#intotheworld rp

[jamesstjesse]

Cooksey’s Jesse St. James Bumped to Series Regular

tubenews:

We’ll soon be seeing a lot more of wisecracking, tech-savvy detective Evan Davidson on NBC’s Cooksey. Jesse St. James, who has made recurring guest appearances on the hit series since 2014, will be a staple in the drama’s fourth season as it moves to its new home in New York. The change in location will bring a fresh take on the investigative team we’ve come to know as they merge with the unit on the East Coast.

St. James’ character has been a fan favorite since Evan’s introduction as the arrogant crime-solving prodigy who was thought to be a double agent throughout much of the show’s second season. Obvious scheduling conflicts made it impossible for this shift to happen sooner, but better late than never, right?

Filming for Cooksey begins late July 2017.

[itwnews]

So much for keeping this a secret!

MANHATTAN | Sources confirm that Jesse St. James and Sugar Motta formally tied the knot Thursday night. Where the nuptials took place has yet-to-be-revealed, but the happy couple was spotted making a big entrance to their reception at the American Museum of Natural History with daughter Viviana, whom they welcomed in February 2016. Some might say it’s an elaborate attempt to put those pesky booze-fueled bridal rumors to bed, but the pair was unabashedly in high spirits as they arrived to celebrate with family and friends that included West Coast A-listers and New York’s finest, still donning their wedding best. Real or ruse, it can’t be denied that the Motta-St. James union is unstoppable.

[intotheworldrp]

A REMINDER: 

General activity is spotty for everyone at the moment, which is why activity checks have been lax, however please remember it’s important to check in, either by sending a message to the main or in the ooc blog, as it makes it easier to know for sure who is around, even if they aren’t as active at the moment.

[fabrayonthetrax]

Dad Shorts Afternoon|St. Fabray

It didn’t take long to find herself at the St. Motta front door, thanks to surprisingly light traffic, at least for a Tuesday afternoon. Her own morning had been jammed with activities, from a walkthrough of her new office space with the designer, to meeting with potential clients. But the busy morning meant the rest of her day would be freed up for spending time with her best friend and the little girl she hadn’t seen in some time. The weather was on their side, impossibly sunny with a beautiful, gentle breeze; one of those ‘perfect New York days’ people in movies were always fawning over. Adjusting her shades, Quinn rang the doorbell and waited for Jesse and Viviana to appear.

[puckdaniels]

Like The Weather

Tagging → Noah Puckerman Time Frame → Early, Early Monday Morning | May 29th, 2017 Location →  15 Goldsmith Ave | Newark, NJ General Notes → Sigh.

Color of the sky as far as I can see is coal grey. Lift my head from the pillow and then fall again. Shiver in my bones, just thinking about the weather. 

He woke up that morning less surprised that he was in an unfamiliar bed and more so shocked that he had managed any sleep.

The sheets he was tangled in had stripes and they matched the curtains that we cracked just enough to shine the sun directly into his eyes. The woman pressed against his back was still asleep, he could feel it from the even rise and fall of her breasts against his spine and the moist warmth of her breath on his neck. This was probably the time to leave - he didn’t have to look at the clock to know that it was too early and he had only just finished making a dent in the mattress and a notch in the headboard a couple hours prior - and traffic probably wouldn’t be so bad. Plus he thought he was still in Queens, so...

This was most definitely the best time to leave. But he was exhausted.

Not just his body, but lying there as he was, warm and pressed against someone else, curling away from the sun and whatever the fuck else was going on outside that window, even the thought of moving beyond the end of the mattress was daunting. The sex was good, yeah, but the thing keeping him in this bed was the unappealing fact that he was going to have to place his feet on the ground, stand and… function.

Then, the woman behind him shifted and murmured something into the flesh of his shoulder and something in him clicked. As if an imaginary chart or something had hit a limit or quota, he was suddenly done with interactions - human ones that involved other individuals that breathed and had independent thought. That feeling pushed him out of the bed and had him washing his junk in her sink and getting the fuck out of there.

He didn’t even feel comfortable with the people saying excuse me as he stomped his path home - though in New York he didn’t have to worry about that often - and once he got back to his apartment, he was grateful that it was still early enough that Sara hadn’t snuck back in and everything was dark and quiet and familiar. He tore his clothing off, vowed to shower and wash his sheets even as he climbed into his bed and patted himself on the back for never putting away the pile of blankets and comforters he used this winter, even though it was hot as balls in his room.

“What the fuck is wrong?” he asked the ceiling. And of course it didn’t answer him. Just like he wanted.

[rberryonbroadway]

↳ INSTAGRAM:  @missrachelberry  uploaded a new photo:

Having some fun shooting promotional pictures for #burlesque with  @peterjblack  and the rest of the cast. Keep your eyes and ears open as we’ll soon be announcing the the dates for the show. #burlesquethemusical #peterblackphotography 

↳ 937 LIKES, 391 COMMENTS

view all 391 comments

[finncheesus]

I have really gotta be careful where I park my truck.. That was some kind of surprise when I went to lock up and found a hobo just hanging out back there. What’s worse is he was the one who got upset about it. 

[sirenhummel-blog]

↳ INSTAGRAM: porcelainblackbird uploaded a new photo

All these food trucks just about gave me a heart attack. How can I choose just one when there were so many good choices?! I’m going to be in a #foodcoma for the rest of the day. Great food, phenomenal music. General fun to be had in the name of a good cause. It could only mean one thing. ARTJam ‘17 was a smashing success! #ARTJam #supportthearts 

↳ ♡ 382 likes, ✐ 50 comments

officerkaidenwalsh I told you if you ate that much food, you would shock your body into a coma. porcelainblackbird Oh shut up, lol. It was worth it.   view all comments

[sugarlucille]

Adventures with Vivi are beginning to get a lot more exciting now that a certain little honey bee doesn’t spend 75% of her time napping. However, we will never reach our full adventure potential unless she stops claiming the attention of every single person she meets. It’s hard to get anything done when everyone around her is melting. 

[franklybritt]

YOU’RE MY FAVORITE PERSON: Sugar Motta + Jesse St. James - Into the World RP

“So, what kind of mermaid are you? Disney or the kind that wants to lure me in and drag me to the bottom of the ocean?”

“Definitely the second kind. I’m not the kind of mermaid who would abandon her entire life for a total stranger. I’ll bring you to the bottom of the ocean with me, and we’ll figure out the breathing underwater thing later. Maybe I could keep you on an island until we figure that out.”

“I had no idea you were such a romantic.”

“Only for you. But if you start telling people about it, I really will have to drag you to the bottom of the ocean.”

[jamesstjesse]

Brunch Over Business

Tagging → Jesse St. James [with Cole Kingston & Viviana Rose] Time Frame →  10:45 a.m. | June 20, 2017 Location → Motta-St. James Residence | Tribeca, Manhattan, NY General Notes → Brunch bananas and another career shift

It was the rare occasion that a late night meant a late morning, and Jesse was thankful he was able to catch up on some sleep. He actually had the energy to eat more than a bowl of cold cereal and tend to Viviana’s needs. Getting up when he heard her babbling in her crib, Jesse had taken her downstairs to get food going, cooking oatmeal for himself and picking out some past favorites for the little. A spoon for him, a spoon for her--they’d done this routine before. He’d be done in time for the Skype meeting with his agent at 11:30. Or he would have been if the sixteen-month-old Motta-St. James wasn’t rejecting her dining experience like the little princess that she was. He even had to start his oatmeal all over after the first batch overcooked.

No avocado. No peaches. No pears. No applesauce. No blueberries. No cottage cheese. He was running out of options and from her whines in the high chair, Viviana was running out of patience. One cup of yogurt and half of the last banana on the counter later, she was pacified, lips pursing and smacking with each baby bite offered from the super small silver spoon. She was cute, that much couldn’t be denied. Cute and difficult. A spoon for him, a spoon for her; back and forth, nearly in a rhythm until it was broken by the ring of a video call coming through on Jesse’s laptop that was on the table in front of them.

“Shit,” Jesse said, checking the time again on his phone. “Ooh, you didn’t hear that.” He’d been so busy trying to get Viviana to eat something for breakfast, he didn’t realize how much time had actually passed. What felt like ten minutes had been close to forty-five. He hadn’t even changed out of his pajamas, a pair of red sweatpants and a gray shirt that was now smudged with yogurt. How was it that her food ended up on his clothes?

It was just Cole anyway. He could handle the sight of a young, handsome, slightly disheveled father even if he’d probably have some choice words about it. Jesse answered the call, turning away to move the high chair closer to where he’d be sitting for the video chat.

“My God... the wedding was less than a month ago, and you’ve already let yourself go,” Cole quipped as his client appeared on the screen, shifting the laptop for a clear view.

Rolling his eyes, Jesse sat back in the chair, coming face-to-face with his agent. “I didn’t realize I was being evaluated. I might have freshened up.”

“You know by now to always be prepared. Where is Sugar, by the way?”

“She’s here. We started the day a little later than planned, so...this is brunch,” he explained, turning at the sound of Viviana’s call of “Daddy” to find her trying to worm out of the high chair.

Cole had two kids at home, but it had been some time since they were in diapers. “Adorable...” he said, briefly watching Jesse interact with the toddler as he stirred a bowl of oatmeal. “However, we do have some business to discuss.”

“Cooksey?”

“Cooksey,” Cole confirmed. “They want an answer by the 28th. The meeting has already been penciled in, and there’s a plane ticket to L.A. with your name on it.”

“They want me to come to L.A.? Why? What if I say no?” Jesse asked, taking the banana bowl from the table to scoop out more for the baby. Viviana’s hands reached for her father’s as he brought another bite of food to her lips, trying to take the spoon from him that he wouldn’t let go.

“Sit down with the team, let them make their last plea. You know, people would be clawing to be in your position. One of the biggest shows on TV right now is courting you and you’re seriously considering saying no?” It was hard for Cole to believe it. Cooksey was critically-acclaimed, Emmy-nominated, a network’s Nielsen dream come true; and Jesse was treating it as if it was beneath him. “I trust your judgment, I do. You fought for the role in Galilei and made it to the top floor of theatre circuit because of your belief that you’d found something good.”

“And that’s what I worry will happen again,” Jesse admitted, “except this time I won’t be able to drop everything and get back to the stage because I’ll be tied down to another project.” That they were even having this conversation was a privilege and Jesse knew it. If this was happening even just five years ago, there wouldn’t have been any hesitation. Such was the struggle of being a relevant cross-platform hit. 

Just as Cole began to reply, Viviana’s tiny taps on the tray became full bangings of little hands as her voice picked up in volume, babbling a mix of words and gibberish. “I’m sorry, give me a second.” Jesse twisted from his chair and stood, unbuckling his daughter from her seat. Leaving behind an echo of child laughter, he bounded upstairs with Viviana on his hip and her bowl of breakfast in his hand. Quickly apologizing to Sugar as he delivered the small girl to their bed, he delicately set her food on the nightstand with a rushed explanation that he had to finish his meeting with Cole. “We’ve already crossed the line of proper business meeting etiquette, I think,” he said to the other man when he sat back down at the dining table.

“Tell me about it.” Cole’s exasperation was nothing new. “Jesse, just let me know if I’m wasting my time. If you wanted to do it, you would have already said yes...”

“Well, wait... that’s not entirely true. My life is completely different than it was when I first booked the show three years ago, and I didn’t think becoming a regular was something that should be taken lightly. I had to consider what that meant for me and my family.”

“Do you think I don’t--” “I want the job.” “--understand that--what? What did you say just now?”

“I said I want the job, Cole,” Jesse repeated as they were no longer speaking over each other. “I had to think about it, but I’m not an idiot. I mean, they’re moving the whole show to New York for me. It’s the least I could do.”

“Okay, you know they aren’t moving the show for you. Don’t be an asshole,” Cole laughed. “And please do not tell them that in the meeting.”

“Didn’t I just say I’m not an idiot?”

“I know you, Jess. You’d say it with a smile on your face.”

“And everyone would laugh, you know me.”

Cole shook his head. “I’m glad I’m not your publicist.” Part of him wanted to chastise Jesse for taking him through the ringer with this opportunity, but this wasn’t the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last. What couldn’t be denied was that Jesse always came through with the right decision for his career when all was said and done. “So you’re definitely in? I can pass along the message?”

Nodding, Jesse relaxed in his chair. The weight of pressure finally leaving him as he spoke. “I’m definitely in.”

Cole grinned. “Alright, it’s a deal. We can finalize everything when you get to L.A., and I’ll give them a call right now.”

“With me on Skype...?”

“No, I’m hanging up. Unless there was something else we needed to discuss?”

“Oh you know what, there is something,” Jesse said thoughtfully as he ran a hand through his hair that was once again getting long. “I’m thinking about shaving my head...”

The Skype call disconnected before Jesse could get the rest of the sentence out, and he rolled his eyes. A buzzing noise from a kitchen counter made him reach for his phone moments later, and he breathed a laugh at the message illuminating the screen from Cole:

DO NOT SHAVE YOUR HEAD JESSE.

[intotheworldrp]

A quick announcement: 

The news blog, Into The Gutter, is back! Follow along and submit relevant news stories and pics of your character, be it “pap” shots, or posts to further a plot. Blind items will also be posted weekly or as often as events occur in the group. As always, have fun with it, and be creative!

[fabrayonthetrax]

What’s In a Name?

Tagging → Quinn Fabray [with Kiran Basanti] Time Frame → Late Friday Evening | 06.09.17 Location →  Quinn’s Apartment | SoHo General Notes → When it’s too late to do The Most™

“How did I know I’d find you here?”

Quinn started a bit at the voice, deep from sleep with just a hint of amusement. Her attention shifted from the tablet in her lap and she dropped her legs from their resting place atop her coffee table when Kiran entered, settling on the couch beside her with a resounding ‘plop’.

“I could have sworn I left you sleeping,” she replied in lieu of a greeting, eyes narrowing when quick fingers swiped at the tablet, putting it out of her reach on the other side of the couch. “What are you doing?”

“Saving you from another three hours of staying up for absolutely no reason,” Kiran shot back, all charm with a big grin that had Quinn’s eyes rolling. “Come on, it’s late. And not even the good late you like when you’re actually working on something. But the other kind, where you get all zoned out and stressed. That’s normally when I find cookie crumbs between the sheets.”

Quinn couldn’t disagree with the assessment, irritating as it was. Her to-do list was as complete as it was going to get for the night. With construction on her new studio finally finished, the rest of the pieces were ripe for falling into place…as soon as she could settle on a name. Her thoughts were halted by the feel of Kiran’s hand, warm against her bare thigh as he gripped her leg in a gentle squeeze.

“Stop overthinking.”

She shot him a look. “I was thinking the right amount.”

He chuckled at that, small smirk and tufts of dark hair sticking up giving him a youthful appearance that was offset by his well-trimmed beard. “Is this still about the name? It can’t be that hard to come up with something.”

“It can’t just be ‘something’. It needs to be…perfect.” Perfection seemed to be taking its sweet time. Perhaps it was the stress or just sheer lack of creativity but Quinn was coming up short and feeling incredibly anxious about it. Not to mention insecure. It wasn’t like her to fret so much, and the newness of that emotion sparked a whole different layer of irritation.

Despite his teasing, Kiran was blessedly sympathetic to the situation and even with the eye-rolling, Quinn appreciated his company. Though, that was nothing new. Sometimes she wondered of the balance in their situation and where his benefit lay in all of this; they weren’t in a relationship. Even after a year, that much was clear.

At first she wondered if he was just following her lead, which seem to be the norm in these situations she found herself in—not dating, but selfish coupling—and Quinn wanted no part in that kind of setup again. Greediness at the expense of another, eventually it got old and the end was always the same. Left alone and full of an emptiness she attempted to fill with work and other nonsense until someone else came along, ripe and unsuspecting.

Eventually she realized it was something else, something genuinely lowkey, and the easiness of it all relaxed her. There was a difference between casual and careless, and Quinn was determined not to make that mistake again. She didn’t think ‘more’ was possible, not with anyone.

Not anymore.

And thankfully, expanding further on those thoughts weren’t necessary with Kiran, who was perfectly content with their arrangement. Dates here and there, with late night sleepovers sprinkled in between. In her world, where complicated and chaos reigned supreme, it was refreshing to have that still point, a space which required no dissection or overthinking.

Except tonight, apparently. The frustration of her work seeping into other facets of her life. The anxiety was beginning to be unsettling, and Quinn knew she was overdoing it, but supposed it was just a natural consequence of the project she was undertaking. More and more, the decision to venture out on her own, with her own company filled her with a nervous kind of tension she found unable to shake off, especially with this name business—

“You’re doing it again.” Kiran’s observation sliced through her jumbled thoughts and instead of casting him a glare, Quinn simply sighed. She tugged her glasses from her face and tossed them gently atop the coffee table.

“I know I’m making it harder than it should be, but I feel…stuck. My creativity is practically a desert right now, and I’m not sure why.”

“Maybe because you need it more than ever,” he offered with a shrug. “I think the more you want something, and try to force it, the harder it gets to you know, get it. But I know you’re brilliant, and you’ll think of something. You know how it is with inspiration, it comes from the strangest places.”

Rationally, she knew he was right, and though she wasn’t one hundred percent confident it was that easy, Quinn could always appreciate a good motivational speech. Plus, she couldn’t exactly afford to be picky, desperate for reassurance as she was. Still, she found her smile was easy and she shifted closer to his side, arm curling around his middle as his settled on her shoulders. “Why are you always so unshakably positive, you damn weirdo?”

Kiran laughed at that, a deep, rumbling sound that she cuddled closer to. “We can’t all be neurotic worriers, I guess. I don’t know, I feel like anything that means something to you, it’ll grab you eventually. Or you can just do what I did, and use a last name. Doesn’t even have to be yours. But ‘Basanti’s’ is already taken by a fabulous award-winning restaurant and chef, and I don’t wanna fight you for it.”

A raspy chuckle slipped from her lips, even as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah don’t worry about that, there’s no way I’m using ‘Basanti’. Or any last name. Including mine. I want it to be something separate. Something just for Quinn.”

“That’s fair,” he reasoned. “What’s important to Quinn? What’s your ‘aesthetic’?” He affected a posh British accent for the last word, the goofiness of it all making her laugh, despite the cheesiness.

“I know what concept I’m going for, but crafting something catchy from that is the problem. Maybe I just have to sleep on it.”

“Oh, so you were listening.”

Quinn shrugged. “It’s difficult to get work done when someone commandeers my damn tablet, so yes. Listening.” The tiredness of the day’s activities was finally catching up with her. But despite the exhaustion, she realized the good that came from sharing her thoughts with someone else other than the worrying in her head. The business of her business and its name had yet to be solved, but at least she wasn’t pressuring herself into an all-nighter because of it.  Deep down, she knew Kiran was right. The creativity would come to her. More than likely when she wasn’t stretched to the limit of her abilities.

Feeling grateful for his calm words, Quinn tilted her face towards his, full lips slanting over his own plump pair in a chaste kiss, humming briefly when she felt his smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, following it up with another kiss.

Quinn slipped from his hold then, scrambling off the couch and to her feet. “Just so you know, you owe me breakfast and you won’t use my late-night anxiety session as an excuse to sleep in.”

She held out a hand to a laughing Kiran, slender fingers slipping through larger, darker ones as she tugged his feet, their hands still joined as they headed towards her bedroom. “Yeah well, I guess I can be nice to you. Even if you did wake me up.”

[puckdaniels]

Brooklyn Boulders | Puckleberry

The place was bigger than he expected, but it still had that homey gym musk he had been missing for the past couple of months. After checking with the front desk that his and Rachel’s spot on the wall was secure, he loitered a little, exchanging glances with a lady in a sports bra who looked as if she was waiting for someone, too. He couldn’t be much to look at today - he had shaved, but his hair was still far too long and curly, flopping into his face in a way that suggested that he might need to tie it back from his face - a feat that he had vowed not to do ever again since those first couple years of college. And he felt skinny; sure, his arms were still toned from the constant lifting and tool work he did at his construction gig, but he hadn’t been to the gym in so long and to see so many men walk back who obviously had... he could tell the difference. And he didn’t like it. Glancing away from the woman and back to the door, he wiped the scowl off his face when he saw someone familiar stroll in. “Hey, Ms. Berry.”

[rberryonbroadway]

Who: Hugo, Peter & Rachel Where: Hugo’s sisters apartment When: Saturday 3rd June 2017

One Night Only.

The time has come I'm flying away Mouth is numb Heart don't know what to say And although I'll be out of sight, dear Know I'll be right here Right here forever, ever, ever, ever When you look to the night skies Don't think of goodbyes Think how I'm right here ever, ever, ever 

Rachel never understood why you threw a party when someone was leaving. What exactly were you celebrating? Was it that a person was leaving or that they were starting a new chapter in their lives. Were you wishing them good luck through the medium or music, food and drink? Or were you saying get lost, we'll be fine without you? It was something she could quite figure out. People seemed to be having a whale of a time and yet when she smiled it reach her eyes. It was the last place she wanted to be.

This was the big send off for Hugo and she'd been dreading it for the past few weeks. Rachel wanted to be selfish and spend this last night with him alone, not a room full of people. Her eyes scanned the party goers for signs of the man of the hour, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Making her way to the kitchen she looked inside, people were busy talking and making drinks, but no Hugo.  She saw someone head out onto veranda and went to follow, but she stopped when she heard voices.

“Shouldn't you be in there with your well wishers? It's a little rude for the man of the hour to be hiding out here.”

That was Peter, she'd know that voice anywhere.

“Don't feel like celebrating,” a voice came in reply. Hugo's, there he was. Not wanting to impose on their conversation she listened. “I know people mean well and they want my last night here to be memorable but,” he paused, “I don't know.”

“You're having second thoughts?”

“Yes..well no.. well... yes. Ugh, I don't know. When I applied for the job things were different, I had my sister and niece here, but nothing else. I'd moved here to help her after her divorce and be here for Kissi, but now..”

“Now there are complications.”

“Exactly. I have new friends and colleagues I actually like for once, and a woman who.” Rachel heard him sigh and she frowned, a woman who what?  “Y'know, if she asked me to stay I would.”

“She'd never ask you to do that.”

“I know, and that makes me want to stay even more.”

“But you can't.”

“No. No I can't.”

As she listened she could imagine what was happening, Hugo was running his hand through his hair, pacing back and forth while Peter stood watching him.

“Have you tried talking to her?”

“Yes we've talked, we've talked until we're blue in the face and we come to the same conclusion each time. I go to D.C, she stays in New York, we're both doing the things we love..”

“Except each other,” Peter interjected and Rachel almost choked at his words.  

Hugo said something but Rachel didn't quiet hear the first part as people walked passed talking and laughing. “...said we're going to be friends.”

“So you're not considering a long distance relationship?”

“We didn't see how it would work. Rachel's on the final stages of rehearsals and will be thinking about tech soon, I'll be working long hours in the lab. It's just not possible.”

“It's only impossible if you let it be. You're only a couple of hours away, you can video chat, text, phone, the world isn't as small as it once was.”

Rachel knew Peter meant well, but she couldn't let this conversation go on any longer. It was painful to listen to and she could tell from the tone in his voice Hugo was struggling with it too. Stepping out through the doors she forced herself to smile, “There you are, I've been looking for you everywhere.” She walked over to the boys, wrapping her arm around Hugo and giving him a quick kiss, “I was starting to think you'd run off and left me behind.”

“That's tomorrow,” Hugo  tired to joke.

“Well I'll leave you two to it.” Peter made an exit before anyone could stop them.

Rachel was about to speak when Hugo pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers, his fingers curling into her hair as he kissed her. After what felt like forever he breathlessly pulled back and smiled, “We should leave before anyone tries to stop us.”

“Leave? Hugo, this party is for you. You're friends they...” He silenced her with another kiss, holding her tight against him. Rachel's knees felt week and her thoughts became fuzzy, all she could think about was his lips and the way his hand moved down her side and came to rest on the slight curve of her hip.

“Our friends will get one hell of a show if we stay here,” he muttered, kissing her neck softly.

“Hugo,” she whispered, trying to gain some kind of composure, “We should..we should talk.”

“No,” he said as he took hold of her hand, talking wouldn't make this any easier, “We should go back to yours.”

[finncheesus]

SOCIAL MEDIA CHALLENGE --- finn hudson’s instagram