#my broadway boo

[icantwordsbecausereasons]

Oh I am so happy for them! Also, I believe it’s been confirmed that they are engaged!!! 💍

Ahhhhhhh!

[imagination-phantom]

It’s ok to have a moment~

*Cries* I can’t he just he needs a friend. I volunteer as tribute!!!

Then like a second later he’ll make a sex joke an I’ll smack him upside the head. And everything will go back to normal everyday bullshit.

Today’s Wip bam boom alakazam!

^^^ lol that joke old yet?

[spotted-owl-sketches]

Ch4: [first][prev][next]

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stars Align

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Steve Rogers was one of the biggest stars of Hollywood’s Golden Era. For years, his disappearance from the spotlight has been a mystery, that is until he walks right into your life. (Old Hollywood AU/1960s AU)

Characters: silverfox!Steve Rogers, reader is named 'Satyr' for clarity

Note: I enjoy older music and musicals. I tend to drift into this idea whenever I'm enjoying some and I finally said fuck it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

1965 

Satyr 

"Oh, Margie, can I get some of that lipstick?" The blonde with crystal blue eyes nudges the scarlet-headed vixen tracing her lips with a deep shade of crimson in the mirror crowded with women in sticking and short skirts. 

"You should've thought ahead, Carla," the redhead pops her lips. "We're friends up until that curtain opens." 

"Oh, boo. It's lipstick." 

"It's mine," the other woman retorts and slides the lid on the tube with a smug smirk. 

You overhear from the corner where you move your feet and try to recall the choreography. It's made more difficult with the cacophony of voices and the crush of bodies fogging the backstage with heat. Most are more concerned with the beading in their bodices or the curls across their brows. 

You didn't think of any of that. You spent your scarce savings on the bus ticket and kept the change to eat for the day. You look down at yourself, wondering if you've missed something important. The advert said 'dancers needed' for an open audition. It didn't say anything about sequins or eyeliner. 

The more you look around, the more it feels like a mistake. Your mother is right. It’s a pipe dream. You’ve spent all your money on coming to New York to embarrass yourself. 

But no! This is your one chance at Broadway! Broadway! You still can’t believe it. All your life you dreamt of being on a stage, and somewhere deep down, a screen. Even if the very idea makes your stomach bubble. The singing, the dancing, the stories... you wanted to bring that same fantasy to girls like you. 

There’s not much room on the silver screen for musicals anymore but the city is thriving. Or so you read in the magazines your mother calls rages. 

“One minute, ladies,” the stage manager calls from the edge of the curtain, “shoes.” 

The other women clamour, clicking and tapping around in their heels. You peek down and wiggle your toes in your soft-toed flats. They’re farm shoes. Scuffed from you dancing on the swept barn floor. 

You line up in order of the numbers pasted to your chests. The paper curls at the corner from your previous stomping and the crinkle is slightly agitating. You are made even shorter as you’re the only auditioner without at least a few extra inches under her heels. 

The stage manager blows a whistle and orders the first girl out, swirling his finger to herd you out like sheep. “Out, out, out. Line up. Don’t waste time.” 

As you go to pass the dour man and his tin whistle, he stretches his arm out and you bounce off of it. You step back into the woman behind you. She grunts in surprise. 

“You, where are your shoes?” 

“Sir? I have shoes--” 

“Heels,” he snaps his fingers in frustration, “those are not going on my stage. Take them off. Dance on your toes!” 

You blink and your lip trembles. You’re mortified. He grabs your arms and yanks you of the way. “You got ten seconds to get those off and get in line.” He lets you go and points the other woman out, once more barking the same sentiment. 

You don’t think. You just do. You tear off your flats and leave them forgotten on the floor. You slip in your stockings and stop again. You roll them down and kick them away, swiftly running out to find your place in line. 

The woman next to you with the flaxen blonde hair with straight-cut bangs mutters something and laughs. You don’t pay her any mind as you dig down to recall the choreography. You got this. If you can remember Ginger Rogers famous Swing Time masterpiece, you can get this. 

Judith, the black-haired, prim-lipped instructor who previously took you through the steps a grand total of once, comes to the front of the stage. The tin whistle blows and the chatter hushes. You peer between the bodies and see the panel of six sat along the front row. One of them must be the director, the rest you’re unsure. 

As Judith raises her hand in a silent count down from five, you remember to get on your toes. Your bare feet are frozen in the airy theatre. This is it. You’re about to dance for your life. 

As she closes her fist and the music begins to play from an old victrola, you fall into action. You elude the dancer next to you that goes to the left rather than the right and you focus on your posture. As you meld into the music, you disappear from the room and into your imaginary spotlight. You are back among the cattle and the sheep, watching you flail around in the moonlight. 

You are only brought back by the squeal of another. Further ahead, a dancer is on the floor. The stage manager blows the whistle and promptly orders her away. She gets up, limping as her shoe dangles from her ankle, and scurries with her face covered. 

You don’t stop. If you can ignore your father’s hammering and your mother’s hollering, you can get through this. Your eyes flick up as your body follows the recital in your head. There are two figures higher up, shrouded in shadow. You can’t make out more than their silhouettes. There sharp shoulders suggest two men, but why would they be sitting in on this? 

More are picked away from the crowd for missteps and trips and some every break into tears and run off of their own volition. The chaos adds to the beating of your heart but you can’t stop. Every penny you have depends on this. Your pride, not that it’s very much, is hanging from this fraying thread. 

As you continue along the progressions, one of the men in the back stands and his voice rolls through the music. The other remains and sits forward in his chair. The song plays on and your feet don’t stop. The steps feel more natural as the rows thin out around you. 

The victrola quiets as you hit the final step. You’re breathless but enlivened. The man in the back stands and follows the other’s departure at a calmer pace.

Judith begins her countdown and the manager shouts, “again!” 

Steve 

Steve Rogers follows the pin-striped tails of his companion down the back hall. It’s been a while since he’s been in a theatre. Yet, it isn’t his last visit that plays in his head. It’s those early days, when he was a spindly little stagehand, brushing wigs, fluffing capes, and moving scenery. Before simplicity was so damned depressing. 

Sam leads him along the back row as the stage stands empty ahead of them. His agent sits first before he can bring himself to do the same. It’s not just that creak in his knee, it’s the way it all feels so familiar but strange. It’s like going home and seeing a new family living in the same house you were raised in. 

“Looks like we missed the preliminaries,” Sam mutters. 

Steve puts his hands on his thighs as he pushes his shoulders wide. He squints. He can see the figures along the front row. Six of them; the usual, a director, the co-director, and the backers. He rubs his eyes as he tries to clear them and sighs. 

“Don’t say a word,” Steve grumbles as he feels around his jacket and dips his hand beneath. He slips the hard leather-bound case from his pocket and opens it on its tight hinges. He unfolds the glasses he only wears at the typewriter. 

Sam abides but not without a lingering look that makes him squirm. He’s already agitated. He’s not used to this yet. It should be like riding a bike, shouldn’t it? Ugh, this is a bad idea. 

“Relax,” Sam says, sensing his uneasiness. “This is day one, alright? No pressure. We don’t have to find nobody today. This is just... putting our toes in the pond. See what’s out there. This doesn’t work out, we can see how well Frank’s kid can dance. She’s cute.” 

“Sinatra? No way,” Steve growls. “I don’t want anyone famous. It’s the whole reason...” He trails off and shakes his head. 

“Well, keep in mind, these are amateurs. You’re not gonna find Hayworth here. Or anywhere, these days.” 

Steve glances over at his agent and sighs, “I was having dinner with Rita when you were still in diapers, kid,” he warns. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam waves him off as voices rise behind the curtain. “Looks like things are about to get interesting.” 

Steve plants his elbow on the narrow armrest and shifts in the seat. He doesn’t remember them being so uncomfortable. He remembers sitting in them for hours; for premiers, for awards shows, just for the hell of it. 

His chest flickers. He hasn’t felt that since the first time he faced a camera. It was different then. Things were still black and white. If Fred’s still got it, he must too. 

Why is he doing this? Why couldn’t he just stay in that house and be, not happy, but alone. Unbothered. Why now? Why did the itch start until his skin felt ready to split? He’s gotta try. He’s Steve Damn Rogers and he always gets back, it just took a little longer this time. 

A whistle blows and he crinkles his face. Ugh, the noise. That will be the hardest to get used to. When did he get so boring? Maybe when fun turned out to be so painful. 

Women flow out in rows. They arrange themselves along the stage as a woman stands at the front with a black blunt haircut. She watches them fan over the space. There’s a pause before another follows the third line back. Then another skitters out with no shoes and inserts herself into the empty space left between the previous dancers. 

He rests his chin on his fist curiously. He doesn’t miss the disarray that much. He remembers being behind those curtains and watching the hopefuls run off in tears. Sometimes, they took his handkerchief, other times they ran right past him. 

Why are those times easier to remember? Why do the shining ones, the ones in bright Hollywood lights, not excite him? No, no, don’t think of that. It’s not gonna be that way this time. This time, it’s his rules. His script, his movie. 

The music begins and his focus on the dozens of dancers. There’s almost too many to keep track of. Yet his eyes come back to that third row. The girl dancing on her toes in bare feat. She moves like silk or satin in the wind. So effortless. Yet everything else about her doesn’t belong. The way she moves is how one should onstage, but her beige dress and plain hair do nothing to make her stand out. 

A woman near the front trips and lands on her knees. She cries out as she’s ushered off. His eyes flit back to that girl with no shoes. She doesn’t even wince. 

“Ah, this is a wash,” Sam grumbles. “Look at them, a bunch of nobodies. Can’t even stay on tempo.” 

“How would you know?” Steve mutters back. 

“I got an eye for this stuff, don’t I? I represent the greatest actor in the world.” 

“Funny,” Steve drawls dryly. 

“I need a smoke. Let me know if anything interesting happens.” Sam stands and struts out. 

Steve remains. He pushes his glasses closer to his eyes as he leans forward. The women fade, all but one, that one. The one in the bare feet. It’s like she’s in another world. As he watches her, he feels liek he is too. 

The music stops. Her final pose is perfect. On beat, posture good, sharp. He rolls his tongue around. This could work. It could. He doesn’t need another... well, don’t worry about her. He needs someone to mold but not without substance. She can dance, that’s all he needs. The rest can be learned. 

He stands with one last look and leaves, his feet weighed down as the music begins again. He stops in the hallway behind the theatre and faces the door. He could sit and watch her for hours. No, he needs to get Sam. They’re not doing this again. He knows it’s her. It has to be. He doesn’t feel so... itchy. 

[icantwordsbecausereasons]

HOLY HELL THIS PHOTOSHOOT

IMAGES!!!!!!!!! HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[parmahamlarrie]

We are back! I was sick this month (boo) but it meant tons of time for reading and I've hopefully fallen back in love with it again! So many good fics this month, hope you enjoy!

Have Faith In Me || @stylinsoncity || 183.4k Age Difference, Fashion Assistant Louis, Baker Harry, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Pining, Light Angst This has easily become one of my favourite fics ever. The dynamic between the boys is precious, the angst didn't wreck me (you all know I don't do well with angst) and it was just thoroughly enjoyable! Do note the age difference, if that's not your thing.

Flash Back to Me || @mason-conaway || 73k Amnesia AU, Therapy, Established Relationship, Falling in Love (again), College AU, Slow Burn, Fluff and Light Angst I have been such a sucker for Amnesia AU's lately and this one was just so lovely! A different take on the trope and so fun while keeping the seriousness such a situation requires!

now I think that I could love you back || @maroonmoonlouis || 42.2k A/B/O, Princes AU, Royalty AU, Regency AU, Courting, Mating Rituals This one has stuck with me perhaps more than any other recently! The world this author created has sucked me in and stayed with me since I've read it. I would easily read every detail of these two's life together!

put a little love on me || @larrydoinglaundry || 29.4k A/B/O, Paramedic Louis, Single Parent Harry, Neighbour AU This one is a lovely cosy neighbours story with the softest, touch starved Alpha I've ever seen! A pleasure from start to finish!

Somebody's Got Your Trainers On (It's You) || @greenblueish || 28k Hospital AU, Doctor Harry, Nurse Louis, Exes to Lovers I restarted Grey's Anatomy and had to read this one! It is, in my opinion, better than Grey's (less angst, more Harry and Louis) and wholeheartedly a wonderful read!

On Thin Ice || @neondiamond || 16.4k Hockey AU, Olympics AU, Established Relationship, Winter, Secret Relationship Why I decided to read this in the middle of May? No clue! How I somehow missed Jess' fic when I'm president of her fan club? Also, no clue! But, I loved this and you will too, even in May/June!

just one look (and I fell so hard) || @disgruntledkittenface || 15.2k NYC, Broadway, Theater Lover AU, Meet-Cute I think this officially becomes the fic I want most to happen IRL. However, not sure I will ever go to theater alone. That might throw a wrench in my plans to find the love of my life.

reckless behaviour || @nouies || 13.5k Strangers to Lovers, KidFic, Injury Recovery, Footie Harry, Single Dad Louis

[godfrey-the-chaos-duck]

The Ducks Would Love Hamilton

In honour of me seeing Hamilton live tomorrow (!!!) here's some things a friend and I discussed last night about the DuckTales characters enjoying Hamilton.

• Fenton had a slight existential crisis when he was lucky enough to go to a show with the OG Broadway cast, because how in the hell does the guy playing Hamilton sound exactly like him (ooh, how very meta)

• Dewey's the first to discover Hamilton out of the family, and he does not shut up about it. Eventually everyone listens to the album, and while most of them seem to enjoy it, Dewey, Della and Webby are by far the most obsessed. Donald is not a fan, but gets dragged into the whole thing anyways.

• The kids use their dart guns for fake duels in the hallways. Scrooge not only allows this but encourages them (and also turns around so he can have deniability).

• Donald keeps getting woken up early by Della trying to learn the fast part of Guns And Ships. It takes her a while but she eventually gets there. 

• The next time Goldie comes over, someone (probably either Louie or Della) starts playing Say No To This over a Bluetooth speaker. Goldie, having never even heard of Hamilton before, is confused af, while Scrooge is blushing redder than his jacket.

• ^^ Because yes, as much as he hates admitting it, even Scrooge loves Hamilton. For starters, he's always admired the theatre (my hc is that he's a huge Shakespeare nerd since his youth). He also finds Hamilton's whole "determined immigrant" thing wildly relatable, and he also writes like he's running out of time. His favourite song is Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down) because y'know. Victory and all that.

• When it's announced that Hamilton is coming to Duckburg, everyone (understandably) flips out. Scrooge anticipates this, and buys tickets super early to guarantee the family gets good seats. It goes... Well, about the way you'd expect a night at the theatre with the Ducks to go.

• Everyone dresses to the absolute nines, even though it's not a particularly fancy venue - it's a big night for them all. Dewey, Della and Webby are actually in full cosplay, while Scrooge, Beakley, Huey, Louie, Launchpad and Donald (who was all but dragged there) are in fairly regular formalwear (the latter two are more along the lines of "business casual" but still).

• Everyone tries to keep a lid on their excitement so they don't get in trouble for singing along, and it kind of works.

• In the end, it's actually Scrooge that's the first to draw unwanted attention, for booing when King George enters to singYou'll Be Back. Something, something, historical hatred of the English monarchy runs deep for Clan McDuck.

• Because they don't wanna get kicked out of the Coolest Musical Ever To Exist (Webby's words), everyone just lip-syncs to the songs. This is exactly what I'm gonna be doing when I go, by the way.

• Webby cries during That Would Be Enough. Della cries in Dear Theodosia and Stay Alive Reprise (Donald even sheds a few tears during those songs, but he'll never admit it.) Everyone ends up a little emotional in Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story. 

• The car ride there (and back) was spent belting out the songs because they knew they couldn't in the theatre. Donald brought his headphones and sits in the back, resolutely listening to Nirvana or something. Am I adding this to the ever-lengthening list of fic ideas? Yeah. Is that a guarantee I'm actually gonna write it? Nope.

[hlficlibrary]

Hey! Do you have any good longer fics that take place in New York? I’m going there tomorrow and wanna set the vibe with my reading.

Hope you’re doing good! And thank you!

Hi, anon! Hope you're getting these recs in time! Have fun in New York and also you're very welcome!

Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

a yuzu grows in brooklyn by @stylinsoncity

harry is a recent implant in new york and a young chef opening a restaurant called yuzu. louis, a music teacher and broadway lover, has been around the block for a while. in a city that's so fast-paced, they're slow to catch on to each other.

Desperation Was My Sanctuary by @insightfulinsomniac

As a PhD student and transplant to New York City, Louis is struggling for both money and companionship. His roommate, Zayn, introduces him to a friend who is involved in New York City's sugar bowl. Reluctantly, he signs up for a sugaring app knowing he’s probably the least conventional sugar baby on the market. If he can find a sugar daddy who will pay his bills without asking him to sacrifice his own preferences and boundaries, he might just be willing to earn a bit of extra cash by faking a relationship with a millionaire.

At the age of 35, Harry’s spent his entire adult life devoted to his career as a fashion designer. With his label, Eroda, steady and flourishing, he finally has time to settle down. When he reflects on his adult life, he realizes that he’s never been in a relationship and therefore feels behind. Shy and insecure in his inexperience, he turns to a sugaring app to manufacture a “test relationship” on his terms.

Turns out, they’re both looking for something unconventional.

A smutty, non-traditional strangers-to-lovers story about finding yourself, friendship, safety, sexual discovery, and an unexpected collision with tender, profound love.

[minipuff005]

I’m back on my musical bullshit so here are my (objectively correct) opinions

We need more proshoots of shows

Now you might be thinking : well they already have to shoot film of the show for their archives- and yes I KNOW. So WHY can I not get a DECENT RECORDING of beetlejuic?

Because of corporate greed!!!

We dont want a Wicked movie!!

We want a good recording of the stage play!!!

You see how well Hamilton did when it got its proshoot released

We want that!!

I want that!!!

I want to be able to see The Great Gatsby without having to drive over 70 miles to the nearest theatre and then shelling out at least a hundred bucks!!

As much as I love and adore musicals I hate how we the musical loving community subsist on broadway scraps. Little bootlegs that we collect and share amongst ourselves from the brave people who sneakily film them for the rest of us to watch. I’m not booing them. What I’m saying is that (especially in this economy) a lot of people aren’t wealthy enough to go see live shows anymore. Even just the movie theatre is a splurge, heaven forbid off broadway. And even more people live in rural areas and even if they can maybe afford the money for a ticket, the time to get there and back and gas prices are abominable.

As much as I am willing to pirate basically everything (because I am poor) I would willingly shell out the money for a good musical streaming service just to make a point that this is what we the people want.

Now, the reason they have given for not doing this even though every musical have been filmed for their archives which they refuse to share is that they think that will cheapen the work. Make it too accessible to the point that no one will go see live shows anymore because they can just watch them on the tv and it’s like they don’t even know their audience at all.

There are so many benefits to making broadway stage productions more accessible the first being that more people could find them! If they love the show they are going to want to see it live! And they can know whether or not they love the show of they can watch it without paying a hundred dollars. More people could gain an appreciation for the art. It could inspire the next playwrites, directors, and set designers, but with the way things are right now only the people who can afford to see it live or the people who go to the internet archive and watch the bootlegs because they dumped hours into figuring out how to find the decent recordings can even know how wonderful it is.

I know I’m just ranting and there is probably no one who will see this and be able to just make a broadway service but I just had to spew my words. So anyway art is dead, Bo Burnham was right and trying to warn us all along and I’m going to go watch some Fred Astaire movies.

Thank you and goodnight *jazz hands sadly*

[would-they-listen-to-that]

hiya! i see that the kin playlist event is still on, would you consider a gamzee makara (homestuck) kin playlist? thanks!

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ [TC] HeRe YoU gO! :0)

My Boo - Hitman's Club Mix - Ghost Town DJs

Hokus Pokus - Insane Clown Posse

Karkalicious - Broadway Homestuck

When Worlds Collide - Spongebob Squarepants OST

Dragula - Rob Zombie

Insane in the Brain - Cypress Hill

California Love - 2Pac ft. Roger, Dr. Dre

My Axe - Insane Clown Posse

Head Like a Hole - Nine Inch Nails

Quiche Lorraine - The B-52's

[TC] ThAnKs FoR dIaLiNg In!

[pinksilvace]

"There are merits to the Broadway revival choreography," I say. The crowd boos me off the stage. I walk, dejected and with my head down, to the wings.

"They're right!" A voice cries out. I look up, and there he is: Alonzo catsthemusical himself,

[isaterriblebore]

Stex Appreciation Month Day 1: Rusty

Favourite Actor?

Jeevan Braich is my current absolute favourite. I've seen him a few times now and he's amazing! I also love Max Rizzo, Mark Daye, James Gillan, Greg Mowry

Favourite Song/Scenes?

The Starlight Sequence... always <3

Favourite Costumes?

My favourite Rusty costume is the new Bochum one! With the hat (which they recently got rid of boo)

Favourite Ships/Friendships?

Ships: Rusty/Caboose, Rusty/BV, Rusty/Hydra, Rusty/Ruhrgold

Friendships: I think he's friends with the freight and the coaches. I also think him and Electra will be somewhat friends after everything.

Headcanons?

He's Italian and he and Espresso are cousins. This is so random but it came about because Max Rizzo was my favourite Rusty for the longest time and he was Italian

Unpopular Opinion?

I don't have any... but I love him so much :)

Photo 1: Mark Daye - Bochum 1993. Photo 2: Adrian Hansel - London 1999-2001. Photo 3: Max Rizzo - Bochum 2022. Photo 4: Michael Demby Cain - Broadway 1987. Photo 5: Jeevan Braich - Wembley 2024.

[autistichalsin]

*sits down* Hello. Let’s talk theater.

13, 37, 41, if you please 💫

YES LET'S THANK YOU

13. What is your favourite act 1 finale?

Oh this is a HARD one. But I'm going to have to go with Tomorrow Is from Spongebob. Both for the song, and for personal memories (I was at the final show, and when the narrator said "enjoy your last intermission... ever" we all BOOED and moments like that made the closing so much less sad than it would have been otherwise.)

37. Is there a musical lyric, line, moment, etc. that lives in your head rent-free?

Two from Come From Away: one, those first downbeats you get blasted at you from the bodhran at the top of the show that never once failed to give me goosebumps, and also the fucking BLOCKING we get in Stop the World. Really, all the chair-related choreography is incredible, but that was just my favorite, the cast all moving the chairs for Nick and Diane and the warmth of that lighting and the longing looks and the harmonizing and and and-

41. Share an unpopular opinion about musical theatre.

OH BOY OH BOY time to get myself canceled from Broadway fandom before I really truly enter it /hj

Kimberly Akimbo fucking sucks and did not deserve to win the Tony for best musical.

Slime tutorials are good, actually! Just don't be disruptive while filming them.

BroadwayRoulette is a complete and utter waste of money. You're better off entering the lottery for random shows and seeing which one you win tickets to.

KPOP the musical should have stayed off-Broadway. Everything was far superior in that edition, including the twist of following different people being split into groups.

JUSTICE FOR GREAT COMET

[firecrackerhh]

Ngl I think anyone who thinks of Charlie as a “damsel in distress” may not realize perhaps at least, the point of season 1 Charlie is that she originally assumes SHE and ONLY SHE is capable of helping sinners (I can do this, I just know it, I’ll get heaven behind MY plans, I know I could have done better, I built a hotel and I destroyed it) achieve redemption, until she realizes that she can’t, not without help from her friends.

That’s not being a damsel in fucking distress, it’s called fucking character growth you fucking dumbfuck.

“It starts with you, you know it’s true, fulfill your destiny!”

“As long as I’ve got all of you with me!”

Also the fucking “she has to have her daddy save her!” Like what the fuck do I say here? Maybe him showing up in the last episode actually has a purpose? Helping give Charlie the motivation to continue her redemption project? Sure anyone else could have done that, but with Lucifer being her father it would’ve had far more of an impact on her.

That’s how I see it anyway.

“Waaah Viv is a misogy-“

I’m starting to think this bitch is so fucking brain damaged from her toxic ideology that she doesn’t know what the fuck misogyny actually fucking looks like.

Christ, does this bitch think Princess Peach supports the fucking patriarchy or something too since she gets saved by Mario every game? Yknow sometimes you become so fucking “woke” it goes all the way back around to sounding fucking conservative. What an idiot.

I don’t deny the Hunicast helped in the pilot days but honestly, the VA’s probably knew they weren’t the permanent VA’s, because Viv herself said she always wanted Broadway people.

She let them audition, but they didn’t get the part. That’s it. This isn’t evidence of a broken Hollywood that Viv is profiting off of, this is just how show business fucking works.

Maybe if any of you fucking losers went the fuck outside or bothered to do any actual research beyond fucking tumblr posts you would know that.

Why tf are you people so fucking salty over this shit, the pilot VA’s are doing quite fine and Ashley has her own projects she wants to work on, there’s nothing fucking wrong with that, stop clinging to the fucking past, it doesn’t do anything but cause you more suffering.

Christ I think these people are just pissed off that the Hazbin they got wasn’t what they wanted, boo hoo. Life sucks, move on.

Grow the fuck up and get the fuck over yourselves. I can’t say I’m happy that Hazbin didn’t get more episodes or that certain topics couldn’t be explored, but considering we’re getting 4 fucking seasons, I think we have all the time in the fucking world to get to know these characters (their actual characters) more.

Besides, no matter what Hazbin became, these people would’ve never been happy with it anyway. I just don’t see why they’re still whining over this shit, find something else to watch, write fanfic, maybe try being a productive member of society for once, I dunno, anything that gets these mental midgets to shut the fuck up.

[fortheunsungheros]

My opinions on Cherry in the different versions of the story

Book: I hate you your a lil bitch 🥰

Movie: Diane Lane you are so so pretty but you bring nothing to the character sorry boo

Broadway: Emma your my pookie ilysm your beautiful and make Cherry a girl boss

[torontophantom]

The Phantom of the Opera - 35th Anniversary Live on Broadway

Not usually one to post this sort of thing, but considering the historical significance I couldn’t not. Please enjoy.

The Phantom of the Opera - 35th Anniversary Live on Broadway January 26, 2023 - The Majestic Theatre New York City

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Cast: Ben Crawford (The Phantom of the Opera), Emilie Kouatchou (Christine Daaé), Paul A. Schaefer (u/s Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny), Raquel Suarez Groen (Carlotta Giudicelli), Craig Bennett (Monsieur Firmin), Nehal Joshi (Monsieur André), Maree Johnson (Madame Giry), Carlton Moe (Ubaldo Piangi), Sara Esty (Meg Giry), Carrington Vilmont (Auctioneer), Jim Weitzer (Monsieur Reyer/Hairdresser), Tug Watson (u/s Jeweler), Laird Mackintosh (Monsieur Lefèvre/Firechief), David Michael Garry (Joseph Buquet/Don Attilio), Jeremy Stolle (Passarino), Kfir (Hannibal Solo Dancer), Weston Krukow (u/s Il Muto Solo Dancer), Kanisha Marie Feliciano (Page), Chris Georgetti (Porter/Fireman), Trista Moldovan (Spanish Lady), Satomi Hoffmann (Wardrobe Mistress/Confidante), Elizabeth Welch (Hannibal Princess), Kelly Jeanne Grant (Madame Firmin), Janet Saia (u/s Innkeeper's Wife), Jason Forbach (e/c Marksman)

Notes: Recorded from the Front Mez. The person beside me was enjoying some theatre snacks throughout the show, so apologies for any disturbances as a result of this. I also missed the very beginning of the Entr'acte, but there's a few other masters out there should you want to do an insert. Includes the full speeches during curtain call (including the boos when they mention the closing), and the shout out to the swings. We missed you Greg!

Truly a magical night, with absolutely amazing energy. As others have said, Emilie's "Wishing..." might be the best I've ever seen.

And to the guy outside the theatre with the sign asking for an extra Playbill, who I graciously gave my extra to, only to then notice him tuck it into his jacket and continue to stand there gathering more of the limited edition Playbills: the Opera Ghost is not pleased...

- O.G.

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