#the way he always gives the wittiest answers kills me

[gunsatthaphan]

"keep me in mind though."

[flannelshirtandjeans]

Oc interview meme

I was tagged by @radbeetle (thank you!!) and took this as an opportunity to talk through ghoul Norma in the future, interviewed by some future reporter for some paper or newsletter that's happening then. I'm stuck on mobile so super apologies for long and no cut! D:

I tag: (if you wanna do it) @johnandrasjaqobis @ceilingcow @keycchan

"We are sitting down today with one of the most pivotal figures of our Commonwealth's recent history, the mysterious but beloved by many, Norma Hawke, on the little porch of her home on Spectacle Island. She is serving a drink she claims to have coined, tarberry and mutfruit and just enough alcohol to have a punch."

How old are you?

Norma looks almost startled at the question. "You know," she tells me, "I have lost count. I was 32 when I came to... this Commonwealth, and had been frozen for more than 200 years. That was in... what year is it? Oh, and I turned into a ghoul before 40. That was decades and decades ago."

What do you look like? (For any readers who haven't seen you, or pictures.)

She laughs. "OLD, the way that us ghouls do. But I like to think I still got it!" She laughs again, and continues: "I'm a ghoul, unlike some stories say, and I don't have fins and gills like a fish. I'm just an old, short, round ghoul with some of my old hair left, still brown. Lipstick on every day, eyebrows drawn. I like it, it's routine."

Where are you from?

"The past. I'm a time traveler from a Vault - no, I'm originally from a different state (IDA HAS FORGOTTEN WHICH ONE), where I lived with my parents until I moved to Boston - here - to study law. Used to live in an apartment downtown, and then up in Sanctuary Hills with my husband and baby. Our old house is still there, I think. I... haven't been in a while."

Where do you live now?

She perks up, and a moment of quiet old sadness has passed without me realizing it was there initially. "Here on this island - I moved here when my wife here died and I started working more with the Minutemen to help build a government and a better Boston." She gets up and walks me around - shows me the single room cottage with its rag rugs and quilts, the garden swing, her little garden, and the fields, and her pride and joy, the apple tree. "I always wanted to be more of a country girl when I was younger" Norma says and pats the tree trunk. "I was such a city girl in truth, even when I thought I was getting there with my husband before the war, but I think I've gotten my wish now!"

What was your childhood like?

She snorts. "Rich in money but not in anything else. My parents... had me more because it was the thing to do and some kind of a status symbol, and not because they really wanted a child and to be a good caring family. Work came first. I grew up with a long list of tutors, and little love. Thankfully it mostly only made me want to be better than them."

What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

"I have worked a lot with the New Government of the Commonwealth, and the Minutemen that started building towards it. Not as much as I did, because I'm old and tired, and it's time to let them fly on their own instead of mother henning left and right there." She laughs. "I am still the highest lawmaster I suppose, but the law is working as well as it can without me too. Back in my day, when factions were more... at war with each other, I did work with the Minutemen and the Railroad, who joined forces to destroy the Institute."

Tell me about your best friend.

"There aren't a lot of people left who've been here as long as I have," Norma says, and that same quiet sadness creeps to her as before, but her smile remains. "Many have moved on, or died. But I am thankful for those who are still here. Sturges, who keeps the Castle running, and me too. He's like sunshine. We've seen each other less often of late, but try to meet at least every year on an important anniversary. To remember."

Do you have a family? Tell me about them!

She shakes her head. "No. I did, but they're gone. Husband, child, and wife. The child by my own hand." This child, as we know from history, was the Institute's leader, "Father". "His name was Shaun," Norma says. "I always found that whole title creepy."

What about a partner or partners?

"Gone as well - I don't have anyone now, and my heart is probably too frail to fall in love again, truthfully. Jay was my first husband, a big red-headed shepherd from Maine, the sweetest man I ever met. And then there was Ellie (editor's note: Ellie Perkins, author of such crime thrillers as "The Ghost of Goodneighbor") after the war, the wittiest most amazing woman-- and I buried them both. I've had... flings. Friends with benefits. But I don't think I can bury more partners." Who these friends with benefits are, she won't say.

Who are your enemies, and why?

"There are people who don't like the new government, and understandably blame me for it, me being the only one left was such s big part of establishing it. I don't think I have any real enemies though. Any that I had would be... also mostly dead."

Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?

"I steered mostly clear of them when I first came here. I have never been a big fan of such... military structures, and even less after seeing how much my husband hated his time with the army at the time. After joining forces with the Railroad, and knowing the Brotherhood's dislike of synths, the safest course was to avoid them, and try to keep them away. There were other tensions as well, with them and the Minutemen too. The Brotherhood's blimp was blown from the sky with their leaders at time shortly after the Institute explosion, and there's a lot of stories going around saying that was me too, but I didn't have anything to do with it, I was in too much shock from the Intitute alone to even think of something like that. But their leadership changed after that and now what's remained of the Brotherhood here needs to co-operate with the New Government, and has. I still don't like them much, but they're not causing too many problems, and have been... forced to readjust their thinking a little."

When asked about who she thinks was responsible for the blimp explosion, she only says "I have a pretty good idea", and refuses to elaborate.

What about The Enclave?

"I have heard of them, but don't know much about them, truth be told."

How do you feel about Super Mutants?

She shrugs. "Depends on the person, same as anyone else! I used to be afraid of them when all I'd seen was the groups that'd go around raiding and eating people, running around with mininukes - and feel sorry for them after learning about the FEV. But so much has happened since, and a lot of humans I saw at the time weren't really any different. Just smaller. Things are better now, at least some."

What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?

Norma laughs. "Oh! I've been in so many fights! Hmm." She stops to think, looking across the water to where the blue Minuteman flag flies above the Castle. She laughs again and says: "never thought as a girl that I'd end up with so many war stories. But here's one: once in one of the old hospitals, there was a band of raiders that had trapped a deathclaw on the bottom floor and used it to stage cage fights. I'd... cleared the raiders - they had... taken over a Railroad base and killed the agents there, and I wasn't looking to avenge them as much as see qhat had happened, and had no intent to deal with the deathclaw... But my dog slipped into the pit, thankfully without alerting the deathclaw immediately, so off course I had to go after him. Ended up on top of some cages down there, knocked off BETWEEN them where the deathclaw couldn't reach me and wandered off deeped into the bottom floor... I was pretty sure I would die right there but me and my companion managed to JUST kill it before it got to any of us."

(I guess that answers the next question:) Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?

"I have! More if them than I care to count, truth be told - I've had to travel through the Glowing Sea more than once, and once fought a park full of mutation of them that had some alligator in them! I think... a deathclaw was one of the first things I fought after I woke up here, outside of bugs. Just in Concord, right outside Sanctuary Hills."

Do you like fighting?

"I don't. I may gladly tell stories of victories past because they make good stories and because some of those need to be remembered, and learned from so they don't happen again - but I don't want to sound like I enjoyed it, or wouldn't rather have solved the situation without a fight."

What’s your weapon of choice?

She grimaces. "Pistols. Sniper rifles. I'm not strong or dexterous beyond being able to sneak well, so I need the advantage of the distance. I used to hate the sniper rifles because I felt like I wasn't giving whoever I was aiming at a fair fighting chance, it felt... so impersonal. I don't know, I alway hate killing people anyway, it just came with some additional guilt."

How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?)

Norma shakes her head. "Not brute strength for sure. I'm a lawyer still, even under all the things I've become since, and my first and foremost resort is always wits and charm, I think. It doesn't always work, obviously but I think... it has worked best for me so far."

Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them?

Norma shifts uncomfortably, and dips inside for a minute, coming back with an old frayed and battleworn vault suit with golden number 111 on the back. "That's why I'm here," she says, and for the first time sounds almost dark. "The vault 111 was supposed to be my new home when the bombs fell, but they froze us instead, and I've learned of many other horrifying experiments happening in other vaults as well. It's VILE. I still can't go into a vault without seeing my husband being shot in the head, and my baby being stolen. I hate it. I don't go into them anymore if I can help it. I'm glad that communities can flourish in them now, I know Sanctuary has built their winter home in 111, but there's too much trauma in them for me."

How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?

Norma gestures at herself. "Obviously, I think -- turning into a ghoul was... awful, and painful, and disgusting, but I'm lucky to have had wonderful loving people around me at the time. I don't think I would be as happy in myself as I am now if it hadn't been for them. But even before I became a ghoul, radiation... did strange things to me, or I think it was the radiation? I didn't get skin reactions from swimming like everyone else, and eventually I started growing skin between my fingers, like webs?" She shows me her hands and spreads the toes on her bare feet to show me, and indeed she has some webbing there. "They took some damage from the ghoulification And then I found that I could breathe underwater. Some kind of a mutation, I think. The rads may have done their damage invisibly all that time though, all the swimming, the ghoulification came on so suddenly and without an apparent event that triggered it."

What’s your favorite wasteland critter?

"I am always a fan of cats - does that count? I am so relieved that they are still around. I got my first cat here from Ellie when I'd just turned into a ghoul, and I haven't been without since. If it DOESN'T count, I really like radstags, they're beautiful in their own way."

What's your least favorite wasteland critter?

"Bloodbugs. Bugs in general."

How do you feel about robots?

"Depends on the robot again! Some of them are really stuck in their old programming and are hard to interact with because of that, but others are great! Codsworth - bless his metal heart - tended to my roses for centuries while I was gone! He's like family to me."

How many caps do you have on you right now?

"I couldn't say, truth be told. I have some savings, but not as much as some people say I do. I get a comfortable living, but I would without caps, too. The Castle likes to send stuff over, they keep good care of their grandma ghoul."

Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla?

Norma shrugs. "Usually don't drink them! Nuka Cola is noce for marinades."

Do you do chems?

"As a habit, no. Sometimes for aches, and sometimes if I need a stim. But I've never really been much to use them beyond just that."

Do you ever think about the Pre-War world?

Norma nods, and is quiet for a moment. "I don't... think that a day goes by without me thinking of that time. There's just... sovmany convenience items that I end up missing, or animals, or people. I don't tend to dwell, not anymore, it's past and won't change what is now, and I'll only hurt if I think about it too much. These days it's easier though, mostly nostalgia. I have found a good life here."

What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?

"I--" Norma falters and for the first time she looks truly fragile. "I wish... I regret that I couldn't be a mother to my son. That was entirely out of my hands, but I do regret it." She wipes away a tear and tries a laugh. "There are so many things I wish I'd done differently with him here, and keep wondering if I could have reached him somehow... If this could have gone differently. I don't know. I try to not wallow to much on what could have been done differently. It's too late to change that now."

What’s your biggest achievement?

Or what do you hope to achieve?

She wipes away her tears. "Ahh, this is easier. I'm... The Commonwealth now? I'm proud that I've been a part of building it towards a much safer and more prosperous place to live. But most of ask, I think? I'm proud of the library. That's something that me an Ellie built together, it was... like a proof of concept for everything bigger, I suppose. And it's still a lovely, lively place now, growing every day."

What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?

"I want the Commonwealth to keep building. I want safety, and comfort, and sustainability. I want more connections elsewhere. And I want to know it can do that without me - I don't plan to go just yet, but I'm old and tired, and I will not be here forever. I want to be just some grandma, and let the world sort itself out. I've earned my rest, I think. And you know, I think it will happen, too. I think it will."

[arzani-fuchsia]

306. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” For SilverFlint ;D

390 Prompts

I will kill the BS fandom with sweet (a little angsty) fluff of SilverFlint. Because that is what I’m good at. Fluff. The fluffiest fluff on our fluffy earth.

306. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”

This is a loose continuation from this prompt (also on AO3), featuring artist!Silver and a modernAU.

Rainsplattered against the windows of the car and the headlights barely managed toilluminate the night. The street looked like one big tapestry of rain. Only theoccasional flash of lightnings brightened up the surrounding in an eerie way.The following thunder was muffled through the splashing and the car engine.James was glad to finally be home when he pulled into their house’s driveway.

Silencestretched between them when he turned the key and the car went still. Anotherlightning struck overhead and the thunder surprised James in its volume.Laughing lightly to shake the feeling he looked sideways to John, taking in theform of his husband. All the way back to their home he had been irritatinglyquiet. Yet, James blamed it on the late hour and the busy evening.

They hadbeen attending a banquet given by one of John’s new costumers from his agency.It was about a year ago that they had moved together – finally – and John hadchanged his job. The graphic design agency John now worked in was bigger thanhis old one, and their clients were more of the industrial type. Big names,more money, more work and occasional invitations to galas and dinner parties,and the sorts. Not that James could always spot the difference between onegathering and the other. He didn’t particularly cared, either. John was stillthe same, still his happy, cheerful sometimes quite chaotic husband who heloved dearly. It was all that mattered to him.

They weremarried for three years now, knew each other for five and James’ feelings hadonly ever grown stronger for the man he had met as an art student back in hislast year.

“You’realright?” James asked while watching the lines of his husband’s face. The long,dark curls, currently kept together in a bun, were his strongest feature. Bluesparkling eyes shone like gems, even in the dark and his mouth was full andtempted to be kissed. James was lucky to not only have the smartest andwittiest husband, but also the most beautiful one.

“Yeah, justtired,” John answered after a short moment of consideration and then nodded hishead towards the door. They would be soaked, no matter the short distance totheir front door. “Let’s get inside.”

Out of pureinstinct James leaned over the console to catch John’s mouth with his. It was ashort kiss, but it conveyed all the love he felt for his husband. As theyparted he stroke his fingers over John’s mustache and chin, caressing him. “Ilove you,” he breathed and then moved to get out of the car and into the house.Maybe if he ran, he’d not get too wet.

The doorclosed shut and he lifted his arms over his head, until he stood under theprotecting roof over their front door. Only then James turned to see Johnstanding in the middle between the car and the door, getting wetter and wetterby the minute, looking utterly lost. Something inside James cracked at thesight.

Sighing, helocked the car with his key, and as the headlights blinked to indicate it hadworked, James walked straight back into the rain. He felt the water splash onhis face and hair, felt the dampness creep under his clothes and onto his skin,but he didn’t really notice it. What he concentrated on was the gaze John wasgiving him and the way his lip trembled. The rain hindered James fromrecognizing whether he was crying and he realized it was John’s attempt athiding his tears.

Only a fewsteps were needed to stand in front of John and James took his face between hishands, to crash their lips in a kiss that was bordering on painful. Scratchinghis teeth over John’s lips, he let the man feel he was there, that he wasn’talone, that he was loved. It was what John needed, James knew. Being togetherfor five years had sensitized James to John’s needs and insecurities. Sometimeshis fear of being too small to matter overwhelmed him. By now James was good inconvincing him it wasn’t the case.

John swayedinto his chest when they let go, his hands clutching at his dinner jacket. Theirsuits would be ruined and part of James felt an odd satisfaction about it. Noneof them were the suit-and-tie-kind of type, anyway.

HoldingJohn, he waited for a reaction and when one came, James almost snorted.

“I justwanted to feel the rain.”

The excusewas neither needed nor especially convincing, so James pushed John a littleaway to be able to raise an eyebrow at his stupid, loveable idiot of a husband.“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?Love, what really is it?”

“I…,” Johnstarted, but James realized the lie before he heard it. John was good atdeflecting and hiding his feelings, but James was having none of it. One sternlook was enough to silence John’s attempt of assuring he was ‘fine’. Not eventhe dark could betray the dangerous sparkle of James’ green eyes.

Looking upand away, John wiped water out of his face, before he returned his eyes atJames’ face. His fingers tugged at the shirt that peeked out under the sleevesof his jacket. A sense of understanding started to blossom in James’ chest atthe sight and it grew with every of John’s words.

“That’s notme. Look at me, I look…,” John said and paused, searching for the right word, “…ridiculous.”

James halfwanted to interrupt because even though neither of them was usually wearingsuits, John looked everything but ridiculous. In fact, James had worked hard tokeep his jealousy in check over the span of the evening. While John had beenbusy talking with important people, James had had time to see all kinds ofappreciative and even hungry glances sweep over the form of his husband. Johnlooked amazing, and only knowing that he was his had kept James from leaping atmore than one throat, making a fool out of himself. He could be a possessivebastard sometimes.

But for thesake of hearing what really bothered John, James refrained from telling himthat. At least for now.

“That’s notwho I am,” John said and gulped visibly. His gaze held James’, now,transferring the truth of what he said. “I loved moving in with you. I lovethis town, the people. I love you and I don’t regret any of it. But this job…”

Jamesunderstood. Oh, how well he suddenly understood, and no matter John wasn’taware of it, yet, James had already accepted whatever was about to come.

“Seeing allthe people today made me realize I don’t fit in. Honestly, I knew itbeforehand, but it was the last straw. The long hours, the stupidity of makingads for drills or screw drivers. Hell, James, the least boring work is to makeanother flyer for cars. I talked about old-age insurance five times today! Five times!”

The incredulousnessin John’s voice made James chuckle and he intertwined the fingers of his righthand with John’s, lining up their wedding bands. Lifting their joined hands, hestroked water out of John’s eyes.

“Old-agesecurity is important,” he teased and elicited a huff from his husband. Leaningin closer, James whispered, “Quit.”

Under hisfingers and so close to him, James could feel John tense, before he released aheavy breath. In the dim light of the lamp installed on their front door, John’seyes seemed wide and almost white. “I… don’t know,” he admitted.

“Why not?You’re talented, the letter of recommendation from Blue Dot -” Which was hisold agency, “- is perfect. John, you’ll find something else.”

James wasadamant to not let John suffer any longer. It affected him, James realized now,and he was having none of it.

John didn’tanswer immediately and in the meantime James realized the rain had lessened.They were dripping wet, nothing could change that other than another set ofclothes and a dryer, maybe, but it was good to not have to blink constantly.Out of reflex James reached for John’s hairband and loosened it. The wet, heavylocks framed his face, dripping mercilessly. It was a sight to behold,especially when John drove a hand through them.

“I don’twant to find something else,” he admitted eventually and James blinked,surprised. “I want to draw.”

Therevelation shouldn’t come as much of a surprise as it did, and in considerationit didn’t. The blue wall painting in their hallway came to James’ mind, showinga swirl of waves and water, the ocean and a sole ship amidst water. It had beena present of John, to him, who loved the sea. To finish it had taken Johnalmost four months, because he had to work in between his regular workinghours. Sometimes James had found John in the middle of the night or in theearly morning hours, brush in hand and paint on his body. A sight James wouldalways find intoxicating.

Rememberingthe glint in John’s eyes and the smile on his face while drawing, Jamesrealized what he should have seen earlier. John was happiest when he couldforget himself in his art, and his current job wasn’t allowing it. It was timefor a change.

Smiling,James brushed his thump over John’s mouth and felt the lips pressing a kiss toits tip. “If you want to draw, you should,” he said and grinned when he sawJohn’s eyes widen in astonishment. His free hand wandered to John’s waist topress their soaked bodies closer. Sharing water wasn’t making a differenceanymore anyway.

“Really?You’re not mad at me?”

The wordscaught James off guard. “Why?” he asked, puzzled and John gripped their joinedhands tighter. Smiling a small, admiring smile.

“It’s so you to ask that,” John mused silently,shaking his head and his wet locks swung with the movement. “It will change things.There will be times I will be engrossed in work. Weekends spend in front of apainting. Frustrated yelling at brushes and canvases and paint. We won’t haveas much money as before. I don’t know if people want to buy what I’ll draw andto find costumers asking for commissions is hard. I don’t even know where topaint, to be honest…”

“But youwant to?” James asked, the concerns noted but silently finding a solution forevery one of them. Because finding solutions was what he was good at. After allit he made a living with it.

“Yes,” Johnadmitted and his gaze was reverent, longing. James suddenly knew he would forceJohn to quit his job, if he wasn’t doing it by himself. The man was good atstanding between him and his own happiness sometimes.

“Then we’llmake it work. I own enough for both of us in times of a stretch. Though, Idoubt you’ll have to worry about selling your art. You are talented John, I have first-hand proof. Just think of all ourfriends admiring the wall painting. For space, we can turn the office into astudio. I rarely use it anyway. It’s not much, but something until you fin-,”James said but was interrupted effectively when John surged forward and lockedtheir mouths with a kiss. It was forceful and overwhelming and caught James of allhis breath. A low moan escaped his throat, but was gulped down by John’s cleverlips.

John’s handhad snuck around James’ neck, his fingers tugging lightly at his hair. Now, asthey separated John still was mere inches from his mouth, eyes blazed with joy.James’ fingers snuck under the wet fabric of John’s shirt, stroking the coldskin and trying to feel. A smile spread over his face at the revelation thatwas John, time and time again.

“Thank you,James. Thank you so much!” John whispered against his mouth and the softbreaths made James’ shudder. He should be cold, from the night and the rain,but he wasn’t. Warmth spread through his veins, from his fingertips down to histoes. Still, he realized they should finally get in.

“Yourhappiness will always be the most important to me, John.” With those words helifted his hand, to let his wedding band glint in the night. John followed themovement with his eyes, first irritated then fond. “It’s what I promised whenyou put that ring on my finger.”

Makinghimself loose, James turned to lead John towards the door. Somewhere in hispocket he fished for his key. With an amused smile, he looked over his shoulderat his husband. “I also promised to protect you and I’m utterly failing my vowwhen you end up having pneumonia, so you better get inside, into the tub andwarm up.”

“Only whenyou end up in that tub with me,” John answered his order with a requesthimself. It made James chuckle, who finally opened to door to lead them inside,into the warmth of their home.

“I think I canmanage that.”

[twoteaspoonsofsuga]

An Open Book (Thommy Fanfic) Chapter 6

AN: Thomas gives in to the Dukes commands. But will the secrecy drive a wedge between him and Jimmy? TRIGGER: eluding to a scene of dubious consent in which Thomas knows what is happening but gives consent against his will. Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 7, A03.

Jimmy couldn’t help but notice, that the rest of the day seemed to go eerily well. Thomas had told him the Duke didn’t talk to him much…merely tried to tease him about their past. Apart from a couple of queer looks throughout lunch in the grounds the man seemed as interested in Thomas as he was the rest of the staff. The only thing awry was Thomas…he seemed dazed and distracted all day, mishearing instruction, setting plates and cutlery incorrectly. He was quiet a way away from being himself. There were no smiles for Jimmy before dinner either. “What’s wrong eh… are you still frettin’ about the Duke?” Thomas lit his 10th cigarette in 15 minutes and let the smoke billow and ribbon to the stars. “There’s nothing wrong. I’m alright. I’m just dandy.” “Tell that to yer poor lungs.” Thomas flicked the cigarette and looked over at him, considering him gently, gloomily. “I’m sorry.” “What the hell for?” Thomas took a long drag of his cigarette but shook his head. “Nothing.”

“I’m getting sick of that word.” They were silent a little longer, Jimmy’s mind flitting around trying to figure the riddle before him. Then Jimmy remembered the last time they were here underneath the stars. Those lips, that thrill of excitement. “You called me your love earlier.” Thomas was befuddled. “I did?” “Yeah…so do you?” “Do I what?” “Do you love me?” A beat and then Thomas turned him, a hand on each side of his neck and his cig simmering out smoke around them. “Of course, I love you…do you think a man would risk all I risked because I wanted a cheap and quick shag. I told you the first month I knew you that I loved you.” Jimmy blushed, eyes dropping to the floor. “Mm, that you did. I’ll never understand why.” He sighed and let his hand drop to his shoulders. “I’m man enough to admit that at first it were your beauty. But from then it were this.” He put a palm gently on the left side of the footman’s chest, causing it to jump under his touch. “You could have been so much crueller than you were and you don’t seem to understand it. After Thirsk, you could’ve left it at that, carried on the coldness. You could have pressed further with the Plods and ignored his Lordships advice, had me locked up. I always knew there was something in you that was sweet, something brave, something kind. I knew all that bravado and pride and anger couldn’t be you. I knew because it were the same pride I used to keep the rest at arm’s length.” He briefly swept his thumb across his cheekbone.  “Though I suppose your beauty still don’t hurt either.” He laughed. Jimmy was silent for a second pondering his word. “Well. That’s quite the speech, I won’t be able to compete with that. For that…you may call me your love.” Thomas laughed out loud his eyes sparkling and Jimmy felt marginally appeased. “W-will you come tonight?” “Maybe…probably. I s-sleep better in your room. Must be the breeze… its warmer in there.” “The breeze, yes...”

/ “Mm what a sight for sore eyes… good evening, my sweet.” Thomas said noting as he closed the door laying the pile of clothes on the chair. Philip leaned back on elbows on the bed, swirling his glass lazily. “Come now Thomas try and enjoy yourself.” “My name is Barrow, your Grace. Maybe we should stick to it in case you get too excited in the heat of the moment, you always were quite a slave to pleasure. Or your own at least.” Philip stood with a dark chuckle placing his glass on the dresser and pulling Thomas to him sharply by his jacket and spinning him so the light hit Thomas’ face. “Oh, don’t you worry dear boy, I have plans to include you this time around.” He shoved him, with more force than Thomas was expecting back onto the bed and advanced like a hawk on his prey. / Jimmy knew there was something wrong as soon as Thomas came down to kitchen. Which was buzzing as Mrs Patmore started to serve things up. There was a slight limp in his step and he was combing his hair into place. That’s not what bothered him so much…Thomas had a look about him. He looked positively haunted. “Thomas…what…” “Mr Barrow! Please explain to me why you are walking like that.” “Oh it’s…it’s nothing I was rushing down to get here on time and I slipped. I’ll be fine to serve Mr Carson.” “My, how the tables have turned…” Bates nattered slyly as he passed. “My limp shall go Mr Bates. You on the other hand walk like an infant will a full nappy until the day you drop.” He snapped. “I will remind you, you are beneath me.” “In nothing but rank.” “Mr Bates.” Anna appeared like an angel and pulled him away. “Do not torment him, he has had a stressful day.” He heard her say as she led him off. Jimmy was concerned but he could do little more than clap his shoulder before they were given the first course. / “Good lord Barrow, is this a new sort of jig I haven’t hear of? Or have you lost totally control of your bottom half.” The Dowager asked haughtily. Philip chuckled over his goblet, Thomas was taken aback for a second. “No M’lady, I was rushing to get to the kitchen before service and slipped.” “And here I was thinking you were the one with grace.” Thomas said nothing and just returned to his spot, humiliated as Carson apologised profusely for something that was hardly Thomas’ fault. “You shouldn’t be so hard on him Violet.” Philip drawled he met his eyes. “He’s a good boy really.” Jimmy watched Thomas from across the room and he closed his eyes momentarily and he’d never found it so hard to stand still in his life. Robert piped up. “We have been working you particularly hard of late Thomas even after you were ill, after the week is up, take a day.” “Thank you M’lord.” At least there was a glimmer of light at the end of this week. He looked to Jimmy whose eyes were boring into him. Well…two glimmers. / Thomas thought Jimmy may not come… he waited cross legged on his bed for at least an hour after when he had usually come. But just as he was about to give in and call it a night, Jimmy arrived, not bothering to knock on the door and making Thomas jump out his skin. “Christ Jimmy.” He gave him a crooked smile. “Sorry.” He fiddled with little leather book in his hand. “What’s that?” Thomas questioned curiously. “Something I’ve never shown anyone till now.” He told him, nonchalant but the way he gripped the book told Thomas otherwise. He moved over and settled down on the other end of the bend and Thomas crawled up next to him, resting on his knees gingerly. Jimmy opened the book. The book at first was page after page of prose, filled with the funniest wittiest writings and the most beautiful imagery and metaphor, then as the dates at the top of each passage moved into the 20’s, Jimmy slipped into straight out poetry. “It’s what I do to get my thoughts out. I’m not much good at saying things out loud. So, I write them in here.” Thomas found a particular passage about him after the date of the Thirsk fair. He read it out loud softly. “For a while now I thought him a snake. Slimy creature, cold blooded ready to pounce on the nearest pretty boy that took his fancy. And me the man who charmed him without ever meaning to. But now he’s different. Sat there across from, his face blotted with black and blue all for me and with a smile like he was happy for it. He looks so different when he smiles. I reckon he’d easily snap any woman he wanted up if he were inclined that way.” “I feel so bad for it now… calling you that… a snake. I was like all the rest, weren’t I?” “You were scared my love, fear like love makes fools of us all. And you write so beautifully…you should send something off. Have a word with Lady Edith.” he closed the book before he got to the poem, but Jimmy was glad, he didn’t think he could stand anymore. Jimmy took the book. As he looked back, their faces were close, Thomas’s lashes fluttered shut, he tilted his and decided to go in for the kill. “What really happened tonight in that room?” The under butler stiffened. Then he sighed and pulled away. “I told you…” he started as he got under the covers. “A lie, Thomas.” “Jimmy please don’t make this harder for me.” “I just want an answer. I tell you everything, things I’ve never told anyone, I thought I was that for you as well?” he stood up and Thomas was terrified of him leaving “You are. But I can’t tell you this.” Thomas’ eyes were pleading. “Jimmy please… just forget it and trust that I can take care of us.” “I’m not your little wifey waiting at home for you to take care of business. Stop treating me like a child.” Thomas closed his eyes and made a noise of frustration his hands buried in his hair pulling it free from its slicked hairdo. “Bugger this.” Jimmy furrowed his brow and made to leave but Thomas was quick to scramble out of bed, only stumble and take in a sharp gasp, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. In pain. He leaned against the chipped wooden chair for support. Soon, very soon, Jimmy’s anger dissipated. Thomas before him, giving him major flashbacks to the day in that passage. Thomas Barrow had thrown himself in front of a bullet and was willingly suffering for him, yet again. Jimmy turned back, his hand sliding around his waist, gentle, like he was cradling a precious and breakable bit of china. Thomas met his eyes, so exhausted and so very grateful. The footman helped him back to bed and slid under the blanket himself, but this time he didn’t fall, tiered to his chest. No, she hovered over him, legs bracketing the other’s hips. Thomas looked up at him, hand caressing his cheek and Jimmy leaned into it, body melting, each muscle draining the tension. He kissed Thomas under a sweet spell, it was passionate, it was fluid and powerful and reduced Jimmy to trembles. And for once, it felt equal. Thomas too shaking like a leaf, hands buried in Jimmy’s soft curls. And the heat grew, the fire intensified until they were pressed so close together they were one. Then it got too much and Jimmy snapped back. “Wait!” he breathed hand against Thomas’ chest, pushing him down. Thomas panted. “God I’m sorry Jimmy. I couldn’t help…” “No, I just…not yet. I’m sorry I can’t…” “Shh. It’s okay…” he pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and pulled him down into the crook of his neck, cradling the back of his head. “I’ve got you, my love.” “Thomas…” “Yeah?” “What if I called you love or darling...or sweetheart?” He laughed “…It would make me incessantly happy.” / Oh, my love… they wish to ruin you, to mar the picture, kill your mind. I promise you till they get me too, my arms will pay you back in kind.

[ismael37olson]

On and On and On It Goes

I've been watching a lot of film noir lately, to get me in the right mindset for polishing Sweet Smell of Success. A few things I've noticed -- in almost all of them, there's a fundamentally corrupt, or at least unfair, world as a backdrop, almost everything happens at night, and there's usually a moment in which an otherwise innocent person makes the fateful decision to also lie, cheat, or otherwise manipulate. All those thing are present in Sweet Smell. And the cultural backdrop is almost as vivid a character as the four leads. For a while, mid-century, Americans devoured gossip about famous people more ferociously than at any other time before or since. Sure, that's always been a part of our culture, but there was a "Golden Age." The story of Sweet Smell of Success is a very personal story, among just four people, of love, jealousy, greed, and ego. But underpinning the story is a moral and structural underbelly that makes this story unique, exploring the freaky barter system that fueled those mid-century gossip columns. That system is the "Underworld" that our heroes must learn to navigate. And it worked like this: Say you're a 1950s press agent. You make money by finding clients to represent, they pay you a regular fee, and you get them mentioned in the newspapers; and the best mention of all is one of the nationally syndicated "Broadway" (i.e., New York) gossip columnists. The king of those was Walter Winchell, only thinly veiled as the character J.J. Hunsecker in Sweet Smell of Success. The price of getting your client mentioned favorably in a gossip column is a nasty, preferably scandalous, or at least witty, piece of gossip about someone else. You rat somebody else out, your client gets the prize. Or the way Sidney and the other press agents explain it in our show:

Sidney: A press agent works for a client. Press Agents: Yup! Sidney: A press agent likes to eat. Agents: You bet! Sidney: The client says, “Get me in J.J.” Agents: J.J.! Sidney: The press agent feels the heat. Agents: Ouch! Sidney: J.J. says, “What’ll you give me?” Here's where you crawl like a bug... All: Just give him dirt, Make it hurt, He gives your client a plug.

Just listen to J.J.'s secretary Madge take his calls:

Madge: (answering the phone) J.J. Hunsecker… Press Agent: Madge, any space tonight? Madge: Depends on what you got. Press Agent: The Democratic presidential nominee? Madge: What did you find out? Press Agent: Tell J.J. his divorce papers are sealed. Madge: (To J.J.) Adlai Stevenson's divorce papers are sealed. J.J.: Why? Madge: (To Press Agent) Why? Press Agent: Give me time -- he'll mention the Blue Angel? Madge: Find out more and J.J. loves the Blue Angel. (picks up another line) J.J. Hunsecker…

And the result sounds like (also quoting from the show):

Kay Thompson and the Williams Brothers packing 'em in at the Persian Room ... Those rumors about Lena Home just won't quit ... Grace Kelly, fresh off High Noon, making yet another married movie star regret he ever said love, honor and oh the hell with it … Advice to a certain polo-playing playboy after the brawl at P.J. Clark’s last night. Learn the difference between men and pigs. Pigs don't tum into men when they drink … Talking of tippling: Dean Martin confessing at The Stork Club that he sees a psychiatrist once a week to help him stop drinking. It's working. Every Tuesday from three to four, he stops drinking ... Item: Libby James, TV glamazon, at Toni's Caprice with married Wall Street biggie. She's learning the hard way that girls get minks the same way minks get minks ... Question in Washington: Will Truman resign before he's impeached? Treason's never a pretty picture ... Ava Gardner is finding out that when hubby Frank Sinatra sends her flowers for no reason, there's a reason ...

That's the universe in which our dark, fierce, adult fable takes place. I keep thinking about that famous review quote of the original Pal Joey in 1940, "Although it is expertly done, can you draw sweet water from a foul well?" Yes, you could in 1940 and you can now. It makes me think of a conversation I had last night at rehearsal with Matt Pentecost, who's playing Sidney for us. We've both seen the movie, and Matt was feeling a little unsure since he was going in a somewhat different direction than Tony Curtis did. Matt's Sidney is not irredeemably sociopathic as he was in the film; this Sidney is more needy and weak. He's not fundamentally evil, just without any discernible moral foundation, like no one ever bothered to teach him the basics of right and wrong. In the film, Sidney is as big a monster as J.J. is. In the show, Sidney is just a two-bit hustler, trapped by his ambition and his lust for power. But unlike the film, the stage musical allows Sidney some flashes of self-awareness which arguably make his tragedy even worse. The difference, of course, is the music. In the film, any emotions these broken people felt were fully submerged, subtextual. But because music is an abstract language, it conveys emotion more powerfully than words can, and so the musical theatre is an inherently emotional storytelling form. Sweet Smell of Success as a musical can explore those dark, complex emotions directly, and a song like "At the Fountain" can give us empathy for a character like Sidney that wasn't possible in the movie. Here's a piece of Sidney's big Act I solo, the introspective "At the Fountain," in which he ponders his luck at becoming J.J.'s new best friend...

Hey Sidney, you finally found some luck... You've always been an also-ran Just racing for a buck; A guy with a smile, A way with a word, Quick with a joke We've already heard. Y'ever hear the one about Lana Turner? Sittin' at the soda fountain, Dreamin' her soda fountain dreams? But there was something he could see For just a moment; It's like he saw inside of me What's really there – What I was, What I am, What I'll be… Maybe I'm at the fountain, Maybe I'm at the start; It's time to step up and drink And not even think; You don't have to think to be smart. Sometimes the perfect timing Feels like a work of art, 'Cause it can bring you your break And answer the ache; He offers, you take The part...

More so than the movie ever does, this helps us understand why Sidney goes along with everything J.J. wants. That's some really strong character writing from lyricist Craig Carnelia, and coupled with Marvin Hamlisch's lush, soaring music, it's a powerfully emotional moment. It's almost impossible not to feel something for Sidney here. And then he destroys some lives.

And that's a big part of what makes this moral thriller so much fun. If you're not careful, Sidney will charm you too. I guess it's sort of like The Music Man, only this time the scoundrel isn't just ripping off honest small town people using their kids as bait; this time, somebody's apt to get killed. I realized as we've worked on this show that the central conflict of the show is not exactly what it appears to be. The real conflict isn't about jealousy or power; it's about empathy. J.J. and Sidney are so broken, so damaged, they can't imagine how someone else feels, they can't put themselves in someone else's shoes. And that makes it really easy to destroy people. Recent brain research suggests that if a child doesn't get enough physical affection in the first years of life, they won't properly develop the pre-frontal cortex in their brain, the area which controls empathy. J.J. and Sidney aren't just cruel; they're incapable of feeling empathy. In the original short story, Susan says to Sidney, "We love each other in a way that you and J.J. could never understand." She's absolutely right. There's so much complexity and depth to these characters, and the writing is exceptional. Our music director Jeff Carter calls it the "wittiest and wickedest" book he's ever worked on. And then there's the amazing music and lyrics... And this superb cast of ours...! You gotta see this show. It's genuinely extraordinary, a real roller coaster ride, and when will you ever get another chance to see it...? Long Live the Musical! Scott from The Bad Boy of Musical Theatre http://newlinetheatre.blogspot.com/2017/05/on-and-on-and-on-it-goes.html

[datingadviceonreddit]

Dating apps kind of suck — just ask anyone between the ages of 22 and 35. Despite this, they’ve become the normal way to meet people and ask them out. This puts you in a tough spot. Because everyone else is using dating apps, it’s tough to avoid using them, too. It’s a self-perpetuating cycle. To help you navigate all the choices out there, we’ve picked eight of the most prevalent dating apps — or those that bring something unique to the table — along with our expert opinions on their accessibility, foibles, pratfalls, best intended uses, and everything else in between.Whether you're mind-numbingly bored, want to expand your current dating pool, or simply want to add yet another dating app to your repertoire, there are seemingly endless apps to choose from. Check out my top 5 dating app picks and feel free to text Tinder to say you're just not feeling it anymore. If you get overwhelmed and have to go crawling back to Tinder, don't worry — it will always be there for you.Here are some suggestions：apps-like-tinder.comBumbleThis app made by women, for women aims to give ladies control over their virtual dating lives. It's basically feminist Tinder: Men are not allowed to message first, leaving it up to the girls to start off the conversation however they see fit. If the lady doesn't start a convo with a match within 24 hours, the chat disappears forever, providing an incentive to actually make connections with people rather than just playing the "who'll make the first move" waiting game. While it's true (and great) that many women may already feel empowered enough to send the first message, Bumble is a fun Tinder alternative for girls who are on the shy side. Plus it's never a bad thing to remind women that they're in control of their own bodies, despite what many gross trolls would have them believe.HappnThis app could basically be renamed "Stalkr," but that doesn't stop it from being a personal favorite of mine. By turning on your location services, the app shows you people you've "crossed paths with," within one city-block. Then, like Tinder, you can "like" someone which opens up the option to chat. So next time you're on the subway and are too scared to actually approach a Ryan Gosling lookalike, download Happn and pray to the Sex Gods that he has the app, too. Bonus: Spotify teamed up with Happn to let you send songs to potential dates, so you can send a girl or guy a not-so-subtle hint by messaging them "Pony" by Ginuwine in lieu of a cheesy pickup line.Coffee Meets BagelCMB functions a little differently than Tinder: You get only one match — called a "bagel" — a day, every day at noon (it sends you a push notification to let you know when it's ready). Then you can either "accept" or "pass" on this person; if you both accept, then a chat line opens up and stays active for a week. The lack of endless matches is both a positive and a negative — it's not as overwhelming as Tinder, but there's also not the possibility for limitless hours of swiping entertainment. However, you can earn or purchase "coffee beans" that you can use to unlock more matches if you so desire. One more awesome thing: If you "pass" on a person, it will ask you why — presumably to make your future matches better suited to you — and then offers you another "free" bagel for the day (sometimes more than one if you continue to hit "pass").HingeHinge uses your real-life network (and by "real life" I mean Facebook) to find potential matches that aren't necessarily sketchy strangers. It hooks you up with friends of friends, so the people you're chatting with can be vouched for by people you trust. Like Tinder, your profile is built around your Facebook photos and interests, and then you can chat with someone once you've both "liked" each other, but the similarities end there. Hinge provides only a "select list" of matches rather than an endless amount, so the number of potential baes is more of a gentle stream than a roaring waterfall. Once you've run out of second- and third-degree connections, the app makes more "tangential" connections, still trying to find you people based on your social networks. Even more good news: The app now calls out users who are already in relationships, putting their Facebook relationship status on the app so no one is deceived.OkCupidPutting OkC on this list was inevitable, right? I don't think I need to explain it since it seems to be just as popular with Millennials as Tinder, but it is worth including since it has such a large network of people to choose from. If you're tired of simply swiping and want to procrastinate for hours by penning the world's wittiest dating profile and answering hundreds of match questions, OkCupid is perfect for you. Plus, reading typo-ridden messages and profiles is half the fun of OkCupid, so you can do that to kill time on the subway, even if the more serious "soulmate search" isn't your cup of tea.Though all that can be rather time-consuming and is surely not for the everyman who just wants to hookup with someone new every weekend, OkC has other options as well. It has a Tinder-like feature called "Quickmatch" where you can swipe through people nearby — if you both "liked" each other, it lets you know (although you can chat with them either way, unlike on Tinder). I can't even tell you how much of my life has been spent staring blankly at the OkCupid app — trust me, I wouldn't steer you wrong. via /r/dating_advice