indeed close to being drunk.

“Maybe you don’t need anymore to drink,” Sebastian said.

“C’mon, Sebby, take that stick out of your ass,” you say, making him laugh. It makes you feel lighter like you weren’t fucking shit up again. Like you weren’t making a mistake you would regret in the morning. 

You watched as he made his way into the kitchen, pouring both of you a glass of red wine. Your favorite and most expensive red wine, the one that you had left at the apartment after the breakup. You wondered if it was the same bottle, or if he had done the same thing he was doing with you with another girl. When he came back, he handed you the glass which you placed down on the coffee table, realizing you were still in a designer white dress that you didn’t own.

“Shit,” you muttered after your realization.

“What is it?”

“This isn’t my dress.”

His eyes wandered down your figure as he thought. “You can take that off and I can hang it up for you. I’m sure there’s something here you can wear.”

You nodded before he was walking towards the bedroom, the one you once shared. You followed after him through the small hall. You looked around the room, noticing how boring it looked now. None of your decorations you had were up anymore, but the small mural you once painted in the middle of the night was still in full view. Did he think about you every time he saw it? If he did, why didn’t he just paint over it? 

Sebastian placed one of his shirts (that was your favorite one to wear) and a pair of shorts you had thought you lost on the bed.

“Well, you can get changed in here,” he stated before going for the door.

“Actually,” you called out, stopping him from leaving. “Can you unzip me please?”

He paused for a moment before nodding, slowly making his way back to you. The room went silent as he softly collected your hair and moved it to one side. Heat started to rise through your body at the close proximity he held. His hands grazed your shoulders momentarily before he steadily unzipped the expensive dress. You caught his eyes in the mirror in front of you, your cheeks immediately burning red. He finished unzipping the dress before helping you slide it off your arms. You had to cover your breasts with your arm since you hadn’t worn a bra. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen your body before, he knew his way around there better than you did, but not covering yourself just felt inappropriate. But, to be fair, the entire situation felt inappropriate. The dress fell to a pool around your feet, leaving you in nothing but a pair of lace black underwear, ones that Sebastian had bought for you one month before you broke up. You stepped out of the dress, eyes never leaving his. He bent down to pick it up, blue orbs never leaving your eyes.

“I’ll go lay this on the guest bed,” Sebastian said plainly before leaving the room and closing the door.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you let your arm fall. Even though you hadn’t even had a conversation with Sebastian in six months, being in that moment felt more intimate than anytime you had sex with Timothee—or anyone, for that matter. You pulled on the worn-out gray tee shirt that vaguely had ‘Coca-Cola’ printed across it before going out to the living room where you found Sebastian sipping on his wine, now dress in an old tee and grey sweatpants.

The next hour felt like a blur, it was filled with giggles and stupid comments. By the end of it, the wine bottle was empty and you two were officially wine drunk. Now, you were slumped on the couch (the one that you picked out), leaning towards Sebastian, hand dancing along the cushion space between you two.

“Have you realized we never had a goodbye?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“What do you mean?” He asked, not wanting his guess to what you were talking about to be right.

“I mean, we had a fight and I left then we were done. There were no ‘this is for the best’ speeches or attempts at a goodbye kiss. One day there was an us and the next it was … nothing.” You looked up at him, an innocent yet quizzical look on your soft features.

“We don’t have to talk about this,” he said.

Not this shit again. “I know,” you said, “we don’t have to talk about anything. We’re not together anymore. We don’t even need to acknowledge each other’s existence anymore. But tonight, you did, and now we’re on your couch.”

“I don’t—” he started, but you wouldn’t let him finish.

“We don’t have to talk about it then. But, I do have another question. Did you ever fuck anyone here?” The words flowed out before you could think any longer, nothing but courage and alcohol running through your body.

“What?”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory, Sebastian. I just want to know if you ever fucked someone in my—our—this place.”

His eyes bore into yours as he spoke, voice sharp and clear. “No, y/n, I have never fucked anyone in this place. No one but you.”

That answer made you happy. This place, your place, was still pure. No random hookups had tramped through the place where you lived.

“Good,” you accidentally said out loud, making him upset.

“Why does it even matter? It’s not like you weren’t fucking those young things you were all over in public.” He started to get angry at the thought. “Who are you to question me about my sex life after you broke up with me then pranced around tabloid covers for months with different people each week?”

“Because this was our house, I just want to know it wasn’t tainted by blonde bitches with names you didn’t even remember in the fucking morning.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but you’re the only blonde bitch I’ve fucked.”

Suddenly, your hand was moving and your palm was connecting with his face. It shocked both of you, making you both freeze in place. It took ten seconds before Sebastian grabbed the wrist you hit him with, yanking it so you were closer to him. So close you could feel his breath on your face.

“Slap me again and see what fucking happens, I dare you,” he spit out.

Then your heart was in your ass as your stomach erupted with butterflies and your panties soaked with arousal.

It was almost like you lost all control over your body as you smashed your lips against his. Your hands went to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and tugging at the hair there. The intentional scruff on his face was harsh against your smooth skin, but it only elevated your pleasure. Sebastian’s hands went around the sides of your neck, one kind of cupping your face while the other was closer to the back to pull you closer. You felt like you needed to get closer to him, get as close as possible. You needed every single inch of him over every single part of yourself. Your leg swung, straddling him.

Without thinking, you rutted yourself against his thigh, a guttural moan coming from your lips as you did. It’s not like you hadn’t been touched in a while, you just got fucked a few days ago, but you hadn’t experienced something as hot as this in so long. It was rushed and needed, you felt like you would die if he stopped. Your hips absent-mindedly grinded down against his thigh again.

“Fuck, ride my thigh baby,” he ordered. You listened, slipping into your old ways. You continued to rut against his thigh as you kissed. He knew you were getting close by the moans you were letting out into the kiss. He pulled away from your lips, watching as you were losing yourself. “I want you to cum for me, sugar.”

Your hips slowed as your mind raced a mile a minute. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you cum from just his thigh. What would that do to his already inflated ego? It sounded like bullshit to give into him.

“No,” you mumbled out, your hips threatening to halt their movement.

“No?” He repeated.

You sat there for a minute, silent as his eyes frantically studied your face to see what the point was. He wondered if you wanted to stop, he would understand completely, but he knew that wasn’t what it was by the way you keep clenching your thighs together. Sebastian smirked as he realized what was really happening. He grabbed your hips and started to push you down on his thigh. The problem was that you wanted to cum, but you didn’t want to cum for him. Too bad he was determined on it.

You moaned loudly as he started to drag your hips. You were inching so close, the fact that you didn’t want to give in to the feeling made it feel like it was only becoming stronger. Your hands grabbed his old t-shirt as you frantically moved your hips back and forth. Your nose scrunched and your eyes shut tight, your mouth letting out a whisper of “oh fuck”s on a loop.

“That’s it,” you heard Sebastian say even though his voice sounded like it was miles away. “Cum like a good girl.”

Suddenly, all the pressure that was building up deep within your tummy snapped and you were on cloud 9. Your heat pulsed as you road out your orgasm, Sebastian's hands helping you immensely. It took a good minute of pants as you caught your breath before you opened your eyes and came back to reality.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” you muttered to him when you finally made eye contact again.

“I know,” he smirked. “Now be a good girl, sugar, and take off your pants.”

You questioned arguing with him more, but you decided not to. You wanted him, you wanted him so fucking bad. You stood up and pulled down your shorts, doing a little spin so Sebastian could marvel at how wonderful you looked.

“As beautiful as those look on you, darling, they’d look better on the floor.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you stripped out of the underwear as well, leaving you in nothing but an old grey t-shirt. You went back to your place on Sebastian’s lap, pulling him in for another passionate kiss. You felt like you were melting into him entirely as everything snapped back into place. Your hands roamed lower, palming him through his grey sweats. You smirked to yourself at the realization of how hard he was already and at the fact he wasn’t wearing boxers. He lifted his hips to help you pull down his pants. Just as you were getting ready to place his member in the place you wanted him the most, he halts your movement by grabbing your wrist.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom, y/n,” he warned. You frowned, upset that he had stopped you.

“I don’t care.”

“But you still have that IUD in, right?”

You grimaced because no, you did not. Your five years had run out two months ago and you hadn’t gotten around to making an appointment for a new one. You shook your head slowly side to side before he sighed. He went to pull you off of him but you stopped him by holding onto his shoulders

“I don’t care,” you repeated.

“Y/n, you know why can’t.”

“Why not?”

He looked at you in disbelief. “Besides the fact you could get pregnant?”

“I don’t care,” you said one more time. “I want you.”

He looked into your eyes, trying his best to decipher your intentions.

“Y/n …”

“Get me pregnant, Sebby,” you said, meaning it too. “I want you, I want your kids. Fuck, I want us back. I don’t care if that means kids and a white picket fence. I just want you.”

“Are you sure?”

In response, you slowly leaned down and your lips touched. It was nothing like the kisses you had shared preferably, it was slow and soft. He pulled you closer, finally letting you lower yourself down on him. You both let out loud moans as you sink down on his member.

It was like you had forgotten what making love felt like, probably because you did. In the past nine months since you had split, you hadn’t made love with anyone once. It was all just meaningless sex or hot fucking, but there was no love behind it. You didn’t love Timothee, you hadn’t loved any of your flings. Maybe it was because you never stopped loving Sebastian—you were almost sure it was because of that.

You moved up and down whilst Sebastian thrust up into you. The room was filled with moans, grunts, and praises from both ends. He started to kiss your neck as his thumb started to rub your clit. The multiple amounts of stimulation only brought you closer to your climax.

“I’m gonna, fuck—I’m close.”

“I know, babygirl,” he cooed. “Look at me.” You looked into his blue orbs, feeling your climax inching ever so closer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined out as your hips moved faster. “Cum inside me, Sebastian. Get me—fuck, god—put a fucking baby in me.”

With your confirmation, he flipped you on your back, thrusting harder. The hand that wasn’t toying with your clit interlaced with yours. Your grip on each other squeezed harder as you neared your finishes. You wrapped your legs around him as his hips started to stutter.

“Cum with me, baby,” Sebastian groaned.

You finally let the coil that built inside of you snap with his permission. Moments later, he busted inside of you, making you both yell out. He collapsed on top of you, trying his best not to crush you under his weight. You both panted for minutes before you finally spoke up.

“I love you,” you said. He lifted his head, looking into his eyes. “I never stopped.

“Neither did I,” Sebastian said. “Did you mean it, you want to have kids?”

“I want to do anything if it means I can be with you. Anything.”

[thesffcorner]

Little Women

Little Women is Greta Gerwing’s highly anticipated adaptation of the eponymous children’s classic written by Luisa May Alcott. We follow the March family: sisters Meg (Emma Watson), Jo (Saorise Ronan), Beth (Eliza Scanten) and Amy (Florence Pugh) and their mother Marmee (Laura Dern).

The film is set in two timelines: in the present, Jo is working as a tutor in New York, selling stories to the paper and sending all her money back home so she can help her mother and Meg care for Beth who is ill, while Amy has gone to Paris, in an attempt to charm the wealthy Fred Vaughn. In the past, we see the sisters trying to get by with their father off to fight in the Civil War, and meeting the nephew of their next door neighbor, Laurie Laurence (Timothee Chalamet).

It’s actually kind of difficult to explain what this film is about, both because of the dual timeline, but also because it’s very much a slice of life story. We are, for the most part, watching Jo and her sisters live out their lives, with all the heartbreak and joy that entails. While in the book all the sisters got more or less equal attention, the film really focuses on Jo and Amy as the leads, giving us the most time to explore their relationship.

I loved this film. It’s only the second film I’ve seen in my life (the first being Pride & Prejudice) where if you told me to put it on at any time I would. It was beautiful, whimsical, heartbreaking and so genuine, that I’m at a loss of words to describe it. Everyone in this film gives it 110%; it’s clear that Gerwing grew up with this story, just like I did, and loves this family and especially Amy March.

I have to commend Gerwing’s directing in this film, and I really, truly think she was robbed by not getting a best director nomination. The way she handles the camera is seamless; I never once felt like I was watching a movie, I was completely engrossed in the story. Every shot of this film, even the more artistic ones like the slow-motion tracking shot of Jo running after the carriage, felt like snapshots of someone’s life. Nothing in the film looked or felt staged; everything was lived in, from the streets of New York, to the March house, to and especially the clothes and hair on the actors.

One thing that I appreciated so much in this film was the class representation: the book heavily discusses poverty, being content with what you have, while also having the right to yearn for more. The Marches are middle class: they aren’t well off, and their father’s absence is felt, but they still own their nice house, and they still have a maid. But you can tell by their clothes, their hair, their rooms, that they are not well off; clothes especially repeat a lot in this film, with Jo wearing her one jacket constantly, and Meg having to wear her modest dress at all the parties. It’s a stark contrast to Mr. Laurence’s lavish house, which feels empty and cold even with all the finery inside. Amy even calls Laurie out on having nice hands; something I found very neat, especially seeing as she wants to be a painter and the first time she interacts with Laurie is after having her hands hit by her teacher.

Class isn’t the focus of the film though; it’s just something that informs the world these characters live in. Even the feminist aspects, which are more overt are still just that; facets of the characters. The sheer fact that there are so many female characters on screen, and all different kinds of women was wonderful: from maids like Hannah, to ambitious, tomboyish Jo, who feels stifled by the gender norms of the time, to clever, and feminine Amy, who doesn’t like the patriarchal rules, but is willing to play by them, to Aunt March, who has gamed the system, but who would rather not help other women follow suit. There were 3 scenes that stood out to me the most: the most famous one, where Jo tells her mother she is sick of being told that all women are good for are love and getting married, but she would also like to not feel lonely; the scene between Jo and Meg at Meg’s wedding, where Meg tells Jo that just because her desires are different from Jo’s that doesn’t make them any less valid; and the scene between Amy and Laurie where Amy calls Laurie on judging her for wanting to marry rich, when that is literally the only way she could make any money, and even still it wouldn’t be hers.

Speaking of Amy, this film’s acting is outstanding. There wasn’t a single character I disliked, and more so, I found parts of myself in all of the characters, which is truly a testament to the writing. Laura Dern was great as Marmee even if she has only a few scenes to shine; she brings a strength and a warmth to Mrs, March’s character that was so believable, and I absolutely understood why the girls were the way they are, having grown up around her.

Meg was my favorite sister as a child, and I am a little sad she didn’t get too much to do here. I would have loved to see more of the courtship between her and Mr. Burke, but Emma Watson is great with these kinds of roles; she brings wisdom beyond her age to the character, and she really captured the duality of Meg who is as fleity and vain as Amy, while also being infinitely kind like Marmee and Beth.

Beth was a revelation in this film; Eliza Scanlen was excellent, and I truly felt she was as good and kind as everyone else did. She is at once shy and headstrong, still a child while being forced to be more mature because of an illness that she has no control over. I loved that she was always the one supporting Jo’s writing career, that she believed Jo could be a writer from day one, and how close the two were. Yes, I cried multiple times, like a baby.

I have to give some shout-outs to the supporting cast before we get to our main trio: Mr. Burke was exactly what I imagined him as: kind and supportive, while still firmly a man of his time. Mr. Laurence was pure perfection, also exactly as I imagined him. Luis Garel as Friedrich is the ABSOLUTE best idea Gerwing has ever had and I refuse to even entertain the idea of book Friedrich now. And finally Meryl Streep was amazing as Aunt March; she was the perfect amount of threatening and cold, while also clearly still loving her family.

Let’s start with Laurie. I won’t pretend like I didn’t have a crush on Laurie when I was young; we all did. Timothee Chalamet is perfect for this part; he has that boyish charm, the puppy eyes, the playfulness and vulnerability, while also being a convincing entitled asshole. Like Mr. Burke, Laurie is a man of his time; he is very judgmental, and constantly has to have his flaws pointed out by the sisters, but he is so genuine and charming at the same time, that I completely understand how they would all fall in love with him.

He has excellent chemistry with both Saorise Ronan and Florence Pugh, which is amazing, because this film made me love Amy March. Amy is a character I couldn’t stand in the book; she was first of all, too close to my age for me to like her, and second she is shallow, vain, fleity, spiteful and entitled. She is also a child, which is something that I as an adult can see, but couldn’t when I was her age. What she did to Jo was truly horrible; I don’t know if I would have ever spoken to her again, even after she almost died. What I appreciated about Pugh’s acting, and this film, is that she was still all these things even when she became older; she just also matured, and became a lot wiser and more compassionate.

Finally we have Jo. I love Jo; she is everything girls like me wanted to be (and still do); headstrong, passionate, brave, and resourceful. She isn’t perfect; her stubbornness makes her blind to a lot of things, and the mistakes she makes do cost her in the end, but she is just such a strong character, that I don’t think anyone could dislike her. I loved her relationship with her sisters, how she was still as immature as Amy, but in the opposite direction, and how she grew to be more temperate and less exclusive.

This film was truly a classic in the making. It will be one I re-watch constantly, and I am so happy to know that little girls (and boys) will get to grow up with this version of the story and love these characters as much as I and countless generations before me did. If you haven’t seen it go watch it; it’s perfection.

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