Here for Glorious Tom Sturridge

Natalie Wood:

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

Over the few days, Morpheus had noticed a dreary cloud forming and seemingly growing over your head. It casted its gloom and rain dampening your radiance. Your smile was not quite as bright, it barely reached your now sullen eyes. Your presence was no longer felt in every room. Your laughter, your occasional humming, your musical-like steps were gone. You were a shadow, a husk. And big by bit, you retreated from him; you actively avoided him, or so he believed.

“Lucienne,” Morpheus asked one evening.

The pair was in the study. Papers littered all over the desk along with uncapped inkwells and used fountain pens. They poured and poured over the dull necessities of maintaining the bookshop - going over profits, bills, shipments, and new orders.

Lucienne peered at her lord over her glasses quizzically. “Yes?”

“Have you spoken with our dear mortal recently?” Morpheus still stood over the desk and continued to scan over documents, trying not to look bothered by his inquiring question or your sudden change.

“No, I haven’t.”

A tension set in his jaw. “I see.”

Lucienne quickly picked up on Morphues’s displeasure. A smile tugged on the corners of her lips. She was not oblivious to her lord’s far more chirper attitude since welcoming you into the manor. “May I ask what brought up this question?”

“Curiosity,” he replied nonchalantly.

Lucienne hummed, unconvinced. “Curiosity? Or concern?”

Her question stirred a reaction out of him. Morpheus whipped his head, now facing Lucienne directly. “And if I am, is there anything wrong in worrying about her?” His question was one of concern for you, yet his tone in which he spoke was biting - what exactly was Lucienne implying?

Lucienne’s smile only grew. She calmly responded, “No, sir.”

Upon seeing Lucienne’s calmness, Morpheus’s shoulders instantly dropped. His anger was misplaced. All the fight was drained from him, and soon the truth spilled out. “She -“ he sighed - “she does not seem happy and … and I do not know if it is because of living here or because of troubled nights.”

Lucienne thought of how there was an easy solution to his conundrum: he should speak with you. However, she held her tongue this time and instead opted to ask a question regarding you. “Troubled nights?”

“The other night, she spoke of having a nightmare.” Morpheus’s eyes shone with a heavy sorrow. “She … she was utterly frightened, Lucienne. Her fear nearly choked me.”

Lucienne frowned. “I was not aware, but a nightmare is a nightmare. There is not much one can do.”

Morpheus sighed, dropping into his chair. He tipped his head back and stared blankly up at the high ceiling. His heart - ancient and heavily barricaded - ached to see you smile. Just once more, just for a moment. In such a brief period, you had invaded his thoughts. He did not realize he craved it, sought it out, until it was taken from him.

Taken.

It seemed many things were taken from him in recent years. He pushed aside those thoughts and painful memories. He ran his hands over his face then through his tousled hair. Such complex feelings swirled inside his chest and constricted his heart.

“You care for her.” Morpheus lifted his head, looking towards Lucienne. She continued, “Which is never a bad thing, sir. She has brought new life here.”

And in you, she thought.

“I care for all of you,” he answered, dismissing her comment.

“You do, and we appreciate it.”

He raised an eyebrow at the weighted pause at the end of her sentence. “But?”

She smiled to herself. “I believe the care you feel for us and her are different.”

Morpheus frowned. Was he truly so easy to read? Did he truly become enamored with his housekeeper so quickly like a tale of forbidden romance? Did he truly want a partner … or did he want something else? He turned his head away, grumbling to himself.

Care? If one could call it such.

Does a farmer not care for his slaughter? Care, hunger, desire, it all can twist together. They can form into complex knots, making it impossible to tell where one may begin or end.

“For you, my lord.”

A beautiful picturesque rose dripping in a passionate red appeared in front of Morpheus’s face. He was working tediously in his study, and surprisingly failed to hear him. He just appeared, a magical and strange habit of his.

Morpheus blinked, gently taking the rose out of his hand. “Oh, uh, thank you.”

He smiled warmly like a sunny day. His wondrous new grander had already made such a change in the once dismal manor. Colors of all sorts were injected into the very foundation. Flowers bloomed wildly and freely, life blossomed with a new fever. “I thought you might like it, sir. Red suits you perfectly.”

”How do you do it, Lucienne?” Morphues whispered softly, changing the conversation. His voice was filled with sorrow as memories resurfaced. Sweet, painful memories, ones he wished he could forget yet also wouldn’t trade anything in the world for they were more precious than any gold or jewelry.

“Meaning what, sir?”

”To be close to her, to not be affected by her?”

Ah.

”Well, someone taught me control.” Lucienne slowly organized papers. “Someone had once found me in an awful state and was able to bring me back to my senses. Now, part of me cannot bare the smell of human blood without my stomach twisting into disgust.”

Morpheus’s eyes softened.

Lucienne gathered up the papers, ready to part of the night. “A solution to your problem: perhaps you can try to talk to her and cheer her up, sir. I’m sure she would appreciate the gesture.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And how would I do that?”

She chuckled, almost in a knowing way, and strolled out of the study. “I believe you will figure it out, sir.”

The soft click of the door echoed in the now quiet, lonely space. Morpheus peered over to the window with its curtains drawn. Even drawn closed, the setting sunlight streamed through the cracks trying to warm the earth in its last moments. Tilting his head, he saw the surrounding woods fade in the dying light. As his gaze darted around taking in the surroundings, it landed on a corner of dark greens and deep reds. Lucienne’s words replayed in his head. He was on his feet, already looking for you before he fully understood it himself. His feet carried him downstairs towards your room, however he stopped in the dining room. Looking ahead, he instead saw you sitting in the sun room. You were on the couch with your back to him and your head bowed. He immediately changed course.

Quietly, he opened the door. The potted trees and fauna stretched its shadows and created unique jagged shapes. A soft orange bathed over the room. The fractured soft light shone through the glass and casted you in an ethereal halo of twinkling gold.

You were a goddess of light.

As he walked towards you, you did not stir. You had heard him by the high pitched squeak of the door and the faint clacking of the heels on the tile floor. He stopped by your side, peering down at you. “I see you are still reading that book from before.”

You laughed, a quick huff through your nose, and closed the book in your lap. You glanced up at him with a forced smile. “Trying and failing, sir.”

His eyes swept over your face. Gaunt was the first word to come to mind. You appeared gauntly and ragged. Bags were carved under your eyes, and your skin had lost its glow. He pushed on, trying not to dwell and stare at your new appearance. “And what has your mind occupied this time?”

The other night. The nightmares. An unpleasant past. You.

“I suppose a lot of things,” you answered with a heavy sigh.

Morpheus frowned slightly. Yet, he quickly wiped it away, replacing it with a small endearing smile. He extended his hand down towards you. “I know a place to help clear your mind, would you care to join me?”

Your eyes flickered up. His dazzling blue eyes - contrasted against the golden dazzling air - only showed kindness and a hint of concern. You should refuse, you should stay or perhaps return to your room for the night, but … but how could you say no? Not when he looked at you in such an alluring way, and not since he piqued your deep rooted curiosity. You carefully set the book aside on the plush cushions, and placed your hand in his. “I would love to.”

Morpheus’s smile grew as he drew you up to your feet. “Wonderful.”

He hooked your arm through his and guided you forward. Together, you walked out through the back entrance of the sun room, heading directly for the rose maze. The sun had dipped below the horizon, however its last bits of rays faintly colored the sky. Oranges and pinks still stained the vast canvas known as the sky. They desperately clung behind as rich purples, dark blues, and an all consuming black began to drip down coating all corners. The moon, perfectly sliced in half, already shone in the dimming sky. Its companions, stars, began to twinkle and fill the empty space for the moon was never alone. The rose maze, under this changing light, was mysterious. The greens almost appeared black, while the reds were embers of a dying fire. Excitement buzzed across your skin. Your heart flipped, nearly dropping into your stomach. It was all so thrilling to finally set food inside, and to be by Morpheus’s side as your guide.

Even if you shouldn’t, even if a logical part scolded you.

Morpheus drew you close as you approach the entrance of the maze. “Now, stay close. At night, it can be tricky to navigate.”

There was a hint of humor in his voice as if he was trying to spook you. You chuckled, shaking your head, “Really? Is that your plan? To take me in and do what you want without anyone seeing?”

He laughed, a deep rich laugh that vibrated in your own chest. “You have me figured out.”

You smiled, a true genuine smile. It returned as if it never truly left. It was nice to be joking and laughing with him. It was surprisingly so easy, like two friends and nothing else.

No titles, no past.

Stepping into the maze was stepping into another world. The maze hedges were easily seven feet tall and two or three feet wide, it fully blocked out the world the further you walked in. The hedges were cut and trimmed to perfection. No branch stuck out, only roses. And the roses? Gorgeous with no flaws. There were full roses with their petals spread out to greet you, there were buds still closed waiting for their time, and there were roses in every stage of blooming covering almost every inch of the hedges. The sweet floral aroma tickled your nose and filled the air.

You hummed, pleased by the scent.

Morpheus peered over at you, taken by your wide curious eyes. Your eyes darted all around, fascinated by it all, memorized by its beauty. Strolling further in, he followed the correct path leading to the center of the maze. His stride did not hesitate, but only slowed when your eyes longingly lingered back on all the passing flowers.

Best of all, and to your surprise, there weren't only red roses.

No, the deeper you walked the red stayed, yet yellows, pinks, and whites were slowly incorporated into the mix. A beautiful blend, and various shades, of warm inviting colors. It was like a storybook, a scenery plucked from a far off prosperous kingdom. Tempted by their beauty, you reached out, running your fingers along the soft petals. It was fine silk, or like a cloud.

“Careful -“

You hissed, stopping in place. A thorn had pricked your thumb.

Morpheus instantly frowned and moved in front of you. He carefully took your hand, examining your thumb. It was nothing to be concerned about. An insignificant prick, no worse than a paper cut. A small dot of blood began to well up. The dot sparkled like a certain ruby pinned to his tie. Before he could stop himself, Morpheus brought your thumb up to his lips. His lips - soft and gentle - pressed into the pad of your thumb kissing it.

Your heart flipped in your chest.

Morpheus’s eyes glanced up, locking with yours. A look flashed across his eyes, a look which could only be described as hunger. He nearly knocked the wind out of your lungs by such a simple look. He pulled away and dropped your hand. Turning his back to you, he mumbled, “Apologies for my behavior.”

He licked his lips, tasting the tiniest bit of your blood. He had to suppress a groan. It was truly addicting, like a newly discovered liquor he could happily get drunk off of each and every night.

“I have an older sister who used to do such a thing if any of us were injured. It’s a habit I unknowingly picked up,” he explained.

No, not explained but excused. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. However, it was a lie he told himself and you, rather than admit the aroma of your blood tempted him to act.

“It’s okay,” you muttered, feeling your heart skip in a way you had never felt before. “I should have known better.”

Morpheus wanted to say something, wanted to do something. He wanted to draw you close, he wanted to wrap his arms around your waist, he wanted to nuzzle his face into your neck, he wanted to hear you say his name over and over, he wanted to -

“Please,” he cleared his throat, “I would refrain from running your fingers over them. The thorns are quite sharp, and we needn’t any more accidents. Come, the center is up ahead.”

He walked - no, marched - ahead, and did not bother looking back to see if you were following.

Your lips thinned in thought. You silently followed him as this bizarre tension hovered in the shared space. The only sounds were the crunching of both of your shoes against the pebbled path. You eyed Morpheus’s back curiously and with some trepidation. He had once again pulled away from you. He showed you such kindness, yet almost scared by something he backed off. Why? What frightened him? What thoughts floated around in that head of his?

Why do you care, a voice called out.

You tensed a little. Why did you? It was so pointless and idiotic, especially when -

“We’re here,” Morpheus said. He rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

Skirting around the hedge, you let out a small gasp. The pebbled path opened up. The space was carved into a perfect circle, with patches of lush full grass that tempted any tired feet to rest. One could lay and gaze up at the stars, or have a picnic in the high sun. However, most would turn to the concrete benches that surrounded the showstopper: a fountain at the very center. The fountain - smaller than the one in front of the house, yet had four tiers compared to the three - had dozens upon dozens of rose petals floating across the surface. Peering up, the moon looked back down at you in this secret oasis smiling. Its light rippled in the water, scattering its reflection. With the various colors from the roses, and the moonlight’s, it glittered here like a treasure trove.

It was breathtaking.

Morpheus glanced over his shoulder back to you. His heart lurched forward. You looked so beautiful under the moonlight. You slowly approached the foundation, dipping your fingers into the cool water. You picked up a petal, admiring it before setting it back into the water. A smile never left your lips. Any issues, any problems from before, were gone. Each of you solely existed in this moment. Morpheus felt his heart being drawn to you, bound to you. Anything you wanted, anything to keep you smiling, he would do.

What a frightening and thrilling feeling, so familiar yet so foreign to him.

You moved and sat down on the bench, watching as the water spilled over the tiered edges and as petals spun and danced on top of the water. The sounds of the water splashing, and trickling, was hypnotic and soothing. You sighed dreamily and murmured to yourself, “What a beautiful place.”

“It is.” You turned your head, looking up at Morpheus. His eyes were directly on you as he spoke, you always seemed to get his full attention. He smiled softly. He produced a rose from behind his back - a pure white rose that glittered like snow under the moonlight. He sat beside you on the bench, “May I?”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward, tucking the roses behind your ear. As he drew back, his nimble fingers skimmed along your jaw. His eyes softened. You truly were a fresh change in his life, a well needed change. You had taken his heart in the short time you worked here with your humor, your wit, your curiosity, and your kindness. He was smitten for deep in his heart he was a hopeless romantic.

He turned away from you, looking to the fountain. Your heart skipped. His touch burned across your skin. You reached up, touching the soft pure white petals. A smile crossed your lips as you stared at the multifaceted lord.

“I suppose I have to admit I do have an ulterior motive for asking you to join me,” he began.

“Oh?” You titled your head. “And what would that be?”

To see you smile again, he thought.

“I have a question to ask, a request, and I did not want anyone else to listen in.”

You leaned forward, silently waiting.

He bowed his head, and dare you say appeared to be almost shy. It surprised you to see him in such a way. He peered up at you with a cluster of unreadable emotions on his face. “I would like to ask if you would join me to attend my dear friend’s party.”

“What?” You breathed out.

“I want you to accompany me to Hob’s party, if you so wish to join me.”

“I … I am unsure. I am just taken back by your offer.”

“Do you truly find it so surprising?”

“Given my employment to you, I suppose I do,” you joked lightly.

“If you wish, think of it as a bonus for your wonderous upkeep of the manor.” He searched in your eyes hoping to find his answer. “So? Do you accept?”

You smiled softly, “How could I pass up such generosity? Yes.”

Lucienne was right. Morpheus knew exactly what to do.

Shortly after his surprising offer, Morpheus explained he will take care of anything. He will find a dress for you for the night, and pay all expenses - you reluctantly agreed after much arguing.

Soon, arm in arm again, he guided you out of the maze, and towards your room for the night. He paused in front of you, hovering slightly as if something weighed on him, as if he wished to say something else. His lips parted, but he just bowed his head. “Goodnight, I hope you have sweeter dreams tonight.”

“Thank you,” you bowed your head.

Say something, do something.

Instead, you just simply smiled. “Goodnight, sir.”

You twisted around to go into your room when a hand latched around your wrist. You suppressed a shiver at his cool hand. You peered over your shoulder looking down at the hand then slowly your eyes trailed up to see Morpheus’s wondrous blue eyes.

“Please,” he whispered softly, “when it is just us, call me Morpheus. No need for such formalities.”

Your heart fluttered, like a hummingbird. “Of course. Morpheus. Goodnight.”

His eyes twinkled, utterly overjoyed. A smile spread over his lips. He gently let go of your wrist and stood back with perfect posture. He bowed his head again, “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

You turned, finally stepping into your room. You gently shut the door as a giddy feeling washed over you. Morpheus’s footsteps soon faded away. You sighed, dreamily. Taking the rose from behind your ear, you floated over to the nightstand by your bed. You gently laid it down. Your fingers traced over the petals, unable to stop smiling. Maybe later you will get a cup and water for it. Your eyes, however, soon caught a folded piece of paper on the stand. Your smile faltered. Picking it up and unfolding it, your mother and father smiled back up at you. You folded the picture again. You tucked it under the beautiful white rose.