#that leaves me reeling a tiny bit and not always in a conclusion that's ... certain beyond all doubt? there's often some little qualifier.

[widowshill]

reminder to myself to find and upload the article about the gendered enlightenment/scientific reason vs superstitious persecution in Carmilla and it’s resulting ambiguously supernatural narrative because. it’s so formative to the way I think and write about ds lmao it needs to be on some kind of blog syllabus.

[tommysparker]

Never Forget You [Chapter 3]

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Jedi!Reader

A/N: hey y’all! thank you for your patience with this chapter. enjoy!! :) [also totally didn’t have this in my drafts then forget to post earlier pfftttt whaaaatt?]

Warnings: angst with a tiny amount of fluff. anakin finally makes his debut in this series. it gets better just stay with me. long italic paragraphs = flashbacks

Anakin Skywalker had witnessed many things over the years. 

Giant beasts? At least once a week. Sith Lords? Becoming too common. Droid armies? All year long. Looking death in the eye? Simply another day in the life of a Jedi. 

Nothing could ever have prepared him for the sight he was currently witnessing. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi, his Master, The Negotiator, the Jedi Council’s most prized Jedi…sulking.

It has been a full week since You returned to the Jedi Temple and Anakin couldn’t help to think his former Master’s mood and your arrival were connected. He was vaguely aware of your past friendship, only hearing bits and pieces of the adventures you had together as Padawans. 

During his days under Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship he would often hear about how “a wise Jedi I once knew” would do certain things. He wanted to know more about this oh-so-great Jedi, however, any time the young boy asked his Master would always brush him off with a mournful look in his eyes.  

He didn’t understand at the time but now he’s beginning to piece together that perhaps there was something more between the two of you. 

“You think Master Y/l/n and Master Kenobi were courting?” 

“Keep your voice down, Snips,” Anakin hushed.

“Sorry, sorry. But Master,” Ahsoka lowers her voice, “what led you to that conclusion? I’ve hardly seen them together since Master Y/l/n came back. What makes you think they could be lovers?” 

“That’s just it, Ahoska. They’ve been avoiding each other like the Rakghoul plague. Obi-Wan told me they were such good friends, and now that they’re back they can’t stand to be in the same room as each other? I don’t buy it.” Anakin looked back to where Obi-Wan sat with Commander Cody, no doubt brainstorming new battle tactics and liberation plans. 

“So what do you suppose we do? Set them up or something?” The look her Master gave her made her regret her words the moment they left her mouth. 

“Come on, Snips. It’s a good idea. We get them to stay in the same room so they have no choice but to confront each other and talk things out! It’s genius.” Anakin smiled, his eyes still on his former Master. He had a feeling if Obi-Wan were to find out about this plan he would be in for a major lecture but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. He couldn’t stand to see the old man look so miserable, not if he can do anything about it. 

Ahsoka crossed her arms and followed her Master’s gaze. Something was clearly different about her Grand-Master. He had put his full attention into ending the war, which wasn’t new. However, she could tell something was off. He no longer came out to the landing zone to greet returning fighters, stayed away from the meditation and training centers as well as the Jedi Archives which was the most off-putting observation considering that was where he spent most of his time.

Anytime someone needed to find Obi-Wan Kenobi, the first place they would check was the ancient history section of the Jedi Archives. 

“I don’t know why you find so much interest in these old books Y/n/n,” Obi-Wan complained from across the table. “Can’t we go practice our lightsaber skills instead?” 

You smiled. “Nuh uh, mister. If I won the wager you promised to sit with me during my reading time. Now shush, and read.” You pushed the unopened textbook toward the pouting Padawan. “Maybe you’ll actually learn something.” 

Obi-Wan stuck his tongue out in a childish manner, sighing dramatically when you gave him a certain look and reluctantly opened the cover and began to read Tales of The Old Republic. 

Safe to say from that point onward, Obi-Wan would join your daily Archive visits with zero complaints. 

You close the book, careful to make sure no pages fell out and gently push it back into its place on the shelf. Using the force, you carefully push the ladder you were currently standing on over to the next column and begin nitpicking through the array of old texts. 

It took a few days for you to settle in and readjust to the Jedi Temple life. Once you had, however, things quickly took a turn. 

Master Yoda requested that you help train some of the younglings who were having trouble advancing into the next stages of becoming a Jedi. In all honesty, you much rather have had the freedom to roam for at least one more week, but the new role presented an excuse to not be around a certain blue-eyed Jedi. 

“Looking for something?” 

The voice startled you, causing you to jump and lose your balance on the ladder. You yelp as you begin to fall towards the ground, bracing yourself for the hash impact and the bruises that would add to the collection on your side still currently healing.  

Instead, you feel a pair of arms catch you, one under your back and the other behind your knees in a classic bridal style. The hold felt secure instantly, and you instinctively clung to the tunic of your savior. You look up to thank the person for preventing any injuries, but the blue eyes staring back at you made your mind go blank. 

Obi-Wan stared back, unsure of what to say. This was the closest he has been to you since you left a decade ago. He longed to have you in his arms, to hug you, to regain that safety net you provided he knew he could always fall back on.

“Um...thank you, General.” It came out as more of a question, your mind still reeling from almost falling and also the fact that the man who you had been actively avoiding just happened to be in the same place you spent hours of your youth together. 

“Obi-Wan, please. No need for formalities, darling.” The old nickname slipped out, and he was about to apologize when he noticed the light blush that spread across your face. Perhaps not everything about you has changed. 

“Right...Obi-Wan. Well, I’ll be on my way then,” You rushed, trying to pass by him but he stopped you once again by the call of your name. 

“Y/n/n’s wait. Whatever game you’re playing, frankly I am not a fan of it.” Obi-Wan crossed his arms and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“What are you talking about?” You turned around and looked at him confused. 

“You were the one who summoned me here,” he stretched his arms out, “here I am and now you’re trying to run away again. I hardly think that’s fair.” He was beginning to get frustrated. He came in with his heart on his sleeve, ready to finally talk to you after so long and find out why you’ve been keeping your distance. Now, all he felt was betrayal and irritation at the ongoing dance you insist on doing around each other. 

He preferred to dance like you did in your youth, but alas this was nothing but another sign he needs to get mind out of the past.  

You scoffed lightly. “Again? What is that supposed to mean exactly?” You knew exactly what he meant, but you didn’t want to admit it. You’ve been denying it for ten years and Force be damned if you’d admit it now. 

“You’ve been avoiding me since your return--” You open your mouth to protest but he ignores you and continues “--and then you send the youngling to bring me here, only to try to flee upon my arrival,” He frowns, lifting his elbow and resting it on his remaining crossed arm. “I know our history can make things...difficult in the present time,” He glanced around cautiously as he spoke,”but I would appreciate it if we make an agreement simply to not speak from now on. No more games.” 

You blinked, head tilting slightly as you waited for him to finish. “Obi-Wan, I didn’t ask for you to come here. Nor would I ever involve younglings in personal matters.” He should know that, you thought. But should he really? 

His face fell from annoyance to embarrassment, his arms falling to his sides. “Oh.” He wasn’t sure what to do now. It was his own fault for getting his hopes up. I should have known better. 

You purse your lips and nodded slowly. “Well, I’m glad we at least came to an agreement. Goodbye, General Kenobi.” You took your leave, forcing yourself not to look back as you felt his eyes watching your figure. 

Obi-Wan let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he just ruined any and all changes of reconnecting with you. In his defense, however, you were the one avoiding his attempts at friendly conversation and refusing to meet and make up for lost time.  

Still, something didn’t feel right about this. 

“What the kriff was that?” 

Ah, there’s that something. “Anakin, please tell me this was not your doing.” 

Anakin smiled guilty, Ahsoka coming out from behind the bookshelf to stand next to her Master. 

“It was Snips' idea.” Anakin shrugged, flinching when he felt her punch his arm. “Ow!”

“You were the one who came up with the plan, and now look! Master Y/l/n and Master Kenobi will never get together--” Ahoska stops herself, realizing she said too much. “Oh no.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan looks at them both incredulously. “First of all, Master Y/l/n and I are simply…” he wanted to say friends, but even that was a reach at this point, “acquaintances. We knew each other in the past, and in the past our friendship shall stay. As for ‘getting together’, you both know very well any implication of that goes directly against the Jedi Code.” He crossed his arms tightly as he scolded. 

“I can tell you harbour feelings for them, Obi-Wan. You don’t need to lie to us.” 

“Whatever feelings I may or may not have for Y/n are unrelated. You must understand your responsibilities as a Jedi. No matter what emotional sacrifice we must make.” He made a point to look at Anakin at the end, knowing he won’t follow the implication but at least hoping he’ll get the message.     

“We’re sorry, Master.” Ahsoka looked down in shame not at what they had tried to achieve, but at the cost and clear damage they caused. 

Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand over his beard before resting it on her shoulder. “It’s alright young one. You meant no harm. Perhaps some things are better left forgotten.” 

Oh, if only it were that simple. 

A Padawan approached the three of them quickly. “Excuse me, Master Yoda sent me to tell you he and Master Y/l/n are waiting for you all in the council room.” 

Of course, these things never are. 

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heres a box to put your heart pieces in  -> []  :) 

Taglist: @queenariesofnarnia @dwarfplanet69 @katsukink @blondekel77 @generousrunawaydonut @fandomtrashwhore @fortheloveofaqueenfan @mrskenobi19 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @hotleaf-juice @emiijemii @neji85 @doctor-warthrop @ayamenimthiriel @lizzy-95 @lovelylostminds 

[larryland]

For theatre goers “of a certain age”, the mention of Sunset Boulevard may very well conjure up images of beloved comedienne Carol Burnett’s loving homage to this classic 1950 Billy Wilder film. Burnett’s entrance as the faded Hollywood film star Norma Desmond slowly –at first—descending the staircase of her mansion to the applause and adulation of her faithful butler (played to perfection, of course, by the stalwart Burnett sidekick Harvey Korman) remains one of her many “Most Memorable” moments.

With this production of Sunset Boulevard, veteran Mac-Haydn Producing Artistic Director John Saunders has created his own Most Memorable offering; indeed this show may very well turn out to be the crown jewel of the season. With a glorious score by Andrew Lloyd Webber, and book and lyrics by Don Black and Christopher Hampton, performances soar as high as the HOLLYWOOD sign that looms over the set.

Intertwining the stories and lives of long-forgotten silent film star Norma Desmond and the desperate and virtually poverty-stricken screenwriter Joe Gillis, the plot develops, unfolds and ultimately unravels to a tragic conclusion . Underscoring the seduction of the young screenwriter by of the fading film star is the “B reel” plot of Joe’s attraction to, and eventually reciprocated, love for Betty Schaefer, and of course we cannot overlook the faithful to a fault Max , butler-cum ex-husband to the vulnerable, delusional, Norma Desmond as he protects with unwavering loyalty “The Greatest Star” who lives in a world where only she hears the echos and whispers of the applause that surrounded her in her heyday.

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As the aging, faded from glory and memory silent film start Norma Desmond, living in a mansion as dilapidated and tattered as the shreds of the wardrobe she clutches around her, Elizabeth Ward Land’s performance is a true tour de force. From her entrance as she intriguingly inquires “Are there any laws against burying him in the garden?”, she captures and mesmerizes the audience, who are not released from her spell until the final flicker of spotlight leaves her face at her last “close-up.” Her hand gestures through the performances are absolutely mesmerizing—the flick of a wrist, crook of a finger, wave of a hand– each and every movement adds a depth to the character she has become.

Her voice is as perfect as her presence, capturing the pathos and the delusion of the world in which she lives. Her vocal presentation more than holds its own against the Norma Desmond’s who have gone before her …Patty LuPone, Betty Buckley, Glenn Close —yes, Glenn Close ! In what is probably the “signature” musical number of the show, her performance of “As if we never said Goodbye” is a show stopper in the truest sense of the word. As Norma arrives at Paramount Studio, which long ago and far away was her home and her life, she is both labored and sustained by the illusion that her triumphant return to film is upon her. She gives voice to the memories of her glory days and the soon to be unrealized dreams of a triumphal return in an opening night performance not soon to be forgotten. The single split second of total silence at its conclusion, before the audience, rightfully, gave her the applause due such a bravura performance, and testified to the magic of the moment. For 2 1⁄2 hours, Land IS Norma Desmond, and the audience in Chatham ARE the adoring fans she remembers from her glory years.

As the ultimately doomed screenwriter Joe Gillis, Pat Moran holds his own against Land’s Norma. His spiraling ascent and descent from a slightly jaded, debt-ridden screenwriter on the run from debt collectors to “a kept man” who ultimately shatters the mind and the life of his keeper is well-played and believable; he has both the voice and the presence to play against Land’s larger than life Norma. Their scenes together are fraught with increasing ardor—on Norma’s part-, and a gradual abandonment of principle and to some extent self-respect, as Joe yields to the pathetic passionate yearnings of the aging star, clinging desperately to the remembered vestiges of the youth she long ago left behind. In a rather awkward ending to Act 1, Joe yields himself to Norma following yet another suicide attempt thwarted and tended to by the faithful Max. As the music swells, and the lights begin to dim, the “couple” come together in an embrace that leaves little to the imagination as to its inevitable climax. Cue the less than subtle hints of writhing undulations…and was that “Mrs. Robinson, You’re trying to seduce me” we heard as the lights faded to black? A little more subtlety, a little less graphic detail would have made the point of the moment sufficiently.

In the almost obligatory sub-plot romance, the relationship between Joe and would-be screenwriter Betty Schaefer develops almost as slowly as the movie script they attempt to write together. Fortunately for the audience, the chemistry between Moran and Rachel Pantazis provides a much-need touch of reality and innocence amid the decay and delusion swirling through Sunset Boulevard and beyond. Their duet “Too Much in Love” showcases Pantazis’ lovely voice already on display in “Boy Meets Girl”. Hopefully Pantazis will offer her talents in other roles during the season.

James Zennelli as the faithful- to- a- fault Max guards the faded star and her memories with the intensity of a pit bull; you can almost hear the merest hint of a growl should anyone dare to threaten the fragile mindset of his beloved “Madam”, as she lives in her world of fan mail (that comes no more) and fawning, adoring fans (who never call). With relatively few musical moments, Zennelli nonetheless creates a full-bodied character whose presence is as essential to the production as it is to Norma Desmond.

As frequently is the norm at the Mac, production values hold their own against the performances. Original productions of Sunset Boulevard were encumbered and in some cases hampered by the huge and expensive set pieces, including a grand staircase which is essential to the plot and the “look” of the piece. Saunders has worked with Scenic Designer Erin Kiernan to use the theatre’s in-the round space to best advantage. The staircase integral to plot and action dominates in its permanent placement off to one “side” of this theatre in the round, and occasionally “doubles” as Betty’s office on the movie lot .

For the most part scene changes are made effortlessly if occasionally a bit slowly . Such is almost a necessary evil in the available space. Clad in black, stage crew shift the center stage from the house on Sunset Boulevard to Paramount Studios to with relative ease.

Jimm Halliday’s costuming is especially noteworthy, with his almost exclusive use of black and white attire for Norma Desmond, subtly reflecting her past and passed life in the silent film era. Costumes for the ensemble cast, representing the would be stars and starlets, casting directors, and players in the Hollywood business world perfectly capture the 1950s “movie biz” atmosphere. Special kudos go to the staging, choreography, direction, and costuming efforts that went into the “transformation” of Joe when “The Lady is Paying” for a new wardrobe for her soon-to-be lover. A full and complete change of clothes, top to bottom, inside and out, was performed with an ease and grace that would make many a backstage dresser envious.

Lighting designer Andrew Gmoser generally “shines” with his use of lighting to capture both the teeming, cut-throat world of Tinsel Town in 1950 , and the decaying, faded glory of Norma Desmond’s mansion. The classic “HOLLYWOOD” sign towers over Sunset Boulevard and the theatre in the round stage, reminding all comers they are living in a world where the camera rules, records, and cannot repair or , a world of illusion and of dreams both realized and shattered.

There are, however, several literally glaring miscues which not only detract from the impact of the scenes underway, but have the potential to negatively effect audience members with a particular sensitivity to their use. Strobe light effects throughout the performance, particularly in Act 2, are strident and overly extended, causing more than one audience member to remark on the almost painful impact. The use of the strobe is so prevalent and so frequent that perhaps it would be valuable, in a program note, or even included with the pre-show announcement, to let the audience know of its heavy and frequent presence. In another unfortunate moment, lighting in the final climactic murder scene is entirely too harsh; a spotlight aimed directly into the audience effectively blinded those unfortunate enough to be seated in Section 2. If I had not already been familiar with the action taking place in this moment, I would be left wondering “what happened?”

Also somewhat perplexing is the over-zealous use of atmospheric haze effect, which permeates the theatre from pre-show through curtain call. While a fan of the effect, in moderation, it seems in many moments of this production to be more gratuitous than

Under the guidance of Music Director David Maglione, Andrew Lloyd Webber’s soaring score is given the tender loving care this production needs and deserves. With violin, reeds, percussion and horns, the orchestra does justice to Webber’s work; it is always astounding how big a sound comes from the tiny corner of the theatre where the musicians ply their trade and their instruments.

Despite its few flaws, Sunset Boulevard at Mac-Haydn is a must-see show. Big, bold, and over the top in performance and production, this IS classic musical theatre done almost to perfection. The standing ovation given Leading Lady Land on opening night was more than justified; hers was a triumphant performance. The cast was collectively and individually a match for her talents, performing flawlessly with energy and empathy from start to finish. As a side note, the English major/Grammar Nazi was thrilled to hear cries of “Brava”, rather than the typical “Bravo,” as Land took the accolades and applause so rightfully earned .

A trip to Sunset Boulevard, via Route Route 203 in Chatham, is highly recommended. Almost assuredly, this production will be remembered and talked about for quite some time.

Sunset Boulevard, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and book and lyrics by Don Black and Christopher Hampton, directed by John Saunders, runs from June 20-30, 2019, at the Mac-Haydn Theatre in Chatham, NY. Musical direction by David Maglione, set design by Erin Kiernan, lighting design by Andrew Gmoser, costume design by Jimm Halliday, sound designer Corbin White, props designer Joshua Gallagher, hair and makeup designer Matthew Oliver. CAST: Elizabeth Ward Land as Norma Desmond, Pat Moran as Joe Gillis, James Zannelli as Max von Mayerling, Rachel Pantazis as Betty, and Gabe Belyeu as Sheldrake.

The Mac-Haydn Theatre is located at 1925 NY 203 in Chatham, NY. 518-392-9292; http://www.machaydntheate.org

REVIEW: “Sunset Boulevard” at the Mac-Haydn Theatre For theatre goers “of a certain age”, the mention of Sunset Boulevard may very well conjure up images of beloved comedienne Carol Burnett's loving homage to this classic 1950 Billy Wilder film.